UCSB LIBRARY
THE
LONDON ENCYCLOPEDIA.
VOL XIX.
ROME TO SEDUCTION.
J. Haddon, Printer, Castle Street,' Uodou .
THE
LONDON ENCYCLOPEDIA,
UNIVERSAL DICTIONARY
SCIENCE, ART, LITERATURE, AND PRACTICAL MECHANICS,
COMPRISING A
POPULAR VIEW OF THE PRESENT STATE OF KNOWLEDGE.
ILLUSTRATED BY
NUMEROUS ENGRAVINGS, A GENERAL ATLAS,
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BY THE ORIGINAL EDITOR OF THE ENCYCLOPEDIA METROPOLITANA,
ASSISTED BY EMINENT PROFESSIONAL AND OTHER GENTLEMEN.
IN TWENTY-TWO VOLUMES.
VOL XIX.
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THE
LONDON ENCYCLOPEDIA.
ROME.
CARUS, NIMERIAX, AND CAUixus. — Carus,
who was praetorian prefect to the deceased em-
peror, was chosen by the army to succeed him ;
and he, to strengthen his authority, united
with him his two sons Carinus and Numerian
in command ; the former of whom was as re-
markable for his vices, as the latter was for
his virtues. Carus had scarcely time to punish
the murderers of the late monarch, when he was
alarmed by a fresh irruption of the Sarmatians,
over whom he gained a signal victory. The
Persian monarch also made, some attempts upon
the empire ; but Carus assured his ambassadors
that, if their master persisted in his obstinacy,
all his fields should shortly be as bare as his own
bald head: a dreadful battle ensuing, he once
more gained a complete victory. But he was
shortly after struck dead by lightning in his tent,
with many others around him. Numerianus was
inconsolable for his death ; and brought a dis-
order upon his eyes, we are told, with weeping.
The peculiarity of his situation, after some time,
excited the ambition of Aper, his father-in-
law, who supposed that he could now, with-
out danger, aim at the empire himself. He
therefore hired a villain to murder the emperor
in his litter ; and, to conceal the fact, gave out
that he was alive, but unable to endure the light.
In this manner was the dead body carried about
for some days, Aper continuing to attend it with
the utmost respect, and to take orders as usual.
However, the offensiveness of its smell, at length
discovered the treachery, and excited a univer-
sal uproar. In the midst of this tumult, Dio-
clesian, one of the most noted commanders of
his time, was chosen emperor, and with his own
hand slew Aper, having thus, as it is said, ful-
filled a prophecy, that he should be emperor
after he had slain a boar, alluding to the name
of his rival. Carinus did not long survive his
father and brother; for givirig himself up to his
vices, and opposing the new-made emperor, the
competitors led their forces into Moesia ; where,
Dioclesian being victorious, Carinus was slain
by a tribune of his own army, whose wife he
had formerly abused.
DIOCLESIAN AND MAXIMIAN. — Dioclesian re-
ceived his name from Dioclea, the town in which
he was born ; and was about forty years old
when he was elected emperor. He pardoned all
who had joined Carinus. Conscious also that
the weight of the empire was too heavy for
one alone to sustain, he took in Maximian, his
general, as a partner in the throne. There never
was a period in which the empire had more tt*-
inerous or formidable enemies to oppose, ^n
VOL. XIX.— PART 1.
Gaul the peasants and laborers made a dar.-
geruus insurrection, under Amandus and Heliz.-
nus, but were subdued by Maximian. Achilleus,
who commanded in Egypt, proclaimed him-
self emperor; and it was not without many-
bloody engagements that he was overcome.
In Africa, the Roman legions, joined with many
of the natives, seized upon the public revenues,
and plundered those who continued in their
duty. These were also subdued by Maximian.
About the same time a principal commander in
Britain, named Carausius, then proclaimed
himself emperor, and possessed himself of the
island. To oppose this general, Maximian made
choice of Constantius Chlorus, whom he created
Cassar, and married to Theodora his daughter-in-
law. About this time also Narses, king of Persia,
began a dangerous war, and invaded Mesopota-
mia. The Persians, however, were overcome in
a decisive engagement, and their camp plundered
and taken. There only remained, of all the ene-
mies of the empire, those who lay to the north-
ward, the Goths, Sarmatians, Alani, Quadi, &c.,
who poured down in incredible numbers. Du-
ring this period, as if the external miseries of the
empire had not been sufficient, the tenth and
last great persecution raged against the Chris-
tians. It exceeded all the former in severity ;
and, such was the zeal with which it was pursued,
that, in an ancient inscription, we are informed
that they had effaced the name and superstition
of the Christians. .Their attempts, however,
were but the malicious efforts of an expiring
party ; for Christianity soon after was established
by law. In the midst of the troubles raised by
this persecution, and of the contests that struck
at the internal parts of the state, Dioclesian and
Maximian surprised the world by resigning their
dignities on the same day, and both retiring into
private stations. Historians are much divided
concerning the motives that thus induced them
to give up those honors which they had pur-
chased with so much danger. When some at-
tempted to persuade Dioclesian to resume the
empire, he replied, * That, if they knew his pre-
sent happiness, they would rather endeavour to
imitate than disturb it.' Maximian, his partner
in the empire and in resignation, was by no
means so contented. He conducted various in-
trigues for a return to power, and endeavouring
to force his own daughter, and destroy her hus-
band, he was detected', and condemned to die by
whatever death he should think proper ; Lac-
tantius tells us that he chose hanging.
CONSTANTIUS CHLORUS, AND GALERIUS. —
Upon the resignation of the two emperors the
B
R O M E.
two Caesars \vcrc universally acknowledged as
their successors. They agreed to divide the em-
pire, Constantius being appointed to govern the
western paits; namely, Italy, Sicily, the greatest
part of Africa, together with Spain, Gaul, Bri-
tain, and Germany : Galerius had the eastern
parts; to wit, lllyricum, Pannonia, Thrace, Ma-
cedonia, all the provinces of Greece, and the
Lesser Asia, with Egypt, Syria, Judea, and all
the countries eastward. The greatness of the
division, however, soon induced the emperors to
take in two partners more, Severus and Maxi-
min, who were made Caesars, and assisted in the
conducting of affairs : so that the empire now
was under the guidance of four persons, all in-
vested with supreme authority. We are informed
l>ut of few particulars of the reign of Constantius,
except a detail of his character, which appears
in every light most amiable. In the second year
of his reign he went over into Britain ; and,
leaving his son Constantine as a kind of hostage
in the court of his partner in the empire, took
up his residence at York. Here, when ill past
recovery, he sent for him, and, raising himself
up in his bed, gave him his dying instructions.
In the mean time Galerius, Constantius's partner,
being informed of Constantine's advancement,
testified the most ungovernable rage; declar-
ing Severus emperor in opposition. About
this time also another pretender to the empire
started u]>. This was Maxentius, who was very
much favored by the soldiers, whom he permitted
to pillage at discretion. To oppose Maxentius
Severus led a numerous army towards Rome;
but his soldiers, considering against whom they
were to fight, immediately abandoned him. To
revenge his death Galerius marched into Italy,
resolving to destroy the whole senate. His sol-
diers however, upon approaching the capital,
began to waver ; when he had recourse to en-
treaties, imploring them not to abandon him ;
and, retiring, made Licinius, the son of a poor
laborer in Dacia, Caesar, in the room of Severus.
Soon after lie was seized with a disorder which
baffled all the skill of his physicians, and carried
him off after he had languished in torments for
nearly a year. His cruelty to the Christians was
one of the many crimes alleged against him; but
he abated much of his severities against them
in his illness.
MAXENTIUS. — Constantine, being thus deli-
yered from his greatest opponent, now possessed
more power than any of his rivals. The empire
was at that time divided between him and three
others : Maxentius, who governed in Rome, a
person of a cruel disposition, and a stedfast sup-
porter of paganism; Licinius, who was adopte I
by Galerius, and commanded in the east; ami
Maximin, who had formerly been declaredCaesar
with Severus, and who also governed some of
the eastern provinces. For some time all things
seemed to wear a peaceful appearance: till either
ambition or the tyrannical conduct of Maxentius
induced Constantine to engage in an expedition
V> expel that commander from Rome, and to
make the proper preparations for marching into
Italy. Upon this occasion he formed a resolu-
tion which produced a mii>hty change in tin i.n-
lilics as well as the morals of mankind, and gave
a new turn to the councils of the wise and the
pursuits of the ambitious. See in his life, article
CO.\>TAXTINK, the account of his conversion to
Christianity. After this he consulted with several
of the principal teachers of Christianity, and made
a public avowal of that persuasion, thus attaching
to his interest his soldiers, who were mostly
Christians. He lost no time in entering Italy
with 90,000 foot and 8000 horse ; and soon ad-
vanced to the very gates of Rome. Maxentius,
who had long given himself up to ease and de-
baucheries, now began to make preparations
when it was too late. lie first put in practice all
the superstitious rites which paganism taught to
be necessary ; and then consulted the Sibylline
books, whence he was informed that on that day
the great enemy of Rome should perish. Tiu>
prediction, which was equivocal, he applied to
Constantino; wherefore, leaving all things in tin-
best posture, he advanced from the city with an
army of 100,000 foot and 18,000 horse" The en-
gagement was for some time fierce and bloody :
till, his cavalry being routed, victory declared
upon the side of his opponent, and he himself
was drowned in his flight by the breaking down
of a bridge, as he attempted to cross the river
Tiber. Constantine, in consequence of this vic-
tory, entering the city, disclaimed all the praises
which the senate and people were ready to ofler,
ascribing his success to a superior power, lie
even caused the cross, which he was said to have-
seen in the heavens, to be placed at the right of
all his statues, with this inscription : ' That, un-
der the influence of that victorious ensign, Con-
stantine had delivered the city from the yoke of
tyrannical power.' He afterwards ordained that
no criminal should for the future sufl'er death l>\
the cross; and edicts were soon after issued, de-
claring that the Christians should be eased from
their grievances, and received into places of trust
and authority. Thus the new religion soon pre-
vailed over the whole empire.
CONSTANTINE AND LiciNirs. — While this
great change was proceeding, Maximin, wh •
governed in the east, marched against Licinius with
a very numerous army ; but a general engagement
ensued, in which Maximin suffered a total defeat.
Maximin, however, having escaped the carnage,
once more put himself at the head of another ar-
my, resolving to try the fortune of the field ; but
death anticipated his designs. Conslantine arid
Licinius being now undisputed possessors and part-
ners in the empire, all things promised a peaceable
continuance of their friendship and power. I'.i-
gan writers ascribe the rupture that unexpectedly
took place between these two potentates to Con-
stantine ; while the Christians, on the other hand,
impute it to Licinius. Both sides exerted al1
their power, as usual, to prevail, and, at the head
of very formidable armies, came to an enp
ment near Cybalis, in Pannonia. Previous to
the battle Constantine, in the midst of the
Christian bishops, begged the assistance ot
Hi iven; while Licinius, with equal zeal, called
upon the pagan priests to intercede with the gods.
Constantine, after an obstinate resistance from
the enemy, became victorious ; took their camp ;
and, after some time, compelled Licinius to sue
for a short truce. It was indeed short : but we hav«
ROME.
pursued the rest of the history of the first of the
Christian emperors in the article referred to. He
conceived and executed the bold measure of
transferring the seat of the empire from Rome to
Constantinople. The empire had long before
been in the most declining state; but this gave
precipitation to its downfall : it never after re-
sumed its former splendor. The inhabitants of
Rome, though with reluctance, submitted to the
change ; nor was there for several years any dis-
turbance in the state, until the Goths renewed
their inroads on the Danube. Constantine,
however, soon repressed their incursions, and so
straightened them that nearly 100,000 of their
number perisbed. The government of the em-
pire was afterwards divided as follows : — Con-
stantine, the emperor's eldest son, commanded in
Gaul and the western provinces; Constantius
governed Africa and Illyricum; and Constans
ruled in Italy. Dalmatius, the emperor's brother,
was sent to defend those parts that bordered
upon the Goths; and Annibalianus, his nephew,
had the charge of Cappadocia and Armenia
Minor. The latter part of the reign of Constan-
tine was peaceful and splendid ; ambassadors
from the remotest Indies came to acknowledge
his authority ; the Persians, who were ready for
fresh inroads, upon finding him prepared to op-
pose, sent humbly to desire his friendship and
forgiveness. He died at above sixty years old,
and had reigned above thirty years.
COXSTANTINE'S SONS. — After the death of
Constantine, the army and senate proclaimed
his three sons emperors, without taking any no-
tice of Dalmatius, and Annibalianus, who were
soon after murdered, with Julius Constantinus
the late emperor's brother, and all their friends
and adherents. Thus the family of Constantine
was reduced to the three sons and three ne-
phews ; Gallus and Julian, the sons of Julius
Constantius, and Nepotianus, the son of Eutro-
pia, Constantine's sister. Of these Gallus owed
his life to a malady, from which no one thought
he could recover; and Julian to his infancy,
boiim then only seven years of age. The three
brothers divided among themselves the domi-
nions of the deceased princes; but did not long
agree. In 340 Constantine, having in vain soli-
cited Constans to yield part of Italy to him,
raised a considerable army ; and under pretence
of marching to the assistance of his brother
Constantius, who was then at war with the Per-
sians, made himself master of several places in
Italy. Hereupon Constans detached part of his
army against him ; and Constantine, being drawn
into an ambuscade near Aquileia, was cut off
with his whole forces. .His body was thrown
into the Ansa ; but, being afterwards discovered,
was sent to Constantinople, and interred near
that of his father. By the defeat and death of
his brother, Constans remained sole master of
all the western empire, in the quiet possession
of which he continued till the year 350. This
year Magnentius, the son of a native of Ger-
many, finding Constans despised by the army on
account of his indolence and inactivity, resolved
to murder him, and set up for himself, Having
gained over the chief officers of the army, he
seized on the Imperial palace at Autun, and dis-
tributed among the populace what s-uns he
found ; which induced not only the city, but the
neighbouring country, to espouse his cause.
Constans being informed of what had passed,
and finding himself unable to resist the usurper,
fled towards Spain. He was overtaken, how-
ever, by Gaiso, whom Magnentius had sent after
him with a body of troops, and despatched at
Helena, near the foot of ihe Pyrenees.
CONSTANTIUS. — Constantius had been engaged
in a war with the Persians, in which little ad-
rantage had been gained on either side ; but, the
Persians now giving no more disturbance, he
marched against the usurpers ; for besides Mag-
nentius there were at this time two other -pre-
tenders to the western empire. Veteranio, gene-
ral of the foot in Pannonia, had on the first news
of the death of Constans, caused himself to be
proclaimed emperor by the legions under his
command. He was a native of Upper Moesia,
and advanced in years when he usurped the
sovereignty ; but so illiterate that he then first
learned to read. The third was Flavius Popi-
lius Nepotianus, who claimed right as nephew
of Constantine the Great. Having assembled a
company of gladiators and men of desperate
fortunes he assumed the purple on the 3d of
June 350, and in that attire presented himself
before the gates of Rome. The prefect Ani-
cetus, who commanded there for Magnentius,
sallied out against him with a body of Romans ;
who were soon driven back into the city. Soon
after Nepotianus made himself master of the
city itself, which he filled with blood and
slaughter. Magnentius, being informed of what
had happened, sent against this new competitor
his chief favorite Marcellinus. Nepotianus re-
ceived him with great resolution ; a battle en-
sued between the soldiers of Magnentius and
the Romans who had espoused the cause of
Nepotianus ; but the latter being betrayed by a
senator, named Heraclitus, his men were put to
flight, and he himself killed, after having en-
joyed the sovereignty only twenty-eight days.
Marcellinus ordered his head to be carried on
the point of a lance through the principal streets
of the city ; put to death all those who had de-
clared for him ; and, under pretence of prevent-
ing disturbances, commanded a general massacre
of all the relations of Constantine. Soon after,
Magnentius himself came to Rome to make the
necessary preparations for resisting Constantius,
who was exerting himself to the utmost to re-
venge the death of his brother. In the city he
behaved most tyrannically: put to death many
persons of distinction ; seized their estates ; and
obliged, the rest to contribute half of what they
were worth towards the expense of the war
Having thus raised great sums, he assembled ar
army of Romans, Germans, Gauls, Franks, Bri-
tons, Spaniards, &c. ; but, dreading the uncertain
issues of war, he despatched ambassadors to
Constantius with proposals of accommodation.
Constantius set out from Antioch about the be-
ginning of autumn ; and, passing through Con-
stantinople, arrived at Hfraclea, where he was
met by the deputies of Magnentius, and others
from Veteranio, who had agreed to support each
other in case the emperor would hearken to no
ROME.
terms. The deputies of Magnentius proposed
a match between him and Constantina, the sister
of Constantius, and widow of Annibaliauus ;
offering, at the same time, to Constantius the
sister of Magneiitius. T^e emperor would
hearken to no terms with Magnentius ; but, that
he might not have to oppose two enemies at
once, concluded a separate treaty with Veteranio,
by which he agreed to^ake him for his partner
in the empire. But, wnen Veteranio ascended
the tribunal along with Constantius, the soldiers
Eul'ed him down, saying they would acknow-
idge no emperor but Constantius. On this
Veteranio threw himself at the emperor's feet,
and implored his mercy. Constantius received
him with great kindness, and sent him into
Bithynia, where he allowed him a maintain-
ence suitable to his quality. Now master
of all Illyricum, and of the army commanded
by Veteranio, Constantius resolved to march
against Magnentius. In the mean time, how-
ever, on advice that the Persians were preparing
to invade the eastern provinces, he married
his sister Constantina to his cousin german
Callus ; created him Caesar on the 15th of
March ; and allotted him for his share not only
all the east, but likewise Thrace and Constanti-
nople.
About the same time Magnentius gave the title
of Caesar to his brother Decentius, whom he des-
patched intoGau! to defend that country against
the barbarians who had invaded it; for Constantius
had not only stirred up the Franks and Saxons to
break into that province by promising to relin-
quish to them all the places they should conquer,
but had sent him large supplies of men and arms
for that purpose. On this encouragement the
barbarians invaded Gaul with a great army, over-
threw Decentius in a pitched battle, committed
every where dreadful ravages, and reduced the
country to a most deplorable situation. Mean
time Maenentius, having assembled a numerous
army, left Italy, and, crossing the Alps, advanced
into the plains of Pannonia, where Constantius,
whose main strength consisted of cavalry, was
waiting for him. Magnentius, hearing that his
competitor was encamped at a small distance,
invited him by a messenger to the extensive
plains of Sciscia on the Sauve, there to decide
which of them had the best title to the empire.
This challenge was by Constantius received with
great joy; but, as his troops marched towards
Sciscia in disorder, they fell into an ambuscade,
and were put to flight. With this success Mag-
nentius was so elated that he rejected all terms
of peace ; after some time, a general engagement
ensued at Mursa, in which Magnentius was en-
tirely defeated, with the loss of 24,000 men.
Constantius, though victor, is said to have lost
30,000. All authors agree that the battle proved
fatal to the western empire, and greatly con-
tributed to its speedy decline. After his defeat
at Mursa, Magnentius retired into Italy, where
he recruited his scattered forces as well as he
could. But in the beginning of the following
year, 352, Constantius, having assembled his
troops, surprised and took a strong castle on the
Julian Alp?, belonging to Magnentius, without
Jlie loss of a m;m. After this the emperor ad-
vanced in order to force the rest ; upon which
M-uiienlius was struck with such terror that he
immediately abandoned Aquileia, and ordered
the troops that guarded the other passes of the
Alps to follow him. Thus Constantius, entering
Italy without opposition, made himself master
of Aquileia. Thence he advanced to 1'avia.
where Magnentius gained a considerable ad-
vantage over him. Notwithstanding this loss,
Constantius reduced the whole country bordeunc
on the Po, and Magnentius's men deserted i>>
him in whole troops, delivering up to him tlif
places they had garrisoned; by which the tyrant
was so disheartened that he left Italy, and retired
with all his forces into Gaul. Soon after this,
Africa, Sicily, and Spain, declared tor Constan-
tinus; upon which Magnentius sent a senator,
and after him some bishops, to treat of a j.eace;
but the emperor treated the senator as a spv, and
sent back the bishops without an answer. Find-
ing his affairs now desperate, and that there \\ a>
no hopes of pardon, Magnentius recruited his
army in the best manner he could, and despatched
an assassin into the east to murder GallusCssar.
The assassin gained over some of Gallus's guards ;
but the plot being discovered they were all seized
and executed as traitors. In 353 the war against
Magnentius was carried on with more vigor than
ever, and at last happily ended by a battle fought
in that part of Gaul afterwards called Dauphiny.
Magnentius, being defeated, took shelter in
Lyons: but the few soldiers who attended him,
despairing of any further success, resolved to
purchase the emperor's favor by delivering up to
him his rival. Accordingly they surrounded the
house where he lodged ; upon which the tyrant,
in despair, slew with his own hand his mother,
hte brother Desiderius, whom he had created
Caesar, and such of his friends and relations as
were with him ; and then, fixing his sword in a
wall, threw himself upon it. After the death of
Magnentius, his brother Decentius, finding him-
self surrounded on all sides by the emperor's
forces, chose also to strangle himself. Thus
Constantius was left sole master of the Roman
empire. His panegyrists say that after his vic-
tory he behaved with the greatest humanity, for-
giving and receiving into favor his greatest
enemies, other historians tell us that he now
became haughty, imperious, and cruel, of which
many instances are given. In this year, 353, the
empire was subject to very grievous calamities.
Gaul was ravaged by the barbarians beyond the
Rhine, and the disbanded troops of Magnentius :
at Rome the populace rose on account of a
scarcity of provisions. In Asia the Isauriau
robbers over-ran Lycaonia and Pamphylia and
laid siege to Seleucia. At the same time the
Saracens committed dreadful ravages in Mesopo-
tamia; the Persians also invaded the prov,
of Anthemitsia on the Euphrates. But the Eas-
tern provinces were not so much harassed by
barbarians as by Gallus Caesar himself, who
ought to have protected them. That prince \\
naturally of a cruel, haughty, and tyrannical
disposition ; but, elated with his successes acamst
the Persians, he at last behaved like a madman.
His cruelty is said to have been heiulit.Miwl by
the instigations of his wife Constantinn, who is
ROME.
by Ammianus styled tlie Megwra, or 'fury of
her sex ;' and lie adds that her ambition was
equal to her cruelty. Thus all the provinces and
cities in the east were filled with blood and
misery. No man, however innocent, was sure
to live or enjoy his estate a whole day; for,
Callus's temper being equally suspicious and
cruel, those who had any private enemies took
care to accuse them of crimes against the state.
At last the emperor being informed from all
quarters of his conduct, and also that he aspired
to the sovereignty, resolved upon his ruin. He
wrote letters to Gallus and Constantina, inviting
them both into Italy, and they durst not venture
to disobey the emperor's express command.
Constantina, who was well acquainted with her
brother's temper, set out first, leaving Gallus at
Antiocli : but she hfd scarcely entered the pro-
vince of Bithynia, when she was seized with a
fever which put an end to her life. Gallus, now
despairing of being able to appease his sovereign,
thought of openly revolting; but most of his
friends deserted him, so that he was at last
obliged to submit unreservedly to Constantius.
He advanced, therefore, according to his orders;
but at Pitavium was arrested, and stripped of all
the ensigns of dignity. Thence he was carried
to Flanona, in Dalmatia. He confessed most of
the crimes laid to his charge ; but urged as an ex-
cuse the evil councils of his late wife. The em-
peror, provoked at this plea, and instigated by the
enemies of Gallus, signed a warrant for his ex-
ecution. All this time the emperor had been
engaged in a war with the Germans; and, though
he gained no advantage, the barbarians thought
proper to' make peace with him. This, however,
w:is but short lived. No sooner was the Roman
army withdrawn, than they began to make new
inroads. Against them Constantius despatched
Arbelio with the flower of the army; but he fell
into an ambuscade, and was put to flight with
great loss. This, however, was soon retrieved
by the valor of Arintheus, who became famous
in the reign of Valens, and of two other officers,
who falling upon the enemy, without waiting the
orders of their general, put them to flight, and
obliged them to leave the Roman territory. The
tranquillity of the empire, which ensued on this
repulse of the Germans, was soon interrupted
by a pretended conspiracy, but by which in the
end a true one was produced. Sylvanus, a lead-
ing man among the I' ranks, commanded in Gaul,
and had there performed great exploits against
the barbarians. He had been raised to his post
by Arbetio, only with a design to remove him
from the emperor's presence, in order to accom-
plish his ruin, which he did in the following
manner : one Dynames, leaving Gaul, begged
of Sylvanus letters of recommendation to his
friends at court ; which being granted, the traitor
erased all but the subscription. He then inserted
directions to the friends of Sylvanns for the
carrying on a conspiracy ; and delivering these
forged letters to the prefect Lampridius, they
were by him shown to the emperor. Thus Syl-
vanus was in a manner forced into revolt, and
caused Inmself to be proclaimed emperor. In the
mean time, Dynames having forged another
letter, the fraud was discovered, and an enquiry
set on foot, which brought to light the whole
matter. Sylvanus was declared innocent, and
letters sent to him by the emperor confirming
him in his post : they were scarcely despatched,
when the news arrived of Sylvanus having re-
volted. Thunder-struck at this news, Constan-
tius despatched against him Ursicinus, an officer
of great valor, who, pretending to be Sylvanus's
friend, cut him off by treachery. The barba-
rians, who had been hitherto kept quiet by the
brave Sylvanus, no sooner heard of his death
than they broke, with greater fury than ever, into
Gaul ; and took and pillaged about forty cities,
and among the rest Cologne, which they levelled
with the ground ; while the Quadi and Sarma-
tians, entering Pannonia, destroyed every thing
with fire and sword. The Persians overran,
without opposition, Armenia and Mesopotamia :
Prosper and Mausonianus, who had succeeded
in the government of the east, being more in-
tent upon pillaging than defending the provinces
committed to them. Constantius, not thinking
it advisable to leave Italy, raised his cousin
Julian to the dignity of Caesar.
Julian seems to have been a man of extraordi-
nary talents ; for though hitherto entirely buried
in obscurity, and conversant only with books,
no sooner was he placed at the head of an army
than he behaved with the greatest bravery and
skill. He was appointed governor of Gaul; but
before he set out Constantius gave him in mar-
riage his sister Helena. He, however, limited
his authority ; gave him written instructions
how to behave ; ordered the generals who served
under him to watch his actions, and strictly en-
joined Julian himself not to give any largesses
to the soldiery. Julian set out from Milan on
the 1st of December 355, the emperor himself
accompanying him as far as Pavia ; whence he
pursued his journey to the Alps, attended only
by 360 soldiers. On his arrival at Turin he was
first acquainted with the loss of Cologne. He
arrived at Vienne before the end of the year 355.
In 356 the barbarians besieged Autun. Julian
marched to his relief, but found the siege raised :
on which he pursued the barbarians to Auxerre
and Troies, and put them to flight with a handful
of men. From Troies he hastened to Rheims,
where the main body of the army, commanded
by Marcellus, awaited his arrival. Thence he
took his route towards Decempagi (now Dieuze),
on the Seille in Lorrain, to oppose the Germans
who were ravaging that province. But the enemy
attacking his rear had nearly cut off two legions.
A few days after he defeated the Germans,
though with great loss to his own army : the vic-
tory, however, opened him a way to Cologne.
Here he caused the ancient fortifications to be
repaired, and the houses rebuilt ; after which he
took up his winter quarters at Sens. Constan-
tius entered Germany on the side of Rhuitia, laid
waste the country far and wide ; and obliged the
barbarians to sue for peace. He enacted two
laws : 1. declaring idolatry capital ; and, 2.
granting the effects of condemned persons to their
children and relations within the third degree.
In the beginning of 357 the barbarians besieged
Julian a whole month in Sens : Marcellus, the
commander-in-c'iief, never once offering to assist
R O M E.
him. Julian, lu>-.%vver, >o valiantly dr.
himself with the few forces he had that the bar-
barians at last retired. After this Constantms
declared Julian commander-in-chief of all the
forces in Gaul ; appointing under him one Seve-
rus, an officer of great experience, and of a quite
different disposition from Marcellus. On his
arrival Julian raised new troops, and supplied
them with arms which he found in an old arse-
nal. The emperor, resolving to put a stop to
the terrihle devastations committed chiefly by
the Alemans, wrote to Julian to march directly
against them. At the same time he sent Barbatio,
the successor of Sylvanus, with 25,000 or 30,000
men, out of Italy, in order to enclose the enemy
between two armies. The Leti, however, a Ger-
man nation, passing between the armies, advanced
as far as Lyons, hoping to surprise that wealthy
city ; but, meeting with a warmer reception than
they expected, contented themselves with ra-
vaging the country all round it. On the first
notice of this expedition Julian detached strong
parties to guard the passages through which he
knew the barbarians must return. Thus they
were all cut off except those who marched near
the camp of Barbatio ; who was so far from cut-
ting off their retreat that he complained by a
letter to Constantius of some officers for attempt-
ing it. These officers, among whom was Valen-
tinian, afterwards emperor of the west, were, by
the orders of Constantius, cashiered for their dis-
obedience. The other barbarians either fortified
themselves in the countries which they had
seized, or took shelter in the islands formed by
the Rhine. Julian resolved first to attack the
latter ; and with this view demanded some boats
of Barbatio; but he, instead of complying with
his request, immediately burnt his boats, as he
did on another occasion the provisions which
had been sent to both armies, after he had plen-
tifully supplied his own. Julian, not in the least
disheartened with this unaccountable conduct,
persuaded some of the most resolute of his men
to wade over to one of the islands. Here they
killed all the Germans who had taken shelter in
it. They then seized their boats, and pursued the
slaughter in several other islands, till the enemy
abandoned them ail, and retired, with their wives
and booty, to their respective countries. On their
departure Barbatio attempted to form a bridge
of boats on the Rhine ; but the enemy, apprised
of his intention, threw a great number of huge
'rees into the river; which, being carried by the
stream against the boats, sunk several of them.
The Roman general then retired ; but the har-
barians, falling unexpectedly upon him, cut off
numbers of his men, and returned loaded
with booty. Elated with this success they assem-
bled in great numbers under the command of
Cliiiodomarius, a prince of great renown among
them, and six oilier kinjs. They encamped in
the neighbourhood of Strasburg. Here they
were encountered by Julian, who put them to
flight with the l«»s «f 6000 or 8000 of their men
slain in the field, ami •mmbrr drowned
in the river; while Julian himself lost only 243
m*n and four tribunes. In this •K-II>>II (')modo-
marius was taken and sent \<> IJoiiif, where he
foon alter died. After the battle Julian advaniiJ
with all his army to Mayence, where he built a
bridge over the Rhine, and, having with difficulty
prevailed upon his army to follow him, entered
Germany. Here he ravaged the country, till, being
prevented by snow from advancing, he began to
repair the fort of Trajan, about three or four
leagues from Frankfort. The barbarians, now
alarmed, sent deputies to treat of a peace ; but
this Julian refused to grant upon any terms. lie
consented, however, to a truce of seven months,
upon their promising to store with provisions
the fort he was building. In 358 he took the
field against the Franks, who were divided into
several tribes, the most powerful of which were
the Salii and Chamavi. The first of these he
soon subdued ; after which he allotted them
lands in Gaul, incorporating great numbers into
his cavalry. He next mardned against the Cha-
mavi, whom he defeated and obliged to retire
beyond the Rhine. Afterwards he rebuilt three
forts on the Meuse, which had been destroyed
by the barbarians ; but, wanting provisions, he
ordered 600 or 800 vessels to be built in Britain
to bring corn from thence into Gaul. Julian
continued in the country of the Chauiavi till the
expiration of his truce with the Alemans , and
then, laying a bridge of boats over the Rhine,
entered their country with fire and sword. At
last two of their kings came in person to sue for
peace; which Julian granted on their promising
to set at liberty the captives they had taken ; to
supply a certain quantity of corn when required ;
and to furnish wood, iron, and carriages, for re-
pairing the cities they had ruined. The prisoners
released amounted to upwards of 20,000. Soon
after the vernal equinox Constantius marched
against the Quadi and Sarmatians, whose country
lay beyond the Danube. Having crossed that
river he laid waste the territories of the Sarma-
tians ; who thereupon came in great numbers,
together with the Quadi, pretending to sue for
peace. Their true design was to surprise the
Romans; but the latter, suspecting it, fell upon
them sword in hand. This obliged the rest to
sue for peace in earnest, which was granted on
the delivery of hostages. The emperor then
marched against the Limigantes, i.e. the si
who, in 334, had driven the Sarmatians out of
their country. They used the same artifice as
the Sarmatians and Quadi had done, coming in
great numbers to the emperor under pretence of
submission, but prepared to fall upon him unex-
pectedly. Observing their manner, and distrust-
ing them, he caused his troops to surround then*
insensibly while he was speaking. The Li mi
gantes then displeased with the conditions he
offered them, laid their hands on their swords .
on which they were attacked by the soldii
and, finding it impossible to escape, made with
tury towards the tribunal, where they were
cut in peices. After this the emperor rava
their territories, and obliged them to quit the
country, which was then restored to the Samia-
lian-. This yenr a iian-lity eml>as>y arrived from
Sapor king ot" Persia, -vitii a letter, in which that
monarch styled himself ' king of kings', brother
of the sun and moon,' &c., acquainting the em-
peror that, though he nii^lit insist on having all
the countries beym 1 t ',-.• SiryiiH-n i> M.uedon
ROME.
delivered up to him, lie would be contented with
Armenia and Mesopotamia, which had been un-
justly taken from his grandfather Narses; adding
that, unless justice was done him, he would
assert his right by arms. Constantius wrote in
answer that as lie had maintained the Roman
dominions in their full extent when lie was pos-
sessed only of the east, he could not suffer them
to be curtailed now he was master of the whole
empire. In a few days, however, he sent ano-
ther message with presents; being desirous at
least to put off the war till he had secured the
northern provinces. This embassy proved un-
successful, as did also another which was sent
soon after.
In 359 Julian continued his endeavour for re-
lieving Gaul ; erected magazines in different
places; visited the cities which had suffered
most, and gave orders for repairing the fortifica-
tions. He then crossed the Rhine, and pursued
the war in Germany with such success that the
barbarians submitted to his own terms. in the
mean time the emperor, having received intelli-
gence that theLimigantes had quitted the country
in which he had placed them, hastened to the
banks of the Danube, in order to prevent their
entering Pannonia, and nearly extirpated them.
This year Constantius instituted a court of inqui-
sition against all those who consulted heathen
oracles. Paulus Catena, a cruel informer, was
despatched into the east to prosecute them ; and
Modestus, equally remarkable for his cruelty,
was appointed judge. His tribunal was erected
at Scythopolis in Palestine, whither persons of
botli sexes, and of every rank and condition,
were daily dragged in crowds from all parts, and
torn in pieces by racks, or publicly executed.
In 359 Sapor .king of Persia began hostilities.
During the campaign, however, he made little
progress ; having only taken two Roman forts,
and destroyed the city of Amida, the siege of
which is said to have cost him 30,000 men. On
the first news o? the invasion, Constantius had
sent Ursicinus into the east ; but his enemies
prevented him from receiving the supplies ne-
cessary for carrying on the war. On his return,
he was charged witli the loss of Amida, and all
the disasters that had happened during the cam-
paign. Two judges were appointed to enquire
niio his conduct ; but they left the matter doubt-
f u . On this Ursicinus was so much exasperated
tlut he appealed to the emperor, and, in the heat
«>f passion, let fall some unguarded expressions,
for which he was deprived of all his employ-
ments. Constantius resolved to march next year
in persou against the Persians, and wrote to
Julian to send him part of his forces, without
considering that by so doing he would have left
Gaul exposed. Julian resolved to comply with
the emperor's orders, but to abdicate the dignity
of Ca;sar, that he might not be blamed for the
consequences. Accordingly he suffered the
best soldiers to be draughted: they were, how-
ever, unwilling to leave him, and at last pro-
claimed him emperor. Whether this was done
absolutely against Julian's consent is uncertain ;
but he wrote to the emperor, and persuaded the
whole army also to send a letter, in which they
acquainted Constuntius with what had happened,
and entreated him to acknowledge Julian as his
partner. But this was positively refused by Con-
stantius, who began to prepare for war. Julian,
then, causing his troops to take an oath of alle-
giance to himself, with surprising expedition
made himself master of the whole of Illyricum,
and the important pass separating that country
from Thrace. Constantius was thunder-struck
with this news ; but, hearing that the Persians had
retired, he marched with all his forces against
his competitor. On his arrival at Tarsus in Ci-
Ucia, however, he was seized with a feverish dis-
temper, occasioned chiefly by perplexity of
miud; and, at the foot of Mount Taurus, breathed
his last, on the 13th of November, 361, in the
forty-fifth year of his age.
JULIAN. — By the death of Constantius, Julian
became master of the empire without a rival.
He had been educated in the Christian religion ;
but, having secretly apostatized long before, as
soon as he saw himself master of Illyricum, he
openly caused the temples of the gods to be re-
opened. When the messengers arrived at
Naissus in Illyricum, to acquaint him with Con-
stantius's death, they found him consulting the
entrails of victims concerning the event of hi*
journey : and he immediately set out for Con-
stantinople. At Heraclea he was met by almost
all the inhabitants of this metropolis, into whicli
he made his public entry on the llth of Decem-
ber 361, attended by the senate, magistrates, and
nobility. Here he was again declared emperor
by the senate ; and, as soon as that ceremony
was over, caused the obsequies of Constantius
to be performed with great pomp. His first care
was to enquire into the conduct of the late em-
peror's ministers. Several of these, having been
found guilty of enormous crimes, were con-
demned and executed ; particularly a noted in-
former Catena, and another named Apodamus,
were sentenced to be burnt alive. Along with
these, however, was put to death Ursula, a man
of unexceptionable character, to whom Julian
himself was highly indebted. He next set about
reforming the court : reduced the officers called
agentes in rebus, from 10,000 to seventeen; and
discharged thousands of cooks, barbers, &c., who
by their large salaries drained the exchequer.
The curiosi, whose office it was to inform the
emperor of what had passed in the different pro-
vinces, were all discharged. Thus he was>
enabled to ease the people of the heavy taxes
with which they were loaded, by abating a fifth
part of them throughout the empire. Julian
next invited to court the philosophers, ma-
gicians, &c., from all parts ; but did not raise
any persecution against the Christians. On the
contrary, he recalled from banishment the ortho-
dox bishops who had been exiled during the
former reign ; with a design, however, as is ob-
served both by the Christian and Pagan writers,
to sow dissensions in the church. As the Per-
sians were now preparing to carry on the war
with vigor, Julian resolved to march against them
in person. But before he set out he formed at
Constantinople a large harbour to shelter the
ships from the south wind, built a magnificent
porch leading to it, and erected a fine library, in
which he lodged liis books. In May 362 he de-
R O M E.
parted for Antioch ; and on the 1st of January,
363, renewed in that city the sacrifices of Ju-
piter for the safety of the empire. Duriiiij Ins
stay he continued his preparations for the Per-
sian war, consulting the oracles, aruspices, ma-
gicians, 8tc. Those of Delphi, Delos, and
Dodona, assured him of victory. The aruspices,
indeed, and most of his courtiers and officers,
did all that by in their power to divert him from
his expedition ; but the flattering answers of the
oracles, and the desire of adding the Persian mo-
narch to the many kings he had already seen
humbled at his feet, prevailed. Many nations
sent deputies offering their assistance; whose
offers he rejected, telling them that the Romans
were to assist their allies, but stood in no need of
any assistance from them. He likewise rejected,
and in a very stern manner, the offers of the Sa-
racens ; answering, when they complained of his
stopping the pension paid them by other empe-
rors, that a warlike prince had steel, but no gold.
However, he wrote to Arsaces, king of Armenia,
enjoining him to keep his troops in readiness to
execute the orders he should transmit to him.
Julian now sent orders to his troops to cross the
Euphrates, designing to enter the enemy's coun-
try before they had notice of his march ; and
proceeded himself to Litarba. Thence he went
to Beraa, where he halted a day, and exhorted
the council to restore the worship of the gods ;
as he did also at Batnae ; and was well pleased
with the inhabitants for having before his arrival
restored that worship. He now pursued his
journey to Hierapolis, the capital of Euphrate-
siana, which he reached on the 9th of March.
As he entered this city, fifty of his soldiers were
killed by the fall of ;i porch. He left Hierapo-
lis on the 13th of March ; and, having passed
to Euphrates on a bridge of boats, came to
Batna a city of Osrhoene, about ten leagues
from Hierapolis. From Batnae he proceeded to
Carrhat; where, in the famous temple of the
moon, it is said he sacrificed a woman. While
he continued in this city, he received advice that
a party of the enemy's horse had broken into the
Roman territories: on which he resolved to
leave an army in Mesopotamia, while he ad-
vanced on the other side of the country into the
Persian dominions. This array consisted, ac-
cording to some, of 20,000, others say of
30,000, chosen troops. It was commanded by
Procopius, and Sebastian, a famous Manichean
who had been governor of Egypt. These two
were to join Arsaces king of Armenia, to lay
waste the plains of Media, and meet the empe-
ror in Assyria. To Arsaces Julian himself wrote,
threatening to treat him as a rebel if he did not
execute the orders given him ; and telling him
that the God he adored would not be able to
•creen him from his indignation. There were
two roads leading from Carrhae to Persia ; the
one to the left by Nisibis ; the other to the right
through Assyria, along the banks of the Euphrates.
Julian chose the latter, but caused magazines to
be erected on both roads : and, after having
viewed his army, set out on the 25th of March.
He passed the Abora, which separated the^Ro-
nian and Persian dominions, near its conflux
with th« Euphrates ; after which he broke down
the bridge, that his troops might not desert. As
he proceeded on his march, a soldier and two
horses were struck dead by lightning ; and a
lion of an extraordinary size was despatched by
the soldiers. These omens occasioned great
disputes among the aruspices. Having passed
the Abora, Julian entered Assyria, which he laid
waste; a step which was judged very impolitic.
As he met with no army to oppose him, he ad-
vanced to the walls of Ctesiphon, the metropolis
of the Parthian empire ; and here, having caused
the canal to be cleared, formerly dug by Trajan,
he conveyed his fleet to the banks of the Tigris,
passed that river, and drove the enemy into the
city with the loss of a great number of men : he
himself, in the mean time, losing only seventy-
five. Julian had now advanced so far into the
enemy's country that he found it necessary to
think of a retreat, as it was impossible for lum to
winter there. For this reason he^nade no at-
tempt on Ctesiphon, but began to march back
along the banks of the Tigris. In the mean
time the king of Persia was assembling a for-
midable army ; but, desirous of putting an end
to so destructive a war, sent very advantageous
proposals of peace to Julian. These he impru-
dently rejected ; and soon after, deceived by
treacherous guides, quitted the river, and entered
into an unknown country totally laid waste by
the enemy. A still worse step he was persuaded
to take by these guides, viz. to burn his fleet,
lest it should fall into the hands of the enemy.
As soon as it was set on fire, the whole army
cried out that the emperor was betrayed, and
that the guides were traitors. Julian ordered
them immediately to be put on the rack,
upon which they confessed the treason ; but
it was too late. The fleet was in flames, and
no part was saved except twelve vessels de-
signed to be made use of in the building of
bridges. The emperor thus finding himself in a
strange country, and his army greatly dispirited,
called a council, in which it was resolved to
proceed for Corduene south of Armenia. But
they had not proceeded far when they were met
by the king of Persia, at the head of a very nj-
merous army. Several sharp encounters took
place; and, though the Persians were always de-
feated, the Romans reaped no advantages, beiig
reduced to the last extremity for want of provi-
sions. In one of these attacks, when the Romans
were suddenly assailed, the emperor, eager to re-
pulse the enemy, hastened to the field without
his armor when hereceived a mortal wound by a
dart, which pierced through his side to his liver.
Of this wound he died the same night, 26th of
June, 363, in the thirty-second year of his a^u,
after having reigned scarcely twenty months.
JOVIAN. — As Julian had declined naming any
successor, the army unanimously chose Jovian,
a very able commander, whose father had lately
resigned the post of comes domesticorum. The
valor and experience of Jovian, however, were
not sufficient to extricate the Roman army from
the difficulties in which they had been plunged.
Famine raced in the camp to such a degree that
not a sinule man would have been left had not
the Persians unexpectedly sent proposals of
peace, which were received with great joy. The
R O M E.
terms were, that Jovian should restore to the
Persians the five provinces which had heen taken
from them in the reign of Dioclesian, with seve-
ral castles, and the cities of Nisibis and Singara.
After the conclusion of the treaty, Jovian pur-
sued his march homeward. When he arrived at
Anlioch he revoked all the laws made by Julian
against Christianity ; espoused the cause of the
orthodox Christians against the Arians ; and re-
called all those who had been formerly banished,
particularly Athanasius. But he did not live to
make any great alterations, or even to visit his
capital as emperor ; for in his way to Constan-
tinople he was found dead in his bed, on the
17th of February, 364, in his thirty-third year,
when he had reigned only seven months and
forty days.
VALENTINIAN AND VALENS. — Valentinian
was now chosen emperor. Immediately on his
accession, the soldiers with great clamor required
him to choose a colleague. In a few days he
named his brother Valens ; and, as the empire
was threatened on all sides with an invasion of
the barbarous nations, he thought proper to di-
vide it. This famous partition was made at
Mediana in Dacia: when Valens had for his
share the whole of Asia, Egypt, and Thrace; and
Valentinian all the west ; that is, Illyricum, Italy,
Gaul, Spain, Britain and Africa. After this
Valens returned to Constantinople, where the
beginning of his reign was disturbed by the revolt
of Procopius, a relation of Julian. On the death
of that emperor, he had fled into Taurica Cher-
sonesus for fear of Jovian ; but returned in dis-
guise, where, having gained over Eugenius, a
eunuch of great wealth, disgraced by Valens, and
some officers who commanded the troops sent
against the Goths, he got himself proclaimed em-
peror. At first he was joined only by the lowest
of the people, but at length he was acknowledged
by the city of Constantinople. On the news of
this revolt, Valens despatched some troops
against the usurper ; but these were gained over,
and Procopius continued for some time to gain
ground. It is probable he would finally have
succeeded, had he not become so much elated
with his good fortune that he grew tyrannical.
In consequence of this he was first abandoned by
some of his principal officers; and soon after
defeated in battle, taken prisoner, and put to
death. This revolt produced a war betwixt
Valens and the Goths. The latter, having been
solicited by Procopius, had sent 3000 men to his
assistance. On hearing the news of the usurper's
death, they marched back : but Valens detached
against them a body of troops, who took them all
prisoners. Athanaric, king of the Goths, expos-
tulated with Valens ; but that emperor proving
obstinate, both parties prepared for war. In
367 and 369 Valens gained great advantages
over his enemies : and obliged them to sue for
peace. The rest of this reign contains nothing
remarkable, except the cruelty with which Va-
lens persecuted the orthodox clergy. The latter
sent eighty of their number to lay their com-
plaints before him ; but he, instead of giving
them any relief, determined to put them all to
death. A persecution was also commenced
against the magicians, which occasioned the de-
struction of many innocent persons ; for books
and persons of all ranks were seized wilh such
terror at his severity on this point, that many burnt
their libraries, lest books of magic should have
been secretly conveyed into them. In 373 the
Goths, whom Valens had admitted into Thrace,
advanced from that province to Macedon and
Thessaly. They afterwards blocked up Con-
stantinople, plundered the suburbs, and at last
totally defeated and killed the emperor. The
day after the battle, hearing that an immense
treasure was lodged in Adrianople, the barbarians
laid siege to that place : but were repulsed with
great slaughter. Great numbers of them after
this were cut in pieces by the Saracens, whom
Maria their queen had sent to the assistance a
the Romans ; so that they were obliged to aban-
don this design likewise, and retire from the
neighbourhood of the capital In the beginning
of the reign of Valentinian the province of Libya
Tripolitana was grievously oppressed by the bar-
barians of the desert, and almost equally so by
Romanus its own governor. His conduct was
so exceedingly oppressive that the inhabitants
sent a deputation to Valentinian, complaining of
their unhappy situation, and desiring redress.
Palladius was accordingly sent to inquire into
the state of the province; but he made a false
report to the emperor, and thus the unhappy
province was left a prey to the merciless invaders
and rapacious governor. During the rest of this
reign the barbarians continued their inroads into
the empire. Valentinian expired in the year 375,
the fifty-fifth of his age, and twelfth of his reign.
GRATIAN AND THEODOSIUS. — At the death of
Valens trie eastern and western empires again fell
into the hands of a single person. This was
Gratian, who had held the empire of the west
after the death of Valeutinian. He repulsed
many barbarous nations who threatened the em-
pire with dissolution; but, finding himself press-
ed on all sides, he, on the 19th of January 379,
declared Theodosius his partner in the empire,
and committed to his care all the provinces
which had been governed by Valens. Theodo-
sius is greatly extolled by historians for his ex-
traordinary valor and piety ; and has even been
honored with the surname of the Great. From
the many persecuting laws, however, made in his
time, it would seem that his piety was misguided ;
and that, if he was naturally humane and com-
passionate, superstition often obscured these vir-
tues. He certainly was a man of great military
talent, and the state of the empire called for all
his abilities. The provinces of Dacia, Thrace,
and Illyricum, were already lost ; the Goths,
Taisali, Alans, and Hunns, were masters of the
greatest part of these provinces, and had ravaged
and laid waste the rest. The Iberians, Arme-
nians, and Persians, were in arms, and ever
ready to take advantage of the distracted state of
the empire. The few soldiers who had survived
the late defeat kept within the strong holds of
Thrace. In the year 379 many victories are
said to have been obtained by Theodosius ; but
the accounts of these are so contradictory that
no stress can be laid upon them. In February
380 he was seized with a dangerous malady, so
that Gratian was obliged to carry on the war
10
ROME.
alone. Apprehending that the neighbouring
barbarians might break into some of the pro-
vinces, he concluded a peace with the Goths,
which was confirmed by Theodosius on his re-
covery. But they had no sooner heard that
Gratian had left Illyricum, than they passed the
Danube, and, breaking into Thrace and Pannonia,
advanced as far as Macedon, destroying all with
fire and sword. Theodosius, drawing together
his forces, marched against them, and gained a
complete victory. In 381 Athanaric, the most
powerful of all the Gothic princes, being driven out
by a faction at home, recurred to Theodosius, by
whom he .was received with great tokens of
friendship. He went out to meet him, and at-
tended him with a numerous retinue into the
city. The Gothic prince died the same year ;
and Theodosius caused him to be buried after
the Roman manner, with such pomp and solem-
nity that the Goths, who attended him in his
flight, returned home with a resolution never
more to molest the Romans. Nay, out of grati-
tude to the emperor, they took upon them to
guard the banks of the Danube, and prevent the
empire from being invaded. In 383 Maximus
revolted against Gratian in Britain ; and in the
end murdered him, and assumed the empire of
the West himself. Gratian had now divided his
dominions with his brother Valentinian II.,
whom he allowed to reign in Italy and West II-
lyricum, reserving the rest to himself. Maximus
therefore, immediately after his usurpation, sent
deputies to Theodosius, assuring him that he had
no designs on the dominions of Valentinian. As
Theodosius at that time found himself in danger
from the barbarians, he not only therefore fore-
bore to attack Maximus, but even acknowledged
him for his partner in the empire. It was not
long, however, before the ambition of the usurper
prompted him to break his promise. In 387 he
passed the Alps on a sudden ; and, meeting with
no opposition, marched to Milan, where Valen-
tinian usually resided. The young prince fled
to Aquileia ; and thence to Thessalonica, to im-
plore the protection, of Theodosius ; who,, in
answer, informed him that he was not surprised
at the usurper's progress, as he had protected,
and Valentinian had persecuted, the orthodox
C'liristians. At last he prevailed on the young
prince to renounce Arianism, and promised to
assist him with all the forces of the east. He
first, however, sent messengers to Maximus, de-
siring him to restore the provinces he had taken
from Valentinian, and content himself with Gaul,
Spain, and Britain. But the usurper would
hearken to no terms. This year he besieged and
t ok Aquileia, Quaderna, Bononia, Mutina,
.mm, Plncentia, and many other cities in
Italy. In 388 he was acknowledged in Rome,
and in all the provinces of Africa. Theodosius,
therefore, finding a war inevitable, made prepa-
rations for it. His army consisted chiefly of
Goths, Ilunns, Alans, and other barbarians,
whom he was glad to take into the service, to
prevent their raising disturbances on the frontiers.
lie defeated Maximus in two battles, took him
prisoner, and put him to death; and, the usurper
having left his son Victor in Gaul, the »-ni|><-r'>r
despatched against him Arbogastes., who took
him prisoner, dispersed his troops, anil put him
also to death. This victory was used by Theo-
dosius with great moderation. In 389 he took
a journey to Rome, and abolished idolatry.
The next year was remarkable for the destruction
of the celebrated temple of Serapis in Alexan-
dria ; which, according to the description of
Ammianus Marcellinus, surpassed all others in
the world, that of Jupiter Capitolinus excepted.
Not satisfied with the destruction of the Alexan-
drian temples, the zealous Theophilus, bishop of
Alexandria, encouraged the people to pull down
all the other temples, chapels, &c., set apart for
the pagan worship, and the statues of the gods to
be either burnt or melted. Of the innumerable
statues which at that time were in Egypt, he
spared but one, viz. that of an ape, to expose the
;ii religion to ridicule. On his return to
Constantinople, Theodosius ordered such tem-
ples as were yet standing to be thrown down,
and the Arians to be every where driven out of
the cities.
In 392 Valentinian II. was treacherously
murdered by Arbogastes his general ; who, in-
stead of seizing on the sovereignty himself, chose
to confer it upon Eugenius. This new usurper,
though a Christian, was greatly favored In the
Pagans, who were all apprized that he only bore
the title of emperor, while the whole power
lodged in Arbogastes who pretended to be greatly
attached to their religion. The aruspices in-
formed him that he was destined to the empire
of the whole world ; that he would soon gain a
complete victory over Theodosius, who was as
much hated as Eugenius was beloved by the
gods, &c. But, though Eugenius seemed to fa-
vor the Pagans, yet he wrote to St. Ambrose.
The holy man did not answer his letter till he
was pressed by some friends to recommend them
to the new prince; and then he wrote to this in-
famous usurper with all the respect due to an
emperor. Soon after his accession, Eugenius
sent deputies to Theodosius ; and they are said
to have been received by him in a very gracious
manner. He did not, however, enter into any
alliance with him, but immediately began his
military preparations. In 394 he set out from
Constantinople, and was at Adrianople on the
15th of June that year. He bent his march
through Dacia, and the other provinces between
Thrace and the Julian Alps, with a design to
force the passages of these mountains, and break
into Italy before the army of Eugenius was in a
condition to oppose him. On his arrival at the
Alps, he found these passes guarded by Flavia-
nus, prefect of Italy, at the head of a considerable
body of Roman troops. These were utterly de-
feated by Theodosius, who thereupon crossed the
Alps and advanced into Italy. lie was soon
met by Eugeniits ; and a bloody battle ensued,
without any decisive advantage on either side.
The next day the emperor led his troops in per-
son against the enemy, utterly defeated them,
and took their camp. Eugenius was taken pri-
soner by his own men, and brought to Theodo-
sius, who reproached him with the murder of
\ alciitinian, with the calamities he had brought
on the empire by his unjust usurpation, and
with the putting his confidence in Hercules, and
ROME.
II
not in the true God ; for on his chief standard
he had displayed the image of that fabulous hero.
Eugenius begged easnestly for his life ; but,
while he lay prostrate at his feet, his own sol-
diers cut off his head, and, carrying it about on
the point of a spear, showed it to those in the
camp who had not yet submitted. At this they
were thunderstruck ; but being informed that
Theodosius was ready to receive them into favor
they threw down their arms. Arbogastes, after
this, despairing of pardon, fled to the mountains;
Imt being informed that diligent search was
made for him killed himself. His children, and
those of Eugenius, took sanctuary in churches ;
l>ut the emperor restored to them their paternal
i states, and raised them to considerable employ-
ments. Soon after this, Theodosius appointed
his son Ilonorius emperor of the west, assigning
him for his share, Italy, Gaul, Spain, Africa, and
West Illyricum. The next year he was seized
with a dropsy, and made his will ; by which he
bequeathed the empire of the East to Arcadius,
and confirmed Honorius in the possession of the
West. He likewise confirmed the pardon he
had granted to all those who had borne arms
against him, and remitted a tribute which had
proved very buidensome to the people. He
died at Milan on the 17th January 395, in the
sixteenth year of his reign and fiftieth of his age.
PART IV.
THE WESTERN EMPIRE.
We now trace, distinctly, the regular and ra-
pid decline of the Western Empire. The death
of Theodosius gave the finishing stroke to its
prosperity ; his son Ilonorius, to whom he left
this part of the empire, being possessed of no
abilities. The barbarians appear to have been
abundantly sensible of this. Theodosius died in
January ; and before spring the GotUs were in
arms. They were now headed by an experienced
commander, their celebrated king ALAIUC (see
that article), who would have proved formidable
oven in better times of the empire. He first
overran Greece: Athens, Corinth, Argos, and
Sparta, yielding without resistance; and the pass
of Thermopylae being betrayed to him. At last, in
397, he was oppesed by Stilicho, the general of
Honorius, a man of great experience in war. who
defeated him with great loss. Alaric, however,
found means to conclude a treaty with the ministers
of Constantinople. In a subsequent conflict in
Italy the wife of Alaric was taken, with all the
wealth which had been amassed in plundering
Greece. The victory, however, was not so deci-
sive but that Alaric continued still formidable ;
and Stilicho chose rather to conclude a treaty
with him. Alaric, who was not very scrupulous
in his observance of this treaty, attempted in his
retreat to make himself master of Verona ; but
Stilicho, again coming up with him near that
place, gavehim a third terrible defeat : after which
he effected a retreat out of Italy, but not without
the greatest difficulty and danger.
Italy being thus delivered, Honorius entered
Home in triumph, having Stilicho along with
Mini in the triumphal chariot. Soon after, how-
CUT, the emperor was obliged to leave the me-
tropolis and retire to Ravenna, to secure himself
from the barbarians, who now broke in upon the
empire on all sides. Gibbon accounts for it from
a supposed revolution in the north-east parts of
China. ' About four years,' he says ' after the
victorious Toulon had assumed the title of khan
of the Gougen, another barbarian, the haughty
Rhodogast, or Radagaisus, marched from the
northern extremities of Germany almost to the
gates of Rome, and left the remains of his army
to achieve the destruction of the west. The
Vandals, the Suevi, and the Burgundians, formed
the strength of this mighty host : but the Alani,
who had, found an hospitable reception in their
new seats, added their active cavalry to the heavy
infantry of the Germans ; and the Gothic adven-
turers crowded so eagerly to the standard of Ra-
dagaisus, that by some historians he has been
styled the king of the Goths : 12,000 warriors,
distinguished above the vulgar by their noble
birth or their valiant deeds, glittering in the
van ; and the wliole multitude, which was not
less than 200,000 fighting men might be increased
by the accession of women, of children, and of
slaves to the amount of 400,000 persons. This
formidable emigration issued from the same
coast of the Baltic which had poured forth the
myriads of the Cimbfi and Teutones to assault
Rome and Italy in the vigour of the republic.
After the departure of those barbarians, their
native country, which was marked by the vestiges
of their greatness, long ramparts, and gigantic
moles, remained during some ages a vast and
dreary solitude ; till the human species was re-
newed by the powers of generation; and the
vacancy was filled up by the influx of new in-
habitants. The safety of Rome was intrusted to
the counsels and the sword of Stilicho ; but such
was the feeble and exhausted state of the empire
that it was impossible to restore the fortifica-
tions of the Danube, or to prevent, by a vigorous
effort, the invasion of the Germans. The hopes
of the vigilant minister of Honorius were con-
fined to the defence of Italy. He once more
abandoned the provinces ; recalled the troops ;
pressed the new levies, which were rigorously
exacted, and pusillanrmously eluded ; employed
the most efficacious means to arrest or allure the
deserters ; and offered the gift of freedom, and
of two pieces of gold, to all the slaves who
would enlist. By these efforts he painfully col-
lected from the subjects of a great empire an
army of 30,000 or 40,000 men ; which, in the
days of Scipio and Camillus, would have been
instantly furnished by the free citizens of the
territory of Rome. The thirty legions of Sti-
licho were reinforced by a large body of barba-
rian auxiliaries ; the faithful Alani were person-
ally attached to his service ; and the troops of
Huns and of Goths, who marched under the
banners of their native princes, Hultien and
Sarus, were animated by interest and resentment
to oppose the ambition of Radagaisus. The
king of the confederate Germans passed, with-
out resistance, the Alps, the Po, and the Appe-
nines : leaving on one hand the inaccessible
palace of Honorius, securely buried among the
marshes of Ravenna; and, on the other, the
(amp of Stilicho, who had fixed his head-quar-
ROME.
ters alTicmum, or I'av ia, but who seems to have
avoided a decisive battle till lie had assembled
his distant forces. Many cities of Italy were
pillaged, or destroyed ; and the sies;e of Florence
by Radagaisus is one of the earliest events in the
history of that celebrated republic, whose firm-
ness checked and delayed the unskilful fury of
the barbarians. The senate and people trembled
at their approach within 180 miles of Rome;
and anxiously compared the danger which they
had escaped with the new perils to which they
were exposed. Alaric was a Christian, and a
soldier, the leader of a disciplined army ; who
understood the laws of war, who respected the
sanctity of treaties, and who had familiarly
conversed with the subjects of the empire
in the same camps and the same churches.
The savage Iladagaisus was a stranger to the
manners, the religion, and even the language
of the civilised nations of the south. The
fierceness of his temper was exasperated by
cruel superstition ; and it was universally be-
lieved that he had bound himself by a solemn
vow to reduce the city into a heap of stones and
ashes, and to sacrifice the most illustrious of the
itornan senators on the altars of those gods who
were appeased by human blood. Florence was
reduced to the last extremity. On a sudden
they beheld from their walls the banners of
Stilicho, who advanced with his united forces
to the relief of the faithful city; and who soon
marked that fatal spot for the grave of the bar-
1-urian host. The apparent contradictions of
those writers who variously relate the defeat of
Iladagaisus may be reconciled without offering
much violence to their respective testimonies.
Their extravagant assertion that not a single
soldier of the Christian army was killed, or even
wounded, may be dismissed ; but the rest of the
narrative of Augustin and Orosius is consistent
with the sta»e of the war and the character of
Stilicho. Conscious that he commanded the
last army of the republic, his prudence would
not expose it in the open field to the headstrong
fury of the Germans. The method of surround-
ing the eiiemy with strong lines of circumvalla-
tion, which he had twice employed against the
Gothic king, was repeated on a larger scale, and
with more considerable effect. The example of
Caesar must have been familiar to the most illi-
terate of the Roman warriors ; and the fortifica-
tions of Dyrrhachium, which connected twenty-
four castles by a perpetual ditch and rampart of
fifteen miles, afforded the model of an intrench-
ment, which might confine and starve the most
numerous host of barbarians. The imprisoned
multitude of horses and men were gradually de-
stroyed by famine, rather than by the sword ;
but the Romans were exposed, during the pro-
gress of such an extensive work, to the frequent
attacks of an impatient enemy. The despair of
the hungry barbarians would precipitate them
against the fortifications of Stilicho ; the ge-
neral might sometimes indulge the ardour of his
brave auxiliaries, who eagerly pressed to assault
the camp of the Germans ; and these various
incidents might produce the sharp and bloody
conflicts which dignify the narrative of Zosimus,
and the Chronicles of Prosper and Marcel) inus.
A seasonable supply of men and provisions had
been introduced into the walls of Florence; and
the famished host of Radagaisus was in its turn
besieged. The proud monarch of so many war-
like nations, after the loss of his bravest warriors,
was reduced to confide either in the faith of a
capitulation, or in the clemency of Stilicho. But
the death of the royal captive, who was igno-
miniously beheaded, disgraced the triumph of
Rome and of Christianity; and the short delay
of his execution was sufficient to brand the
conqueror with the guilt of cool and deliberate
cruelty. The famished Germans who escaped
the fury of the auxiliaries were sold as slaves, at
the contemptible price of as many single pieces
of gold : but the difference of food and climate
swept away great numbers of those unhappy
strangers ; and it was observed that the inhuman
purchasers, instead of reaping the fruit of their
labors, were soon obliged to add to it the ex-
pense of interring them. Stilicho informed the
emperor and the senate of his success ; and de-
seived a second time the glorious title of Deli-
verer of Italy.'
' The fame of Stilicho's victory,' continues
this historian, ' has encouraged a vain persuasion
that the whole army, or rather nation, of Ger-
mans, who migrated from the shores of the
Baltic, miserably perished under the walls of
Florence. Such indeed was the fate of Rada-
gaisus himself, of his brave and faithful com-
panions, and of more than one-third of t r
various multitude of Sueveb and Vandals, of
Alani and Burgundians, who adhered to the
standard of their general. The union of such
an army might excite our surprise, but the causes
of separation are obvious and1 forcible; they
were the pride of birth, the insolence of valor, ;ho
jealousy of command, the impatience of subordi-
nation, and the obstinate conflict of opinions, of
interests, and of passions, among so many kings
and warriors, who were untaught to yield or to
obey. After the defeat of Iladagaisus, two parts
of the German host, vfhich must have exceeded
the number of 100,000 men, still remained in
arms between the Appenines and the Alps, or
between the Alps and the Danube. It is un-
certain whether they attempted to revenge the
death of their general : but their irregular fury
was soon diverted by the prudence and firmness
of Stilicho, who opposed their march, and facili-
tated their retreat ; who considered the safety of
Rome and Italy as the great object of his care,
and who sacrificed with too much indifference
the wealth and tranquillity of the distant pro-
vinces. The barbarians acquired from the junc-
tion of some Pannonian deserters the knowledge
of the country and of the roads, and the invasion
of Gaul, which Alaric had defined, was executed
by the remains of the great army of Radagaisus.
when the limits of Gaul and Germany were
shaken by the northern emigration, the Franks
bravely encountered the single force of the Van-
dals ; who had again separated their troops from
the standard of their barbarian allies. They
paid the penalty of their rashness : and 20,000
Vandals, with their king Godegisdus, wen' slain
in the field of battle. The whole people must
•have been extirpated, if the squadrons of the
ROME.
Alani, advancing to their relief, had not trampled
down the infantry of the V ranks ; who, after an
honorable resistance, were compelled to relin-
quish the unequal contest. The victorious con-
federates pursued their march; and on the last
•day of the year, in a season when the waters of
the Rhine were most probably frozen, they en-
tered without opposition the defenceless pro-
vinces of Gaul. This memorable passage of the
Suevi, the Vandals, the Alani, and the Burgun-
dians, who never afterwards retreated, may be
considered as the fall of the Roman empire in
the countries beyond the Alps ; and the barriers
which had so long separated the savage and the
civilised nations of the earth were from that
fatal moment levelled with the ground. While
the peace of Germany was secured by the attach-
ment of the Franks and the neutrality of the
Alemanni, the subjects of Rome, unconscious of
their approaching calamities, enjoyed a state of
quiet and prosperity which had seldom blessed
the frontiers of Gaul. This scene of peace and
plenty was suddenly changed into a desert, and
the prospect of the smoking ruins could alone
distinguish the solitude of nature from the deso-
lation of man. The flourishing city of Mentz
wasp surprised and destroyed ; and many thou-
sand Christians weie inhumanly massacred in
the church. Worms perished after a long and
oostinate siege : Strasburg, Spires, Rheims, Tour-
nay, Arras, Amiens, experienced the most cruel
oppression of the German yoke ; and the con-
suming flames of war spread from the banks of
the Rhine over the greatest part of the seventeen
provinces of Gaul. That ri h and extensive
country, as far as the Ocean, the Alps, and the
Pyrenees, was delivered to the barbarians, who
drove before them in a promiscuous crowd the
bishop, the senator, and the virgin, laden with
the spoils of their houses and altars.'
In the midst of these calamities, a revolt hap-
pened in Britain, where one Constantino, a com-
mon soldier, was raised to the imperial throne,
merely for the sake of his name. He governed
Britain with great prosperity; passed over into
Gaul and Spain, the inhabitants of which submit-
ted without opposition, being glad of any pro-
tector whatever from the barbarians. Honorius,
incapable of defending the empire, or repressing
the revolt, was obliged to acknowledge him for
his partner in the empire.
In the mean time Alaric, with his Goths,
threatened a new invasion, unless he was paid a
certain sum of money ; and Stilicho, having ad-
vised a compliance with this demand was accused,
after all his services, of corrupt motives, and put
to death. The money, however, not being readily
sent, Alaric laid siege to Rome, and would have
taken it, had not the emperor finally complied with
his demand. The ransom of the city was 5000 Ibs.
of gold, 30,000 of silver, 4000 silk garments,
3000 skins dyed purple, and 3000 Ibs. of pepper.
On tliis occasion, the heathen temples were
stripped of their remaining ornaments, and
among others of the statue of Valor; which the
Pagans did not fail to interpret as a presage of the
speedy ruin of the state. Alaric, having received
this treasure, departed for a short time ; but soon
after he again blocked up the city with a nume-
rous army ; and again an accommodation with
Honorius was set on foot. However, Rome- w.i ,
a third time besieged, and at last taken and plun-
dered. Procopius says that there was not in the
whole city one house left entire ; and both St.
Jerome und Philostorgius assert that the great
metropolis of the empire was reduced to a heap
of ashes and ruins. Though many of the Goths,
pursuant to the orders of their general, refrained
from shedding the blood of such as made no re-
sistance ; yet others more cruel and blood-thirsty,
massacred all they met : so that in some quarters
the streets were seen covered with dead bodies,
and swimming in blood. However, not the least
injury was offered to those who fled to the
churches ; nay the Goths themselves conveyed
thither, as to places of safety, such as they were
desirous should be spared. Many of the statues
of the gods, that had been left entire by the em-
perors as excellent pieces of art, were on this
occasion destroyed, either by the Goths, who,
though mostly Arians, were zealous Christians,
or by a dreadful storra of thunder and lightning
which fell at the same time upon the city, as if it
had been sent on purpose to complete with them
the destruction of idolatry. Some writers, how-
ever, affirm that the city suffered very little at this
time, not so much as when it was taken by
Charles V. Alaric did not long survive the taking
of Rome, being cut off by a violent fit of sick-
ness in the neighbourhood of Rhegium.
After his death the affairs of Honorius seemed
a little to revive by the defeat and death of Con-
stantine and some other usurpers ; but the pro-
vinces of Gaul, Britain, and Spain, were now
almost entirely occupied by barbarians, in which
state they continued till the death of Honorius,
which happened in the year 423, after an unfor-
tunate reign of twenty-eight years.
VALENTIMAN III. — After some usurpations
which took place on his death, his nephew Va-
lentinian III. was declared emperor of the west,
and his mother, Placidia, regent during his mi-
nority. He was scarcely seated on the throne,
when the empire was attacked by the Huns
under the celebrated Am LA (see that article).
The empress then had two celebrated generals,
Bonifacius and Aetius ; who by their union
might have saved the empire ; but, unhappily,
through the treachery of Aetius, Bonifacius
revolted, and a civil war ensued. Aetius,
notwithstanding his treachery, was pardoned,
and put at the head of the forces. He defended
it against Attila with great spirit and success,
notwithstanding the deplorable situation of af-
fairs, till he was murdered by Valentinian with
his own hand. In the mean time, the provinces,
except Italy itself, were totally over-run by the
barbarians. Genseric, king of the Vandals, ra-
vaged Africa and Sicily ; the Goths, Suevians,
Burgundians, &c., had taken possession of Gaul
and Spain ; and 'the Britons were oppressed by
the Scots and Picts, so that they were obliged
to call in the Saxons to their assistance. In the
year 455 Valentinian was murdered by one
Maximus, whose wife he had ravished.
MAXIMUS immediately assumed the empire;
hut felt such violent anxieties that he designed
to resign it, and fiy out of Italy, to enjoy the
14
ROME.
quiet of a private life. However, being dis-
suaded from this by his friends, and his own wife
dying soon after, he forced the empress Eu-
doxia to marry him. Kudoxia, who had ten-
derly loved Valentinian, provoked beyond mea-
sure at being married to his murderer, invited
Genseric king of the Vandals into Italy. This
proved a most fatal scheme ; for Genseric im-
mediately appeared before Rome ; a violent
tumult ensued, in which Maximus lost his life;
and the city was taken and plundered by Gen-
seric, who carried off what had been left by the
Goths. A vessel was loaded with costly statues ;
half the covering of the capitol, which was of
brass plated over with gold ; sacred vessels en-
riched with precious stones ; and those which
had been taken by Titus out of the temple of
Jerusalem ; all of which were lost with the ves-
sel in its passage to Africa.
MARJOUIA-SUS. — Nothing could now be more
deplorable than the state of the Roman affairs ;
nevertheless, the Western empire continued to ex-
ist for some few years ; and even seemed to revive
for a little under Marjorianus, who was declared
emperor in 458. He was a man of great cou-
rage, and possessed of many other excellent
qualities. He defeated the Vandals, and drove
them out of Italy. With great labor he fitted
out a fleet, of which the Romans had been long
destitute. With this he designed to pass over
into Africa ; but, it being surprised and burnt by
the enemy, he himself was soon after murdered
by one Ilicimer, a Goth, who had long governed
every thing with an absolute sway. After the
death of Marjorianus, Athemius was raised to
the empire : but, beginning to counteract Rici-
iner, the latter openly revolted, and besieged and
took Rome ; where be committed innumerable
cruelties, among the rest putting to death the
emperor Anthemius, and raising one Olybius to
the empire.
The transactions of Olybius's reign were very
few, as he died soon after his accession. On his
death Glycerius usurped the empire. He was
deposed in 474, and Julius Nepos had the name
of emperor. He was driven out the next year
by his general Orestes, who caused his son Ro-
mulus Augustulus to be proclaimed emperor.
But the following year, 476, the barbarians who
served in the Roman armies, and were distin-
guished with the title of allies, demanded, as a
reward for their services, the third part of the
lands in Italy ; pretending that the whole coun-
try, which they had so often defended, belonged
of right to them. As Orestes refused to comply
with this insolent demand, they resolved to do
themselves justice, as they called it ; and, openly
revolting, chose one Odoacer for their leader.
Odoacer was, according to Ennodius, meanly
born, and only a private man in the guards of
the emperor Augustulus, when the barbarians,
revolting, chose him for their leader. However
he is said to have been a man of uncommon
ability. He marched against Orestes anil his M,U
Aaguttutolj who still refused to give them any
share of the lands in Italy. As the Roman
troops were inferior, both in number and valor,
to the barbarians, Orestes took n fu^c in Pavia,
ut that time one of tin; l>cst iWtilird cities in
Italy ; but Odoacer, investing the place without
loss of time, took it soon after by assault,
gave it up to be plundered by the soldiers,
and then set fire to it. Orestes being taken
prisoner, and brought to Odoacer, he carried
him to Placentia, and there caused him to be
put to death on the 28th of August, the day on
which he had driven Nepos out of Ravenna,
and obliged him to abandon the empire. From
Placentia Odoacer marched straight to Ravenna,
where he found Paul, the brother of Orestes,
and the young emperor Augustulus. The former
he immediately hut to death ; but sparing Augus-
tulus, in consideration of his youth, he stripped him
of the ensigns of the imperial dignity, and confined
him to Lucullanum, a castle in Campania; where
he was treated with great humanity, and al-
lowed a handsome maintenance. Rome readily
submitted to the conqueror, who immediately
caused himself to be proclaimed king of Italy,
but would not assume the purple. Thus
failed the very name of an empire in the west.
Britain had been long abandoned by the Ro-
mans ; Spain was held by the Goths and Sue-
vans ; Africa by the Vandals : the Burgundians,
Goths, Franks, and Alans, had erected several
tetrarchies in Gaul ; at length Italy itself, with
its proud metropolis, which for so many ages
had given law to the rest of the world, was en-
slaved by a contemptible barbarian, whose family,
country, and nation, are not well known to this
day.
PART V.
EASTERN, OR COXSTA-NTINOPOLITAN
EMPIRE.
From the death of Theodosius to the time
when the Roman empire in the west was totally
destroyed by the Goths, we find little remarkable
in the history of Constantinople ; or during the
reigns of Theodosius II., Marcian and Leo I
and II., except that Leo II., who had been asso-
ciated by his maternal grandfather, (Leo I.) re-
signed in favor of his father Zeno, whom lie
crowned with his own hands. When the wes-
tern empire ended in Augustulus, the FasU-rn
was usurped by Basiliscus, who had driven out
Zeno the lawful emperor. Zeno fled into Isauria,
where he was pursued by Illus and Treconde*,
two of the usurper's generals ; who, having easily
defeated the few troops he had with him, forced
the unhappy prince to shut himself up in a castle,
which they immediately invested. But in a short
time Basiliscus having become obnoxious to the
people by his cruelty, avarice, and other bad
qualities, his generals joined with Zeno, whom
they restored to the throne. After his restoration,
Zeno having got Baisliscus into his power, con-
fined him in a castle of Cappadocia, together
with his wife Zenonide, where they both perished
with hunger and cold, A. D. 478, after Basilis-
cus had reigned about twenty months. During
the time of this usurpation a fire happened at
Constantinople, which consumed great part of
the city, with the library containm;-' 1 '20,001) M>-
lumes ; amon,- which were the works of Homer,
written, it is slid, on ll .; of -i d;
u u
120 feet long. Zeno was not improved by his
misfortunes. He still continued the same vicious
courses which had given occasion to the usurpa-
tion of Basiliscus ; yet, though other conspiracies
were formed against him, he had the good for-
tune to escape them. He engaged in a war
with the Ostrogoths, in which he proved unsuc-
cessful, and was obliged to yield the provinces
of Lower Uacia and Mcesia to them. In 484
Theodoric, their king, made an irruption into
Thrace, and advanced within fifteen miles of
Constantinople ; but the following year they re-
tired in order to attack Odoacer king of Italy,
of which country Theodoric was proclaimed
king in 493. The emperor Zeno died in 491, in
the sixty-fifth year of his age, and seventeenth
of his reign. The Roman empire had long been
on the decline, before it fell a prey to the Goths.
The ancient valor and military discipline, which
had rendered the Romans superior to other na-
tions, had now greatly degenerated. But what
proved of the greatest detriment was the allow-
ing vast swarms of barbarians to settle in the
different provinces, and to serve in the empire
in separate and independent bodies. This had
proved the immediate cause of the dissolution of
the western empire; but, as it affected the eastern
I 'arts less, the Constantinopolitan empire conti-
nued for near 1000 years after the western was
totally dissolved. The weak administrations of
Zeno, and Anastasius I., who succeeded him,
rapidly reduced the eastern empire; and it might
possibly have fallen soon after the western one,
had not the wise and vigorous conduct of Justin,
and his partner Justinian, revived in some mea-
sure the ancient martial spirit. Justin ascended
the throne in 518. In 521 he engaged in a war
with the Persians, who had long been very for-
midable enemies. Against them he employed
the famous Belisarius ; but nothing remarkable
happened till after the accession of Justinian.
Ji 'STIXIAX I. — This prince was the nephew of
Justin, and was by him taken as his partner in
the empire in 527 ; the same year Justin died,
in the seventy-seventh year of his age, and ninth
of his reign. Justinian, being now sole master
of the empire, bent his whole force against the
Persians. The latter proved successful in the
first engagement; but were soon after utterly
defeated by Belisarius on the frontiers of Persia,
and by Dorotheus in Armenia. The war continued
with various success during the first five years of
Justinian's reisrn- In the sixth a peace was con-
cluded, stipulating, 1. That the emperor should
pay the king of Persia 1000 IDS. weight of gold.
2. That both princes should restore the places
they had taken during the wars. 3. That the
commander of the Roman forces should no
longer reside at Daras, on the Persian frontiers,
but at Constantma in Mesopotamia. 4. That
the Iberians, who had sided with the emperor,
should be at liberty to return to their own coun-
try or stay at Constantinople. This peace, con-
cluded in 532, was styled eternal ; but proved
of very short duration.
About this time happened at Constantinople
one of the greatest civic tumults recorded in his-
tory. It began among the different factions in
the circus, but ended in an open rebellion. The
K.
15
people, highly dissatisfied with the conduct of
John the praefectus pratorii, and of Trebonianus
then questor, forced Hypatius, nephew to the
emperor Anastasius, to accept the empire, and
proclaimed him with great solemnity. As these
two ministers were greatly abhorred on account
of their avarice, Justinian immediately discharged
them, hoping thus to appease the tumult ; but
this was so far from answering the purpose that
the people only grew more outrageous ; and,
most of the senators joining them, the emperor
was so much alarmed that he had thoughts of
abandoning the city. But the empress Theodora
persuaded him rather to part with his life than
his empire, and he resolved to defend himself to
the utmost. In the mean time the rebels, having
attempted in vain to force the gates of the pa-
lace, carried Hypatius in triumph to the circus,
where, while he was beholding the sports from
the imperial throne, amidst the shouts and accla-
mations of the people, Belisarius, who had been
recalled from Persia, entered the city with a con-
siderable body of troops. Being BOW apprised
of the usurpation of Hypatius, he marched strait
to the circus ; fell sword in hand upon the dis-
armed multitude ; and, with the assistance of a
band of Heruli, headed by Mundus, governor of
Illyricum, cut about 30,000 of them in pieces
Hypatius the usurper, and Pompeius, another
nephew of Anastasius, were taken prisoners, and
carried to the emperor, by whose orders they
were both beheaded, and their bodies cast into
the sea. Their estates were confiscated 'with
those of such senators as had joined with them ;
but the emperor caused great part of their lands
and effects to be afterwards restored, together
with their honors and dignities, to their children.
Justinian, having now no other enemy to contend
with, turned his arms against the Vandals in
Africa, and the Goths in Italy ; both which pro-
vinces he recovered out of the hands of the bar-
barians. But before Belisarius had time to re-
establish fully the Roman power in Italy, he was
recalled to carry on the war agahist Cosrhoes
king of Persia, who, regardless of the late treaty,
entered the Roman dominions at the head of a
powerful army. The same year a new peace
was concluded upon the following conditions : —
1. That the Romans should, within two months,
pay to the Persian king 5000 Ibs. weight of gold,
and an annual pension of 500 Ibs. 2. That the
latter should relinquish all claim to the fortress
of Daras, and maintain a body of troops to
guard the Caspian gates, and prevent the barba-
rians from breaking into the empire. 3. That
upon payment of that sum Cosrhoes should im-
mediately withdraw his troops from the Roman
dominions. The treaty being signed, and the
stipulated sum paid, Cosrhoes began to march
back again ; but by the way plundered several
cities. Justinian hereupon resolved to renew the
war with vigor; but had scarcely for that pur-
pose despatched Belisarius into the east before
he was obliged to recal him, in order to oppose
the Goths, who had gained great advantages in
Italy. The Persian war was carried on with in-
different success till A. D. 558, when a peace
wa> concluded, upon the emperor again paying
an immense sum to the e?:o!r.y. The same year
It)
ROME.
the Huns, passing the Danube in the depth of
u inter, marched in two bodies for Constantinople;
and, laying waste the countries through which
they passed, came, without opposition, within
150 furlongs of the city. But Belisarius, march-
ing out against them with a handful of men, put
them to flight ; the emperor, however, agreed to
pay them an annual tribute, upon their promising
to defend the empire against all other barbarians.
This was the last exploit performed by Belisarius,
who, on his return to Constantinople, was dis-
graced, stripped of his employments, and con-
fined to his house, on pretence of a conspiracy.
See BELISARIUS. In 565 a real conspiracy was
formed against Justinian, which he happily es-
caped, and the conspirators were executed ; but
the emperor did not long survive, being carried
off by a natural death in 556, in the thirty-ninth
year of his reign.
JUSTINIAN'S SUCCESSORS, TO THE FIRST TURK-
ISH INVASION. — During the reign of Justinian the
majesty of the Roman empire seemed to revive.
He recovered the provinces of Italy and Africa
out of the hands of -the barbarians, by whom they
had been held for a number of years ; but after
his death they were soon lost, and the empire
tended fast to dissolution. In 569 Italy was
conquered by the Lombards, who held it for the
space of 200 years. Some amends, however,
were made for this loss by the acquisition of Per-
sian Armenia, the inhabitants of which being
persecuted on account of the Christian religion,
which they professed, revolted to the Romans.
This produced a war between the two nations,
who continued to weaken each other, till at las'.
the Persian monarchy was overthrown, and that
of the Romans greatly reduced by the Saracens.
These new enemies attacked the Romans in 632,
and pursued their conquests with incredible
rapidity. Within four years they reduced Egypt,
Syria, and Palestine. In 648 they became mas-
ters of Mesopotamia, Phoenicia, Africa, Cyprus,
Aradus, and Rhodes ; and having defeated the
Roman fleet, commanded by the emperor Con-
stans II. in person, they concluded a peace on
condition of keeping the vast extent of territory
they had seized, and paying for 1000 nummi
a-year. An expedition against the Lombards
was about this time undertaken, but with very
little success, a body of 20,000 Romans being
almost entirely cut off by one of the Lombard
generals. In 671 the Saracens ravaged several
provinces, made a descent in Sicily, took and
plundered the city of Syracuse, and overran the
whole island, destroying every thing with fire
and sword. In like manner they laid waste Ci-
licia; and, having passed the winter at Smyrna,
entered Thrace in the winter of 672, and laid
siege to Constantinople itself. Here, however,
they were repulsed with great loss : but next
spring they renewed their attempt, in which they
met with the same bad success : many of their
ships being burnt by the sea fire, as it was called,
because it burnt underwater ; and in their return
home their fleet was wrecked off the Scyllsean
promontory. At last a peace was concluded for
thirty years, on condition that the Saracens
should retain all the provinces they had seized ;
and that they should pay to the emperor and his
successors 3000 pounds weight of gold, fifty
slaves, and as many choice horses. This peace
was scarcely concluded when the empire was in-
vaded by the Bulgarians ; who, breaking into
Thrace, defeated the Roman army, and ravaged
the country far and wide. Constantine IV., in
678, agreed to pay them an annual pension,
rather than continue a doubtful war ; and allowed
them to settle in Lower Mcesia, from them called
Bulgaria.
In 687 they were attacked by Justinian II.,
who entered their country without provocation ;
but they, falling suddenly upon him, drove him
out, and obliged him to restore the towns ami
captives he had taken. In 697 Justinian was
deposed; and in his exile fled to Trebelis, king
of the Bulgarians, by whose aid he was restored
to his throne ; but, soon forgetting this favor, he
invaded the country of the Bulgarians, with a
design to wrest from them those provinces which
he had yielded to them. In this expedition he
was attended by no better success than his in-
gratitude deserved, his army being defeated, and
himself obliged to make his escape in a vessel
to Constantinople. The Bulgarians, continuing
their inroads and ravages at different times, ge-
nerally defeated the Romans who ventured to
oppose them, till A. D. 800, the seventh of the
reign of Nicephorus I., when they surprised the
city of Sardica, and put the whole garrison, con-
sisting of 6000 men, to the sword. The empe-
ror marched against them with a considerable
army ; but the enemy retired at his approach ;
and he, instead of pursuing them, returned to
Constantinople. Two years after he entered Bul-
garia at the head of a powerful army, destroying
every thing with fire and sword. The king ofl'eivd
to conclude a peace with him upon honorable
terms ; but Nicephorus, rejecting his proposals,
continued to waste the country, destroying the
cities, and putting all the inhabitants, without
distinction of sex or age, to the sword. The kiny;
was so much affected with these cruelties, that.
he sent a second embassy to Nicephorus, offering
to conclude a peace with him upon any terms.
But, Nicephorus dismissing the ambassadors with
scorn, the Bulgarian monarch attacked the Roman
camp, forced it, and cut off almost the whole
army, with the emperor himself, and a great
number of patricians. His successor, Michael I.,
likewise engaged in a war with the Bulgarians ;
but, being utterly defeated, resigned the empire.
After this the Bulgarians continued to be very
formidable enemies till the year 979, when they
were vigorously attacked by Basilius II. The
Bulgarians were now governed by a kir.g named
Samuel ; who having ravaged the Roman terri-
tories, 'Basilius sent against him Nicephorus
Uranus at the head of a powerful army. Uranus,
leaving his baggage at Larissa, reached by long
marches the Sperchius, and encamped with his
whole army over against the enemy, who lay on
the opposite bank. As the river was greatly
swelled, with the heavy rains that had lately
fallen, Samuel, not imagining the Romans would
attempt to pass it, suffered his troops to roam in
large parties about the country. But Uranus,
having at length found out a place where tho
river was fordable, passed it in the night, fell
R O M E.
17
•upoi. the Bulgarians, who lay for the most part
asleep : cutting great numbers in pieces, and
making himself master of their camp. Samuel
and his son were dangerously wounded ; and
would have been taken, had they not concealed
themselves among the dead. The next night
they stole away to the mountains of ./Etolia,
The following year the emperor entered Bulgaria
at the head of a numerous and well disciplined
army ; defeated Samuel in a pitched battle, and
took several strong cities. The emperor himself,
however, at last, narrowly escaped being cut ofi
in a narrow pass. From this danger he was
relieved by the arrival of Nicephorus Xiphias,
governor of Philippopolis, with a body of troops .
who, falling upon the enemy's rear, put them tc
flight. Basilius pursued them close ; and, having
taken an incredible number of captives, caused
their eyes to be pulled out, leaving to every hun-
dred a guide with one eye, that he might conduc.
them to Samuel. This shocking spectacle sc
affected the king that he fell into a deep swoon,
and died two days after. The emperor, pursuing
his conquests, in the space of two years made
himself master of most of the enemy's strong
holds. He defeated also the successor of Samue.
in several engagements ; and, having at last killed
him in battle, the Bulgarians submitted without
reserve. The vast treasures of these princes
were by Basilius distributed among his soldiers.
Soon after the royal family surrendered them-
selves to the emperor, by whom they were re-
ceived with the utmost respect. Ibatzes, how-
t- ver, a person nearly allied to the family, who had
<i languished himself in an eminent manner during
the whole course of the war, refused to submit.
At last Eustathius Daphnomelus, whom Basilius
hud lately appointed governor of Achridus, the
chief city of Bulgaria, undertook to secure him.
^ ithout communicating his design to any, he
repaired, with two persons in whom he could
confide, to the mountain on which Ibatzes had
fortified himself. He hoped to pass undis-
covered among the many strangers who flocked
thither to celebrate the approaching feast of the
Virgin, for whom Ibatzes had a great veneration.
In this he found himself mistaken ; for he was
known by the guards, and carried before the prince.
To him he pretended to have something of import-
ance to communicate ; but, as soon as Ibatzes had
retired with him into a remote place, Daphnomelus
threw himself suddenly upon him, and with the
assistance of the two men whom he had brought
with him, put out his eyes ; and got safe to an
abandoned castle on the top of the hill. Here
they were immediately surrounded by the troops
of Ibatzes ; hut Daphnomelns exhorting them
now to submit to the emperor, by whom he as-
sured them they would be well received, they
congratulated Daphnomelus on his success, and
suffered him to conduct the unhappy Ibatzes a
prisoner to Basilius. The emperor was no less
surprised than pleased at the success of this bold
attempt; and rewarded Daphnomelus with the
government of Dyrrhachium, and all the rich
moveables of his prisoner. After this, having
accomplished the entire reduction of Bulgaria,
he returned to Constantinople with an incredible
number of captives. All this time the Saracens
VOL. XIX.
had at intervals invaded the Roman dominions,
and even attempted to make themselves master*
of the capital. Their internal divisions., how-
ever, rendered them now much less formidable
enemies than they had formerly been ; so that
some provinces were recovered for a time out of
their hands. In 1040 the empire was first in-
vaded by the Turks ; an enemy w ho, though not
very powerful at that time, by degrees gathered
strength sufficient to overthrow both the Roman
and Saracen empires. See TURKEY. Cutln-
Mo<es, nephew to Tangrolipix, the Turkish sul-
tan, having been refused a passage throu<ni
Media, in his retreat from Arabia, by Stephen
the Roman governor, forced his passag'e and de-
feated the Roman army with so much ease that
he told his uncle the province might be easily
conquered. Tangrolipix accordingly sent Asan,
another nephew, with an army of 20,000 men to
reduce Media. The young prince entered that
country, and committed every where dreadful
ravages ; but, being drawn into an ambush by
the Roman generals, he was cut off with his
whole army. Tangrolipix, not discouraged, sent
a new army into Media of nearly 100,000 men
who, after having ravaged the country without
opposition, laid siege to Artza, a place of great
trade. Not being able to reduce it by any other
means they set it on fire ; and 150,000 of the
inhabitants perished either by the flames or the
sword. After this Abraham Halim, half brother
to Tangrolipix, hearing that the Romans, rein-
forced with a body of troops under Liparites
governor of Iberia, had taken the field, marched
against them, and the two armies engaged with
incredible fury. The victory continued Ion.:
doubtful ; but at length inclined to the Romans,
who nevertheless did not think proper to pursue
the fugitives, as their general Liparites was taken
prisoner. The emperor despatched ambassadors
with rich presents, and a large sum of money to
redeem him, and at the same time to conclude
an alliance with Tangrolipix. The presents the
sultan received ; but immediately returned them
together with . the money to Liparites, whom he
set at liberty without ransom. Not long aftei
Tangrolipix sent an ambassador to Constan-
tinople : who having exhorted the emperor to
submit to his master, and acknowledge himself
his tributary, was ignominiously driven out o'
the city. Tangrolipix, highly affronted at this
entered Iberia, while the emperor Constantim
Monomachus was engaged in a war with the
Patzinacae, a Scythian nation. Having ravaged
that country, he returned to Media, and laid
siege for forty days to Mantzichierta, a place de-
fended by a numerous garrison. The next
spring Tangrolipix returned, and ravaged Iberia
with the utmost cruelty, sparing neither sex nor
age. But, on the approach of the Roman army,
he retired to Tauris, leaving 30,000 men on the
frontiers of the empire. Till the time of this
emperor the provinces bordering on the countries
of the barbarians had maintained, at their own
charge, forces to defend them : and were on that
account exempted from paying tribute ; but, as
Monomachus exacted from them the same sums
that were paid by others, they were no longer in
a condition to defend themselves.
C
R O M E.
From COXSTANTINE Drt-AS TO THE CAPTURE
<jt CONSTANTINOPLE BY THE LATINS. In 1067
died the emperor Constantine Ducas, having left
the empire to his three sons, Michael, Androni-
cus, and Constantine ; but, as they were all very
young, he appointed the empress Eudocia regent,
after having required of her an oath never to
marry. He likewise obliged the senators solemnly
to swear that they would acknowledge none for
their sovereign but his three sons. No sooner,
however, was he dead than the Turks, hearing
that the empire was governed by a woman, broke
into Mesopotamia, Cilicia, and Cappadocia.
The empress was no way in a condition to oppose
them, the greater part of the army having been
disbanded in her husband's life-time : and a dis-
contented party existed at home, who observed
that the state of affairs required a man of courage
and address at the helm, instead of a weak wo-
man. Eudocia therefore determined to marry
some person of merit, capable of defeating her
enemies : and when one Romanus Diogenes, a
man of illustrious birth and beautiful person,
was brought forth to receive sentence of death,
she only gently upbraided him with his ambition
and set him at liberty. Soon after she appointed
him commander-in-chief of her forces. In this
station he acquitted himself so well that the
empress resolved to marry him if she could
recover the writing in which her oath was
contained out of the hands of the patriarch.
In order to this she applied to a favorite
eunuch ; who told the patriarch that the empress
was so taken with his nephew Bardas, that she
was determined to marry and raise him to the
empire, provided the patriarch absolved her from
her oath, and convinced the senate of the law-
fulness of her marriage. The patriarch, dazzled
with the prospect of his nephew's promotion,
readily undertook to perform both. He first ob-
tained the consent of the senate, by representing
to them the dangerous state of the empire, and
exclaiming against the rash oath which the jea-
lousy of the late emperor had extorted from the
empress. He then publicly discharged her from
it, and restored the writing to her, exhorting her
to marry some deserving object, who, being en-
trusted with an absolute authority, might be ca-
pable of defending the empire. Thus discharged
from her oath, the empress, a few days after,
married Romanus Diogenes. Being a man of
great activity and military talent, he took the
command of the army, and passed over into
Asia, recruiting and inuring his forces on his
march to military discipline. On his arrival,
being informed that the Turks had surprised and
plundered Neocaesarea, and were retiring with
their booty, he hastened after, and came up \\ith
them on the third day, when he cut off great
numbers of them, and easily recovered the booty.
After this he pursued his inarch to Aleppo,
which he retook, together with Ilierapolis, where
he built a strong castle. In his return, he was
met by a numerous body of Turks, who at-
tempted to cut off his retreat ; and he pretended
to decline an engagement through fear ; but at-
tacked them afterwards \\itli such vigor that In-
put them to flight at the first onset. After this
several towns submitted to him ; but, ih«- K
l>ein_r spent, he returned to Constantinople. The
following year lie passed over into Asia in the
spring; and, being informed that the Turks had
sacked Iconium, marched at once against them ;
when they retired in great haste. The Arrrenians,
however, encouraged by the approach of the em-
peror's army, fell upon them in the plains of
Tarsus, put them to night, and stripped them
both of their baggage and booty. The spring
following the emperor once more entered Asia
at the head of a considerable army. When the
two armies drew near each other, Axan, the
Turkish sultan, son of the famous Tangrolipix
sent proposals to Romanus for a peace. These
were imprudently rejected, and a desperate en-
gagement ensued ; when, in spite of the utmost
efforts of the emperor, his army was routed, and
he himself wounded and taken prisoner. When
this news was brought to Axan, he could scarcely
believe it ; but, being convinced by the appear-
ance of the royal captive in his presence, he
tenderly embraced -and consoled him. ' You
shall have no occasion,' said he, ' to complain
of your captivity : I will not use you as my
prisoner, but as an emperor.' The Turk wa«. a<
good as his word. He lodged Romanus in a
royal pavilion ; assigned him attendants, with
an equipage suitable to his quality; and dis-
charged such prisoners as he desired. After he
had for some days entertained his captive with
extraordinary magnificence, a perpetual peace
was concluded, and the emperor dismissed wit'i
the greatest marks of honor. He then set out
with the Turkish ambassador for Constantinople,
where the peace was to bev ratified ; but by the
way he was informed that Eudocia had been
driven from the throne by John the brother ot
Constantine Ducas, and Psellus a leading man
in the senate, who had confined her to a moins-
tery, and proclaimed Michael Ducas, his eldest
son, emperor. On this intelligence Romanus re-
tired to a strong castle near Theodosiopolis,
where he hoped soon to be joined by his friends
and adherents. But John, who had taken upon
him to act as guardian to the young prince, sent
Andronicus with a considerable army against
him ; on which he was obliged to fly to Adana,
in Cilicia, where he was closely besieged, and at
last compelled to surrender. Andronicus carried
his prisoner into Phrygia, where he fell danger-
ously ill, being, as was suspected, secretly
poisoned. Here, at any rate, John ordered his
eyes to be put out ; which was done with such
cruelty that he died soon after, in 1071, having
reigned three years and eight months.
Axan was no sooner informed of the tragical
end of his friend and ally than he resolved to
irnade the empire; and that not only with a di-
si_n to plunder as formerly, but to conquer, and
keep what he conquered. The emperor de-
spatched against him Isaac Comnenus, with a
considerable army ; but he was defeated and
taken prisoner by Axan. Another army \\a<
sent off under John Ducas, the emperor's uncle,
who gained some advantages; but one I i>flius
revolted with the troops under his command,
• d himself to be proclaimed emperor, and
reduced several cities in Phrygia and Cappa-
dotia. Against him John marched with all his
R O M E.
19
forces, suffering the Turks m the mean time to
pursue their conquests ; but, coming to an en-
gagement with the rebels, his army was entirely
defeated, and himself taken prisoner. Notwith-
standing this victory, Urselius was so much
alarmed at the progress of the Turks that he
not only released his prisoner, but joined with
him against the common enemy, by whom they
were both defeated and taken prisoners. Axan,
however, was now prevented from pursuing his
conquests by Cutlu-Moses, nephew to the late
Tangrolipix. He had revolted against his uncle ;
but, being defeated by him in a pitched battle,
had taken refuge in Arabia, whence he returned
at the head of a considerable army to dispute the
sovereignty. But, while the two armies were
preparing to engage, the khalif of Babylon in-
terposed his authority, and, by his mediation, an
agreement was concluded that Axan should en-
joy undisturbed the monarchy lately left him by
his father, and that Cutlu-Moses should possess
such provinces of the Roman empire as he or
his sons should conquer. Both the Turkish
princes thus turned their forces against the em-
pire; and, before 1077, made themselves masters
of Media, Lycaonia, Cappadocia, and Bithynia,
fixing their capital at Nice. During all this time
the emperors of Constantinople, as well as their
subjects, seemed to be in a manner infatuated.
They took no notice of the great progress of
these barbarians : the generals were ambitious
only of seizing the tottering empire ; and, after
it was obtained, spent their time in oppressing
their subjects, rather than in attempting to re-
pulse the enemy. At last Alexius Comnenus,
having wrested the empire from Nicephorus Bo-
toniates, in 1080, began to prepare for opposing
so formidable an enemy with vigor ; so that
Solyman, the Turkish sultan, son and successor
to Cutlu-Moses, despatched ambassadors with
proposals of peace. These were at first re-
jected ; but Alexius was at last glad to ac-
cept them, on hearing that Robert Guischard,
duke of Puglia and Calabria, was making great
preparations against him in the west. To this ex-
pedition Robert was incited by Michael Ducas.
That prince had been deposed by Nicephorus
Botoniates, and towards the end of the usurper's
reigu fled into the West, where he was received
by Robert, who sailed with all his forces from
Bruudusium ; and, landing at Buthrotum in
Epirus, made himself master of that place, while
his son Bohemond with part of the army reduced
Aulon, a celebrated city of Albania. Thence
they advanced to Dyrrhachium, which they in-
vested both by sea and land ; but met with a
most vigorous opposition from GeorgePalseologus,
whom the emperor had entrusted with the de-
fence of it. In spite of the utmost efforts of the
enemy, this commander held out till the arrival
of the Venetian fleet, by whom Robert's navy
commanded by Bohemond was totally defeated,
the admiral himself having narrowly escaped.
After this victory the Venetians landed ; and,
being joined by Palaologus's men, fell upon
Robert's troops with such fury that they destroyed
their works, burnt their engines, and forced them
back to their camp. As the Venetians were now
masters at sea, the besieged were supplied with
plenty of provisions, while a famine began to
rage in the camp of the enemy : a calamity soon
followed by a plague, which in three months is
said to have destroyed 10,000 men. Robert,
however, did not abandon the siege, l.ut pushed
it with such vigor that the courage of the besieged
began to fail ; and Palseologus sent repeated
messages to the emperor, stating that he should
be obliged to surrender. Ou this Alexius marched
in person to the relief of the city, but was de-
feated with great loss by Robert. The emperor
himself with great difficulty made his escape,
leaving the enemy master of his camp. Soon
after this defeat the city surrendered ; and
Alexius, being destitute of resources, seized on the
wealth of the churches and monasteries, which
gave much offence to the clergy, and had nearly
occasioned great disturbances in Constantinople.
At the same time, entering into an alliance with
Henry emperor of Germany, he persuaded him
to invade the dominions of Robert in Italy. At
first Henry met with great success ; but was soon
overcome and driven out by Robert. Bohemond,
in the mean time, reduced several places in Illy-
ricura ; and, having defeated Alexius in two
pitched battles, entered Thessaly, and set down
before Larissa, till the emperor came to its re-
lief. Soon after his arrival he drew a strong
party of Bohemond's men into an ambuscade,
and cut them almost all off. However, in a
battle which was fought a few days after, Bohe-
mond had the advantage ; but his troops muti-
nying he was obliged to return to Italy. Alexius
in his absence recovered several cities ; and ap-
plied once more to the Venetians. By them he
was assisted with a powerful fleet, which defeat-
ed that of Robert in two engagements ; but being
soon after surprised they were defeated with the
'oss of almost all their navy. Robert is said to
have used his victoiy with great barbarity. The
Venetians now equipped a second fleet; and,
joining that of the emperor, fell unexpectedly
upon Robert's navy in Buthrotum, sunk most of
his ships, and took a great number of prisoners.
Robert, while making preparations to revenge
this defeat, was prevented by death ; and his son
Roger did not think proper to pursue so expen-
sive a war.
This conflict was scarcely ended when the
Scythians, passing the Danube, laid waste great
part of Thrace, committing every where the
greatest barbarities. Against them the emperor
despatched an army under the command of Pacu-
rianus and Branas. The latter engaged the enemy
contrary to the opinion of his colleague; and his
rashness caused the loss of the greater part of the
army, who were cut off by the Scythians, toge-
ther with two generals. On this Talicius, an
officer who had signalised himseif on many occa-
sions, was appointed to the command. He fell
upon the enemy as they lay securely near Philip-
popolis, cut off great numbers of them, and
obliged the rest to retire in confusion. Next
spring, however, they returned in such numbers
that the emperor resolved to march against them
in person. Accordingly he set out for Adrianople,
and thence to Lardea. Here, contrary to the ad-
vice of his best officers, he ventured a battle ; in
which he was totally defeated with the loss of vast
C2
20
R O M E.
numbers of men, he himself escaping with diffi-
culty. The next year he was attended with no
Wtter success, his army being entirely defeated
with the loss of his camp and baggage. But in
1084 he retrieved his credit ; and gave the Scy-
thians such an overthrow that very few escaped.
Notwithstanding they again invaded the empire
in 1093. To this they were encouraged by an
impostor called Leo, who pretended to be the
eldest son of Ilomanus Diogenes. The young
prince had been slain in a battle with the Turks ;
but the Scythians only wanted a pretence to renew
the war. By a stratagem, however, Leo was
murdered ; and the Scythians, being afterwards
overthrown in two great battles, were obliged to
submit on the emperor's own terms. From 1083
the war had been carried on with the Turks with
various success ; but now an association was
formed in the west against these infidels. This
was occasioned by the superstition of the Chris-
tians, who now meditated a crusade for the re-
covery of the Holy Land. Had the western
princes been assisted by the emperor of the east
in this undertaking, the Turks had undoubtedly,
been unable to resist them ; but the Latins were
looked upon by them as no less enemies than the
Turks ; and indeed whatever places they took
from the infidels they never thought of restoring
to the emperors of Constantinople, but erected
a number of small independent principalities ;
which neither having sufficient strength to de-
fend themselves, nor being properly supported
by one another, soon became a prey to the
Turks. In 1203 happened a dreadful fire at
Constantinople, Occasioned by some Latin sol-
diers having plundered a mosque which the
Turks had been suffered to build. For this rea-
son they were attacked by the infidels ; who
being much superior to them in number, the
Latins were obliged to set fire to some houses
to make their escape. The rlame, spreading in
an instant from street to street, reduced great
part of the city to ashes. The emperor Isaac
Angelus, who had been restored to his throne by
the Latins, died soon after their departure from
Constantinople, leaving his son Alexius sole
master of the empire. The young prince, to dis-
charge the large sums he had promised to the
French and Venetians for their assistance, was
obliged to lay heavy taxes on his subjects ; and
this, with the great esteem and friendship he
showed to his deliverers, raised a general dis-
content among the inhabitants of Constantinople,
who were sworn enemies to the Latins. This
encouraged John Ducas (surnamed Murtzuphlus
from his joined and thick eyebrows) to attempt
the sovereignty. Unhappily he found means to
put his treacherous designs in execution, and
strangled the young prince with his own hands.
After this he presented himself to the people;
told them what he had done, which he pretended
was to secure their liberties ; and earnestly en-
treated them to choose an emperor who had
courage to defend them against the Latins. On
this he was instantly saluted emperor, but his
usurpation proved the ruin of the city. The
Latins resolved immediately to revenge the death
of the young prince; and, as they had been so
often betrayed and retarded in tin ir exp-diiions
to the Holy Land by the emperors of Constanti-
nople, to make themselves masters of that city,
and seize the empire. Accordingly they mus-
tered all their forces in Asia, and, having crossed
the straits, laid siege to Constantinople by sea
and land. The tyrant, who was a man of great
courage and experience, made a vigorous defence.
The Latins, however, after having battered the
walls for several days together with an incfedible
number of engines, made a general assault on
the 8th of April 1204. The attack lasted from
break of day till 3 P.M., when they were forced
to retire, after having lost some of their en-
gines, and a great number of men. The assault
was nevertheless renewed four days after ; when,
after a warm dispute, the French planted their
standard on one of the towers ; which the Vene-
tians observing, they quickly made themselves
masters of four other towers, where they likewise
displayed their ensigns. In the mean time three
of the gates being broke down by the battering
rams, and those who had scaled the walls having
killed the guards and opened the gates, the
whole army entered. The Greeks fled in the
greatest confusion; and several parties of the
Latins scouring the streets put all they met to
the sword. Night put a stop to the dreadful
slaughter, and next morning the Greeks entirely
submitted ; at the same time they were ordered
to retire to their houses, the city being given up
to be plundered by the soldiers. The Latins
strictly enjoined their men to abstain from
slaughter, to preserve the honor of the women,
and to bring the whole booty into one place, that
a just distribution might be made : but the
Greeks had concealed their most valuable effects
during the night ; and many persons of the first
rank had escaped, and carried along with them
immense treasures. Yet the booty, without the
statues, pictures, and jewels, amounted to a sum
almost incredible. As for Murtzuphlus he made
his escape in the night ; embarking in a small
vessel with Euphrosyne, the wife of Alexius An-
gelus a late usurper, and her daughter Eudoxia,
for whose sake he had abandoned his wife.
FINAL DOWNFALL OF THE EASTERN EMPIRE.
— Constantinople continued subject to the Latins
for fifty-six years, from A. D. 1205 till 1261 :
during which period Baldwin, earl of Flanders,
Henry his brother, Peter de Courlenay, Robert,
and Baldwin II. reigned successively as empe-
rors. This last had reigned thirty-two years,
when the Latins were expelled by Alexius Stra-
tegopulus, a person of illustrious family, and for
his eminent services distinguished with the title
of Caesar. He had been sent against Alexius
Angelus despot of Epiius, who now attempted
to recover some places in Thessaly and Greece,
from Michael Palceologus, one of the Greek em-
perors, who, since the capture of Constantinople,
had kept their court at Nice : and to try whether
he could on his march surprise the imperial city.
Alexius, having passed the straits, encamped at
a place called Rhegium, where he was informed
by the natives that a strong body of the Latins
had been sent to the siege of Daphuksa, that the
garrison was in great want of provisions, and
that it would be easy to surprise Constantinople.
Hereupon the Greek general resolved at all
K O M E.
21
events to attempt it ; in which he was encouraged
by some of the inhabitants, who, coming privately
to his camp, ottered to be his guides. He ap-
proached in the ni^ht, and some of his men
scaled the walls without being observed ; when,
killing the sentries, they opened the gates to the
rest of the army. The Greeks, rushing in, put
all they met to the sword ; and, to create more
terror, set fire to the city in four different places.
The Latins, concluding from this that the enemy's
forces were far more numerous than they really
were, did not so much as attempt either to drive
them out, or to extinguish the flames. In this ge-
neral confusion Baldwin, quinine the ensigns of
majesty, fled with Justinian the Latin patriarch,
and some of his friends, to the sea-side; where,
embarking in a small vessel, he sailed to Eubcea,
and afterwards to Veni<?e, leaving the Greeks in
full possession of Constantinople. When the
news of this surprising and unexpected success
was first brought to Michael he could scarcely
credit it ; but, receiving letters from Alexius
himself with a particular account of the event,
he ordered thanks to be returned in all the
churches, and couriers to be despatched with the
agreeable news to all parts of the empire. Soon
after he set out for Constantinople with the em-
press, his family, the senate, and nobility, to
take possession of the imperial city. Having
passed the straits he advanced to the golden gate,
and continued some days without the walls,
while the citizens were making the necessary
preparations to receive him with suitable magni-
ficence. On the day appointed the golden gate,
which had been long shut, was opened, and the
emperor entered amidst the acclamations of the
multitude to the great palace. He was preceded
by the bishop of Cyzicus, who carried an image
of the Virgin, and followed by all the great offi-
cers, nobility, and chief citizens, pompously
dressed. Public thanks were again returned
in the church of St. Sophia, at which the empe-
ror assisted in person. After this the emperor
carefully surveyed the city, a duty which greatly
allayed his joy. He saw the stately palaces and
other magnificent buildings of the emperors lying
in ruins ; many capacious buildings that had
been erected by his predecessors, at an immense
charge, destroyed by fire, and other accidents of
war ; several streets abandoned by the inhabit-
ants, and choked up with rubbish, &c. These
objects only, however, excited in him a desire
of restoring the city. In the mean time, looking
upon Alexius as the restorer of his country, he
caused him to be clad in magnificent robes ;
placed with his own hand a crown on his head ;
ordered him to be conducted through the city
in triumph ; decreed that, for a whole year, his
name should be joined in the public prayers
with his own ; and commanded his statue to be
erected on a stately pillar of marble. His next
care was to repeople the city, many Greek fami-
lies having withdrawn while it was held by the
Latins. The former were recalled, and the latter
were allowed many privileges to induce them
not to remove. Great privileges were likewise
granted to the natives of Venice and Pisa, which
encouraged them to lay aside all thoughts of
removing. Michael, however, being soon after
informed that the ci-devant emperor Baldwin II.
had married his daughter to Charles king of
Sicily, and given him Constantinople by way of
dowry, he ordered the Genoese, who were be-
come very numerous, to remove first to llera-
clea, and afterwards to Galata. The P. sans and
Venetians, who were not so numerous and
wealthy, were allowed to continue in the city.
.Michael, though he had caused himself to be
proclaimed emperor, and was possessed of ab-
solute sovereignty, was as yet only guardian to
the young emperor John Lascaris, then about
twelve years of age. But having now settled
the state, and gained the affections both of na-
tives and foreigners, he began to think of secur-
ing himself and his posterity in the empire ; and
cruelly ordered the eyes of the young prince to
be put out. This piece of barbarity involved
him in great troubles. The patriarch imme-
diately excommunicated him ; and he would
probably have been driven from the throne, had
he not engaged pope Urban IV. to espouse his
cause, by promising to submit himself and his
dominions to the Latin church. Thus, indeed,
he diverted the foreign storm ; but caused fresh
domestic disturbances, not only in Constanti-
nople, but throughout the empire. In 1283
Michael VII. died, and was succeeded by his
son Andronicus II. His first step was to re-
store the ancient Greek ceremonies. But he
thus involved himself in greater difficulties :
though Michael had not been able fully to re-
concile his Greek subjects to the Latin ceremo-
nies, yet he had in some degree accomplished his
purpose. The Latins had obtained a considera-
ble footing in the city, and defended their cere-
monies with great obstinacy; so that the empire
was again thrown into a ferment. All this time
the Turks had been continuing their encroach-
ments on the empire. They were now, hew-
ever, very successfully opposed by Constantine
the emperor's brother : but his valor rendered
him suspected, in consequence of which hewa;
thrown into prison, along with several persons of
distinction. On the removal of this great com-
mander, the Turks, under the famous Othomaiv
made themselves masters of several places in
Phrygia, Caria, and Bithynia; and among the
rest of the city of Nice. To put a stop to their
conquests, the emperor despatched against them
Philanthropenus and Libadarius, officers of great
experience. The former gained some advantages
over the enemy ; but, being elated with his suc-
cess, caused himself to be proclaimed emperor.
This rebellion, however, was soon suppressed,
Philanthropenus being betrayed by his own men :
but the Turks, taking advantage of the subsequent
commotions, not only extended their dominions
in Asia, hut conquered most of the islands in
the Mediterranean ; and infested the coasts of
the empire, to the utter ruin of commerce.
From this time the eastern empire tended fast to
dissolution. After the revolt of Philanthropenus,
the emperor could no longer trust his subjects,
and therefore hired the Massagetes: but they
were first defeated by his enemies, and after-
wards turned their arms against him. He next
applied to the Catalans, who behaved in the same
manner; and, having ravaged the few places he
R O M E.
had left hi Asia, returned into Europe, and called
the Turks to their assistance. This happened in
1292, and was the first appearance of the Turks
in Europe.
This enterprise, however, was unsuccessful.
Having loaded themselves with booty, they
offered to depart quietly if they were allowed a
safe passage, and ships to transport them to Asia.
To this the emperor readily consented, and or-
dered the vessels to be got ready with all possi-
ble expedition. But the Greek officers, observing
the immense booty with which they were loaded,
resolved to fall upon them in the ni^ht, and cut
them all off. Of this wretched scheme, however,
the Turks got notice, and prepared for their de-
fence. They first surprised a strong castle in the
neighbourhood, and then found means to ac-
quaint their countrymen in Asia with their dan-
gerous situation. Their brethren, having crossed
the Hellespont in great numbers, ravaged the
adjacent country, making excursions to the very
gates of Constantinople : at last the emperor de-
termined to march against them with all his
forces, the people docking to him from all quar-
ters. The Turks at first gave themselves over
for lost; but finding the Greeks negligent of dis-
cipline, they attacked their army unexpectedly,
utterly defeated it, and made themselves masters
of the camp. After this they continued for two
years to ravage Thrace terribly ; but at last were
defeated, and being afterwards shut up in the
Chersonesus, were all cut in pieces or taken.
Soon after new commotions took place in this
unhappy empire, of which the Turks did not fail
to take the advantage. 1327 they made them-
selves masters of most of the cities on the
Maeander ; and among the rest of Prusa in Bi-
thynia. The next year, however, Ottoman the
founder of the Turkish monarchy being dead,
the emperor recovered Nice, and some other im-
portant places. But these, with Abydus and Ni-
comedia, were lost in 1328 ; and in 1330 a peace
was concluded upon condition that they should
keep all their conquests. This peace they ob-
served no longer than served their own pur-
poses ; for new commotions breaking out in the
empire, they pursued their conquests, and in
1357 had reduced all Asia. They next passed
the Hellespont under Solyman the son of ()r-
chan, the successor of Olhoman, and seized a
strong castle on the European side. Soon after
Orchan died, and was succeeded by Amurath I.
He extended the conquests of his predecessors,
and in a short time reduced all Thrace, making
Adrianople the seat of his empire. Amurath was
murdered soon after, and was succeeded by his
son Bajazet I., who greatly enlarged his domi-
nions by new conquests. In a short time he re-
duced Thessaly, Macedon, Phocis, Peloponnesus,
M\»ia, and Bulgaria, driving out the petty
princes who governed them. Elated with his
frequent victories, he began to look upon the
k emperor, Andronicus IV., to whom
nothing was now left but the city of Constanti-
nople and the neighbouring country, as his
vassal. Accordingly he sent him a haughty mes-
sage, commanding him to pay a yearly tribute,
and send his brother Manuel to attend him in his
military expeditions. This demand the emperor
was obliged to comply with, but died soon after
in 1387.
Manuel no sooner heard of his brother's death
than he hastened to Constantinople, without
taking leave of the sultan, or acquainting him
with the reasons of his sudden departure. At
this Bajazet was so offended that he passed with
great expedition from Bithynia into Thrace, ra-
vaged the country adjoining to Constantinople,
and at last invested the city both by sea and land.
In this extremity Manuel had recourse to the
western princes ; who sent him an army of
130,000 men, under Sigismund king of Hun-
gary, and John count of Nevers. But, though
the western troops proved at first successful, they
were in the end defeated with great slaughter by
Bajazet. As he found, however, that the citizens
were determined to hold out to the last, he ap-
plied to John, the son of Andronicus IV. who
had a better title to the crown than Manuel.
With him he entered into a private agreement,
by which Bajazet was to place John upon the
Constantinopolitan throne, while John was to
deliver up the city to the Turks, and remove the
imperial seat to the Peloponnesus. At the same
time he sent deputies to the inhabitants of Con-
stantinople, offering to withdraw his army, and
cease from further hostilities, provided they ex-
pelled Manuel and placed John upon the throne.
This proposal rent the city into factions ; but
Manuel prevented the mischiefs which were ready
to ensue by a voluntary resignation ; and, having
conducted John to the palace, set sail for Ve-
nice. Thence he went to the courts of all the
western princes to solicit their assistance against
the Turks. He was every where received with
the greatest demonstrations of esteem, and
promised large supplies, all Christendom being
now alarmed at the progress of the infidels. In
the mean time Bajazet did not fail to put John
in mind of his promise ; but, the citizens refusing
to comply with such a scandalous treaty, the siege
was renewed, and the city assaulted with more
fury than ever. When it was already reduced to
the last extremity, tidings were brought to the
sultan that Tamerlane, the victorious Tartar,
having over-run all the east with incredible
celerity, had now turned his arms against the
Turks, and was preparing to break into Syria.
Alarmed at the danger that threatened him,
Bajazet raised the siege in great haste, and ad-
vanced against Tamerlane with a numerous and
well disciplined army ; but the Tartars totally
defeated and took him prisoner, after having cut
most of his men in pieces. Thus Constantinople
was preserved for the present. But this relief
was of short duration. In 1424, in the reign of
John V., the son of Manuel, the city was be-
sieged by Amurath II. The inhabitants defended
themselves with great bravery ; but must in the
end have submitted, had not the emperor pre-
vailed upon the prince of Caramania to counte-
nance an impostor and pretender to the Turkish
throne. This obliged Amurath to raise the siege,
and march with all his forces against the usurper.
Having then no other enemies, he entered Ma-
cedon at the head of a powerful army ; and,
having ravaged the country far and near, took and
plun ' --ulniii-a, and most of '.ho < itii1*
ROME.
23
of TEtolia, Phocis, and Bceotia. From Greece
he marched into Servia ; reduced the greatest
part of it ; and besieged the strong city of Bel-
grade ; but here he met with a vigorous repulse,
no fewer than 15,000 Turks being slain by the
Christians in one sally. In his retreat he was
attacked by the celebrated John Hunniades, who
cut off great numbers of his men. Not long
after he gained a still more complete victory over
the enemy in the plains of Transylvania, with
the loss of only 3000 of his own men, whereas
20,000 Turks were killed on the field of battle,
and almost an equal number in the pursuit. Amu-
rath, who was then at Adrianople, sent an army
into Transylvania far more numerous than the
former ; but they were attended with no better
success, being cut off almost to a man by the
brave Hungarian. He gained several other vic-
tories no less remarkable ; but was at last en-
tirely defeated in 1448; and with this defeat
ended all hopes of preserving the empire. The
unhappy emperor was now obliged to pay an
annual tribute of 300,000 aspers to the sultan,
and to yield up to him some strong holds on the
Euxine. However, as he doubted not but Amu-
rath would soon attempt to become master of
the capital, he renewed the union between the
Greek and Latin churches, hoping that this
would induce the western princes to assist him
in the defence of the city. This produced great
disturbances, which the emperor did not long
survive ; as he died in 1448, leaving the empire,
now confined within the walls of Constantinople,
to his brother Constantine XIII.
Amurath died in 1450, and was succeeded by
his son Mohammed II. In the beginning of his
reign he entered into an alliance with Constan-
tine, and pretended a great desire to live in
friendship with him ; but no sooner had he put
an end to a war in which he was engaged with
Ibrahim king of Caramania, than he built a
strong fort on the European side of the Bospho-
rus, opposite to another in Asia ; in both of
which he placed garrisons. These two castles
commanded the Straits ; and the former, being
but five miles from the city, kept it in a manner
blocked up. This soon produced a misunder-
standing between him and the emperor, which
ended in the siege of the city. This commenced
on the 6th of April, 1453 ; Mohammed's numer-
ous forces covering the plains before it on the
land side, and a fleet of 300 sail blockading it
by sea. The emperor, however, had taken care
to secure the haven, in which were three large
ships, twenty small ones, and a great number of
galleys. Mohammed began the siege by plant-
ing batteries, and raising works in several places
as high as the walls, whence the besieged were
incessantly galled with arrows. He had in his
camp a piece of ordnance of prodigious size,
which is said to have carried a stone ball of
100 Ib. With this piece the enemy made several
breaches in the walls ; which, however, were re-
paired with incredible expedition. Mohammed,
the better to carry on the siege, caused new levies
to be made throughout his dominions, by which
his army was soon increased to near 400,000
men ; while the garrison consisted only of 9000
regular troops, viz. 6000 Greeks and 3000 Ge-
noese and Venetians. As the enemy continued
to batter the walls day and night, a great part of
them was at last beaten down ; while the Turks,
however, were busy filling up the ditch, a new
wall was built. This threw the tyrant into a
prodigious rage, which was greatly heightened
when he saw his whole fleet worsted by five
ships, of which four were laden with corn from
Peloponnesus, and the other with provisions
from Chios. These made their way through the
Turkish fleet ; and, to the great joy of the Chris-
tians, got safe into the harbour. The Turks at-
tempted several times to force the haven ; but, all
their efforts proving ineffectual, Mohammed
formed the design of conveying eighty galleys
eight miles over land into it. This he accom-
plished by means of certain engines, the contri-
vance of a renegado; and, having then either
taken or sunk all the Christian ships, he caused
a bridge to be built over it with surprising expe-
dition. Thus the city was laid open on that
side likewise, and assaulted on all sides. Con-
stantine, now feeling that he could not long hold
oat against such a mighty and successful enemy,
sent deputies to Mohammed, offering to acknow-
ledge himself his vassal, by paying him yearly what
tribute he should impose, provided he raised
the siege and withdrew. The tyrant answered
that he was determined to become master of the
city : but if Constantine would deliver it up
forthwith, he would yield to him the Pelopon-
nesus, and other provinces to his brothers, which
they should enjoy peaceably : but if he held out
to the last extremity, and suffered it to be taken
by assault, he would put him and the whole no-
bility to the sword, carry the inhabitants into
captivity, and give up the city to plunder. These
conditions were rejected by the emperor. The
siege was therefore renewed with vigor, and con-
tinued till the 25th of May; when a report
being spread in the Turkish camp that a large
army was advancing to the relief of the city under
the celebrated John Hunniades, the soldiers
began to mutiny, and pressed Mohammed to
raise it. Mohammed was upon the point of
complying, when he was advised by Zagan, a
Turkish officer of great intrepidity, and an irre-
concileable enemy to the Christians, to attempl
immediately a general assault. To this he said
the soldiers would not be averse, provided the
sultan promised to abandon the city to be plun-
dered by them. Mohammed accordingly pub-
lished a proclamation throughout the camp, de-
claring that he gave up to his soldiers all the wealth
of the opulent capital before them, requiring for
himself only the empty houses ; and they unani-
mously desired to be led to the attack. Here-
upon Constantine was summoned for the last
time to deliver up the city, with a promise of his
life and liberty ; but to this he answered that
he was unalterably determined to defend tne
city or perish with it. The attack began at three
in the morning on the 29th of May ; such troops
being first employed as the sultan valued least,
and designed for no other purpose than to tire
the Christians.' After the carnage had lasted
some hours, the Janissaries and other fresh troops
advanced in good order. The Christians mak-
ing prodigious efforts twice repulsed the enemy :
24
R O M E.
but being in the end exhausted, they were no
longer able to stand their ground ; and the enemy
broke in several places into the city. In the
mean time Justiriiani, the commander of the
Genoese and a select body of Greeks, having re-
ceived two wounds, one in the thigh and the other
in the hand, was so disheartened that he caused
himself to be conveyed to Galata. His men,
dismayed at the sudden flight of their general,
immediately quitted their posts and fled in the
utmost confusion. The emperor, however, at-
tended with a few of the most resolute of the
nobility, still kept his post, striving with unpa-
ralleled resolution to oppose the multitude of
barbarians that now broke in from every quarter.
Being in the end overpowered with numbers,
and seeing most of his friends fallen around him,
4 What !' cried he aloud, ' is there no Christian
left alive to strike off my head '' Scarcely had he
uttered these words, when one of the enemy,
not knowing him, cut him across the face with
his sabre ; and another coming behind him with
a blow on the back part of his head laid him
dead on the ground. The few Christians now.
left alive fled; and the Turks, meeting with no'1
further opposition, entered the city, and put all
they met without distinction to the sword.
Many thousands took refuge in the church of St.
Sophia, but they were all massacred in their
asylum. Most of the nobility were, by the sul-
tan's orders, cut off, and the rest kept for purposes
more grievous than death. Many of the inhabit-
ants, among whom were some men of great
learning, escaped, however, while the Turks
were busied in plundering the city. These, em-
barking in the ships then in the harbour, arrived
safe in Italy ; where, with the study of the
Greek tongue, they revived the liberal sciences,
which had long been neglected in the west.
After the expiration of three days, Mohammed
commanded his soldiers to forbear all farther
hostilities on pain of death ; and thus put an
end to as cruel a pillage and massacre as any
recorded in history. XThe next day he made his
triumphal entry into Constantinople, and chose
it for the seat of the Turkish empire, which it
has continued to be ever since.
PART VI.
ROME, MODERN.
Modern Rome is built chiefly on the left or
eastern bank of the Tiber, there being only a
few streets on its western side. The walls are
of a quadrangular figure, somewhat more than
three miles each way, the circuit being in all
about thirteen miles. While this is equal to the
circumference of ancient Rome in its greatest
splendor, there is this distinction perhaps be-
tween the ancient and modem city, that of the
' seven hills' on which the former stood, several,
viz. Mons Aventinus, Palatinus, Ccelius, and in
some degree Mons Esquilinus, Viminalis, and
Quirinalis, are covered with vineyards, corn
fields, or villas, the clpsely peopled part being
confined to the level ground between the emi-
nences and the river. The length of this part is
less than two miles, its breadth from a mile to a
mile and a half.
The most regular part of Modern Rome i?
that adjacent to the north gate, or Porta del
Popolo, and the quarter of Borgo, on the right
of the river. The points from which it can best
be viewed are the Pincian Hill, Mount Jani-
culum, the tower of the Capitol, and the tops of
the columns of Trajan or Antonine.
The streets have, seldom any foot pavement ;
and are in general not wider than those of the
older parts of London. Some indeed are
wretchedly narrow and irregular, but the houses
are not high ; and a number of the streets are long
and straight, and not unfrequently terminated by
an obelisk, fountain, or church. The great
drawback on the beauty of the city is the sin-
gular discrepancy of its buildings, a mansion
entitled to the name of palace being often
placed amidst a group of hovefs ; and the mean
appearance of the shops. Three of the finest
streets of the city diverge from the Piazza di
Popolo, near the northern gate, viz. the Corso,
extending to the foot of the Capitol ; the Strada
del Babbuina, ending in the Piazza di Spagna,
and the Strada di Ripetta, leading to the Tiber.
The Corso is the great public walk, and the
crowded scene of the carnival. It is perfectly
straight, about a mile in length, and has a foot
pavement on each side. Other fine streets are
i he Strada Felice, the- Strada Langara, the Strada
Maggiore, and the Strada Pia. The houses are
partly of stone and brick, frequently covered
with stucco, and generally roofed with shingle.
Marble is less common here than in the north of
Italy.
The modern squares are numerous, adorned
with obelisks, fountains, &c. ; but also generally
of small size. In front of St. Peter's church is
a large oval area form, surrounded with a mag-
nificent colonnade ; and in the middle between
two fountains stands an Egyptian obelisk, of a
single piece of granite, seventy-eight feet in
height. The elegant Piazza Navona, a square
in the centre of the town, next in size to that of
St. Peter, is of an oblong form, and adorned by
the church of St. Agnes, but its chief ornament
is the fountain in its centre. It consists of a
circular basin of seventy-three feet in diameter,
in the middle of which stands a rock surmount-
ed by an obelisk; on this rock recline four
figures representing four great rivers, from which
streams of water issue. - This is on the whole
the most superb fountain of the city. The
Piazza di Spagna, occupied largely by foreigners
of distinction, has also a fountain ; but its chief
ornament is a noble flight of steps that ascend
from it to the church and square della Tririita
di Monte; the latter extending along the brow
of the Pincian Hill, and commanding a delight-
ful view. The Piazza di Monte Cavallo, one of
the finest in the city both for its situation and
buildings, stands on Mount Quirinal, and takes
its name from two marble horses placed on its
summit, said to be the work of Phidias and
Praxiteles. Between them stands an Egyptian
obelisk of granite, forty-five feet in height. Old
liiiiTii.init iuin now forms a small square, deco-
rated in the middle with a fine bronze eques-
trian statue of Marcus Antoninus, accounted a
master piece of ancient art. The Campidoglio
ROME.
25
Moderno, or Modern Capitol, is ascended by a
staircase adorned with statues : but all the sta-
tues of the forum have disappeared , and a few
scattered porticoes, with here and there an insu-
lated column, fragments of marble, capitals, and
cornices, are now its only memorials. The
Piazza di Campo Marzio, taking its name from
the Campus Martius, is in a great measure
covered with buildings.
The ancient wall of Rome is in many places
in good preservation ; and among the ancient
edifices the Pantheon and Coliseum are still
conspicuous. For the present state and history
of the latter see our article AMPHITHEATRE.
At a short distance from it, near the Viminal
and Quirinal hills, stands a portion of the baths
of Dioclesian, converted into a convent. The
principal hall forms the church, retaining its an-
cient walls, pillars, and vaults ; there remains
also a large square, supported by 100 pillars,
with a beautiful fountain in the middle. Of
the triumphal arches the only one remaining
entire is the remarkable one of Constantine,
with its pillars, statues, and bas reliefs. The
arch of Septimus Severus, also of marble, has
its bas reliefs much damaged : and that of Titus
has also suffered severely. Trajan's pillar is still
covered with admirable bas reliefs, representing
his Dacian expedition. These reliefs contain
2500 figures of men, besides a number of ele-
phants, horses, and trophies. That in honor of
the emperor Marcus Aurelius is of equal height,
but of inferior execution.
Of the ancient aqueducts there remain the
Fontana Felice, on the Viminal Mountain, sup-
plied by the Aqua Claudia, and discharging itself
through a rock under an Ionic arcade : at a
considerable distance, and on the other side of
the Tiber, rises an arcade, supported by pillars
of granite, through which three streams descend
from the summit of an adjacent hill. 2. The
Fontana di Treri, an elegant building of Corin-
thian architecture, ornamented with statues, and
is perhaps the most finished structure of the kind
in Europe. It would be tedious to enumerate the
other fountains in Rome. The sewers of the
ancient city are now much obstructed by stones
and earth ; but the Cloaca Maxima still merits
attention. As to public baths, those great objects
of Roman luxury, there remain of those of Ca-
racalla little but the walls, and the baths of Titus,
in tolerable preservation.
The Palatine Mount is now a shapeless mass
of rubbish. Of the various theatres and circuses
of ancient Rome hardly a vestige remains : even
the Circus Maximus can be traced only by the
hollow scooped in the Aventine valley ; and
many other monuments are of course obscured
or demolished ; so that a stranger is generally
disappointed on his first investigation of this
capital. It has of late been proposed to make a
temporary diversion of the Tiber for the purpose
of antiquarian research ; but some attempts, in
1819 and 1820, to discover hidden relics, by
means of a small vessel, with an apparatus for
raising heavy bodies, have not succeeded.
Of the ancient roads, several, as the Via Latina,
the Via Vitellia, the Via Aurelia, still serve to ap-
proach the Capitol ; and the catacombs, originally
excavations made in digging out the earth used
as bricks for building, are of great extent, pene-
tratingj it is said, to a length of several miles.
The oldest church of modern Rome is that
of St. Clement. The church of St. Piedro di
Vincoli is a noble hall, supported by twenty
pillars of Parian marble, and adorned with
elegant tombs. St. Martin's and St. Silves-
ter's are built of part of the materials of the baths
of Titus. The church of St. Andrea, on Monte
Cavallo, though small, is highly finished. That of
St. Cecilia, in Trastevere, as well as those of St.
Maria in the same quarter, St. Sebastiano and
St. Piedro in Montorio, are all of great antiquity.
The last contains Raphael's famous picture of the
Transfiguration. The churches of St. Grisogono
and St. Giovanni e Paolo are splendidly adorned
with pillars. Santa Maria Egiznea, a building
of the Ionic order, is supposed to be the ancient
temple of Fortuna Virilis, and Santa Maria So-
pra Minerva a temple of that goddess : while the
church of Ava Coeli is said to occupy the site of
the temple of Jupiter Capitolinus.
The Pantheon and seven patriarchal basilicae,
or cathedrals, are all of considerable antiquity.
The pantheon, built in the reign of Augustus,
and called from its form the rotunda, contains
busts of a number of eminent men. Of the
cathedrals, Santa Maria Maggiore is situated on
the Esquiline Mount, and has two fronts, each
of modern architecture. St. Giovanni, in Late-
rone, is the regular cathedral of the diocese of
Rome, It was founded by Constantine. Anothei
cathedral, that of Santa Croce, in Gierusalemme,
was erected by Constantine on the ruins of a
temple of Venus, and is remarkable for its an-
tique form, and beautiful retired situation. A
third church, begun by Constantine but much ex-
tended since his reign, is that of St Paoli, out
side of the city wall. The cathedral of St
Lorenzo is also outside of the city, on the Via
Tiburtina.
The original St. Peter's was also erected by
Constantine, but had been giving way for some
time previous to the middle of the fifteenth century,
when Nicholas V. conceived the project of taking
it down. The work, however, was feebly prose-
cuted, till the reign of Julius II.. That prelate
proceeded with it on a grand scale, and succeed-
ing popes contributed to its completion. The
most celebrated architects of modern times, Bra-
mante, Raphael, Michael Angelo, Vignola, Ma-
derno, and Bernini, have here displayed their
talents. A circular court, formed by a vast co-
lonnade, first strikes the eye of the spectator,
and leads to the majestic front of the building,
extending 400 feet in length, and rising to the
height of 180. The eye is at the same time gra-
tified with the majestic dome, rising from the
central part of the church to a height from the
ground of 324 feet. The interior of the church
corresponds with its outward grandeur. Five
portals open into the portico, a gallery extending
across the width of the edifice, and resembling in
size a cathedral. This magnificent entrance is
paved with marble, covered with a gilded vault,
and closed at either end by statues. Opposite to
the five portals are five doors, leading into the
church. On entering any of these the spectator
26
ROME.
beholds the most spacious hall ever constructed
by human art, expanding in magnificent perspec-
tive, its length being above 600 English feet.
The aisles and altars are adorned with a number
of ancient pillars ; the walls with festoons,
wreaths, tiaras, and other ornaments of marble.
The patriarchal chair of St. Peter is a throne,
elevated to the height of seventy feet. The high
altar has below it what is called St. Peter's Tomb ;
above a magnificent canopy of brass, towering to
the height of 132 feet. A well lighted staircase
leads to the roof of St. Peter's, from which the
dome can be viewed with minuteness. The ac-
cess to every part of it, and even the ascent to
the cupola, is perfectly easy. The recent part
of the pile is the vestry or sacristi, a structure
connected with the main building by a gallery,
and adorned with a number of pillars, statues,
paintings, and mosaics. It forms of itself a spa-
cious church.
* The first visit paid to the church of St. Pe-
ter's,' says the spirited author of ' Italy,' ' should
not be made by the ordinary conveyance to all
such sights in Rome — a carriage. It should be
approached by pilgrim-steps, slow and difficult ;
and that great temple,
. U'here majesty,
Power, glory, strength, and beauty, all are hailed,
should be reached on foot, and sought through
those various details of misery, disorder, and
degradation, which distinguish alike all its ave-
nues, and are the elements out of which its gran-
deur sprang. Around the other great Basilica
of Rome there reigns a saddening region of de-
solation ; and St. Paul's and St. John de Late-
ran rise on the dreary frontiers of the infected
deserts they denominate, like temples dedicated to
the genius of the mal-aria. But the approach
to St. Peter's has another character : every nar-
row avenue is thickly colonised with a race of
beings marked by traits of indigence or demo-
ralisation ; and every dark dilapidated den
teems with a tenantry, which might well belong
to other purlieus than those of the church. It
is thus that the altars of St. Peter's are approach-
ed, 93 they were raised, upon the necks of the
people. Here the streets of the filthiest city in
Europe are found filthiest ! Here forms, on
which Love had set his seal, are equally disfi-
gured by the neglect of cleanliness, or by mere-
tricious ornament '.—and the young plebeian
beauty, lying on the threshold of some ruinous
fabric, withdrawing the bodkin from tresses it is
dangerous to loosen, and submitting a fine head
to the inspection of some ancient crone, smiles
on the passing stranger with all the complacency
of a Du Barry, when she made her toilette for
the good of the public, surrounded by the dig-
nitaries of the church, who emulously canvassed
for its offices. The streets leading immediately
to St. Peter's occasionally exhibit a spacious but
dilapidated palace, mingled with inferior build-
ings ; but many even of these have their facades
of marble disfigured by washerwomen's lines;
and an atmosphere of soapsuds indicates an at-
tention to cleanliness, whose effects are nowhere
% i-ible in Rome, but in the stench which issues
from the laundresses' windows in the very finest
of its streets. These discouraging avenues at
last waded through, the Piazza de St. Pietro in
Vaticano bursts upon the eye, more striking
from the contrast that its beauty and magni-
ficence present to the images of poverty and
disgust which have preceded it.
' Nothing that art or judgment can dictate, or
ciiticism or pretension utter, on this great object
of universal wonder, has been left unsaid or un-
illustrated. The profoundest Virtuosi of the last
age have commented on it ; the greatest poet of
the present age has sung it ; and from the folios
of Piranesi to the portefeuille of the most juve-
nile traveller, views of its architecture are to be
found. Little is now left to future visitants, but
to enjoy, in silence, their own opinion (should
they have any they may call their own), or at
most to express the impression communicated to
their own minds, on their first view of this sup-
posed miracle of art. The first impression of
the fayade of St. Peter on the writer of these
pages was one of utter disappointment. It did
not strike her by its magnitude ! — and in its
want of simplicity and completeness (broken up
as it is by pilasters, loggie, niches, balustrades,
&c.), it did not affect her with pleasurable emo-
tion. With none present to direct her judgment,
and shame her ignorance, she turned involun-
tarily away, after a few minutes' observation, to
contemplate objects infinitely more attractive to
her unlearned apprehension. These were its
beautiful semicircular colonnades ; its noble
fountains dashing their pure bright waters into
mid-air, sparkling with sun-beams, and diffusing
freshness as they fall ; and that antique obelisk,
whose transfer from Heliopolis (where the son
of Sesostris raised it) to the circus of Nero,
where Caligula placed it, includes the history of
fallen empires, and of power not subdued, but
strangely transmuted. The impression made by
the fafade of- St. Peter's was never effaced.
The original design of Michael Angelo, shown
in the library of the Vatican, served but to con-
firm it ; and the opinion of one. whose judg-
ment, next to that of Michael Angelo's own,
might be trusted, left the decision of ignorance
sanctioned by the dictum of the presiding genius
of the art.
' But the magnitude of St. Peter's is never
justly estimated on a first or many following in-
spections ; which is the fault of its faultlessness :
for besides that it is out of the span of human re-
cognition— beyond the test-of all received expe-
rience— the harmony of its proportions is so
perfect as to leave nothing for comparison ; there
fluttei colossal doves in cornices lofty as the
eagle's eyrie ; there frown saints
In bulk as huge
As whom the fables name of monstrous size,
the Briareus's of the martyrology ! — while che-
rubs, tall as Typhons, and letters to be read by
the cubit, diminish the height of that cupola
(the Ossa piled on Pelion of architecture), and
lessen the vastness of those interminable naves,
whose votive chapels might serve for metropolitan
churches. But the temple of St. Peter, with all
its unrivalled riches, surpassing the works of
Memphian kings, is but a gigantic toy, and the
ROM E.
'2:
wanton, the incalculable profusion of its gems and
precious stones, its statues and pictures, its mo-
saics and gold, its bronzes and marbles, its spot-
less freshness and unsullied lustre, separate it
from the imagination, and leave it without one
of those solemn associations which blend such
edifices with a remembrance of the mysterious
past, and give them an interest in the mind be-
yond what the eye can command/
' Among the number of its splendid mauso-
leums,' continues this writer, ' all raised to the
memory of pontiffs and princes of the church, or
to enshrine the ashes of kings and queens, there
i.s one which affords a striking commentary on
the text of this mighty edifice. It is the tomb
of the famous countess Matilda, the most pow-
erful ally the church ever knew ; and her de-
fence of the popes and their system, and the
bequest of her valuable patrimony to the church,
have obtained for her a monument in St. Peter's,
to which her ashes were conveyed from Mantua
by pope Urban VIII. Her effigy represents a
stern and dogged-looking woman, one whose
strong volition might have passed for genius —
she holds the papal sceptre and tiara in one hand,
and in the oilier the keys of the church ! at her
feet lies her sarcophagus ! and its relievoes form
the precious part of the monument. They re-
present the emperor Henry IV. at the feet of
pope Gregory VII., where Matilda had assisted
to place him. The abject, prostrate, half-naked
emperor, surrounded by Italian princes and ec-
clesiastical barons, the witnesses of his shame
and degradation, forms a fine contrast to the
haughty and all powerful pope ; who seems
ready to place his foot upon the imperial neck of
the unfortunate sovereign, who, thus crouching
in the dust, represented the Roman Caesars !
Such was the church in her great day ! — When
the emperor Joseph II. visited St. Peter's, and
his conductors led him to this monument, he is
said to have turned from it with an irouical
smile, and a crimson blush of indignation ! It
was then, perhaps, that his personal feelings prave
new impulse to his philosophical reformation,
urging him to decide on the fate of cowls, hoods,
and habits, with their wearers ; and from that
moment he may have considered
Relic beads,
Indulgences, dispenses, pardons, bulls,
The sport of winds.' Milton.
One of the most remarkable modern additions
to St. Peter's is the beautiful mausoleum, the
work of Canova, raised to the memory of James
II., king of England, his queen, and his two
sons. This monument, and these titles, were be-
stowed by the munificence of the prince regent of
England.
We shall follow the writer just quoted through
the Vatican and the other principal palaces.
The Palazzo Ponteficio del Vaticano, commu-
nicating with St. Peter's, is rather a congregation
of palaces, than a single edifice ; and its archi-
tecture is as various as the ages and talents that
went to its completion. The genius of Bramante,
of Raphael, of San Gullo, of Fontana, of Bernini,
with many other eminent and scarcely inferior ar-
tists, has been concentrated on its progressive
erection ; and the talents of all ages, of all na-
tions, have contributed to lill its marble laby-
rinths. The elevation is divided into three lofty
stories, each story surrounded by a loggia, or open
corridor, richly painted ; its countless halls, its
endless galleries, its beautiful chapels, its vener-
able library, its twenty courts (cortili), and 200
stair-cases, present a wilderness of building, out
of which the stranger, how frequent soever his
visits, can only recal those particular apartments
more eminently distinguished than others by
some miracle or miracles of art, from which they
take their name. The Carte du Pays he will
never master ; but, go where he may, he will
never forget the loggia of Raphael, the Borgia
suite, the Portico del Cortile, the Belvedere, and
the successive cabinets dedicated to various works
of antiquity, — the perfection of all that genius
ever conceived, or art and labor perfected. Such
are the halls of the animals, of the busts, of the
muses, of the rotunda, the cabinets of the biga,
of the candelabras, and that vast covered space
which takes the various names of corridore of
inscriptions (dei Lapidi), of the belvedere, of the
museo chiaramonti, and clementino. This gal-
lery is divided by gates and columns, as if to
make artificial stages in its interminable length,
and afford stations for the imagination to repose
on, or memory to refer to. The first portion
(into which the library of the Vatican opens) is
lined on either side with the rarest collection of
inscriptions known in Europe. Those of the
early Greek and Latin Christians, which have
been found in the catacombs, occupy the left side;
those of the heathen world are on the right,
mingled with tombs, monuments, and sarcophagi,
each in itself a study and a moral. The museo
cliiaramonti succeeds, rich in monuments of an-
tiquity, statues, busts, and basso-relievoes — the
work of the Phidias's of other ages, arranged by
the Phidias of the present. Here the living
make their personal acquaintance with the dead,
and the features of aCommodus, a Tiberius, and
a Lucius Verus, become as familiar to the mind
as their deeds and reigns. The Museo Pio-Cle-
mentino, the collection of the treasures accumu-
lated by the late pope, changes the scene, and
belongs to the edifices occupied by the deities
and priestesses and emperors of the preceding
gallery. Here are hung the appropriate orna-
ments of temples, theatres, basilicas, forums, cir-
cuses, baths, and palaces, all beautiful in design
and perfect in execution ; and to these naturally
follows the vestibule of the tombs — with the
sarcophagus of a Scipio and the sepulchral effi-
gies of some fair Roman dame, over whose death-
couch love still hovers. In moving among these
consecrated images of art and time, the mind of
the spectator catches something of their calm
and dignity; for there is in ancient sculpture a
quietude of grandeur, a solemnity of grace, not
found in the works of modern genius, and which
belong, perhaps, to the originals they copied.
This majesty of expression and tranquillity of
form, so well known to the Egyptians, lost some-
thing of its monumental sobriety under the
Greeks. It is frequently found among savages,
but rarely appears amidst the artificial exaggera-
tion of corrupt civilisation. The French, who,
ROME.
up to the Revolution, were a nation of dancing-
masters, were the least graceful people of Europe;
and tne Apollo of Belvidere could never have
been imagined in the court of a Louis XV.
This gallery so rich and beautiful, through the
munificence of the late and present pope, was
but 'of bare walls' when Evelyn visited it in
1 643 ; and he observes that, as he passed
through it on his way to the Vatican library, it
was full of poor people, to the number of 1500
or 2000, ' to each of whom, in his passage to St.
Peter's, the pope gave a mezzo-grosso' (half a
farthing). This is a curious episode in the his-
tory of the palace of the Vatican — of that palace
whose uses and magnificence furnished Milton
with his splendid imagery alike of hell and hea-
ven— his' palace of Pandemonium, and that
' Where sceptred angels held their residence.'
The library of the Vatican, described as it me-
rits, would fill the pages of an ample volume.
The locale is a palace in itself; and its galleries
and various chambers might be visited as a
splendid museum, had they no other attraction.
One of the most striking circumstances in the
greatest library of Europe is, that not a book is
to be seen, although of MSS. alone there are
said to be 30,000 volumes. The cases in which
the collection is preserved give no indication of
their contents ; and the whole edifice, all campo
d'ore and ultra-marine, looks rather like some
Gothic hall of grotesque festivity than the re-
treat of learning. The principal gallery, 317
palmi in length, is divided into naves, separated
by pillars ; and the walls are painted with re-
presentations of the most celebrated ancient li-
braries, of general councils, and of the inventors
of the characters of various languages. Low
cabinets, richly and fantastically painted, sur-
round this superb saloon, and contain the most
precious of the MSS. ; and tables of Egyptian
granite, marble sarcophagi, and other fragments
of antiquity, are scattered over its centre. Two
vast corridors to the right and left, divided into
various apartments, open out of this main gallery.
Here are modern book cases filled with choice
works ; and objects of art, of great value and
antiquity, are profusely scattered. In one of
these is a picture of the design of the Facade of
St. Peter's by Michael Angelo, far superior to
that which has been adopted. From the hall of
the papyrus, painted by Mengs, opens another
spacious gallery, ornamented with gold and
mirrors, and containing the most precious books
in the collection ; and cabinets devoted to me-
dals, engravings, inscriptions, succeed, and termi-
nate this wing. On the other side a suite of beau-
tiful rooms, with columns of porphyry, are filled
with book cases, decorated with Etruscan vases ;
and the wall is decorated with a series of paint-
ings illustrating the trials of the late and present
po'pes, during the Revolution :— the crowning
and restoration of Pius VII., closes these fasti of
papal sensibility and endurance.
The Quirinal is a stupendous fabric, only less
vast than the Vatican, and crowns the Quirinal
hill, which commands a noble view of the city.
Tope Pius VI. dul much to adorn both the
palace and the Piazza del Monte Cavullo on
which it stands. He removed the obelisk which*
stood near the mausoleum of Augustus, to the
front of the palace; and, not being able to dis-
place the Coliseum, he carried off all that was
moveable from the forum, and transported that
gigantic vase of oriental granite to the Monte
Cavallo, which now receives the waters of its
beautiful fountain. The state apartments of the
Quirinal are sufficiently noble ; they were inha-
bited by the emperor of Austria and his family
on his visit to Rome ; and in their gaudy dress
when we saw them, bore testimony to the
still unpaid-for honors offered to the imperial
guests. The gardens of the Quirinal are spaci-
ous and delightful, but encumbered with stones
and marbles, as usual, disputing the soilNvith
nature and vegetation. But all that is bright
and fair in the Quirinal is brightest and fairest
in that chapel in which the pope himself ponti-
ficates on Sundays and other holydays. When
lighted by the mid-day beams, it looks like the
temple of the sun, which once occupied its site.
' Here,' says lady Morgan, ' pictured saints ap-
pear as demi-gods ; and the high altar exhibits a
cross, brilliant and beautiful as that which lies
on a lady's bosom. Here sounds that enchant,
and odors that intoxicate, fill the air ; and mys-
teries are consummated with forms so beautiful,
and amidst objects so alluring, that the rigid
or the ignorant might doubt whether he wit-
nesses Christian ceremonies or heathen rites,
and whether this is the temple of Apollo or the
chapel of the pope.' The chapel of the Quirinal
is on Sundays filled to suffocation. The tribunes
on either side are occupied by the elegantes of
London and Paris, Petersburgh and Vienna,
Cracow or New York. In the central nave the*
throng is composed of abbots, priors, and digni-
taries in grand costume — the mamelukes of the
church ! Roman generals, all armed for the
military service of the altar, the only service
they have ever seen ; monks, guards, friars,
Swiss soldiers, and officers of state ! Outside a
cordon, drawn round the choir, are placed the
foreign gentlemen. The choir, the scene of
action, all brilliant and beautiful, is still a void.
When the signal is given, the crowd divides !
and the procession begins ! Mutes and others
form the avant-garde of the pageant, and lead the
way.
' Then comes personified infallibility ! feeble as
womanhood ! helpless as infancy ! withered by time
and bent by infirmity ; but borne aloft, like some
idol of Pagan worship, on the necks of men, above
all human contact. The conclave follows, each of
its pririces robed like an eastern sultan ! Habits
of silk and brocade, glittering with gold and sil-
ver, succeeded by robes of velvet, and vestments
of point lace, the envy of reigning empresses.*
* We must find room for the note of our spirited
guide. ' The details of the cardinal's toilette, which,
at my own very womanish desire, weie exhibited to
me, are minute, splendid, and numerous, beyond
description ; for every ceremony has its dress. On
some days the cardinals dress and undress as often
as the three Mr. Singletons in the farce. The ctolc.
or scarf, is now ;i sush superbly tissued : it is a sym-
bol ol the lost innocence of man — not of the cardi
ROME.
29
The toilette of these church exquisites is perfect ;
not a hair displaced, not a point neglected,
from the powdered toupee to 'the diamond shoe-
buckle. The pope is at last deposited on his
golden throne : his ecclesiastical attendants fold
round him his ample caftan, white and brilliant
as the nuptial dress of bridal queens ! they
arrange his dazzling mitre : they blow his nose ;
they wipe his mouth, and exhibit the represen-
tation of Divinity in all the disgusting helpless-
ness of driveling caducity. His holiness being
thus cradled on a throne to which emperors
once knelt, the conservators of Rome, the ca-
ryatides of the church, place themselves meekly
at its steps; and the manikin, who represents
the Roman senate, takes his humble station
near that imperial seat, more gorgeous than any
the Ca-'sars ever mounted. Meantime the demi-
gods of the conclave repose their eminences in
their stalls on velvet cushions, and their cau-
datorj (or tail-bearers) place themselves at their
feet. In the centre stand, or sit, on the steps
of the high altar, the bishops with their superb
mitres and tissued vestments. Then the choir
raises the high hosannahs, the pope pontificates ;
and the temple of Jupiter never witnessed rites
so imposing or so splendid. Golden censers
fling their odors on the air ! harmony the most
perfect, and movements the most gracious,
delight the ear and eye ! At the elevation of
the host, a silence more impressive than even
this ' solemn concord of sweet sounds' succeeds;
all fall prostrate to the earth ; and the military,
falling lower than all, lay their arms of destruc-
tion at the feet of that mystery, operated in
memory of the salvation of mankind.' When
the ceremony is concluded, the procession re-
turns as it entered. The congregation rush after;
and the next moment the ante-room of this reli-
gious temple resembles the saloon of the opera.
The abbots and priors mingle among the lay
nal's. The piviale is a mantle, like the ancient
Irish cloak : it is of massive gold tissue, insupporta-
bly heavy. This represents the pastoral robe of the
patriarchs (for all in the church, Catholic or Protes-
tant, is borrowed from the Jews — Christ haying left
nothing to copy but virtue and self-denial). This
piviale was originally pluviale, and worn (as its
name imports) to keep out the weather, before gold
brocades were invented. The Soutane is a truly
eastern habit : it is of violet velvet or silk, and its
long and flowing train is held up by the caudatori.
This was surely not ' the cloak' which St. Paul left
behind him ' at Troas.' Next comes the golden pi-
anelli, and the manipolo, of embroidered satin,
which hangs on the arm, like a fine lady's reticule,
and is the scrip of the patriarchal herdsman, in which
he carried his bread and cheese. Then comes the
camicia, a dress of the richest point lace. I saw
three of these dresses belonging to one cardinal,
said to be worth £2000 ; and 1 know it for a fact,
that more than one petty reigning sovereign has en-
deavoured to wheedle his eminence out of a camicia
worn upon state days. The mitres are of gold and
silver, upon white or red grounds, according to the
cardinal's various ranks. In private society their
dress is a suit of black, edged with scarlet ; scarlet
stockings, and a little patch of red, called the calotte,
on the crown of their heads, with their cardinal hat
'"uler the arm."
crowd, and the cardinals chat with pretty
women, sport their red .stockings, and ask their
opinions of the pope's pontification, as a mar-
veilleux of the opera at Paris takes snuff, and
demands of his chere-belle, ' Comment trouvez
vous ca, comtesse?'
The palace of the Lateran, though now un-
inhabited, is vast and imposing; and, though
little of the original building remains, it is suf-
ficiently antiquated to recal its ancient destina-
tion as the scene of much of the licentious dis-
sipation and fierce feuds of popes and anti-popes
in the dark ages. It commands a sublime view
of the waste its lords have made ; — of the Cam-
pagna, stretching to the base of the blue Alba-
nian hills ; its desert, here and there spotted with
ancient ruins of the tombs of heroes, or imperial
aqueducts, with the walls of villas, and wreaks
of monuments which skirted the road from the
gates of the Lateran to the suburbs of Naples.
The church, or basilica, of San Giovanni Late-
rano, is the principal, and one of the oldest, ais
we have seen, in Rome.
In the baptistery (Battisterio Lateranense)
adjoining the church, built by Constantine, he
is said to have been baptised by St. Sylvester.
It was ravaged by frequent invaders, and long
remained in the lower ages in a state of absolute
ruin and spoliation ; until, attracting the notice
of successive pontiffs, and particularly that of
Gregory XIII. and Urban VIII., it took that
character of richness which now distinguishes it.
The baptismal font is an ancient urn of basalt,
ornamented with gold and bronze. From its
bosom the waters of life are still dispensed to
the Jews, who annually seek regeneration at so
much per head. This edifice (its great anti-
quity, its superb columns of porphyry, and fine
cornices, all plunder from the ancient monu-
ments of Rome, excepted) has but little to
excite admiration. Two of its pictures, how-
ever, afford a curious historical evidence, worth
noticing. One represents the council of Nice
burning books written against the bishops. The
other the breaking of the statues in the Roman
temples (probably the rivals of the Apollo and
the Antinous) : a bishop, with the air of a con-
jurer, stands by, tossing his golden censer, and
.purifying the spot defiled by the works of Praxi-
teles and Phidias This was before a bull was
fulminated to prevent (but too late) the convert-
ing of marble statues into lime, to build dwel-
ling houses.
Opposite to the great entrance of the palace
stands the venerable chapel of the Scala Santa
(holy steps), once a part of the ancient building.
This chapel is the shrine of daily pilgrimage to
the peasantry, many of whom were ascending
its holy steps on their knees, on the several days
that we passed by it. The veneration paid to
this flight of stairs arises from the five centre
steps, said to be part of the staircase of Pontius
Pilate's house, which were sanctified by the
blood of Christ. None can ascend it but on
their knees ; and lateral steps are provided for
those whose piety may not lead them to genu-
flexion.
There are family mansions, here terraed pa-
lace?, in great numbers; but the far greater part
30
II O M
are less remarkable for their architecture, tlr.ui
for their size and decorations : their spacious
courts and porticos, their halls and lofty apart-
ments, with the pillars, the marble, the statues,
and the paintings, that place them on a level
with royal residences in the north of Europe.
The Palazzo Doria is one of the finest, presenting
three large fronts, enclosing a spacious court.
Its stair-case, supported by light pillars of orien-
tal granite, leads to a magnificent picture gallery.
The Palazzo Ruspoli has a still finer staircase,
consisting of four flights, of thirty steps each,
each step being composed of a single piece of
marble, nearly ten feet long and two broad.
The Corsini palace is also remarkable for its
size, its furniture, and its gardens. The Palazzo
Farnese occupies one side of a handsome square.
Twelve massive pillars of Egyptian granite sup-
port the vestibule ; three ranges of arcades rise
one above the other around a spacious court ;
and noble apartments follow. The Palazzo
Costaguti and Palazzo Mattei are chiefly rich in
paintings. The Borghese palace is remarkable
for its porticoes, its columns, and its antiques.
In the Palazzo Spada stands the celebrated sta-
tue of Pompey, at the foot of which Caesar is
supposed to have fallen. The Barberini palace
has been much improved by the present prince,
but serves chiefly to remind the reflecting Pro-
testant of the wretched policy by which the
illegitimate children and nephews of the popes
have been formerly enriched. Here once reigned
the famous beauty and humorist, Cecca Buffbna,
the mistress of cardinal Francisco Barberini,
whose impudicity caused her to be publicly
whipped in the streets of Rome.
Rome, like most other Catholic cities, is well
supplied with inferior and antiquated hospitals.
The largest, the Spedale di St. Spihto, is open in-
discriminately to the poor of both sexes, the in-
sane, and to foundlings. That of St. Michele
is appropriated to the education of the children
of the poor, but it receives likewise the sick and
the aged. Here is also a house of correction.
The most splendid villas of Rome, as that of
the Borghese, Farnesina, &c.,are situated within
the walls. The first was built by cardinal Scipio
Borghese, the nephew of Paul V. ; and, with its
gardens and lake, occupies a space of nearly three
miles in circumference. The interior is filled
with antique and modern sculpture, pictures,
and mosaics — without, its grounds are covered
with casinos, temples, citadels, aviaries, and all
that a gorgeous and false taste, with wealth be-
yond calculation, could crowd together : Mont-
faucon says ' there is nothing better worth seeing
in Rome.'
The villa Pamfili-Doria, one of the finest in
the neighbourhood of Rome, was erected in the
seventeenth century, by the nephew of the Pamfili
pope Innocent X., whose extravagant passion
for his sister-in-law, Donna OlimpiaMaldachini,
u one of the most notable traits in his life. The
grounds, woods, and gardens are truly delicious :
the palace itself has all the generic features of
such edifices, and is filled with oictures and
statues, dreary and neglected.
The Villa Albani, raised in the middle of the
last century by the late cardinal, and belonging
to the present cardinal Albani, is, according to
lady Morgan, the most perfect and freshest of all
Roman villas. ' It looks like some pure and
elegant Grecian temple-^ a little Pantheon ! de-
dicated to all the rural gods, with whose statues
(the most perfect specimens of antiquities) its
marble colonnades and galleries are filled. It
ini^ht be deemed too ideal for a human habita-
tion ; yet is sufficiently commodious to be on • ;
and, of all other villas, this alone realizes th •
preconceived image of fervid fancies of a true
Italian villa. Its walls are encrusted with bas-o-
relievoes — its corridors grouped with fauns ami
nymphs — its ceilings all azure and gold — its sa-
loons perfumed by breezes, loaded with the
odors of orange-flowers. Its gardens, studded
with temples, command a view, terminated by a
waving line of acclivities, whose very names are
poetry. When I visited it, a distant blue mist
veiled the intervening wastes of the Campagna,
and the dews and lights of morning lent their
freshness and lustre to a scene and fabric such
as Love might have chosen for his Psyche
when he bore her from the wrath of Venus.
But, when the first glimpse of this vision faded,
the true character of the Roman villa came fortli ;
for artichokes and cabbages were flourishing
amidst fauns and satyrs, that seemed chiselled
by a Praxiteles ! The eminentissimo padrone of
this splendid villa rarely visits its wonders but
in the course of a morning drive : and his gar-
dens are hired out to a Roman marketman, to
raise vegetables during the spring and winter.
In summer even the custode vacates his hovel,
and the Villa Albani is left in the undisputed
possession of that terrible scourge of Roman
policy and Roman crimes — the Mai-aria ; th»>
causes and effects all morally connected, and
the strictest poetical justice every where visible.'
Rome contains, beside its celebrated Propa-
ganda Fide, several literary associations, as the
Arcadian academy, the archaeological, the acade-
mia Tiberiana, the academy of the fine arts. A
monthly publication, partaking of the nature of
a review and magazine, appears under the title
of Giornale Arcadico de Scienze, letere, ed arti;
and, since 1819, there has been published weekly
a Giornale encyclopedico, containing chiefly
translations on scientific subjects, along with
some pieces of poetry. Of the libraries of Rome,
the largest, after the Vatican, are the Augustines',
the Dominicans', and those of the Barberini,
Chigi, Colonna, and Corsini families ; that of
Collegio Romano has a museum of antiquities
and cabinet of natural history. The university
library is called, from its founder, pope Alex-
ander VII., the Alexandrine library; and the
library del Erao contains a collection of medals
and mathematical instruments, together with a
museum.
In 1835 the inhabitants of Rome amounted
to 13fi,000, a number which seems to have
formed, with little variation, its population for
about a century. Of these, no fewer than 9000
are said to be Jews, who are restricted to a par-
ticular quarter, the gates of which are closed
every night. This place is very dirty, but a
similar charge may be made against all modern
Rome. The number of inhabitants connect'- 1
R O M E.
31
with the church, as priests, monks, or nuns, is
computed at another 8000. The manufacturing
establishments, though small, are in considerable
variety, viz. -woollens, silks, velvets, hats, gloves,
stockings, liquors, pommade, and artificial flowers.
Rome has a bank, and Monte di Pieta, or house
for advancing money on deposited goods. Its
foreign trade is limited to imports of colonial ar-
ticles, and a few manufactured goods : its exports
consist of the produce of the adjacent country,
viz. olive oil, alum, vitriol, puzzuolano sand,
anise, &c.
No part pf the world has been more agitated
by the French revolution and its consequences —
none perhaps so much improved — as modern
Rome. Its nobles were, at the latter end of the
sixteenth century, a race of banditti : laying
waste their native city, and carrying desolation
and ruin into the bosom of domestic life. The
people, always insurgents or slaves, were the
most demoralised of Italy ; and though the dark
and cruel despotism of the clever Sixtus V.,
whose love of blood induced him to envy Eliza-
beth the cutting off of Mary's head, stemmed for
a time the torrent of iniquities, and broke for
ever the spirit of the Roman barons, yet at his
death the people were but the more debased by
the loss of their ferocity. During succeeding
periods, on the testimony of all travellers, the
civil and religious state of Rome was an anomaly
in human society. The court of the Quirinal,
like that of France under Louis XIII. and XIV.,
was directed by the intrigues of priests and
courtiers : the cardinals governed by cabal, and
all places were disposed of through their mis-
tresses and their laquais. The princes or pa-
tricians, rich, idle, ignorant, and avaricious, were
surrounded by dependents and parasites, the in-
digent followers of rank and opulence : the peo-
ple, without domestic habits, lived like the
commoners of nature, satisfied if bread and
church ceremonies sustained life and amused it.
The parasite came after the prince, and the beg-
gar after the saint. The women of all ranks,
divided into vestals and concubines, were either
shut up in a convent, or let loose upon society,
the mistresses of authorised paramours, and the
wives of other women's lovers. The passions of
all classes were unsubdued by education, unre-
strained by law. Murder had its price, from a
basket of figs to a purse of gold ; and the mur-
derer his asylum, from the high altar of the
church to the cabinet of the palace. Assassina-
tion was a deed of nightly occurrence. In the
midst of all this conuption of private manners,
the inquisition placed its sbirri upon the intellect
of the whole population. The capital punish-
ments were barbarous, but rarely inflicted ; and
if the people sometimes suffered the torture, or
submitted to the estrapado, they, in their turn,
occasionally hung up a cardinal, or derided the
vices of the conclave and the pontiff, through the
medium of Pasquino. In 1786 cardinal Tor-
tona so exasperated the people by his cruelties,
in his office of grand inquisitor, that they dragged
him from his carriage, and hung him on a gibbet
in the street.
As there was no internal police, the public
depended on the works of the Tarquins and the
Caesars for their few accommodations : and the
conduits for water, miraculously constructed
during the darkest ignorance on the subject oi
hydraulics, were at the end of twenty centuries,
and are still, the principal means of purification
afforded for cleansing a city, which seems to
have benefited but little by the advantages lent
it by antiquity. The Cloacae Maxima; obtrude
their neglected openings in vain ; and streets
lined with palaces, and palaces walled with mar-
bles, have even now few sewers to carry off their
accumulated filth.
Before Italy was conquered, Rome entered
into the revolutionary projects of France. Hugo
de Basseville, a man of letters and talent, was
chosen by the national convention to sound the
disposition of those who were no longer the po-
pulation worked on by the eloquence of the
monk Arnoldo, or the tribune Rienzi. Pius VI.,
who had refused to acknowledge the French
republic, watched with jealous vigilance the
motions of this emissary ; and de Basseville
affected to be occupied with the interests of the
French academy at Rome. At length an impru-
dence on the part of de Basseville called forth
the public opinion. After a dinner, given by
him to the young men of the French academy,
de Basseville drove with his wife and son to the
Corso, permitting his footmen to mount the tri-
colored cockade. This was the signal of tumult.
The street was accidentally or designedly filled
with the common people and Trasteveriui ! A
dreadful riot arose : de Basseville in vain sought
to save himself by taking shelter at his banker's;
he was pursued by the mob, and murdered. The
first stab was given by a soldier of the pontifical
guard. The French academy was next attacked
and pillaged ; the houses of foreigners were
plundered ; and, during the tumult, the virgin,
whose name was the mot d'ordre, was seen in
several of the churches to open her eyes (lest the
people should open theirs), and to give testimony
of the part she took in this crusade to her honor.
But if, in 1793, an emissary of the convention
was assassinated in Rome, in 1797 the Gauls of
the eighteenth century had passed the Rubicon,
conquered Romagna, the duchy of Urbino, and
tin Marsh of Ancona. The murder of general
Duphot at Rome, under the eyes of the accredited
ambassador of France, urged on the fate of the
' Niobe of Nations.* The military occupation of
Rome followed, and the proud capital of the
world became a French province, by the name
of the department of the Tiber !
Whatever reform, or feature of change, may
be found in the circles of Roman society, be-
longs almost exclusively to the Cittadini of the best
description, including persons of liberal profes-
sion, artists, some of the employes, and the mer-
canti di campagna, or gentlemen farmers or
agriculturists, whose landed property has grown
out of the sales of the church estates during the
Revolution ; and who, though chiefly resident at
Rome, live by the produce of their farms. If
something of cleanliness and order is visible in
a Roman menage, if stairs are found .lighted at
night, and rooms look not dirty by day, the
innovation on ancient manners is only to be
found in the dwellings of this respectable class.
ROM I
It is in this class also that what little social in-
uirse is kept up at Rome is most frequent.
It was this class that chiefly participated in the
lu'tiunts of the recent changes; and they look
back to the past with a regret in which personal
interests and self-love may have no inconsider-
able influence. While the Roman shopkeeper
(who lolls and lounges in his bulk all day, and
asks a price a capriccio for his French and British
wares), seeks his recreation at the pulicorda or
the comic opera ; while the inferior dealer knows
no enjoyment beyond stuffing, with twenty
others, into a hired calesh, on Sunday noons, and
driving through the hot and dirty streets, ' per
fare il pizzacarolo,' the cittadini have more re-
fined sources of recreation ; they hold a musical
academia in each other's houses, or assemble to
assist at a ' tragedia alia tavola' (the reading
round a table some favorite tragedy of Alfieri or
Monti) ; or, if the higher order, they attend the
conversazione of some mezza dama, or half lady;
a class of provincial nobility, who come from
the cities of La Marca, or the legations, to pass
the winter at Rome, and who, if permitted by
courtesy to visit a signora principessa, are never
presumed to be of her circle, nor admitted to
the house of such ambassadors as rightly under-
stand the true Roman ' dignita ! '
' Apart from the great mass of the population,
separated by the distinctions of ages, foul and
2 ROM
fatuous as an Indian fakeer, and sunk in th*
dusky niche of its splendid sty, vegetates the
Roman patrician, or prince of the empire ! The
morning is lounged away by the heir of the
Gregories and the Clements in a dusty t;reat
coat (the modern Roman toga), rarely changed at
any season of the day for a better garb. An
early, but not a princely dinner, follows ; suc-
ceeded by the siesta and the Corso, a funereal
drive in a long narrow street, relieved in sum-
mer by a splashy course in the Piazza Navona.
The prima sera is passed in some noble palace,
where, at the end of a long suite of unlighted
rooms, sits the signora principessa, twinkling
her eyes before a solitary lamp, or pair of can-
dles, whose glimmer is scarce visible in the
gloomy space, which a fire never cheers ; while
the caldanini, whose embers have expired in the
atmosphere of her petticoat, is presented to the
most distinguished of her visitors; and such a
conversation ensues as minds without activity or
resource may be supposed to supply : a sermon
of the popular preacher, Padre Pacifico, if it be
Lent ; a cecisbio faithless or betrayed, if at the
carnival, fill up the time till the opera com-
mences, or until the only two genuine Roman
houses open to society in Rome light up their
Rouge et noir tables, the sole object for which
company is received or for which company go.'
ROMFORD, a market town of Essex, si-
tuated on the road from London to Colchester ;
seventeen miles south-west of Chelmsford, and
twelve E. N. E. of London. This town is sup-
posed by Stukeley to occupy the site of the
Roman station Durolitum, and he conjectures
that its present name is a contraction for Roman-
ford, in which opinion he is supported by Mr.
Lethieullier. Lysons, however, derives it from
the Saxon words Rom and Ford (the Broad-
Ford), in allusion to an ancient ford over a
rivulet which flows past the western extremity
of the town. Romford is first mentioned in the
red book of the exchequer ; where it is said that,
in 1166, Roger Bigod, duke of Norfolk, held
' the wood of Romford by serjeancy, and pay-
ment of 5s. a-year.' It is next noticed in 1277,
at which time the manor formed part of the pos-
sessions of Adam de Cretingy. It afterwards
passed to Thomas de Brotherton, earl of Norfolk,
from whom it descended by marriage to the
Mowbrays, dukes of Norfolk ; but on the death
of John, the fourth duke, without male issue, in
1477, it became vested in James lord Berkeley.
The town of Romford consists chiefly of one
long street running along the high road. Near
the middle of the town stands the market-house
and town-hall which were repaired in 1768, at
the expense of the crown. The church, which is
a chapel of Hornchurch, is an ancient structure,
probably erected about the commencement of the
fifteenth century, when the inhabitants obtained
a bull from the pope, authorising them to con-
secrate a cemetery adjoining the town, for the
burial of their dead, who had previously been
carried to Ilornchurch burying-ground. It is
dedicated to the Virgin Mary and I '.d ward the
Confessor, and consists of a nave, chancel, and
north aisle, with a tower at the west end. In
the east window of the chancel is a whole length
on glass of Edward the Confessor. Not far from
the church is a charity-school for forty boys, and
another for twenty girls, founded and endowed
in 1728; and at a short distance from the western
end of the town are barracks for the accommo-
dation of a regiment of cavalry, erected in 1795.
Romford is governed by a bailiff and wardens,
who, though forming no corporation, are em-
powered by letters patent to hold a weekly court
for the trial of all causes, whether civil or cri-
minal, high treason itself not excepted. The
privilege of holding a weekly market was first
granted to the inhabitants by king Henry III.
To the westward, about two miles, lies Hainauh
Forest, in which is a very remarkable tree, called
Fairlop-oak, which Gilpin informs us, in his
Remarks on Forest Scenery, is traced by tra-
dition ' half way up the Christian era.' It is
thirty-six feet in girt near the base or root, and
spreads its branches over a circumference of
300 feet. Round the Fairlop-oak, on the first
Friday in July, is held an annual fair. Markets
on Monday for hogs, Tuesday for calves, sheep,
and lambs, and Wednesday for corn, cattle,
poultry, butchers' meat, &c.
ROMILLY (Sir Samuel), K. C., an eminent
modern chancery advocate, was the son of a jewel-
ler, of French extraction, who carried on business
in Frith Street, Soho. Here he was born, March
1st, 1757, and, receiving a private education,
was placed in the office of a solicitor, which he
quilted to study for the bar, to which he was
called in 1783. His chief practice was loner
confined to draughts in equity, but he gradually
ROM
33
RON
rose to distinction in court, and agreeing in his
general politics with the whigs, during the ad-
ministration of Mr. Fox and lord Grenville, he
was appointed solicitor-general. In parliament
he was highly distinguished by his talent in de-
bate, and particularly by the eloquence with
which he pleaded for a revision of the criminal
code, with a view to the limitation of capital
punishment. On this subject he also composed
a very able pamphlet. Sir Samuel also pub-
lished a remonstrance against the creation of
the office of vice-chancellor ; and was in the
height of his popularity, when a nervous disorder,
produced by grief at the death of his lady, seems
to have deprived him of reason, and in a fit of
temporary frenzy he terminated his existence,
November 2d, 1818.
ROMNEY, OLD, a Post town of Kent,
once a place of note, and a sea-port at the mouth
of the Rother, but the river having changed its
course to Rye, and the sea having receded, it
has long since fallen to decay. Here is an old
church in the massive circular style.
ROMNEY, NEW, a borough and market town
of Kent, seven miles south-west from Hithe, and
seventy-one and a half south-east from London.
This place, though not so ancient as Old Rom-
ney, is recorded to have been a flourishing town
at the time of the conquest, having had five pa-
rishes. The town consists chiefly of one broad,
well-paved street, intersected by another smaller
one. St. Nicholas' church is an ancient struc-
ture, consisting of three aisles and three chancels,
with a square tower at the western extremity.
The charitable institutions of the town are
an hospital and a school-house. The market-
house is a modern building, standing in the main
street. The chief trade of this place is grazing
cattle on Romney Marsh. This marsh is a rich
tract of land of about 50,000 acres, defended
from the encroachments of the sea, by an em-
bankment three miles in length, twenty feet high,
twenty feet broad at the top, and nearly 300 at the
bottom. Towards the sea it is defended by piles
and stakes, at an expense of about £4000 per
annum, which is raised by an assessment on the
proprietors of the marsh. This is called Dym-
church Wall, along which theie is a good road
for carriages. The corporation consists of a
mayor, twelve jurats, chamberlain, recorder,
town-clerk, &c., and is one of the cinque-ports,
though its harbour has long been destroyed; the
hall, where the courts of the Cinque-Ports are
held, is near the church. It sent two members
to parliament, the right of election being in the
mayor, but was enfranchised by the Reform bill
in 1832 Market-day, Thursday.
ROMNEY (George), a modern painter, was born
in Lancashire, in 1734. After an attempt of
his father to settle him in trade, he was placed
with an artist, and in 1762 came to London. In
1765 he gained a prize from the Society for the
Encouragement of Arts and Sciences, for a pic-
ture of the Death of King Kdmund, and in
1773 went to Italy for two years. On his return
he enjoyed the most uninterrupted success in his
profession, painting in one year portraits to the
aniount of ^£3635. He also gave illustrations
•a*' tioydeli's Shakspeare. Romnev died in 1802.
VOL. XIX.
He is not always happy in blending his shades
particularly in his back-grounds, but his style
of coloring is broad and simple, and in his flesh
he was very successful.
ROMP, n. s. FT. ramper. To gambol ; a
rude, boisterous, playful girl : to play rudely or
boisterously.
She was in the due mean between one of your af-
fected courtesy ing pieces of formality, and your
romps, that have no regard to the common rules of
civility. Arbuthnot.
In the kitchen, as in your proper element, you can
laugh, squall, and romp in full security. * Swift.
Romp loving miss
Is hauled about in gallantry robust. Thomson.
Men presume on the liberties taken in romping.
Clarissa.
ROMSEY, or RUMSEY, a market town and
parish of Hampshire, eight miles N.N.W. of
Southampton, and seventy-four west by south of
London. It is situated on the little river Test,
which falls into Southampton Bay, and was for-
merly noted for its monastery of Benedictines,
founded by king Edgar, and of which the daugh-
ter of king Stephen was an abbess. The church,
formerly belonging to the monastery, is a noble
edifice, built in the form of a cross, and arched
with stone in the Saxon style ; it contains several
curious monuments. Besides the church, there
is a meeting house for Presbyterians ; an alms-
house for six widows ; a charity-school, and a
free-school. There is also a town-hall, and an
audit-house, below which are accommodations
for the market people. The corporation consists
of a mayor, recorder, six aldermen, and twelve
capital burgesses. The principal trade of the
town is in shalloons, sacking, and paper, and it
has been noted for the excellence of its ale.
The market, on Satu rday, is a good com market.
ROMULUS, the son of Rhea Silvia, the
founder and first king of Rome. See ROME.
On a medal of Antoninus Pius, he appears like
Mars Gradivus, with a spear in one hand, and a
trophy on the opposite shoulder. It is very pro-
bable that several of the supposed figures of
Mars, with a trophy so placed, belong rather to
Romulus, who was the inventor of trophies
among the Romans.
The whole story of the birth of this hero is
represented in a relievo at the villa Mellini in
Rome. It is divided into four compartments.
In the first Mars is going to Rhea as she sleeps
by the Tiber. In the second she is sitting with
her twins in her lap, whilst Amulius seems to
be upbraiding her. In the third the two infants,
Romulus and Remus, are exposed on the banks
of the river ; and the fourth represents them as
cherished by the wolf, whilst Faustulus stands
surprised at their strange situation. This work
is but indifferent ; however, the particulars of it
are to be met with in other works of better ages.
The descent of Mars to Rhea is not uncommon ;
and the circumstance of Romulus and Remus
being suckled by the wolf is very common on
medals, gems, and statues.
RONALDSEY, NORTH, the most northern
isl.md of Orkney, two miles long, and one
1'ioiid ; six miles north of Sanely. The smfice
is run, the soil sand, and clay. The coasts af-
l)
RON
34
ROO
ford sea waic, from wliicli many tons of kelp are
made annually.
RONALDSEY, SOUTH, tiie most southern island
of Orkney, about six miles long, and three
broad; bounded by the German Ocean on the
east, by the Pentland Frith on the south and
west, and by the Ferry of Water Sound, which
separates it from Burray,on the north. The cli-
mate is excellent ; the surface is pnetty level ; the
soil various, but fertile. It has several good
harbours, which will admit ships of 600 tons, as
Widevvall Bay on the west, and St. Margaret's
Hope on the north. It is much frequented by
lobster smacks. This island has three head-
lands ; viz. Barsick, Halero, and Stoic's Head.
RONCESVALLES, a valley in the province ot
Navarre, Spain, between Fampeluna and St. Jean
Pied du Port, surrounded by mountains, one of
which, the Ronceval, is among the highest of the
Pyrenees. This valley is celebrated for the defeat
of Charlemagne by Loup, duke of Gasoony,
assisted by the Saracens. A pillar erected on
the spot, in commemoration of the victory, was
destroyed by the French in 1794. The small
town of this name is fourteen miles N. N. E. of
Pampeluna.
RONDA, a large but uninteresting town of
Granada, Spain, except in respect to its situa-
tion. This is most romantic, arid its natural
curiosities are not few. It stands on the summit
of a rocky mountain, divided by a deep ravine
or fissure, which winds around the town, the
river rushing along its bottom. This ravine is
full of abrupt cliffs and crags, lightly covered
with earth : over the fissure there are two bridges,
each of a single arch : one is at the height of 1 20
feet above the water, the other at that of 280
feet! This arch is 110 feet in span, and sup-
ported by pillars of masonry from the bottom of
the river. Seen from this elevation, the Gua-
diaro is dwindled to a brook. Hardly any scene
can he more striking than the view from below
this bridge, of part of the houses and spires of
the town, which seem to overhang the spectator.
The public walk is paved with marble, and bor-
dered with vine branches in trellises, which in
hot weather afford an agreeable shade. Leather,
and silk stuffs are manufactured here, and the
environs are well cultivated, and fertile in corn,
wine, and oil. Inhabitants 20,000. The plain
abounds in cattle, and the hills in game. The
Sierra de Honda, a chain of mountains which
takes its name from this town, is of considerable
height, and extends all the way to Gibraltar.
About a league south-east of the town is the
Cresta de Gallo, so called from the supposed
resemblance to a cock's comb. It is frequently
the first land discerned at sea, on approaching
Cadiz, and contains mines of iron, tin, and lead.
RONDELETIA, in botany, a genus of the
raonogynia order, and pentandria class of plants ;
COR. funnel-shaped : CAPS, bilocular, inferior,
and polyspermous, roundish, and crowned. Spe-
cies eleven, natives of the West Indies.
RONDE, RHONDE ISLAND, or REDONDA, one
of the Grenadines, or dependencies of the
island of Grenada, in the West Indies ; situate
about mid-way between Cariacou or Cariovacou,
and the north end of Grenada, about six miles
north of Grenada, .and eleven south-west of
t'uriovacou. It contains about 500 acres of land
applied to pasturage, and the cultivation of cot-
ton. Lon?. 61° 39' W., lat. 12° 19' N.
RON'DLE, n. s. From round. A round mass.
RONDO (Italian), or Rondeau (French ) A
musical composition consisting of three stiains ;
the first closing in the original key, while each
of the others gradually conducts the ear in a
natural easy manner back to the first strain.
The term Rondo, or going round, implies that
the melody goes round after the second and third
strain to the first, with which it concludes.
RON'ION, n. s. Fr. rognon, the loins. A
fat bulky woman.
Give me, quoth I ;
Aroint thee, witch, the rump fed ronyon cries.
Shakspeare.
RONSARD (Peter) de, a French poet, born
in Vendomois, in 1524. He was descended of
a noble family, and was educated in Paris in
the college of Navarre. He then became page
to the duke of Orleans, and afterwards to king
James V. Ronsard continued in Scotland with
king James upwards of two years, and afterwards
went to France, where he was employed by the
duke of Orleans in several negociations. He
accompanied Lazarus de Baif to the diet of
Spires, and studied the Greek language with his
son under Dorat. He cultivated poetry with
such success that he acquired the appellation of
the Prince of the Poets of his time. Henry II.,
Francis II., Charles IX., and Henry III. loaded
him with favors. Having gained the first prize
of the Jeux Floraux, the city of Thoulouse
caused a Minerva of massy silver of consider-
able value to be made and sent to him. This
present was accompanied with a decree declar-
ing him The French Poet, by way of distinction.
Ronsard afterwards made a present of his Mi-
nerva to Henry II. Mary queen of Scots gave
him a very rich set of table plate. He wrote
hymns, odes, a poem called the Franciad, ec-
logues, epigrams, sonnets, &c. Ronsard, though
it is doubtful whether he ever was in orders,
held several benefices in commendam ; and he
died at one of these, Saint-Cosme-les-Tours, in
LOSS, being then sixty-one years of age. Ron-
sard's poems appeared in Paris in 1567, in six
vols., 4to., and in 1604, in ten vols,, 12mo.
RONT, or { Goth, rian nant. An animal
RUNT, n.s. $ stinted in the growth.
My ragged rants all shiver and shake,
As done high towers in an earthquake ;
They wont in the wind, wag their wriggle tails,
Peark as a peacock, but nought it avails.
Spenser.
ROOD, n. s. From rod. the fourth part of
an acre in square measure.
I've often wished that I had clear,
For life, six hundred pounds a-year,
A terras-walk, and half a rood
Of land, set out to plant a wood. Swift.
No stately larch-tree there expands a shade
O'er half a rood of Lariss6an glade. Harte.
ROOD, n. s. Sax. jio&e; Goth. roda. The
cross; sometimes an image of a saint.
By the holy rood,
1 do not like these several councils.
ROOFS.
35
ROOF, ;i. s.& v. a. > Sax. hjiop ; Goth. reef.
ROOI'Y, adj. \ In the plural Sidney has
rooves : now obsolete. The cover of a house ;
any covering : to cover with a roof.
Her shoulders be like two white doves,
Perching within square royal rooves. Sidney.
From the magnanimity of the Jews, in causes of
most extreme hazard, those strange and unwonted
resolutions have grown, which, for all circumstances,
no people under the roof of heaven did ever match.
Hooker.
Return to her, and fifty men dismissed !
No, rather I abjure all roof*, and chuse
To wage against the enmity o' the' air. Shakspeare.
Swearing till my very roc/" was dry
With oaths of love. Id. Merchant of Venice.
Here had we now our country's honour roofed,
Were the graced person of our Banquo present.
Shakspeare.
Some fishes have rows of teeth in the roofs of their
mouths; as pike, salmons, and trouts.
Bacon's Natural History. .
I'll tell all strictly true,
If time, and foode, and wine enough accrue
Within your roofe to us ; that freely we
May sit and banquet. Chapman.
Large foundations may be safely laid ;
Or houses roofed, if friendly planets aid. Creech.
He entered soon the shade
High rooft, and walks beneath, and alleys brown.
Milton.
In thy fane, the dusty spoils among,
High on the burnished root', thy banner shall be hung.
Dry den.
Snakes.
Whether to roo/y houses they repair,
Or sun themselves abroad in open air,
In all abodes of pestilential kind
To sheep. Id. Georgickt.
I have not seen the remains of any Roman build-
ings that have not been roofed with vaults or arches.
Addison.
A ROOF is the covering of a building, by which
its inhabitants or contents are protected from the
injuries of the weather. It is the essential part
of a house, and is often used to express the
whole. To come under a person's roof is to
enjoy his protection and society, to dwell with
him. Tectum was used in the same sense by
the Romans. To be within our walls rather ex-
presses the being in our possession : a roof
therefore is not only an essential part of a
house, but it even seems to be its characteristic
feature. See ARCHITECTURE & CARPENTRY.
The Greeks, who have perhaps excelled all
nations in taste, and who have given the most
perfect model of architectonic ordonnance with-
in a certain limit, never erected a building which
did not exhibit this part in the most distinct
manner ; and though they borrowed much of
their model from the orientals, as is evident to
any who compares their architecture with the
ruins of Persepolis, and of the tombs in the
mountains of Sciraz, they added that form of
roof which their own climate taught them was
necessary for sheltering them from the rains.
The roofs in Persia and Arabia are flat, but tbose
of Greece are without exception sloping. It
seems therefore a gross violation of the true
principles of taste in architecture (at least in
the regions of Europe), to take away or to hide
the roof of a house ; and it must be ascribed
to that rage for novelty which is so powerful in
the minds of the rich. Our ancestors seemed to
be of a very different opinion, and turned their
attention to the ornamenting of their roofs as
much as any other part of a building. T'iey
showed them in the most conspicuous manner,
running them up to a great height, broke them
into a thousand fanciful shapes, and stuck them
full of highly dressed windows. We laugh at
this, and call it Gothic and clumsy ; and our
great architects, not to offend any more in this
way, conceal the roof altogether by parapets,
balustrades, and other contrivances. Our
forefathers certainly did offend against the
maxims of true taste, when they enriched a part
of a house with marks of elegant habitation,
which every spectator must know to be a cum-
bersome garret : but their successors no less
ofiVnd, who take off the cover of the house alto-
gether, ana make it impossible to know whether
it is not a mere skreen or colonnade. The
architect is anxious to present a fine object,
and a very simple outline discusses all his con-
cerns with the roof. He leaves it to the car-
penter, whom he frequently puzzles (by his
arrangements) with coverings almost impossible
to execute. Indeed it is seldom that the idea of
i roof is admitted by him into his great compo-
sitions. A pediment is often stuck up in the
middle of a grand front, in a situation where a
roof cannot perform its office ; for the rain which
is supposed to flow down its sides must be re-
ceived on the top of the level buildings which
flank it. This is a manifest incongruity. The
tops of dressed windows, trifling porches, and
sometimes a projecting portico, are the only
situations in which we see the figure of a roof
correspond with its office. Having thus lost
sight of the principle, it is not surprising that
the draughtsman (for he should not be called
architect) runs into every whim : and we see
pediment within pediment, a round pediment, a
hollow pediment, and, the greatest of all absurdi-
ties, a broken pediment, which is as ridiculous
as a hat without its crown. But, when one
builds a house, ornament alone will not do. Wf
must have a cover ; and the enormous expense
and other inconveniences which attend the con-
cealment of this cover by parapets, balustrades,
and screens, have obliged architects to consider
the pent roof as proper, and to regulate its form.
A high pitched roof will undoubtedly shoot off
the rains and snows better than one of a lower
pitch. The wind will not so easily blow the
dropping rain in between the slates, nor will it
have so much power to strip them off. It will
exert a smaller thrust on the walls, both because
its strain is less horizontal, and because it will
admit of lighter covering. But it is more ex-
pensive, because there is more of it. It requires
a greater size of timber to make it equally strong,
and it exposes a greater surface to the wind.
There have been great changes in the pitch
of roofs : our forefathers made them very high,
and we make them very low. It does not, however,
appear that this change has been altogether
the effect of principle. In the simple un-
adorned habitations of private persons, every
thing comes to be adjusted by an expen-
D 2
ROOFS.
encc of Inconveniences which have resulted from
too low pitched roofs ; and their pitch will
always be nearly such as suits the climate and
covering. Our architects, however, go to work
on different principles. Their professed aim is
to make a beautiful object. The sources of the
pleasures arising from what we call taste are so
various, so complicated, and so whimsical, that
it is almost in vain to look for principle in the
rules adopted by our professed architects. Much
of their practice results from a pedantic venera-
tion for the beautiful productions of Grecian
architecture. Such architects as have written on
the principles of the art in respect of proportions,
or what they call the ordonnance, are much
puzzled to make a chain of reasoning ; and the
most that they have made of the Greek architec-
ture is, that it exhibits a nice adjustment of
strength and strain. But, when we consider the
extent of this adjustment, we find that it is
wonderfully limited. The whole of it consists
of a basement, a column, and an entablature ;
the entablature exhibits .something of a connexion
with the frame-work and roof of a wooden
building; and it originated from this in the
hands of the orientals, from whom the Greeks
borrowed their forms and their combinations.
We could easily show in the ruins of Persepolis,
and among the tombs in the mountains (which
were Ion:: prior to the Greek architecture), the
fluted column, the base, the Ionic and Corinthian
capital, and the Doric arrangement of lintels,
beams, and rafters, all derived from unquestion-
able principle. The only addition made by tlie
Greeks was the pent roof; and the changes made
by them in the subordinate forms of things are
such as might be expected from the exquisite
judgment of beauty. But the whole of this is
very limited ; and the Greeks, after making the
roof a chief feature of a house, went no further,
and contented themselves with giving it a slope
suited to their climate. This we have followed,
because in the milder parts of Europe we have
no cogent reason for deviating from it ; and if
any architect should deviate greatly, in a build-
ing where the outline is exhibited as beautiful,
we should be disgusted : but the disgust, though
felt by almost every spectator, has its origin in
nothing but habit. In the professed architect or
man of education the disgust arises from pedantry ;
for there is not such a close connexion between
the form and uses of a roof as shall give precise
determinations ; and the mere form is a matter
of indifference. We should not therefore repro-
bate the high-pitched roofs of our ancestors, par-
ticularly on the continent. It is there where we
see them in all the extremity of the fashion, and
the taste is by no means exploded as it is with us.
A baronial castle in Germany and France is sel-
dom rebuilt in the pure Greek style, or even like
the modern houses in Britain ; the high pitched
roofs are retained. We should not call them
Gothic, and ugly because Gothic, till we show
iheir principle to be false or tasteless. It will be
found quite the reverse ; and that, though we can-
not bring ourselves to think them beautiful, we
ought to think them so. The construction of the
Greek architecture is a transference of the prac-
tices that are rtecessary in a wooden building to a
building of stone. To this the Greeks have
adhered, in spite of innumerable difficulties.
Their marble quarries, however, put it in their
power to retain the proportions which habit had
rendered agreeable. But it is next to impossible
to adhere to these proportions with free-stone or
brick, when the order is of magnificent dimen-
sions. Sir Christopher Wren saw this ; for his
mechanical genius was equal to his taste. He
composed the front of St. Paul's church in Lon-
don of two orders, and he coupled his columns ;
and still the lintels which form the architrave
are of such length that they could carry no ad-
ditional weight, and he was obliged to truss them
behind. Had he made but one order, the archi-
trave could not have carried its own weight. It
is impossible to execute a Doric entablature of
this size in brick. It is attempted in a very no-
ble front, the Academy of Arts in St. Petersburg!).
But the architect was obliged to make the mu-
tules and other projecting members of the cor-
niche of granite, and many of them broke down
by their own weight. Here is surely an error
in principle. Since stone is the chief material of
our buildings, ought not the members of orna-
mented architecture to be refinements on the
essential and unaffected parts of a simple stone
building ? There is almost as much propriety
in the architecture of India, where a dome is
made in imitation of a lily or of some other
flower inverted, as in the Greek imitation of a
wooden building. The principles of masonry,
and not of carpentry, should be seen in our
architecture, if we would have it according to
the rules of just taste. Now this is the charac-
teristic feature of what is called the Gothic archi-
tecture. In this no dependence is had on the
transverse strength of stone. No lintels are to
be seen ; no extravagant projections. Every
stone is pressed to its neighbours, and none is
exposed to a trassverse strain. The Greeks were
enabled to execute their colossal buildings only
by using immense blocks of the hardest materials.
The Norraan mason could raise a building to
the skies without using a stone which a laborer
could not carry to the top on his back. The
architects studied the principles of equilibrium ;
and, having attained a wonderful knowledge of it,
they indulged themselves in exhibiting remark-
able instances. \Ve call this false taste, and
say that the appearance of insecurity is the
greatest fault. But this is owing to our habits;
our thoughts may be said to run in a wooden
train, and certain simple maxims of carpentry
are familiar to our imagination ; and in the
careful adherence to these consists the beauty
and symmetry of the Greek architecture. Had
we been as much habituated to the equilibrium
of pressure, this apparent insecurity would not
have met our eye : we should have observed the
strength, and we should have relished the inge-
nuity. The Gothic architecture is perhaps en-
titled to the name of rational architecture, and its
beauty is founded on the characteristic distinc-
tion of our species. It deserves cultivation ; not
the pitiful, servile, and unskilled copying of the
monuments; this will produce incongruities and
absurdities equal to any that have crept into the
Greek architecture; but let us examine with
ROOFS.
37
attention the nice disposition of the groins and
spandrels ; let us study the tracery and knots,
not as ornaments, but as useful members; let us
observe how they have made their walls like
honey-combs, and admire their ingenuity as we
pretend to admire the instinct infused by the
Great Architect into the bee. All this cannot be
understood without mechanical knowledge ; a
thing which few of our professional architects
have any share of. Thus would architectonic
taste be a mark of skill ; and the person who
presents the design of a building would know how
to execute it without committing it entirely to
the mason and carpenter. The same principles
of mutual pressure and equilibrium have a place
in roofs and many wooden edifices ; and if they
had been as much studied as the Normans and
Saracens seem to have studied such of them
as were applicable to their purposes, we might
have produced wooden buildings as far superior
to what we are familiarly acquainted with, as the
bold and wonderful churches still remaining in
Europe are still superior to the timid productions
of our stone architecture. The centres used in
building the bridge of Orleans and the corn-
market of Paris are instances of what may be
done in this way. The last-mentioned is a dome
of 200 feet diameter, built of fir planks; and
there is not a piece of timber in it more than nine
feet long, a foot broad, and three inches thick.
The Norman architects frequently roofed with
stone. Their wooden roofs were in general very
simple, and their professed aim was to dispense
witli them altogether. Fond of their own science,
they copied nothing from a wooden building, and
ran into a similar fault with the ancient Greeks.
The parts of their buildings which were necessa-
rily of timber, were made to imitate stone-build-
ings ; and Gothic ornament consists in cramming
every thing full of arches and spandrels. Nothing
else is to be seen in their timber works, nay even
in their sculpture. Look at any of the maces or
sceptres still to be found about the old cathedrals ;
they are all silver steeples. But there appears
to have been a rivalship in old times between
the masons and the carpenters. Many of the
baronial halls are of prodigious width, and are
roofed with timber : and the carpenters appeared
to have borrowed much knowledge from the
masons of those times, and their wide roofs are
frequently constructed with great ingenuity.
Their aim, like the masons, was to throw a roof
over a very wide builaing without employing
great logs of timber. We have seen roofs sixty
feet wide without having a piece of timber in
them above ten feet long and four inches square.
They are very numerous on the continent. Indeed
Britain retains few monuments of private mag-
nificence. Aristocratic state never was so great
with us ; and the rancor of our civil wars gave
most of the performances of the carpenter to the
flames. Westminster Hall exhibits a specimen
of the false taste of the Norman roofs. It con-
tains the essential parts indeed, very properly
disposed ; but they are hidden, or intentionally
covered, with n'hat is conceived to be ornamen-
tal; and this is an imitation of stone arches,
crammed in bet veen Siender pillars, which hang
down from the principal frames, trusses, or
rafters. In a pure Norman roof, such as Tarna-
way Hall, the essential parts are exhibited as
things understood, and therefore relished. They
are refined and ornamented ; and it is here that
the inferior kind of taste, or the want of it, may
appear. We do not mean to defend all the
whims of our ancestors, but we assert that it is
no more necessary to consider the members of a
roof as things to be concealed like a garret or
privy, than the members of a ceiling, which
form the most beautiful part of the Greek archi-
tecture. Should it be said that a roof is only a
thing to keep off the rain, it may be answered,
that a ceijing is only to keep oft' th^ dust, or the
floor to be trodden under foot, and that we
should have neither compartments in the one, nor
inlaid work or carpets on the other. The struc-
ture of a roof may therefore be exhibited with
propriety, and made an ornamental feature.
This has been done even in Italy. The church
of St. Maria Maagiore in Rome, and several
others, are specimens ; but the forms of the
principal frames of these roofs, which resemble
those of our modern buildings, are very unfit for
agreeable ornament. Our imaginations have not
been made sufficiently familiar with the princi-
ples, and we are rather alarmed than pleased
with the appearance of the immense logs of tim-
bei which form the couples of these roofs, and
hang over our heads with eve»y appearance of
weight and danger. It is quite otherwise with
the ingenious roofs of the German and Norman
architects. Slender timbers, interlaced with great
symmetry, and thrown by necessity into figures
which are naturally pretty, form altogether an
object which no carpenter can view without
pleasure. And why should the gentleman refuse
himself the same pleasure of beholding scientific
ingenuity? The roof is in fact the part of the
building which requires the greatest degree of
skill, and where science will be of more service
than in any other part. The architect seldom
knows much of the matter, and leaves the task
to the carpenter. The carpenter considers the
framing of a great roof as the touchstone of his
art ; and nothing indeed tends so much to show
his judgment and his fertility of resource. It
must therefore be very acceptable to the artist
to have a clear view of the principles by which
this difficult problem may be solved in the best
manner, so that the roof may have all the strength
and security that can be wished for, without an
extravagant expense of timber and iron. Me-
chanical science can give great assistance in this
matter. The framing of carpentry, whether for
roofs, floors, or any other purpose, affords one of
the most elegant and most satisfactory applica-
tions which can be made of mechanical science
to the arts of common life. But the practical
artist is seldom possessed even of the small por-
tion of science which would almost insure his
practice from all risk of failure ; and even our
most experienced carpenters Jiave seldom any
more knowledge than what arises from tneir ex-
perienc* and natural sagacity. The most ap-
proved author in our language is Price, in his
British Carpenter. Mathurin Jousse is in like
manner the author most in repute in France :
and the puM'oations of both these authors are
38
ROOF S.
void of every appearance of principle. It is not
uncommon to see the works of carpenters of the
greatest reputation tumble down, in consequence
of mistakes from which elementary knowledge
would have saved them. See ARCHITECTURE.
In the .Middlesex Report on Architecture, it
is observed, in speaking of the roofs of houses,
that pantiles are so easily heated through by the
sun, during the summer months, that the rooms
underneath are as hot as an oven ; while, in the
winter season, in every common frost, these tiles
are so completely frozen through as to become
as cold as a covering of ice. These extremes
must consequently have a very bad effect on the
health of the inhabitants. The blue slates are so
very thin as to be equally liable to the same
objection, particularly as they are now laid on
most of our fashionable houses, under Wyatt's
patent. They are rather better when laid on in
the common manner, that is, on double laths,
but much better on boards. Plain tiles make a
considerably more temperate covering for houses
than either pantiles or slates, by reason of their
being laid double and in mortar, and thereby
forming a much thicker and closer roof. In this
they are nearly equalled by the thick or stone
slating of the midland counties; they might also
be glazed of a slate color ; in which case they
would make a roof more hancwome, temperate,
and durable, than any other covering material
now known.
Other substances have been had recourse to
with this intention. In different parts of the
country, cements of various kinds, and coarse
paper laid over with resin, tar, &c., and other
similar matters, have been tried, but with no very
promising success as to their application. In
some parts of Devonshire, though slate is by no
means difficult to be procured, a substitute for
that sort of covering is, Mr. Vancouver asserts,
getting very much into use, which is prepared
in the following manner : — Three parts of whit-
ing, five of sand, one of pounded charcoal, and
one of bone-ashes, to a barrel of common tar, to
which are added four pounds of black resin ; the
two last materials are to be melted together, and,
when boiling, the other ingredients are to be
added in small quantities, keeping them con-
stantly stirred and in motion over the fire, until the
whole mass becomes of a consistence fit for use.
Then the roof, being previously covered over
with sheathing-paper securely nailed dowp, is to
be carefully and evenly spread with the liquid
hot from the copper, to the thickness of about
three-quarters of an inch; which will cost, at
the cauldron, about thirty-five shillings for each
square of ten feet. The same measure of the
common slate roof will cost about thirty-two
shillings. The roofs for this sort of composition
are pitched very flat, and, from the lightness of
the scantling which is necessary in their con-
struction, come considerably cheaper than those
required for carrying slate or tiles. Materials
of the reed and heath kinds have also been tried
as coverings for the roofs of farm-houses and
cottages, in places where they are capable of
being procured in sufficient quantities for such
purposes ; and, though they are considerably
more durable than common straw thatch, they
are subject to all the inconveniencies and ob-
jections of that sort of covering.
Thatch was formerly in general use for cover-
ing the roofs of all farm-buildings ; but it is ob-
jectionable on many accounts, particularly as a
hid;ng-place for insects, birds, and vermin ; and
as extremely perishable in its nature, subject to
be much damaged by high winds, and of course
liable to frequent repairs; and, above all, hishly
dangerous from its combustible nature. But
Mr. Middleton thinks that it keeps out the sum-
mer's heat and winter's cold more effectually
than any other material now in use ; while, as
it is not quite 'so compact and sightly as slates
or tiles, and the straw being of such value for
other purposes, it will probably be superseded
by them. Tiles, though little exposed to danger
from fire, do not, by any means, constitute a
good roof, being ill calculated for preserving
grain or other farm produce. In summer, they
admit a heat very unfriendly to hay, corn, or
straw ; while, in winter, they are equally objec-
tionable, on the ground of transmitting moisture
in a high degree, while slates, though more ex-
pensi»e at first, are liable to none of these objec-
tions, especially when of the more thick kind.
A roof covered with them, therefore, answers
every useful purpose, and is very durable. Tor
the construction of modern roofs, generally, see
our article ARCHITECTURE, and more on the
subject of farm-buildings under RURAL ARCHI-
TECTURE.
ROOK, n. s. & v. n. ~\ Sax. pnoc ; Goth. rack.
ROOK'ERY, > A bird resemblinga crow.
ROOK'Y, adj. j and feeding on grain ;
hence a robber or cheat : also a common man of
chess : rookery is a nursery of rooks : rooky, in-
habited by rooks.
Augurs, that understood relations, have,
By magpies, and by choughs, and rooks, brought forth
The secretest man of blood. Shakspeare. Macbeth.
Light thickens, and the crow
Makes wing to the rooky wood. Shuhspeare.
They rooked upon us with design,
To out-reform and undermine. Hudibras.
Huge flocks of rising rook* forsake their food,
And, crying, seek the shelter of the wood. Dryttr*.
So have I seen a knight at chess,
His rooks and knights withdrawn,
His queen and bishops in distress,
Shifting about grow less and less.
With here and there a pawn. Id. Songs.
How any one's being put into a mixed herd of un-
ruly boys, and there learning to rouk at span-farthing,
fits him for conversation, I do not see.
Locke on Kdiicati'ii.
I am, like an old rook, who is ruined by gaming,
forced to live on the good fortune of the pushing
young men. Wueherleii.
No lone house in Wales, with a mountain and a
rookery, is more contemplative than this court.
Pope.
The jay, the rook, the daw.
Aid the full concert. Thomson's Spring.
ROOK, in ornithology. See CORVUS. Rooks
are very destructive of corn, especially of wheat.
They search out the lands where it is sown,
and watching them more carefully than the
owners, they perceive when the seed first 1
to shoot up its blade ; and, as soon a<
h\M\-. them directed t.
ROO
p'.7.ces where the grains lie ; and in three or four
days they will root up such vast quantities that
a good crop is often thus destroyed in embryo.
After a few days, the wheat continuing to jrrow,
its blades appear green above ground ; and then
the time of danger from these birds is over : for
then the seeds are so far robbed ot their mealy
matter that they are of no value to that bird.
The farmers, to drive away these mischievous
birds, dig holes in the ground, and stick up the
feathers of rooks in them, and hang up dead
rooks on sticks in several parts of the fields ;
but all this is of little use, for the living rooks
will tear up the ground about the leathers, and
under the dead ones to steal the seeds. The
best remedy is, to watch well the time of the
corn being in the condition in which they feed
upon it ; and as this lasts only a few days, a boy
should constantly watch the field from day-break
till the dusk of the evening. Every time they
settle upon the ground the boy should holloa,
and throw up a dead rook into the air : this will
always make them rise, and they will soon be so
tired of this constant disturbance that they will
seek out other places of preying, and will leave
the ground even before the corn becomes unfit
for them. The reason of their rising at the
tossing up of the dead bird is, that they are
extremely apprehensive of danger, and are al-
v ays alarmed when one of them rises, and all
fly off at the signal.
ROOKE (Lawrence), an eminent English
astronomer, born at Deptford in Kent, in 1623 ;
and educated at King's College, Cambridge, and
at Oxford. In 1652 he was appointed Gresham
professor of astronomy; and was also one of the
founders of the Royal Society. He wrote as-
tronomical tracts. He died in 1662.
ROOKE (Sir George), a naval commander, de-
scended of an ancient and honorable family ir»
Kent, was born in 1650. His merit raised him
to be vice-admiral of the blue; in which station
he served in the battle of La Hogue May 1692,
and the next day he obtained still more glory by
going into La llogue, and burning the enemy's
fleet, which he completely destroyed, together
with most of the transports and ammunition
vessels ; and this under the fire of all the French
batteries, and in sight of all the French and Irish
troops ; yet this bold action cost the lives of
only ten men. The vice-admiral's behaviour on
this occasion so pleased king V> illiam that,
having no opportunity at that time of promoting
him, he settled a pension of £1000 per annum
on him for life ; and afterwards, going to Ports-
mouth to view the fleet, went on board Rooke's
ship, dined with him, and then conferred on
him the honor of knighthood, he having a little
before made him vice-admiral of the red. In
consequence of other services he was in 1694
raised to the rank of admiral of the blue ; to-
wards the close of the next year he was made
admiral of the white; and was also appointed
admiral and commander-in-chief in the Mediter-
ranean. During king William's reign, Sir
George was twice elected M. P. for Portsmouth;
and upon the accession of queen Anne, in 1702,
he was constituted vice-admiral and lieutenant
of the admiralty of England, as also lieutenant
39 ROO
of the fleets and seas of this kingdom. Upon
the declaration of war against France, he was
ordered to command a fleet sent against Cadiz,
the duke of Ormond having the command of
the land forces. On his passage home, receiving
an account that the galleons, under the escort
of a strong French squadron, were in the har-
bour of Vigo, he resolved to attack them : and
on the llth October came before the harbour of
Kondondello, which the French commander had
put into the best posture of defence. But, not-
withstanding this, a detachment of fifteen En°--
hsh and ten Dutch ships of the line, with all the
fire-ships were ordered in, and the army landed
near Rondondello. The whole service was per-
formed under Sir George's directions ; all the
ships were destroyed or taken, prodigious
damage was done to the enemy, and great wealth
acquired by the allies. For this action Sir
George received the thanks of the house of
commons, a day of thanksgiving was appointed
both by the queen and the states general, and
Sir George was promoted to a seat in the privy-
council ; yet, notwithstanding this, the house of
lords resolved to enquire into his conduct at
Cadiz. But he so fully justified himself that a
vote was passed, approving his behaviour. In
spring 1704 Sir George commanded the ships of
war which conveyed king Charles III. of Spain
to Lisbon. In July he attacked Gibraltar;
when, by the bravery of the English seamen,
the place was taken on the 24th, though the
town was extremely strong, and well furnished
with ammunition. The capture of this place
was conceived and executed in less than a week,
yet was then very little thought of; though it has
since endured sieges of many months' continu-
ance, and more than once baffled the united
forces of France and Spain. Sir George soon
after retired to his seat in Kea£ He was thrice
married ; and by his second lady left one son.
He died in 1709 in his fifty-eighth year, and
was buried in Canterbury cathedral, where a
monument is erected to his memory.
ROOM, n.s. } Sax. nutn ; Goth. rum. Space;
ROOM'AGE, ^ extent of place great or small ;
ROO'MY, adj. t unoccupied space; way : room-
age is an obsolete synonyme.
In evils that cannot be removed without the mani-
fest danger of greater to succeed in their room, wis-
dom, of necessity, must give place to necessity.
Hooker.
Make room, and let him stand before our face.
Shaktpeare.
If you will have a young man to put his travels in
a little room, and in short time gather much, this he
must do. Bacon.
Man, of all sensible creatures, has the fullest brain
to his proportion, for the lodging of the intellective
faculties : it must be a silent character of hope, when
there is good store of roomagc and receipt where those
powers are stowed. Wotton.
If when she appears in the room,
Thou dost not quake, and art struck dumb,
Know this,
Thou lovest amiss ;
And, to love true,
Thou must begin again, and love anew. Suckling
40
ROO
What train of servants, what extent of field,
Shall aid the birth, or give him room to build?
Creech.
With new wonder now he views,
To all delight of human sense exposed
In narrow room, nature's whole wealth. Milton.
For better ends our kind Redeemer died,
Or the fallen angels rooms will be but ill supplied.
Roscommon.
In a prince's court, the only question a man is to
ask is, whether it be the custom of the court, or will
of the prince, to be uncovered in some rooms and not
in others'? Still ing fleet.
With roomy decks, her guns of mighty strength,
Deep in her draught, and warlike in her length.
Dry den.
This paternal regal power, being by divine right,
leaves no room for human prudence to place it any
where. Locke.
When this princess was in her father's court, she
was so celebrated that there was no prince in the
empire, who had room for such an alliance, that was
not ambitious of gaining her into his family.
Atldison's Freeholder.
t puts us upon so eager a pursuit of the advan-
tages of life, as leaves no mum to reflect on the greaf
author of them. Atterbury.
By contributing to the contentment of other men,
and rendering them as happy as lies in our power,
we do God's work, are in his place ana room.
Calamu's Sermon*.
The dry land is much too big for its inhabitants ;
and that before they shall want room by encreasing
and multiplying, there may be new heavens and a
new eartli lientley.
It will afford me a few pleasant room*, for such a
friend as yourself. Pope.
Will you not look with pity on me 1
Is there no hope 1 is there no room for pardon 1
A. Philips.
ROOME (Edward), an English writer, the
son of an undertaker in Fleet Street. He was
bred to the law, and became a violent party
writer. He wrote some papers entitled Pasquin,
wherein he offended Mr. Pope, who placed him
in the Dunciad. lie succeeded Mr. Hornecks,
as solicitor to the treasury, October 18th 1728,
and died December 10th 1729. His Jovial
Crew was first acted in 1731.
ROOS (John Hendrick), a Dutch painter,
born at Orteburgh in 1631. His landscapes
have uncommon beauty. He also painted port-
raits. He died in 1685.
Roos (Philip), his son, was born in 1665, and
excelled his father greatly. His brother, John
Mclchior, was also eminent in painting, and died
in 1731, aged seventy-two
ROOST, n. s. & v. n. Sax. pru>rr. That on
which a bird sits to sleep ; the act of sleeping ;
to sleep as a bird ; lodge.
Sooner than the mattin-bell was rung,
He clapped his wings upon his roost and sung.
Dryden.
A fox spied out a cock at roost upon a tree.
L'Ettranee.
The cock roasted at night upon the boughs. Id.
Large and strong muscles move the wings, and
support the body at roott. Derham'i Phys. Theology.
ROOT, n. s., v. a., & v. n. ) Goth. and
ROOT'ED, £ Swed. rot ; Belg.
ROOT'EDLY, adv. J rocd. That part
of the plant which rests in the ground, and sup-
plies it with nourishment ; the original ; first an-
cestor : to fix the root ; strike deep ; fix deep :
the adjective and adverb corresponding.
The multiplying brood of the ungodly shall not
take deep roonng from bastard slips, nor lay any fast
foundation. Wisdom.
Having this way eased the church, as they thought,
of superfluity, they went on till they had plucked up
even those things also which had taken a great deal
stronger and deeper 7-oof. Hooker.
It -vas said,
That myself should be the root, and father
Of many kings. Slmkspeare. Macbeth.
Underneath the grove of sycamour,
That westward rooteth, did 1 see your son.
Shakspeure.
Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow,
Raze out the written troubles of the brain. Id.
They all do hate him as rootedly as I. Id.
He's a rank weed,
And we musf rcot him out. Id. Henry Vlll.
The Egyptians think it sin to root up or to bite
Their leeks or onions, which they serve with holy
rite. Raleigh's History of the World.
When you would have many new roofs of fruit
trees, take a low tree, and bow it, and lay all his
branches aflat upon the ground, and cast earth upon
them, and every twig will take roof. Bacon.
After a yeat's rooting, then shaking doth the tree
good, by loosening of the earth. Id.
Why did my parents send me to the schools,
That 1 with knowledge might enrich my mind ?
S4nce the desire to know first made men fools,
And did corrupt the root of all mankind. Daviet.
The danger is great to them, who, on a weaker
foundation, do yet stand firmly rooted, and grounded
in the love of Christ. Hammond's Fundamentals.
Deep to the roots of hell the gathered breach
They fastened. Milton.
Whence,
But from the author of all ill, could spring
So deep a malice, to confound the race
Of mankind in one root? Milton's Paradise Lost.
Not to destroy, but root them out of heaven.
Milton.
If any irregularity chanced to intervene, and
cause misapprehensions, ne gave them not leave to
root and fasten by concealment. Fell.
That the love of money is the root of all evil is a
truth universally agreed in. Temple.
A flower in meadow ground, amellus called ;
And from one root the rising stem bestows
A wood of leaves. Dryden's Virgil'* Georgicks.
That love took deepest root which first did grow.
Dryden.
When ocean, air, and earth, at once engage,
And rooted forests fly before their rage,
At once the clashing clouds to battle move. Id.
Root up wild olives from thy laboured lands. Id.
They were the roots, out of which sprang two
distinct people, under two distinct governments.
Lor he.
In October, the hops will settle and strike root
against spring. Mortimer's Huibandry.
The coulter must be proportioned to the soil, be-
cause, in deep grounds, the weeds root the deeper.
Mortimer.
The layers will in a month strike rout, being
planted in a light loamy earth. Evelyn'* Kalendnr.
These subterraneous vaults would be found espe-
cially about the root* of the mountains. Burnet.
The great important end that God designs it for.
the government of mankind, sufficiently shows the
necessity of its being rooted deeply in the heart, an-i
ROPE-MAKING.
41
put beyond the danger of being torn up by anyordi-.
nary violence. St>uth.
In vain we plant, we build, our stores increase,
If conscience roots up all our inward peace.
Granville.
You always joined a violent desire of perpetually
changing places with a rooted laziness.
Swift to Gay.
Those plants, whose roott are eaten, are carrots,
turnips, and radishes. Watts.
They have so rooted themselves in the opinions of
their party, that they cannot hear an objection with
patience. Id.
Nor were the cole-worts wanting, nor the root,
Which after-ages call Hibernian fruit. Harte.
ROOT. See BOTANY.
ROOT, in algebra and arithmetic, denotes any
number which, multiplied by itself once or
oftener, produces any other number ; and is
called the square, cube, biquadrate, &c., root,
according to the number of multiplications.
Thus 2 is the square-root of 4, the cube-root
of 8, the biquadrate-root of 16, &c.
ROOT, SNAKE. See ARISTOLOCIIIA.
ROPE, B. s. & u. a. ^ Sax. jiaj> ; Goth, rep ;
ROPE'DANCER, Swed. reep ; Belg. reip,
ROPE'MAKER, I roop. A thick cord or
RO'PERY, n.s. >string; halter; cluster:
ROPE'TRICK, to range; draw out:
RO'PIXESS, «. s. I ropery is usedbyShaks-
RO'PY, adj. J peare for roguery : rope-
trick for a rogue's trick ; or, as Johnson thinks,
for tricks that deserve a halter : ropiness is vis-
cosity ; stringiness : ropy, glutinous ; viscous :
the other compounds the extracts will explain.
Thou drunken slave, I sent thee for a rope,
And told thee to what purpose. Shakspeare.
The ropemaker bears me witness,
That I was sent for nothing but a ropf. Id.
What saucy merchant was this, that was so full
of his ropery ? Id. Merchant of Venice .
She may perhaps call him half a score knaves or
so : an' he begin once, he'll rail in his ropetrickt.
Shakspeare.
An anchor let down by a rope, maketh a sound ;
and yet the rope is no solid body, whereby the sound
can ascend. Bacon.
Such bodies partly follow the touch of another
body, and partly stick to themselves : and therefore
rope and draw themselves into threads ; as pitch,
glue, and birdlime. Id.
Salvian, amongst public shews, mentions the Peta-
menarii ; probably derived from the Greek rtraiSai,
to fly, and may refer to such kind of ropedancers.
Wilkins.
Who would, not guess there might be hopes,
The fear of gallowses and ropes
Before their eyes, might reconcile
Their animosities a while. Hudibrtu.
In this close vessel place the earth accursed,
But filled brimful with wholesome water first,
Then run it through, the drops will ro;>« around.
Drijden.
Ask for what price thy venal tongue was sold ;
Tough, withered truffles, ropy wine, a dish
Of shotten herrings, or stale stinking fish. Id.
I cannot but confess myself mightily surprized,
that, in a book which was to provide chains for all
mankind, 1 should find nothing but a rope of sand.
Locke.
Take care
Thy muddy bev'rage to serene, and drive
Precipitant the baser ropy lees. Philips.
Statius, posted on the highest of the two summits,
the people regarded > with terror, as they look upon a
daring ropedancer, whom they expect to fall every
moment. Addison.
Hang yourself up in a true rope, that there may
appear no trick in it. Arbuthnol.
The contents separated from it are sometimes ropu,
and sometimes only a grey and mealy, light sub-
stance. BUtckmore.
ROPE-MAKING is an art of great importance,
and there are few that better deserve the atten-
tion of the intelligent observer. Hardly any
trade can be carried on without the assistance of
the rope-maker. Cordage makes the very sinews
and muscles of a ship ; and every improvement
which can be made in its preparation, either in
respect to strength or pliableness, must be of im-
mense service to the mariner, and to the com-
merce and defence of nations.
Rope-making has been denned the art of
uniting animal or vegetable fibres into an aggre-
gate line, so that the whole may concur in one
joint action, and be employed under the forms of
string, cord, cable, &c. Animal fibres, on ac-
count of their expense, are but seldom used, but
those that are introduced into the employment
are obtained either from the intestines or the
hair. The intestines of sheep and lambs are
manufactured into what is called cat-gut, of dif-
ferent sizes, for the use of musical-instrument-
makers, for watch-makers, opticians, cutlers,
turners, and a variety of other artificers. The
tendrils of the ovary of the squalus canicula, or
dog-fish, are chiefly employed in angling, more
frequently single than in the combined state,
known in the trade by the name of Indian -grass.
Animal hair, as that from horses, is had recourse
to where there is no great friction, and it forms a
rope or cord much more durable than any that
can be obtained from vegetables; it is impervious
to moisture is capable of resisting all weathers,
and is extremely elastic. Hence it is obvious that
the rope-maker must derive his chief material
from the vegetable kingdom ; which he does from
the inner bark of the hemp, or cannabis sativa ;
or from that of some of the species of flax, or
linum ; that of the L. usitassimum is the most
important. The treatment of both these plants
being nearly the same, we shall describe, as
nearly as we can, that relating to flax. The plant
is rather common in most of the temperate parts
of Europe, flowering in July. The root is an-
nual, fibrous, and small; the stem is erect, round,
smooth, and leafy ; the flowers on stalks erect,
and of a sky-blue color. About the end of Au-
gust, when the flowers have attained their full
growth, and begin to turn yellow at bottom, and
brown at the top, and their seeds to ripen, it is a
proper time to pull the plants up. They are
dried and threshed ; they are then to be put in
water till the bark readily separates from the
stalk, when they are taken out and dried, after
which they are in a proper state for the purpose
of being converted into flax by the hackler. We
may observe, though not strictly connected with
the subject in hand, thnt, as from the bark of the
stalks is manufactured flax or Hnt, for making of
all sorts of linen cloth ; — from cloth, when worn
out, we make our paper ; from the seeds of the
42
ROPE-MAKING.
plant linseed oil is expressed ; and even the re-
fuse, after the oil is extracted, forms oil-cakes, so
valuable in fattening cattle, sheep, and other
live stock. From hemp, however, treated in a
similar way, we have the materials for cordage,
ropes, and cables. Russian hemp is most used,
but English hemp, when properly manufactured,
is superior to that introduced from the north.
The aim of the rope-maker is to unite the
strength of a great number of fibres, and the first
part of his process is spinning of rope-yarns ;
that is, twisting the hemp in the first instance.
This is done in various ways, and with different
machinery, according to the nature of the in-
tended cordage. We shall confine our descrip-
tion to the manufacture of the larger kinds, such
as are used for the standing and running rigging
of ships. An alley, or walk, is enclosed for the
purpose, about 200 fathoms long, and of a
breadth suited to the extent of the manufacture.
It is sometimes covered above. At the upper
end of this rope-walk is set up the spinning-
wheel. The band of the wheel goes over several
rollers, called whirls, turning on pivots in brass
holes. The pivots at one end come through the
frame, and terminate in little hooks. The wheel,
being turned by a winch, gives motion in one di-
rection to all the whirls. The spinner has a
bundle of dressed hemp round his waist, with
the two ends meeting before him. The hemp is
laid in this bundle in the same way that women
spread the flax on the distaff. There is great va-
riety in this ; but the general aim is to lay the
fibres in such a manner, that, as long as the
bundle lasts, Ihere may be an equal number of
the ends at the extremity, and that a fibre may
never offer itself double, or in a bight. The
spinner draws out a proper number of fibres,
twists them with his fingers, and, having got a
sufficient length detached, he fixes to the hook of
a whirl. The wheel is now turned, and the skein
is twisted, becoming what is called rope-yarn,
and the spinner walks backwards down the rope-
walk. The part already twisted draws along
with it more fibres out of the bundle. The
spinner aids this with his fingers, supplying
hemp in due proportion, as he walks away from
the wheel, and taking care that the fibres come
in equally from both sides of his bundle, and
that they enter always with their ends, and not
by the middle, which would double them. He
should also endeavour to enter every fibre at the
heart of the yarn. This will cause all the fibres
to mix equally in making it up, and will make
the work smooth, because one end of each fibre
is, by this means, buried among the rest, and
the other end only lies outward ; and this, in
passing through the grasp of the spinner, who
presses it tight with his thumb and palm, is also
made to lie smooth. A good spinner endeavours
always to supply the hemp in the form of a thin
fiat skein, with his left hand, while his right
hand is employed in grasping firmly the yarn
that is twining off, and in holding it tight from
the whirl, that it may not run into loops or kinks.
It is evident that both the arrangement of the
fibres, and the degree of twisting, depend on the
skill and dexterity of the spinner, and that he
must be instructed, not by a book, but by a
master. The degree of twist depends on the rate
of the wheel's motion, combined with the retro-
grade walk of the spinner. We may suppose
him arrived at the lower end of the walk, or as
far as is necessary for the intended length of his
yarn. He calls out, and another spinner imme-
diately detaches the yarn from the hook of the
whirl, and gives it to another, who carries it
aside to the reel ; and this second spinner at-
taches his own hemp to the whirl-hook. In the
mean time, the first spinner keeps fast hold of
the end of his yarn ; for the hemp, being dry,
is very elastic, and, if he were to let it go out of
his hand, it would instantly untwist, and become
little better than loose hemp. He waits, there-
fore, till he sees the reeler begin to turn the reel,
and he goes slowly up the walk, keeping the
yarn of an equal tightness all the way, till he
arrives at the wheel, where he waits with his
yarn in his hand till another spinner has finished
his yarn. The first spinner takes it off the whirl-
hook, joins it to his own, that it may follow it on
the reel, and begins a new yarn. The second
part of the process is the conversion of the yarns
into what may with propriety be called a rope,
cord, or line. That we may have a clear concep-
tion of the principle which regulates this part
of the process, we shall begin with the simplest
possible case — the union of two yarns into one
line.
When hemp has been split into very fine
fibres by the hatchet, it becomes exceedingly
soft and pliant, and, after it has lain for some
time in the form of fine yarn, it may be unreeled
and thrown like flaxen yarn, so as to make
sewing-thread. It is in this way, indeed, that
the sail-makers' sewing-thread is manufactured,
and when it has been kept on the reel, or on
balls or bobbins, for some time, it retains its
twist as well as its uses require. But this is by
no means the case with yarns spun for great
cordage. The hemp is so elastic, the number
of fibres twisted together is so great, and the
diameter of the yarn (which is a sort of lever on
which the elasticity of the fibre exerts itself) is
so considerable, that no keeping will make the
fibres retain this constrained position.
The end of a rope-yarn being thrown loose, it
will immediately untwist, and this with consi-
derable force and speed. It would, therefore,
be a fruitless attempt to twist two such yarns
together ; yet the ingenuity of man has contrived
to make use of this very tendency to untwist,
not only to counteract itself, but even to pro-
duce another and a permanent twist, which re-
quires force to undo it, and which will recover
itself when this force is removed. Every person
must recollect that, when he has twisted a pack-
thread very hard with his fingers between his
two hands, if he slackens the thread by bringing
his hands nearer together, the packthread will
immediately curl up, running into loops or kinks,
and -will even twist itself into a neat and firm
cord. The component parts of a rope are called
strands, and the operation of uniting them with
a permanent twist is called laying or closing,
the latter term being chiefly appropriated to
cables and other very large cordage.
The process of laying or closing large cordage
ROPE- MAKING.
43
is thus conducted : the strands of which the rope
is composed consist of many yarns, and require
a considerable degree of hardening. This cannot
be done by a whirl driven by a wheel-band ; it
requires the power of a crank turned by the hand.
The strands, when properly hardened, become
very stiff, and, when bent round the top, are not
able to transmit force enough for laying the
heavy and unpliant rope which forms beyond it.
The elastic twist of the hardened strands must
therefore be assisted by an external force. All
this requires a different machinery and a different
process. At the upper end of the walk is there-
fore fixed a tackle-board : this consists of a
strong oaken plank, called a breast-board, having
three or more holes in it and fitted with brass or
iron plates. Into these are put iron cranks called
heavers, which have hooks or forelocks, and keys
on the ends of their spindles. They are placed
at such a distance from each other that the work-
men do not interfere while turning them round.
This breast-board is fixed to the top of strong
posts, well secured by struts or braces facing
the lower end of the walk. At the lower end is
another breast-board fixed to the upright post of
a sledge, which may be loaded with stones or
other weights. Similar cranks are placed in the
holes of this breast-board; the whole goes by
the name of the sledge.
The top necessary for closing large cordage is
too heavy to be held in the hand, it therefore has
a long staff, which has a truck on the end. This
rests on the ground, but even this is not enough
in laying great cables. The top must be sup-
ported on a carriage, where it must lie very
steady, and it needs attendance, because thp
master workman has sufficient employment in
attending to the manner in which the strands
close behind the top, and in helping them by
various methods. The top is therefore fixed to
the carriage by lashing its staff to the two up-
right posts. A piece of soft rope or strap is
attached to the handle of the top by the middle,
and its two ends are brought back and wrapped
several times tight round the rope in the direc-
tion of its twist, and bound down. This greatly
assists the laying of the rope by its friction,
which both keeps the top from flying too far
from the point of union of the strands, and
brings the strands more regularly into their
places. The first operation is warping the yarns.
At each end of the walk are frames called warp-
ing frames, which carry a great number of reels,
or winches, filled with rope-yarn. The foreman
of the walk takes off a yarn end from each, till
he has made up the number necessary for his
rope or strand, and, bringing the ends together,
he passes the whole through an iron ring fixed
to the top of a stake driven into the ground, and
draws them through ; then a knot is tied on the
end of the bundle, and a workman pulls it
through this ring till the intended length is
drawn off the reels. The end is made fast at
the bottom of the walk, or at the sledge, and
the foreman comes back along the skein of yarns,
to see that none are hanging slacker than the
vest. He takes up in his hand such as are slack
and draws them tight, keeping them so till he
ivuches the upper end, where he cuts the yarns
to a length, again adjusts then- tightness, and
joins them all together in a knot, to which he
fixes the hook of a tackle, the other block of
which is fixed to a firm post, called the warping-
post. The skein is well stretched by the tackle,
and then separated into its different strands.
Each of these is knotted apart at both ends.
The knots at their upper ends are made fast to
the hooks of the cranks in the tackle-board, and
those at the lower ends are fastened to the cranks
in the sledge. The sledge itself is kept in its
place by a tackle, by which the strands are
again stretched in their places and every thing
adjusted, so that the sledge stands square on the
walk, and then a proper weight is laid on it. The
tackle is now cast off, and the cranks are turned
at both ends in the contrary direction to the
twist of the yarns (in some kinds of cordage the
cranks are turned the same way with the spin-
ning twist). By this the strands are twisted and
hardened up, and as they contract by this ope-
ration the sledge is dragged up the walk. When
the foreman thinks the strands sufficiently
hardened, which he estimates by the motion of
the sledge, he orders the heavers at the cranks
to stop. The middle strand at the sledge is
taken off from the crank ; this crank is taken
out, and a stronger one put in its place. The
other strands are taken off from their cranks,
and all are joined on the hook which is now in
the middle hole; the top is then placed between
the strands, and, being pressed home to the point
of their union, the carriage is placed under it,
and it is firmly fixed down ; some weight is
taken off the sledge. The heavers now begin to
turn at both ends; those at the tackle-board
continue to turn as they did before, but the
heavers at the sledge turn in the opposite direc-
tion to their former motion, so that the cranks
at both ends are now turning one way. By the
motion of the sledge-crank the top is forced
away from the knot, and the rope begins to
close. The heaving at the upper end restores lo
the strands the twist which they are constantly
losing by the laying of the rope. The workmen
judge of this by making a chalk mark on the in-
termediate points of the strands, where they lie
on the stakes which are set up along the walk
for their support. If the twist of the strands is
diminished by the motion of closing they will
lengthen, and the chalk mark will move away
from the tackle-board ; but, if the twist increases
by turning the cranks at the tackle-board, the
strands will shorten and the mark will come
nearer to it. As the closing of the rope ad-
vances the whole shortens, and the sledge is
dragged up the walk. The top moves faster,
and at last reaches the upper end of the walk,
the rope being now laid.
In the mean time the sledge has moved several
fathoms from the place where it was when the
laying began. These motions of the sledge and
top must be exactly adjusted to each other. The
rope must lie of a .certain length, therefore the
sledge must stop at a certain place. At that mo-
ment the rope should be laid ; that is, the top
should be at the tackle-board. In this consists
the address of the foreman. He has his attention
directed both ways. He looks at the strands,
44
ROPE-MAKING.
and, when he sees any hanging slacker between
the stakes than the others, he calls to the heavers
at the tackle-board to heave more upon that
strand. He finds it more difficult to regulate the
motion of the top. It requires a considerable
force to keep it in the angle of the strands, and
it is always disposed to start forward. To pre-
rent or check this, some straps of soft rope are
brought round the staff of the top, and then
wrapped several times round the rope behind
the top, and kept firmly down by a lanyard or
bandage. This both holds back the top and
greatly assists the laying of the rope, causing the
strands to fall into their places, and keep close
to each other, which is sometimes very difficult,
especially in ropes composed of more than three
strands. It will greatly improve the laying the
rope, if the top has a sharp, smooth, tapering
pin of hard wood, pointed at the end, projecting
so far from the middle of its smaller end that it
gets in between the strands which are closing.
This supports them, and makes their closing
more gradual and regular. The top, its notches,
the pin, and the warp or strap, which is lapped
round the rope, are all smeared with grease or
soap, to assist the closing. The foreman judges
of the progress of closing chiefly by his acquaint-
ance with the walk, knowing that when the
sledge is a-breast of a certain stake the top should
be a-breast of a certain other stake. When he
finds the top too far down the walk he slackens
the motion at the tackle-board, and makes the
men turn briskly at the sledge. By this the top
is forced up the walk, and the laying of the rope
accelerates, while the sledge remains in the
same place, because the strands are losing their
twist, and are lengthening, while the closed rope
is shortening. When, on the other hand, he
thinks the top too far advanced, and fears that it
will be at the head of the walk before the sledge
has got to its proper place, he makes the men
heave briskly on the strands, and the heavers at
the sledge crank work softly. This quickens the
motion of the sledge by shortening the strands ;
and, by thus compensating what has been over-
done, the sledge and top come to their places at
once, and the work appears to answer the inten-
tion. When the top approaches the tackle-board
the heaving at the sledge could not cause the
strands immediately behind the top to close well,
without having previously produced an extrava-
gant degree of twist in the intermediate rope.
The effort of the crank must, therefore, be assist-
ed by men stationed along the rope, each fur-
nished with a tool called a woolder. This is a
stout oaken stick, about three feet long, having a
strap of soft rope-yarn or cordage, fastened on
its middle or end. The strap is wrapped round
the laid rope, and the workman works with the
stick as a lever, twisting the rope round in the
direction of the crank's motion. The woolders
should keep their eye on the man at the crank,
and make their motion correspond with his.
Thus they send forward the twist produced
by the crank, without either increasing or dimi-
nishing it, in that part of the rope which lies
between them and the sledge. Such is the
general and essential process of rope making.
The fibres of hemp are twisted into yarns, that
they vnay make a line of any length, and stick,
among each other with a force equal to their
own cohesion. The yarns are made into cords
of permanent twist by laying them ; and that we
may have a rope of any degree of strength many
yarns are united in one strand, for the same rea-
son that many fibres were united in one yarn ;
and in the course of this process it is in our
power to give the rope a solidity and hardness
which make it less penetrable by water, which
would rot it in a short while. Some of these
purposes are inconsistent with others : and the
skill of a rope-maker lies in making the best
compensation, so that the rope may, on the
whole, be the best in point of strength, pliancy,
and duration, that the quantity of hemp in it can
produce. The following rule for judging of the
weight which a rope will bear is not far from the
truth. It supposes them rather too strong ; but
it is so easily remembered that it may be of use.
Multiply the circumference in inches by itself,
and take the fifth part of the product, it will ex-
press the tons which the rope will carry. Thus,
if the rope ha* six inches circumference, six
times six is thirty-six, the fifth of which is seven
tons and one-fifth.
It is usual in coWes,and in other cases, to have
recourse to the operation of tarring. This is often
done in the state of twine or yarn, as being t he best
mode by which the hemp can be uniformly pene-
trated. The yarn is made to wind off from one reel,,
and, having passed through a vessel of liquid hot
tar, is wound on another reel ; the superfluous tar
is taken off by passing through a hole surround-
ed with oakum : or it is sometimes- tarred in
skeins, %vhich are drawn by a capstern through a
tar-kettle, and a hole formed by two plates of
metal, held together by a lever, loaded with a
weight. There is this peculiarity to be noticed
— tarred cordage is weaker, when new, than
white, and the difference increases by the keep-
ing. From some very accurate experiments made
more than half a century ago, it was found that,
on newly-made cordage, the white was one-eighth
stronger than that which was tarred ; that, at the
expiration of three months, the difference in
favor of the new was almost one-fourth ; and, in
about three years and a half, the difference was
as twenty-nine to eighteen. From these, and
other experiments, it was ascertained, 1. That
white cordage in continual service is one-third
more durable than that which is subjected to the
operation of tarring. 2. That H retains its
strength much longer while kept in t^e ware-
house. 3. That it resists the ordinary injuries
of the weather one*fourth longer. It may then be
asked, Why is tar ever used by the rope-maker ?
Because white cordage, when exposed to be alter-
nately very wet and dry, is weaker than that
which is tarred, and to this cables and ground-
tackle are continually subjected. It has also been
pretty well ascertained that cordage which is
only superficially tarred is constantly stronger
than that which is tarred throughout.
Before we conclude this article we may notice
Mr. Chapman's method of making ropes and
cordage, for which he obtained, some years since,
ROP 4
his majesty's letters patent. The specifications
may be found in the ninth volume of the First
Series of the Repertory. It is too long to be
admitted in our work ; the following is, however,
an outline of the whole : —
Rope-yams are spun either by hand, or by
machinery : in the practice of the first method
rope-walks are necessary, and the fibres of the
hemp are drawn into the yarn of different lengths
proportionate in a given degree to their position
on the outside or inside of the yarn; accordingly,
when this yarn is strained, and its diameter col-
lapses, the inside fibres of hemp bear the greatest
•strain, and thus they break progressively from the
inside. In the spinning by a mill the fibres are
all brought forward in a position parallel to each
other, previously to their receiving their twist.
They are consequently all of one length ; and,
when twisted, the outside fibres are most short-
ened by forming the same number of spirals
round a greater axis than the interior, and thus
they must consequently break the -first, on the
same principle that the outside yarns of strands
of ropes manufactured in the old method break
before the interior yarns ; and consequently with
less strain than ropes of the improved principle,
where the strands (or immediate component
parts of the rope) have been formed in such a
manner as that all the yarns shall bear equally
at the time of the rope's breaking. Nevertheless
yarns spun by a mill have been found stronger
than common yarns, on account of the great
evenness with which they are spun ; the manual
labor in manufacturing is much less than in the
common method : but on the other hand there is
the expense of machinery, and the greater waste
of hemp in preparing it for being drawn out in the
progressive stages of its advance to the spindle.
The method invented by Mr. Chapman differs
from both the preceding, in causing, by an easy
and simple contrivance, the fibres of the hemp to
be laid in the yarn in such a manner as the yarns
themselves are laid in the strands of the rope
manufactured on the new principle. The ma-
chinery consists only of a spindle divided into
two parts, the upper containing apparatus to
draw forward the hemp from the spinner with
zwist sufficient to combine the fibres ; which
enables him to employ women, children, and in-
valids, and also to appropriate the rope-ground
solely to the purpose of laying ropes. The re-
maining parts of the invention consist chiefly
in giving from a stationary power internal mo-
tion to a loco-motive machine, viz. to the roper's
sledge, on which the strands and the rope itself
are twisted, by which contrivance they are ena-
bled to apply a water-wheel or steam-engine to
the whole process of making ropes of all kinds
whatevec.
Mr. Hudclart likewise obtained a patent for
an improved method of registering or forming
strands in the machinery for manufacturing
of cordage ; which he effects in the following
manner : — 1. By keeping the yarns separate
from each other, and drawing them from bobbins
which revolve to keep up the twist whilst the
strand is forming. 2. By passing them through
a register, which divides them by circular shells
of holes ; the number in each shell being agree-
5 ROS
able to the distance from the centre of the strand,
and the angle which the yarns make with a line
parallel to it, and which gives them a proper po-
sition to enter. 3. A cylindrical tube which com-
presses the strand, and maintains a cylindrical
figure to its surface. 4. A gauge to determine
the angle which the yarns in the outside shall
make with a line parallel to the centre of the
strand when registering ; and, according to the
angle made by the yarns in this shell, the length
of all the yarns in the strand will be determined.
5. By hardening up the strand, and thereby in-
creasing the angle in the outside shell, which
compensates for the stretching of the yarns and
the compression of the strand.
ROPE-YARN, among sailors, is the yarn of
any rope untwisted, but commonly made up of
junk : its use is to make sinnet, mats, &c.
ROQ'UELAURE, n. s. Fr. roqueluure. A
cloak for men.
Within the roquelaure's clasp thy bands are pent.
Gay.
RORAAS, an inland town of Norway, in the
bishopric of Drontheim. It stands on a high
mountain the most elevated inhabited situation
in the country. Frost and snow prevail during
almost the whole year. It contains 3000 inhab-
itants, principally occupied in the copper mines
of the neighbourhood. Sixty-seven miles S. S. E.
of Drontheim.
RO'RID, adj. Lat. roridus. Dewy.
A vehicle conveys it through less accessible cavi-
ties into the liver, from thence into the veins and so
in a rorid substance through the capillary cavities.
Browns Vulgar Errours.*
RORIDULA, in botany, a genus of the mo-
nogynia order, and pentandria class of plants :
COR. pentapetalous : CAL. pentaphyllous : CAPS.
bivalved ; the antherae scrotiform at the base.
Species one only, a Cape shrub.
ROSA (Salvator), a celebrated painter, born
in Naples in 1614. He was first instructed by
Francis Francazano, a kinsman : but the death of
his father reduced him to sell drawings sketched
upon paper, one of which falling into the hands
of Lanfranc, he took him under his protection,
and enabled him to enter the school of Spagno-
letto, where he was taught by Daniel Falcone, a
distinguished painter of battles at Naples. Sal-
vator had a fertile imagination. He studied na-
ture with attention and judgment; and always
represented her to the greatest advantage. He.
was equally eminent for painting battles, ani-
mals, sea or land storms ; and he executed these
different subjects in a Style altogether, unequalled.
His pieces are exceedingly scarce and valuable ;
one of the finest is that representing Saul and
the witch of Endor, which was preserved at
Versailles. He died in 1673 ; and, as his paint-
ings are in few hands, he is more generally
known by his prints ; of which he etched a great
number. They are chiefly historical. He is
said to have spent the early part of his life among
a troop of banditti ; and that the rocky desolate
scenes in which he was accustomed to take re-
fuge furnished him with those romantic ideas in
landscape, in the representation of which he so
greatly excels. His robbers, as his detached
figures are commonly called, are supposed also
ROSA.
to have been taken from the life. He was also
a musician ; as appears from his musical MSS.
purchased at Rome by Dr. Burney.
ROSA, in botany, the rose, a genus of the po-
lygamia order, and icosandria class of plants ;
natural order thirty-fifth, senticosae : CAL. ur-
ceolated, quinquend, corneous, and straightened
at the neck ; petals five. The SEEDS are nume-
rous, hispid, and affixed to the inside of the
calyx. The different kinds of roses are very
numerous ; and botanists find it very difficult to
determine with accuracy which are species and
which are varieties. On this account Linnc,and
some other eminent authors, are inclined to
think that there is only one real species of rose,
which is the rosa cauina, or dog-rose of the
hedges, &c., and that all the other sorts are ac-
cidental varieties of it. However, accordins to
the Linnaean arrangement, they stand divided
into fourteen species, each comprehending va-
rieties, which in some sorts are bat few, in others
numerous. The supposed species and their
varieties, according to the arrangement of Gme-
lin, are as follow : —
1. R. alba, the common white rose, grows five
or six feet high, having a green stem and
branches, armed with prickles, hispid peduncull,
oval smooth germina, and large white flowers.
The varieties are, large double white rose, dwarf
single white rose, maiden's-blush white rose, being
large, produced in clusters, and of a white and
blush red color.
2. R. alpma, the alpine inermous rose, grows
five or eight feet high, having smooth or un-
armed reddish branches, pinnated seven-lobed
smooth leaves, somewhat hispid pedunculi, oval
germina, and deep-red single flowers ; appearing
in May. This species, as being free from all
kind of armature common to the other sorts of
roses, is esteemed as a singularity ; and from
this property is often called the virgin or thorn-
less rose.
3. R. canina, the canine rose, wild dog-rose
of the hedges, or hep-tree, grows five or six feet
high, having prickly stalks and branches, pin-
nated, five or seven-lobed leaves, with aculeated
foot-stalks, smooth pedunculi, oval smooth ger-
mina,.and small single flowers. There are two
varieties, red-flowered and white-flowered. They
grow wild in hedges abundantly all over the
kingdom ; and are sometimes admitted into
gardens, to increase the variety of the shrubbery
collection.
4. R. Carolinensis, the Carolina and Virginia
rose, &c., grows six or eight feet high, or more,
having smooth reddish branches, very thinly
aculeated ; pinnated seven-lcbed smooth leaves,
with prickly foot-stalks; somewhat hispid pe-
dunculi, globose hispid germen, and single red
flowers in clusters, appearing mostly in August
and September. The varieties are, dwarf Penn-
sylvanian rose, with single and double red
flowers, and American pale-red rose. This spe-
cies grows naturally in different parts of North
America, and often continues in blow from Au-
gust until October; and the flowers are suc-
ceeded by numerous red berry-like heps in
autumn, causing a variety all winter.
5. R. centifolia, the hundred-leaved red rose,
&c., grows from about three or four to six o
eight feet high, with pinnated three and five-
lobed leaves ; and large very double red flowers,
having very numerous petals, and of different
shades in the varieties. The varieties are, com-
mon Dutch hundred-leaved rose, grows three or
four feet high, with erect greenish branches, but
moderately armed with prickles ; and large
remarkably double red flowers, with short regu-
larly arranged petals. Blush hundred-leaved
rose, grows like the other, with large very double
pale-red flowers. Provence rose grows five or
six feet with greenish-brown prickly branches,
and very large double globular red flowers, with
large petals folding over one another, more or
less in the varieties. The varieties are, common
red Provence rose, and pale Provence rose ;
both of which having larger and somewhat
looser petals than the following sort : — cabbage
Provence rose; having the petals closely folded
over one another like cabbages. Dutch cabbage
rose, very large. Childing Provence rose. Great
royal rose, grows six or eight feet high, pro-
ducing remarkably large, somewhat loose, but
very elegant flowers. All these are large double
red flowers, somewhat globular at first blowing,
becoming gradually a little spreading at top, and
are very ornamental fragrant roses. Moss Pro-
vence rose, supposed a variety of the common
rose ; grows erectly four or five feet high, having
brownish stalks and branches, very closely armed
with short prickles, and double crimson-red
flowers ; having the calyx and upper part of
the peduncle surrounded with a rough mossy-
like substance, effecting a curious singularity.
This is a fine delicate rose, of a high fragrance,
which, together with its mossy calyx, renders it
a most beautiful flower.
6. R. cinnamonea, the cinnamon rose, grows
five or six feet high, or more, with purplish
branches thinly aculeated; pinnated five or seven
lobed leaves, having almost inermous petioles,
smooth pedunculi, and smooth globular germina;
with small purplish red cinnamon-scented flowers
early in May. There are varieties with double
flowers.
7. R. eglanteria, the eglantine rose or sweet
briar, grows five or six feet high, having green
branches, armed with strong spines sparsedly ;
pinnated seven-lobed odoriferous leaves, with
acute folioles and rough foot-stalks, smooth pe-
dunculi, globular smooth germina, and small
pale-red flowers. The varieties are, common
single flowered, semi-double flowered, double-
flowered, blush double-flowered, and yellow-
flowered. This species grows naturally in some
parts of England, and in Switzerland. It claims
culture in every garden for the odoriferous pro-
perty of its leaves : and should be planted in the
borders, and other compartments contiguous to
walks, or near the habitation, where the plants
will impart their refreshing fragrance very pro-
fusely around ; and the young branches are ex-
cellent for improving the odor of nosegays and
bow-pots.
8. R. gallica, the gallican rose, &c., grows
from about three or four to eight or ten feet
high, in different varieties; with pinnated, three,
five, or seven-lobed leaves, and large red ami
ROSA.
47
other colored flowers in different sorts. This
species is very extensive in supposed varieties,
bearing the above specific distinction, several of
which have been formerly considered as distinct
species, but are now ranged among the varieties
of the Galician rose, consisting of the following
noted varieties: common red officinal rose, grows
erect, about three or four feet high, having small
branches, with but few prickles, and large spread-
ing half-double deep red flowers. Rosa mundi
(rose of the world) or striped red rose is a va-
riety of the common red rose, growing but three
or four feet high, having large spreading semi-
double red flowers, beautifully striped with
white and deep red. York and Lancaster
variegated rose grows five, six, or eight feet
high, or more; bearing variegated red flowers,
consisting of a mixture of red and white; also
frequently disposed in elegant stripes, sometimes
in half of the flower, and sometimes in some of
the petals. Monthly rose grows about four or
five feet high, with green very prickly shoots;
producing middle-fixed, moderately double, de-
licate flowers, of different colors in the varieties.
The varieties are, common red-flowered monthly
rose, blush-flowered, white-flowered, and stripe-
flowered. All of which blow both early and
late, and often produce flowers several months
in the year, as May, June, and July ; and fre-
quently again in August or September, and
sometimes, in fine mild seasons, continue till
November or December : hence the name
monthly rose. Double-virgin rose grows five
or six feet high, having greenish branches with
scarcely any spines ; and with large double pale-
red and very fragrant flowers. Red damask-rose
K'rows eight or ten feet high, having greenish
branches, armed with short aculea ; and mode-
rately double, fine soft red, very fragrant flowers.
White damask-rose grows eight or ten feet high,
with greenish very prickly branches, and whitish-
red flowers, becoming gradually of a whiter color.
Blush Belgic rose grows three or four feet
high, or more ; having greenish prickly branches,
five or seven-lobed leaves, and numerous, very
double, blush-red flowers, with short petals,
evenly arranged. Red Belgic rose, having
greenish and red shoots and leaves, and fine
double deep-red flowers. Velvet rose grows
three or four feet high, armed with but few
prickles, producing large velvet-red flowers com-
prising semi-double and double varieties, all very
beautiful roses. Marbled rose grows four or five
feet high, having brownish branches, with but
few prickles ; and large, double, finely-marbled,
red flowers. Red-and-yellow Austrian rose
grows five or six feet high, having slender reddish
branches, armed with short brownish aculea;
and with flowers of a reddish copper-color on
one side, the other side yellow. Yellow Austrian
rose grows five or six feet high, having reddish
very prickly shoots, and numerous bright-yellow
flowers. Double yellow rose grows six or seven
fpet high ; with brownish branches, armed with
numerous large and small yellowish prickles;
and large very double yellow flowers. Francfort
rose grows eight or ten feet high, is a vigorous
shooter, with brownish branches thinly armed
with strong prickles, and produces largish double
purplish-red flowers, that blow irregularly, and
have but little fragrance.
9. R. moschata, the musk-rose, supposed to be
a variety only of the ever-green musk-rose, has
weak smooth green stalks and branches, rising
by support from six to eight or ten feet high, or
more thinly armed with strong spines, pinnated
seven-lobed smooth leaves, with prickly foot-
stalks, hispid peduncles, oval hispid germen ;
and all the branches terminated by large um-
bellated clusters of pure-white musk-scented
flowers, in August, &c.
10. R. pim pinellifolia, the burnet-leaved rose,
grows about a yard high, aculeated sparsedly ;
small neatly pinnated seven lobed leaves, having
obtuse folioles and rough petioles, smooth pe-
duncles, a globular smooth germen, and small
single flowers. There are varieties with red
flowers, and with white flowers. They grow
wild in England, &c., and are cultivated in shrub-
beries for variety.
11. R. sempervirens, the ever-green musk
rose, has a somewhat trailing stalk and branches,
rising by support five or six feet high or more,
having a smooth bark armed with prickles ;
pinnated five-lobed smooth shining ever-green
leaves, with prickly petioles, hispid pedunculi,
oval hispid germen ; and all the branches termi-
nated by clusters of pure while-flowers of a
musky fragrance ; appearing in the end of July,
and in August. The ever-green property of this
elegant species renders it a curiosity ; it also
makes a fine appearance as a flowering shrub.
There is one variety, the deciduous musk-rose.
This species and variety flower in August, and
are remarkable for producing in numerous clus-
ters, continuing in succession till October or
November.
12. R. spinosissima, the most spinous, dwarf
burnet-leaved rose, commonly called Scotch rose,
grows but two or three feet high, very closely
armed with spines; small neatly pinnated seven-
lobed leaves, with prickly foot-stalks, prickly
pedunculi, oval smooth germen, and numerous
small single flowers, succeeded by round dark-
purple heps. The varieties are common white-
flowered, red-flowered, striped-flowered, and
marble-flowered. They grow naturally in Eng-
land, Scotland, &c. The first variety rises nearly
a yard high, the others about one or two feet, all
of which are single-flowered ; but the flowers,
being numerous all over the branches, make a
pretty appearance in the collection.
13. R. villosa, the villose apple-bearing rose,
grows six or eight feet high, having strong erect
brownish-smooth branches, aculeated sparsedly
pinnated seven-lobed villose or hairy leaves
downy underneath, with prickly foot-stalks,
hispid peduncles, a globular prickly germen;
and large single red flowers, succeeded by large
round prickly heps, as big as little apples. This
species merits admittance into every collection
as a curiosity for the singularity of its fruit,
both for variety and use ; for it, having a thick
pulp of an agreeable acid relish, is often made
into a tolerably good sweetmeat. The above
thirteen species of rosa, and their respective va-
rieties, are of the shrub kind ; all deciduous ex-
cept R. sempervirens, and of hardy growth, sue-
ROS
48
ROS
ceeding in any common soil and situation, and
flowering annually in great abundance from May
till October, in different sorts, though the general
flowering season for the principal part of them
is June and July ; but in a full collection of the
different species the blow is continued in con-
stant succession several months, even sometimes
from May till nearly Christmas ; producing their
flowers universally on the same year's shoots,
rising from those the year before, generally on
long pedunculi, each terminated by one or more
roses, which in their characteristic state consist
each of five large petals and many stamina ; but
in the doubles the petals are very numerous;
and in some sorts the flowers are succeeded by
fruit ripening to a red color in autumn and
winter, from the seed of which the plants may be
raised : but the most certain and eligible mode of
propagating most of the sorts is by suckers and
layers ; and by which methods they may be in-
creased very expeditiously. The white and red
roses are used in medicine. The former dis-
tilled with water yields a small portion of a
Lutyraceous oil, whose flavor exactly resembles
that of the roses themselves. This oil and the
distilled water are very useful and agreeable cor-
dials. These roses also, besides the cordial and
aromatic virtues which reside in the volatile
parts, have a mild purgative one, which remains
entire in the decoction left after distillation. The
red rose, on the contrary, has an astringent and
corroborating virtue.
ROSA, MOUNT, one of the Alpine heights, and
next to Mont Blanc, the highest mountain in
Europe. It stands between the canton of the Va-
lais and Piedmont, to the east of Mont Cervin,
Switzerland. Saussure calculated it to be 15,600
feet above the sea, or only seventy feet lower
than Mont Blanc ; Sir George Shuckburgh calls
it 15,240 feet above the Mediterranean. It con-
sists of a number of lofty peaks, all rising from
a centre somewhat like the leaves of a rose.
11OSALBA (Cariera), a Venetian lady, born
in 1675, who became an eminent paintress. She
painted portaits in crayons and miniatures, and
was greatly employed by the English nobility.
She died in 1755, aged eighty.
ROSAMOND, the daughter of Walter lord
Clifford, and concubine of Henry II., was a lady
of exquisite beauty, educated in the nunnery of
Godstow. The popular story of her is as follows :
— Henry II. loved her, and triumphed over her
honor. To avoid the jealousy of his queen Eleanor
he kept her in a labyrinth at Woodstock, and
by his connexion with her had William Long-
sword earl of Salisbury, and Geoffrey bishop of
Lincoln. On Henry's absence in France, how-
ever, tke queen discovered and poisoned her.
The queen, it is said, discovered her apartment
by a thread of silk. Some assert that she died
a natural death ; and the story of her being poi-
soned is by them said to have arisen from the
figure of a cup on her tomb. She was buried
in the church of Godstow, opposite to the high
altar, where her body remained till it was ordered
to be removed with every mark of indignity by
Hugh bishop of Lincoln in 1191. She was, how-
ever, by many considered as a saint after her
death, and fabuloyus legends were invented about
her.
RO'SARY, n. s. Lat. rosarium. A bunch of
beads, on which the Romanists number their
prayers.
No rosary this votress needs,
Her very syllables are beads. Cleave land,
Every day propound to yourself a rotary or a
chaplet of good works, to present to God at night.
Taylor.
ROS'CID, adj. Lat. roscidus. Dewy;
abounding with dew ; consisting of dew.
\V ine is to be forborn in consumptions, for the
spirits of wine prey upon the roscid juice of the body.
Bacon.
The ends of rainbows fall more upon one kind of
earth than upon another; for that earth is most
roscid. Jdt
ROSCIUS (Quintus), an eminent Roman
actor, so highly celebrated in comedy that his
name is applied as the best encomium to all
modern comedians of great merit. He was inti-
mate with Cicero and ./Esop the comedian ; and
was so much admired by the Romans that they
gave him a pension for life. His eyes being
distorted he wore a mask at first on the stage ;
but the Romans caused him to lay it aside, that
they might enjoy his oratory more fully. Being
calumniated by his enemies, Cicero, who had
been his pupil, defended him in an elegant ora-
tion, which is still extant. Roscius wrote a
treatise, in which he compared, with great talent,
the profession of the orator with that of the come-
dian ; of both which he was a competent judge.
He died about A. A. C. 60.
ROSCOMMON (Wentworth Dillon), earl of,
a celebrated poet of the seventeenth century,
born in Ireland, under the administration of the
first earl of Strafford, who was his uncle, and
from whom he received the name of Wentworth
at his baptism. He passed his infancy in Ire-
land ; after which the earl of Strafford sent for
him into England, and placed him at his own
seat in Yorkshire, under the tuition of Dr. Hall,
afterwards bishop of Norwich, who instructed
him in Latin. On the earl of Stafford's im-
peachment he went to complete his education at
Caen in Normandy ; and after some years tra-
velled to Rome. He returned to England soon
after the Restoration, and was made captain of
the band of pensioners ; but a dispute with the
lord privy-seal obliged him to resign his post,
and revisit Ireland, where the duke of Ormond
appointed him captain of the guards. Being at-
tacked one night when coming out of a gaming
house by three ruffians, he had despatched one of
them, when a disbanded officer coming past gene-
rously took his part and disarmed the other, on
which the third fled. The earl next day reward-
ed his brave assistant by resigning to him his
post of captain of the guards. He returned to
London, was made master of the horse to the
dutchess of York, and married the lady Frances,
eldest daughter of Richard earl of Burlington.
He here distinguished himself by his writings.
In 1683 he was seized with the gout; and, being
too impatient of pain, he permitted a French
empiric to apply a repelling medicine to give
him relief; which drove the distemper into his
bowels, and put. a period to his life in January
1684. He was buried with great pomp in West-
ROS
49
ROS
minster-abbey. His poems, which are not nume-
-ous, are in the body of English poetry collected
by Dr. Johnson. His Essay on Translated Verse,
and his translation of Horace's Art of Poetry,
have great merit.
ROSCOMMOS, a county of Ireland, in the pro-
vince of Connaught, hounded on the east by the
counties of Leitrim, Longford, and Meath ; on
the north by Sligo and Leitrim ; on the south by
Galway ; and on the west by part of Galway and
Mayo, being about forty-seven miles in length,
and nine to twenty-nine in breadth. It is very
fruitful, and in general level, having but few
hills. It yields excellent corn, as well as pastu-
rage ; but there are some extensive bogs. The
chief town is Athlone, but the assizes are held at
Roscommon, the shire town, situated sixty-nine
miles W. N. W. of Dublin.
ROSCOE, William, was born in 1752. His
parents were in an humble sphere of life, and
could only afford him a common school educa-
tion ; and even this was interrupted. At an early
age, he was articled to an attorney in Liverpool ;
and this obliged him to study the Latin lan-
guage ; but he did not confine himself to what
was necessary to his profession, and by dint of
hard study, he read and made himself master of
the most distinguished Latin classics. In this
he was assisted by a friend. He next studied
the Italian and French languages, and in the for-
mer he became uncommonly proficient. He still
found time to attend to his business, and to
peruse the English poets. At the age of sixteen,
he commenced poet, and composed Mount
Pleasant, a descriptive poem. H iving finished
his clerkship, he was taken into partnership, by
Mr. Aspinall, an attorney of considerable prac-
tice ; and he carried on the whole of the busi-
ness, to which he paid a strict attention. Dur-
ing this period he contracted a friendship with
doctor Enfield and doctor Aikin. Painting and
statuary were also objects of his attention, and,
in 1773, he read, at the society in Liverpool, an
ode on those subjects, and also sometimes read
lectures there. When the question of the slave-
trade was brought before the public, Mr. Roscoe
took a warm part in favor of the abolition, and
most cordially joined Mr. Clarkson in his en-
deavors. He wrote a reply to a Spanish Jesuit on
that subject. His Scriptural Refutation of a Pam-
phlet on the Licitness of the Slave-Trade, and
his Wrongs of Africa, appeared in 1788 ; and,
in 1795, he brought out the work which has
gained him so much celebrity — the Life of Lo-
renzo de* Medici. About the year 1797, Mr.
Roscoe retired from the practice of an attorney,
and entered himself as a student of Gray's Inn,
with a view to the bar. During this period, he
had leisure for other studies, and published the
Nurse, a poem, from the Italian, and wrote the
Life and Pontificate of Leo X. Though the
Life of Leo is not equal to his Lorenzo, it is a
composition which displays talent and extensive
research. Mr. Roscoe oeipg attached to the
whig party, they supported him as a candidate
to represent Liverpool, and he was successful,
but at the next election was thrown out. lie
had. some time before, entered into business at
Liverpool as a banker, but in this was vmfor-
VOL. XIX.
tunate. He died in June, 1831. Mr. Roscoe
was the author of several political pamphlets,
and the great mover and supporter of several
public works in Liverpool. To the botanic gar-
den and to the Atheneum he lent much effective
assistance. His Life and Correspondence has
been published by his son.
ROSE, n. s. ~\ Fr. Dan. Swed. and
RO'SEATE, adj. ITeut. rose ; Lat. Ital. and
ROSED', fSpan.rosa. A flower. For
ROSE'MA RY, n. s. I the phrase 'to speak under
ROSENO'BLE, \>the rose,' see the extract
ROSE' WATER, / from Browne : roseate and
RO'SET, I rosed mean rosy ; red ;
RO'SIER, I blooming: rosemary (Lat.
RO'SY, adj. j ros marina], a weed ; a
herb : rosenoble, an ancient English gold coin
stamped with a rose : rose-water, water distilled
from the rose : roset, a red color : rosier (Fr.
rosier), a rose-bush: rosy, resembling the bloom,
color, or fragrance of the rose.
By desiring a secrecy to words spoke under the rote,
we mean, in society and compotation,>from the an-
cient custom in symposiack meetings, to wear chaplets
of rotes about their heads. Browne.
Attend him with a silver basin
Full of.rosewater. Shakipeare
Around their cell
Set rows of roi&nary with flowering stem. Dryden.
While blooming youth and gay delight
Sit on thy rety cheeks confest,
Thou hast, my dear, undoubted right
To triumph o'er this destined breast. Prior.
ROSE, in botany. See ROSA.
ROSE, CHINA. See HIBISCUS.
ROSE, DOG. See ROSA.
ROSE, GUELDER. See VIBURNUM.
ROSE, ROCK. See SISTUS.
ROSE ROOT. See RHODIOLA.
ROSEMARY. See ROSMARINI:S.
ROSEMARY, WILD. See LEDUM.
ROSES, CONSERVE OF. See PHARMACY.
ROSES, ESSESTIAL OIL OF, or OTTO OF ROSES,
an essential oil obtained from roses. It may be
made in the following manner: — A quantity of
fresh roses, for example forty pound.*, are put in
a still with sixty pounds of water, the roses being
left as they are with their calyxes, but with th*
stems cut close. The mass is then well mixed
together with the hands, and a gentle fire is made
under the still ; when the water begins to grow
hot, and fumes to rise, the cap of the still is put
on, and the pipe fixed ; the chinks are then well
luted with paste, and cold water put on the re-
frigeratory at top : the receiver is also adapted at
the end of the pipe ; and the fire is continued
under the still, neither too violent nor too weak.
When the impregnated water begins to come
over, and the still is very hot, the fire is lessened
by gentle degrees, and the distillation continued
till thirty pounds of water are come over, which
is generally done in about four or five hours ;
this rose-water is to be poured again on a fresh
quantity (forty pounds) of roses, and from fifteen
to twenty pounds of water are to be drawn by
distillation, following the same process as before.
The rose-water thus made and cohobated will be
found, if the roses were fresh and good, and the
distillation carefully performed highly scented
ROS
50
ROS
with the ro>os. It is then poured into pans
either of earthenware or of tinned metal, and left
exposed to the fresh air for the night. The otto
or essence will be found in the morning con-
sealed, and swimming on the top of the water;
this is to be carefully separated and collected
either with a thin shell or a skimmer, and poured
into a vial. When a certain quantity has thus
been obtained the water and faeces must be
separated from the clear essence, which, with
respect to the first, will not be difficult to do, as
the essence congeals with a slight cold, and the
water may then be made to run off. If, after
that, the essence is kept fluid by heat, the fceces
will subside, and may be separated; but if the
operation has been neatly performed these will
be few. The remaining water should be used
for fresh distillations instead of common water,
at least as far as it will go.
The following is the method commonly pur-
sued in India, whence great quantities have been
exported : — ' Take a very large glazed earthen
or stone jar, or a large clean wooden cask ; fill it
with the leaves of the flowers of roses, very well
picked, and freed from all seeds and stalks ;
pour on them as much pure spring water as will
cover them, and set the vessel in the sun in the
morning at sun-rise, and let it stand till the
evening ; then take it into the house for the night;
expose it, in this manner, for six or seven suc-
cessive days, and at the end of the third or
fourth day a number of particles, of a fine yellow
oily matter, will float on the surface, which, in
two or three days more, will gather into a scum,
which is the otto of roses. This is taken up by
some cotton, tied to the end of a piece of stick,
and squeezed with the finger and thumb into a
small phial, which is immediately well stopped ;
and this is repeated for some successive evenings,
or while any of this fine essential oil rises to the
surface of the water.' Dr. Donald Monro, who
communicated this receipt to the Royal Society
of Edinburgh, says, that he has been informed,
that some few drops of this essential oil have
more than once been collected by distillation in
London, in the same manner as the essential oils
of other plants.
The ROSE-NOBLE was first struck in the reign
of Edward III. It was formerly current at 6s. 8J.,
and so called because stamped with a rose. See
COINS.
ROSEAU, or Charlotte Town, the capital of
Dominica, in the West Indies, about seven
leagues from Prince Rupert's Bay. It stands on
a point of land on the south-west side of the
island, which here forms Woodbridge's Bay on
the north, and Charlotteville Bay to the south.
Roseau contains more than 500 houses, besides
negro cottages. It was once a much larger place.
Long. 61° 27' W., lat. 15° 25' N.
ROS ETTA, a town of Egypt, on that branch
of the Nile called by the ancients the Bolbitine,
and which forms now one of the two great chan-
nels by which it enters the sea. It is called the
canal of Rosetta. This city appears to have
been built by one of the caliphs. In the thirteenth
century it was an inconsiderable place ; but, as
the canal of Alexandria became impassable,
Rosetta rose into importance as a depot, and now
forms the medium point of communication be
tween that city and Cairo. The streets are nar-
row ; and each story projects over that beneath
till at the top the opposite houses nearly meet ;
but the houses are not, as in most other parts of
Egypt, composed of mud, but of a dingy red
brick, often plastered over and while-washed.
Upon the whole, however, Rosetta has a neat
compact appearance for an eastern town, and its
environs are delightful, being completely embo-
somed in a grove of date, banana, and sycamore
trees. The orange, pomegranate, and henne, here
also blend their perfumes ; and the palm towers
over all, adding magnificence to luxuriance. The
intervals are filled with esculent plants. Nume-
rous birds inhabit these groves, particularly the
turtle-dove, which is held sacred, aud approaches
the habitations of mankind without dread. The
opposite side of the Nile exhibits the richest part
of the Delta. The inhabitants of Rosetta and
the neighbourhood are milder and more civilised
than those of other parts of Egypt : they are chiefly
employed in agriculture, and contain a smaller
proportion of the Bedouin tribes. Though less
turbulent, however, than the inhabitants of Alex-
andria or Cairo, yet, being less accustomed to
Christians, they view them with more hatred. Ro-
setta manufactures red cotton yarn, flax, linen,
and silk dyes, for the oriental dresses : and here
is an extensive exportation of rice. The quay
is large and well built; the merchants being
chiefly Turks, and natives of Syria. Copts form
a considerable proportion of the population.
Long. 30° 2ff 35 E., lat. 31° 24' 31' N
ROSICRUCIANS, a name assumed by a
sect of hermetical philosophers, who arose in
Germany in the beginning of the fourteenth
century. They bound themselves together by
some solemn secret, which they all swore in-
violably to preserve; and obliged themselves, at
their admission intp the order, to a strict observ
ance of certain established rules. They pre
tended to a superior acquaintance with alt
sciences, and chiefly medicine. They pretended
to be masters of many important secrets ; and,
among others, of the philosopher's stone ; al)
which they affirmed to have received by trad*
tion from the ancient Egyptians, Chaldeans, the
Magi, and GymnosophisU. The denomination
appears to be derived from chemistry. It is not
compounded, says Mosheim, as many imagine,
of the words rosa and crux, rose and cross, but
of ros, dew, and crux. Of all natural bodies
dew was deemed the most powerful solvent of
gold ; and the cross, in the chemical language, is
equivalent to light, because the figure of a cross
+ exhibits at the fame time three letters, of
which the word LVX, or light, is compounded.
Hence a rosicrucian philosopher is x:e who, by
the assistance of the dew, seeks for light, or the
philosopher's stone. See Gassend's Examen
1'hilosophiae Fluddanae, sect. 15, torn. iii. p. 261 ;
and Renaudot's Conferences 1'ubliques, torn. iv.
p. 87. At the head of these fanatics were
Robert Fludd, an English physician, Jacob
Behmen, a mystic writer, and , Michael Mayer.
The principles which serve as a kind of centre
of union to -the rosicrucian society are the fol-
lowing:— Thev all maintained that the
ROS
51
ROS
tion of bodies by fire is the only way by which
men arrive at the first principles of things.
They alt acknowledged a certain analogy and
harmony between the powers of nature and the
doctrines of religion, and believed that the
deity governed the kingdom of grace by the
same laws with which he ruled the kingdom of
nature ; and hence they used chemical denomi-
nations to express the truths of religion. They
all held that there is a sort of divine energy or
soul, diffused through the frame of the universe,
which some-call the archeus, others the universal
spirit, &c. They all speak in the most super-
stitious manner of what they call the signatures
of things, of the power of the stars over all
corporeal beings, and their particular influence
upon the human race, of the efficacy of magic,
and the various ranks and orders of demons.
These demons they divided into two orders,
sylphs and gnomes ; from which system Pope
borrowed his beautiful machinery of the Rape
of the Lock. In fine, the rosicrucians and all
their fanatical followers agreed in throwing out
the most crude incomprehensible notions and
ideas, in the most obscure, quaint, and unusual
expressions. — Mosh. Eccl. Hist.
ROS'IN, n. s. & v. a. » Properly resin. Fr.
ROS'INY, adj. S resine ; Lat. resina.
Inspissated turpentine ; a juice of the pine : the
adjective corresponding.
The best soil is that upon a sandy gravel or rosiny
sand. Temple.
The billows from the kindling prow retire,
Pitch, rosin, searwood on red wings aspire. Garth.
Bouzebeus who could sweetly sing,
Or with the rosined bow torment the string. Gay.
Tea contains little of a volatile spirit ; its rosin or
fixed oil, which is bitter and astringent, cannot be
extracted but by rectified spirits. Arbuthnot.
ROSINUS (John), a learned German anti-
quary, born at Eisenach, in Thuringia, about
1550. He was educated at the university of
Jena ; became rector of a school at Ratisbon, in
1579; and afterwards minister of a Lutheran
church at Wickerstadt, in Weimar. In 1592
he was called to Naumburgh cathedral, in Sax-
ony, and died there of the plague in 1626. He
published several works, the chief of which is
his Antiquitatum Romanarum, libri x. ; Basil,
1583; folio.
ROSMARINUS, rosemary, in botany, a
genus of the monogynia order, and diandria
class of plants ; natural order forty-second, ver-
ticillatae : COR. unequal, with its upper lip bi-
partite ; the filaments are long, curved, and
simple, each having a small dent. There are
two species, viz. : —
1. R. angustifolia, the narrow-leaved rose-
mary ; and,
2. R. latifolia, the broad-leaved rosemary.
This last has larger flowers and a stronger scent
than the other. There are two varieties ; one of
the first sort with striped leaves, called the silver
rosemary ; and the other with yellow, called the
gold-striped rosemary. These plants grow na-
turally in the south of France, Spain, and Italy ;
where, upon dry rocky soils near the sea, they
thrive prodigiously, and perfume the air in such
a manner as to be smelt at a great distance from
the land. However, they are hardy enough to
bear the cold of our ordinary winters, provided
they be planted upon a poor, dry, gravelly soil,
on which they will endure the cold much bettc;
than in a richer ground, where, growing more
vigorously in summer, they are more apt to be
injured by frost in winter ; nor will they have
such a strong aromatic scent on a dry and bar-
ren soil. They are propagated either by slips
or cuttings. Rosemary has a fragrant smell,
and a warm pungent bitterish taste, approaching
to that of lavender ; the leaves and tender tops
are strongest ; next to these the cup of the
flower; the flowers themselves are considerably
the weakest, but most pleasant. Aqueous
liquors extract a great share of the virtues of
rosemary leaves by infusion, and elevate them
in distillation; along with the water arises a
considerable quantity of essential oil, of an
agreeable penetrating smell. Pure spirit ex-
tracts in great perfection the whole aromatic
flayor of the rosemary, and elevates very little
of it in distillation; hence the resinous mass
left upon extracting the spirit proves an elegant
aromatic, very rich in the peculiar qualities of
the plant. The flowers of rosemary give over
great part of their flavor in distillation with pure
spirit ; by watery liquors their fragrance is
much injured ; by beating destroyed.
ROSS, or ROSS-SHIRE, a county of Scotland,
including Tayne and Cromarty, stretching eighty
miles in length, and seventy-eight in breadth,
bounded on the north and north-east by Strath-
naver and Sutherland ; on the east by Cromarty
and the Murray Frith ; on the south by Inverness ;
and on the west by the Atlantic Ocean. The
county of Ross takes up the whole breadth of
the island ; and, being much indented with bays
and inlets from both seas, appears of a very ir-
regular form. These bays afford safe harbouis
for shipping, especially that of Cromarty. The
valleys are fertilised by several rivers, among
which are the Beauly, the Conon, the Ockel,
the Charron, and the Braan; besides a number
of fresh water lakes, which abound in this
county. The valleys are generally covered with
wood ; and near Alfrag there are forests of fir,
well stocked with game. Great numbers of
black cattle, horses, sheep, and goats, are fed
upon the mountains ; and the sea, rivers, and
lakes, abound with fish and fowl. The lakes on
the west coast abound with herrings, particularly
Loch £u, about' nine miles long and three
broad; one part of this is formed by a bay or
inlet of the sea ; and the other is a lake of fresh
water. Though the middle part of Ross, called
Ardross, is mountainous and barren, the north-
east part on the river Charron, and Frith of
Tayne, are fruitful and abound with villages.
Ardmeanach, part of the peninsula, betwixt the
bays of Cromarty and Murray, is a barony,
which of old bestowed a title on the king of
Scotland's second son. The district of Glen-
elchaig, on the south-west, belonged to the earl
of Seaforth, chief of the Mackenzies ; but the
last earl, having joined in the rebellion, was in
1719 defeated at Glenshiel in this quarter, with
a small body of Spaniarde. His auxiliaries were
taken ; he escaped to the continent ; but his
E2
ROS 5'
estate and honors were forfeited. The king's
troop* dismantled the castle of Yion-donnen,
situated on an island in a bay that fronts the
Isle of Sky, where he had erected his magazine.
Uoss was chiefly peopled by the Mackenzies
and Frasers, two warlike Highland clans. There
are fisheries carried on along the coast ; but
their chief traffic is in sheep and black cattle.
The county sends a member to the imperial
parliament ; and Tayne and Dingwall join with
Dornock, Wick, and Kirkwall, in electing a
representative for these boroughs.
Ross, an ancient and populous town of Here-
fordshire, 115 miles from London, with a good
trade, on the river Wye. It was made a free
borough by Henry III. It is famous for cyder.
Its market and fairs are well stored with cattle
and other provisions. At the west end of it
there is a fine broad causeway, constructed by
Mr. John Kyrle, the celebrated Man of Ross,
who also raised the spire 100 feet, and enclosed
a piece of ground with a stone wall, and sunk a
reservoir in its centre, for the use of the inha-
bitants of the town. He died in 1714, aged
ninety, with the blessing of all who knew him,
both rich and poor.
Ross, NEW, a borough town of Ireland, in
the county of Wexford, and province of Lein-
ster, on the side of a hill sixty-seven miles from
Dublin. It was formerly walled, and some of
the gates still remain. It lies on the Barrow,
which is here ' very deep, and ships of burden
can come up to the quay. The church is large,
but the custom-house and quay are both small.
It is one of the staple ports for exporting wool ;
beef and butter are the principal articles export-
ed. It has a barrack for a troop of horse, and a
ferry into the county of Kilkenny. Near this
town is a charter-school. It was formerly forti-
fied, and adorned with many religious nouses,
among which was a crowded friary, built on the
summit of a hill in the town ; but, one of the
friars having killed a principal inhabitant, the
people rose, put the friars to death and destroy-
ed the friary ; on the site of which the monas-
tery of St. Saviour, for conventual Franciscans,
was afterwards erected by Sir John Devereux ;
and the east end of this last building is now the
parish church. A friary for Eremites, following
the rule of St. Augustine, was also founded here
in the reign of Edward III. This town was the
scene of a very bloody battle, between the Irish
rebels and the king's troops, on the 5th of June,
1798. Each party was- alternately in possession
of the town, and the greater part of it was
burnt down during the contest. About 3000 of
the rebels were killed, but each party boasted of
victory. New Ross lies eleven miles north by
east of Waterford, and nineteen south of Wex-
ford.
Ross (Alexander), a very voluminous writer,
who has been often confounded with the bishop
of Edinburgh. His best work is his Uavatfitia,
or, A View of all Religions. Butler, in his
Hudibras, refers to the number and extent of his
writings,
1 here was an ancient sage philosopher,
'fho had read Alexander Ross over.
! ROS
Uo>s (David), a celebrated English actor,
Iwrn in 1728, he was disinherited by his father
for going upon the stage. He had been%ducuU'il
at Westminster school ; and made his first ap •
pearance upon Covent Garden Theatre in 1753,
where he continued till 1778, when he was left
out of the engagement by the managers, and
reduced to great distress; though he still had a
small annuity from a mortgage on the Edinburgh
Theatre, of which he was previously patentee.
But one day he was agreeably surprised by
receiving a bank note for £60, with an anony-
mous line, mentioning that it came from an old
school-fellow, and directing him to a banker from
whom he would receive the same sum annually.
This was continued for life, but the generous
donor was still unknown, till the banker's clerk
inadvertently blundered out the name of admi-
ral Barrington. In 1788 he was laid aside from
the stage by breaking his leg. He liad married
the celebrated Fanny Murray. He died at
London, September 14th, 1790.
ROSSO, or MAIKE Rofx, an eminent Italian
painter, born at Florence in 1496. He was
entirely self taught, and acquired great skill,
both in history and portrait painting. In the
church of St. Salvator, at Rome, is a fine picture
by him of the beheading of John the Baptist.
He died in 1541, aged forty-five.
ROSSANO, a town of Naples, in Calabria
Citra, situated on a rocky eminence. It is the
see of an archbishop, and the environs are fertile
in olives, capers, and saffron. It is said that, so
lately as the sixteenth century, the inhabitants of
this town (about 70,000) spoke the Greek lan-
guage, and followed the rites of the Greek church,
i hirty miles north-east of Cosenza, and 110
N.N. E. of Regio.
ROS SOLIS, a spirituous liquor, composed of
burnt brandy, sugar, cinnamon, and milk ; and
sometimes perfumed with a little musk. It had
its name from being at first prepared from the
juice of the plant ros solis, or drosera.
ROSTOV, a town of European Russia, in the
government of Jaroslav, on the lake Nero. It
is divided into the town and suburb, and is above
five miles in circumference. It contains an an-
cient cathedral, an archieptscopal palace, a semi-
nary, and five churches ; and carries on a'i
intercourse with Astracan, Moscow, and St. Pe-
tersburg. Of the lower classes a number are
gardeners, and some of them go to Poland for
employment. Inhabitants 5000. Forty miles
S. S. W. of Jaroslav.
ROSTOV, a fortified town of the south-east of
European Russia, on the Don, between Azov
and Tscherkask.
ROSTRATED, adj. Lat. rottralta. Adorned
with beaks of ships.
He brought to Italy an hundred and ten rostrated
galleys of the fleet of Mithridates. Arbuthiwt.
ROSTRUM, TJ.J. Lat. rostrum. The scaf-
fold whence orators anciently harangued.
Vespasian erected a column in Rome, upon whose
top was the prow of a ship, in Latin rostrum, which
gave name to the common pleading place in Rome,
where orations were made, being built of the prows
of those ships of Antium which the Romans over-
threw. Peacham on Driiiring.
ROT
53
ROT
Myself shall mount the rostrum in his favour,
And strive to gain his pardon from the people.
Addison.
ROSTRUM, the beak, an important part of
the ancient ships of war, called by the Greeks
«/i/3o\ov, made of wood, fortified with brass, and
fastened to the prow so as to strike the enemy's
vessels and sink them. The first rostra were
long and high, but afterwards they were made
short and strong by the contrivance of Aristo, a
Corinthian : and placed so low that they could
pierce the enemy s ships under water. Also a
part of the Roman forum, wherein orations,
pleadings, funeral harangues, &c., were delivered.
The rostrum was a kind of chapel, furnished
with a suggestum, or eminence, where the orator
stood to speak. It was so called because at first
adorned with the rostra or beaks of the ships
taken from the Antialae in the first naval victory
obtained by the Romans.
ROT, v. 7i., v. a., & n. s. ^ Saxon, noran ;
ROT'TEN, adj. > Belg. and Swed.
ROT'TENNESS, n. x. j rotten. To putrefy ;
lose the cohesion of parts : make putrid : putri-
dity ; a disease among sheep : rotten and rotten-
ness corresponding in sense.
Who brass as rotten wood ; and steel no more
Regards than weeds. Sandi/s's Paraphrase.
They were left moiled with dirt and mire, by rea-
son of the deepness of the rotten way.
Knolles's History of the Turks.
A man may rot even here. Shahspeare.
From hour to hour we ripe and ripe,
And then from hour to hour we rot and rot. Id.
Trust not to ratten planks. Id.
O blus-breeding sun, drawn from the earth
Rotten humidity ; below thy sister's orb
Infect the air. Id. Timon.
Diseased ventures,
That play with all infirmities for gold,
VVhich rottenness lends nature ! Shakspeare.
No wood shone that was cut down alive, but such
as was rotted in stock and root while it grew.
Bacon .
There is by invitation or excitation ; as when a
-otten apple lieth close to another apple that is
sound ; or when dung, which is already putrefied, is
added to other bodies. Id.
In an unlucky grange, the sheep died of the rot,
the swine of the mange, and not a goose or duckling
throve. Ben Jonson.
They overwhelm their panch daily with a kind of
flat rotgut, we with a bitter dreggish small liquor.
Harvey.
The cattle must of rot and murrain die. Milton.
The wool of Ireland suffers under no defect, the
country being generally full-stocked with sheep, and
the soil little subject to other rot* than of hunger.
Temple.
Frowning Auster seeks the southern sphere,
And rot*, with endless rain, the' unwholesome year.
Dryden.
They serewood from the rotten hedges took,
And seeds of latent fire from flints provoke. Id.
Brandy scarce prevents the sudden rot
Of freezing nose and quick decaying feet. Philips.
Being more nearly exposed to the air and weather,
the bodies of the animals would suddenly corrupt and
rot ; the bones would likewise all rot in time, except
those which were secured by the extraordinary
strength of their parts. Woodward.
If the matter stiik and be oily, it is a certain sign
of rottenness. tl'i*rmaii'i, Surgery.
Ror, a well known disease in the liver of sheep,
and other domestic animals, producing general
marasmus, and generally evinced by the existence
of large quantities of the liver fluke, or fasciola
hepatica, in this organ. It has been ascribed tc
a variety of causes : yet the real cause is still
doubtful. See SHEEP.
ROTA, a town in Andalusia, Spain, situated
on the north side of Cadiz Bay. It has a
castle and monastery, but is most remarkable for
the wine which is produced on the hills around.
It is called in England tent, and is considered
one of the best kinds produced in the peninsula.
Inhabitants 6000. Seven miles N. N. W. of
Cadiz.
ROTA ARISTOTEUCA, or Aristotle's Wheel,
a name given to a celebrated problem in me-
chanics concerning the motion or rotation of a
wheel about its axis ; so called because first
noticed by Aristotle. The difficulty is this :
while a circle makes a revolution on its centre,
advancing at the same time in a right line along
a plane, it describes, on that plane, a right line
which is equal to its circumference. Now, if
this circle, which may be called the deferent,
carry with it another smaller circle, concentric
with it, like the nave of a coach wheel ; then thi>
little circle, or nave, will describe a line in the
time of the revolution which shall be equal to
that of the large wheel or circumference itself;
because its centre advances in a right line as fast
as that of the wheel does, being in reality the
same with it. The solution given by Aristotle
is no more than a good explication of the diffi-
culty. The great Galileo next attempted it, but
failed, as did also Tacquet, with no better suc-
cess. After the fruitless attempts of so many
great men, M. Dortous de Meyran, a French
gentleman, sent a solution to the Academy of
Sciences ; which being examined by Messrs de
Louville and Soulmon appointed for that pur-
pose, they made their report that it was satisfac-
tory. The solution, is to this effect : the wheel
of a coach is only acted on, or drawn in a right
line; its rotation or circular motion arises purely
from the resistance of the ground upon which it
is applied. Now this resistance is equal to the
force which draws the wheel in the right line,
inasmuch as it defeats that direction ; of conse-
quence the causes of the two motions, the one
right and the other circular, are equal. And
hence the wheel describes a right line on the
ground equal to its circumference. As for the
nave of the wheel, the case is otherwise. It is
drawn in a right line by the same force as the
wheel ; but it only turns round because the
wheel does so, and can only turn in the same
time with it. Hence it follows, that its circular
velocity is less than that of the wheel, in the
ratio of the two circumferences ; and, therefore,
its circular motion is less than the rectilinear one.
Since then it necessarily describes a right line
eq.ual to that of the wheel, it can only do it partly
by sliding, and partly by revolving, the sliding
part being more or less as the nave itself is
smaller or larger.
ROTA LA, in botany; a genus of the mono-
gynia order and triandria class of plants : TAI
tridentate: COR. none: CAPS, trilocular and poly
ROT
54
ROT
spermous. Species one only ; an annual of the
East Indies.
ROTARI (Peter), an eminent Italian painter
of history and portraits, born at Verona about
1727. In 1756 he went to Petersburg, where he
painted the empress Catharine II. and others of
the imperial family.
ROTARY, adj. } Lat. rota. Whirling as
ROTA'TION, n. s. > a wheel : the act or state
ROTA'TOR. J of whirling : that which
gives a circular motion.
Of this kind is some disposition of bodies to rota-
tion from east to west ; as the main float and re-
float of the sea, by consent of the universe as part of
the diurnal motion. Bacon.
By a kind of circulation or rotation, arts have their
successive invention, perfection, and traduction from
one people to another. Hale.
The axle-trees of chariots take fire by the rapid ro-
tation of the wheels. Newton'i Optics.
This articulation is strengthened by strong mus-
cles ; on the inside by the triceps and the four little
rotators. Wiseman.
In fond rotation spread the spotted wing,
And shiver every feather with desire. Thomson.
ROTATION is a term which expresses the mo-
tion of the different parts of a solid body round
an axis, and distinct from the progressive motion
which it may have in its revolution round a dis-
tant point. The earth has a rotation round its
axis, which produces the vicissitudes of day and
night; while its revolution round the sun, com-
bined with the obliquity of the equator, produces
the varieties of summer and winter. The me-
chanism of this kind of motion, or the relation
which subsists between the intensity of the mov-
ing forces, modified as it may be by the manner
of application and the velocity of rotation, is
highly interesting, both to the speculative philo-
sopher and to the practical engineer. The pre-
cession of the equinoxes, and many other astro-
nomical problems of great importance and diffi-
culty, receive their solutions from this quarter:
and the actual performance of our most valuable
machines cannot be ascertained by the mere
principles of equilibrium, but require a previous
acquaintance with certain general propositions of
rotatory motion. When a solid body turns
round an axis, retaining its shape and dimen-
sions, every particle is actually describing
a circle round this axis, and the axis passes
through the centre of the circle, and is perpendi-
cular to its plane. In any instant of the motion,
the particle is moving at right angles with the
radius vector, or line joining it with its centre
of rotation. This subject is by no means a
speculation of mere curiosity, interesting to none
but mathematicians : one of the noblest arts prac-
tised by man is capable of receiving very great
improvement from a complete knowledge of it ;
we mean the art of Seamanship. The conside-
ration of it, therefore, might be pursued to a
considerable extent — but few professional seamen
have the preparatory knowledge accessary for the
purpose. m
i.'< )TK, n. a. Sax. not, merry; old Fr. ;<•/<•.
A harp ; a lyre. Obsolete : Fr. roulim
to bo the origin of rote, mere memory.
\Vcle routli he : in;_', and |'l;iycn on a n.u.
('Auurcr.
Worthy of great Phoebus' role,
The triumphs of Phlegrasan Jove he wrote,
That all the gods admired his lofty note. Spenser.
First rehearse this song by role,
To each word a warbling note. Shakspeare.
Speak to the people-
Words rated in your tongue ; bastards and syllables
Of no allowance to your bosom's truth. Id.
He rather saith it by rote to himself, than that he
can thoroughly believe it. Bacon's Essays.
All this he understood by rote,
And as occasion served would quote. Hvdibras.
Learn Aristotle's rules by rate,
And at all hazards boldly quote. Swift.
ROTHENBURG ON THE TAUBER, an old
town of Bavarian Franconia, on a mountain near
the Tauber. It has a high school and a public
library, said to contain valuable manuscripts.
It .contains, also, a square and several public
buildings : the water in the fountains is raised
by machinery from the river. Population 5700.
Twenty-eight miles S. S. E. of Wurzburg.
ROTHERAM, or ROTHERHAM, a market-
town and parish of the West Riding of York,
situated near the conflux of the Rotherand Don,
six miles north-east of Sheffield and 158 from
London. The principal manufactures are those
of iron and steel, and there is a very extensive
brewery. At the village of Masborough, sepa-
pated from this town by a bridge, there are very
extensive manufactories of all kinds of cast and
wrought iron, and also of tinned plates and
steel goods. The coal and iron are chiefly sup-
plied from mines in the neighbourhood. The
trade of Rotherham is materially assisted by the
navigation of the Don. The streets are narrow
and irregular and the church is a large building
in the form of a cross. It had formerly an ancient
chapel on the bridge over the Don. In the town
are also two chapels for dissenters, a charity-
school, and the Rotherham Independent Aca-
demy, for the education of young men proposing
to become independent clergymen. Rotherham
market is one of the most considerable in York-
shire for fat cattle and sheep. Here is a com-
mercial bank. Market on Monday.
ROTHERAM, or ROTHERHAM (John), M. I).,
a celebrated English physician, the son of a dis-
senting clergyman, tutor of an academy at Ren-
da!, where he was born in 1719. Under his
father's instructions he acquired classical learn-
ing, and a very general knowledge of the sciences.
In 1740 he was sent to the University of Edin-
burgh, where professor M'Laurin, observing his
talents, advised him to give a course of lectures
on experimental philosophy. These lectures
were well attended ; and the profits were devoted
to the Royal Infirmary, then building in that
city. After this he went to London, studied
under Dr. Smellie ; and then began practice at
Hexham; but soon after settled at Newcastle,
where he was highly respected. In 1770 he
published a work, entitled A Philosophical En-
quiry into the Nature and Properties of Water,
wherein he gave an analysis of the Newcastle
and many other waters. Ho married Catharine,
daughter of Nicholas Huberts, F.sq., of Hexliam,
whom he left a widow with seven children,
dying on the 18th of March, 17»7, aged •>ixly-
ROT &
ROTH ES AY, or ROTHSAY, formerly a borough
of Scotland, capital of the island and county
of Bute. It is well built, and excellently
situated for commerce, having a good har-
bour with a safe anchorage at the bottom of
an extensive bay, on the north-west side of the
island ; opposite to Loch Steven in Cowal. It
was erected into a royal borough in 1400, by
king Robert III., when its castle was the royal
residence. It was then a considerable town, but
afterwards declined greatly; so that in 1762
many of the houses were in ruins, and it had
only one decked vessel, of no great burden. But
under the auspices of the earls of Bute it has
rapidly improved. A large cotton mill was
erected in 1778. This borough united with Ayr,
Irvine, Inverary,&c., in electing a representative,
but is now deemed part of Bute. Duke of
Rothesay was anciently a title of the prince of
Scotland, and was accompanied with suitable
revenues, powers, and privileges; and is stilJ
one of the titles of the prince of Wales. The
only relic of antiquity in this place is the
castle, the remains of \vhich are so completely
covered with ivy that its walls are hardly visi-
ble. The natives still point out the banqueting
rooms, and bed-chambers of king Robert II.
and III. who inhabited it. It afterwards became
the chief residence of the Stuarts till 1685, when
it was ournt by the duke of Argyle. It lies
seventy miles west of Edinburgh.
ROTH MAN (Christopher), a learned German
astronomer of the sixteenth century. He became
astronomer to the landgrave of Hesse. He wrote
A Treatise on Comets ; and Letters on Astro-
nomy to Tycho Brahe. He died in 1592.
ROTSCHEN-SALM. a sea-port of the Gulf
of Finland, at the mouth of the Kymmene, ele-
ven miles W. S. W. of Fredericksham. It has
a harbour capable of containing the whole fleet
of Russian galleys, and forty ships of the line,
and is defended by two forts.
ROTTENSTONE, a mineral found in Der-
byshire and used by mechanics for all sorts of
finer grinding and polishing, and sometimes for
cutting of stones. It is a species of tripoli.
ROTTERDAM, an important commercial
city of Holland, on the Maese, which here re-
sembles an arm of the sea. Its plan is triangu-
lar, the longest side (above a mile and a half in
extent), stretching along the bank of the Maese,
at about twenty miles from its mouth. The
town is surrounded by a moat, and entered by
six gates towards the land, and four towards the
water, but has no fortifications. It is also tra-
versed from north to west by the Rotte, a river,
or broad canal, which here joins the Maese,
and which seems to give name to the city. It
is further intersected more than most other towns
in Holland, by canals, which divide the half of
the town near the river into several insulated
spots connected by bridges. Thus, the first
stately row of houses facing the Maese, and
called the Bootntjes, has behind it a broad and
deep canal, parallel to the river. This section is
succeeded by a triangular, and next by an ob-
ong division, each containing several streets and
quays. Large vessels unload in two great inlets
from the Maese, one stretching to the west, and
) ROT
the other to the north. South-east of the town
are two canals, with a basin and dock for the re-
pair of shipping.
The canals are almost all bordered with trees.
Next to the Boomtjes comes the Haring-vliet
The other streets are in general long and narrow,
and several of them so similar that a stranger
has much difficulty in distinguishing them. The
houses are convenient, and the peculiar style of
Dutch architecture is here usually prevalent.
In many the ground floor is not inhabited, but
serves with its gate and arched passage as an
entrance to the warehouses. The principal
public buildings are the exchange (finished in
1736), the church of St. Lawrence, from the top
of which may be seen the Hague to the north-
west, Leyden to the north, and Dort to the
south-east; the old town-house, the admiralty,
the , academy, the theatre, and the extensive
buildings of the East India Company. Rotter-
dam contains also several commodious market-
places, an English Episcopal and a Scotch Pres-
byterian church. Of scientific collections, it
has a cabinet of antiquities, a cabinet of natural
history, and a public library. It has also an
academy of sciences, instituted in 1771. Rot-
terdam, as a commercial city, has superior
accommodation to Amsterdam, the Maese being
open, and the passage free from ice, earlier than
in the Zuyder Zee, and a single tide sufficing to
carry vessels to the German Ocean. It became
a privileged town, and was surrounded with
walls, as early as the thirteenth century, owing,
like other towns in Holland and, Flanders, its
increase to the facility of communicating by water
not only with the sea, but with the interior. The
time of its greatest prosperity was the seven-
teenth and eighteenth centuries ; but after 1 795
the invasion of the French, and the war with
England suspended the commerce of Holland.
It had begun to recover in 1802, when it was
again rapidly depressed by the renewal of war ;
but has recently revived once more. The fol-
lowing is a list of the ports from which most of
the vessels arrived in 1817 : —
Riga . .
London
Harwich .
Petersburgh
Libau . .
Newcastle ,
Bergen . .
272
253
110
90
73
62
45
Dantzic .
Hull . .
Kiel . .
Archangel
Lisbon .
Bourdeaux
Hamburgh
31
28
22
20
16
15
10
Here, as at Amsterdam, the far greater pro-
portion of tonnage is employed in transporting
the commodities of the Baltic, viz. corn, timber,
flax, and hemp. In value, however, the mer-
chandise from England, consisting of hardware,
cottons, woollens, and other manufactures,
exceeds the imports of any other country.
From France the chief imports are wine and
brandy ; and the trade with Brasil, as well as
with Spanish America, is becoming more and
more considerable. Population about 63,000.
Fourteen miles south-east of the Hague, and
thirty-six south by west of Amsterdam.
ROTUND', adj. ) FT. rotonde ; Lat. rotun-
ROTIN'DITY, TI. s. S dits. Round ; circular;
spherical : the noun substantive corresponding.
ROU
Thou, all-shaking thunder,
Strike flat the thick rotundity o' the* world.
With the rotundity common to the atoms of all
fluids there is some difference in bulk, else all fluids
would be alike in weiffht. Grew.
Who would part with these solid blessings for the
Jittle fantastical pleasantness of a smooth convexity
and rotundity of a globe ? Rentiers Sermons.
The cross figure of the Christian temples is more
proper for spacious buildings than the rotund of the
heathen : the eye is much better tilled at first enter-
ing the refund, but such as are built in the form of
a cross give us a greater variety. Additon.
Rotundity is an emblem of eternity, that has
neither beginning nor end. Id. on Medalt.
ROVE, v. n. &, v. a. t Danish rtiffver, to
RO'VER, n. s. ] range for plunder. To
ramble ; range ; wander : wander over : a rover is,
a wanderer ; a robber ; pirate : at rover is an obso-
lete phrase for at random, without particular aim.
Thou'st years upon thee, and thou art too full
Of the wars surfeits, to go rave with one
That's yet unbruised. Shakspeare. Coriolanus.
This is the case of rovers by land, as some cantons
in Arabia. Bacon's Holy War.
Roving the field, I chanced
A goodly tree far distant to behold,
Loaden with fruit of fairest colors. Milton.
Nature shoots not at roiert; even inanimates,
though they know not their perfection, yet are they
not carried on by a blind unguided impetus ; but
that which directs them knows it. Glanville't Scepsis.
^rovidence never shoots at rovers : there is an ar-
row that flies by night as well as by day, and God
is the person that shoots it. South s Sermons.
Men of great reading shew their talents on the
meanest subjects ; this is a kind of shooting at rovert.
Additon.
Cloacina, as the town she roved
A mortal scavenger she saw, she loved. Gay.
Faultless thou dropt from his unerring skill,
With the bare power to sin, since free of will ;
Yet charge not with thy guilt his bounteous love,
For who has power to walk has power to rooe.
Arbuthnot.
I viewed the' effects of that disastrous flame,
Which, kindled by the' imperious queen of love,
Constrained me from my native realms to rove.
Pope.
If we indulge the frequent rise and roving of pas-
sions, we thereby procure an unattentive habit.
Watts.
ROUBILLIAC (Louis Francis), an eminent
modern sculptor, a native of France, who settled
in England in the reign of George I. ; and long
stood at the head of his profession. He executed
a statue of Handel for Vauxhall, and another of
Sir Isaac Newton for Trinity College, Cam-
bridge; but was chiefly employed on sepulchral
monuments, among which may be mentioned
that of John duke of Argyle in Westminster-
abbey ; of George I., and of the duke of Somer-
set, in the senate-house at Cambridge ; and his
monuments for the duke and duchess of Mon-
tagu, at Warkton, in Northamptonshire. Lord
Chesterfield said, ' Roubilliac was our only
statuary, and that otbor artists were mere stone-
cutters.' He had some talent for poetry, and
wrote some tolerable French satires. His death
took place January 1 1, 1762, at his residence in
iSt. Martin's Lane.
.o ROV
ROUEN, a large and populous city in the
north of France, once the capital of Normandy,
at present of the department of the Lower
Seine (see NORMANDY), is situated on the right
bank of the Seine, in a fertile and pleasant
country. Its form is an irregular oval, two miles
in length and in one breadth. The streets, though
in general straight, are very narrow, so that here
is no room for foot pavement ; and, as the French
have not yet adopted the plan of underground
sewers, the eye is constantly offended with a
stream of filth running along the middle of the
street. A number of houses are of wood, built
in an antiquated style, the walls often projecting
as they ascend. The most agreeable part of the
town is that which adjoins the Seine, the quays
being spacious, and bordered with good houses,
while the river and its islands, with the beautiful
' Cours,' a walk extending along the opposite
bank, the esplanade, and the neighbouring hill of
St. Catherine, about 400 feet high, form an as-
semblage of pleasant objects. The squares arc
small and insignificant; the one called the
Marche aux Veaux contains the statue of the
warlike maid of Orleans, who was burned here
by the English, as a sorceress, in 1430. The
ramparts, being levelled and lined with trees, con-
tain pleasant walks ; and the public roads lead-
ing to Paris, Havre, and other places, are bordered
with trees. The objects of antiquarian research
in this city have engaged our attention in th«
article already referred to. The town-house, or
municipality, is the chief civil edifice worth no-
tice ; and the barracks are large and commodious.
The great hospital is a handsome modern build-
ing ; and in public markets Rouen is not in-
ferior to any city of France. Of the curiosities
of the place, the most interesting, perhaps, is
the bridge of boats over the Seine. Rouen is
celebrated for its cotton manufactures, but
here, as in other parts of France, the goods are
less remarkable for taste in the pattern than du-
rability. Rouen has likewise manufactures of
woollens, linens, and, to a smaller extent, of
paper, iron ware, hats, pottery, wax cloth ; also
sugar refineries. Dyeing both of woollen and
cotton is also conducted with care and success.
The whole of its manufacturing industry is com-
puted to give employment to 50,000 persons,
young and old. The great disadvantages of
Rouen are the want of fuel, and the dearness of
provisions: at the distance of 100 miles to the
westward the family of a workman can be sup-
ported at a reduction of thirty per cent. But,
during the exclusion of British commerce under
Buonaparte, it flourished largely ; particularly
considering its further disadvantage in point of
navigation. It is forty-five miles east of Havre,
and eighty W. N. W. of Paris.
ROVEREDO, a large and fine town of the
Tyrol, Austria, on the left bank of the Adige, was
once subject to Venice; but since 1509 it lias
been under the protection of the empire, and
enjoyed privileges which soon made it a staple
for the silk manufacture. This branch of in-
dustry was at its height about the middle o
the eighteenth century. The environs produce
tobacco, which, as well as the leather of t' •
town, forms an article of export. There are n«
ROU
57
ROU
public edifices of consequence, hut Roveredo is
a well built town, and Uie marble found in the
vicinity has been much used in the construction
of the houses. Twenty-eight miles north of Ve-
mna, and twelve south by west of Trent.
ROUGE', n.n. 1 r. rouge. Red paint.
ROUGH, adj. ~] Saxon, pnupse ;
ROUGH'CAST, v. a. & n. s. Swed. rugg ; Goth.
ROI'GH'DUAI r, n. s. . hrock. Rugged;
ROUGII'DRAW, v. n. of unequal sur-
ROUGH'EN, v. a. & v. n. 1 face ; coarse ;
ROIGH'HEW, v. a. I hairy; hence
ROUGH'HEWX, part. adj. harsh; severe;
ROIGH'LY, adv. rude; terrible;
Roioii'xESS, n.s. stormy: roughcast
ROUGH'WORK. J is, a rude model,
or a kind of rough plaster mixed with pebbles :
to roughcast is, to mould or form in a rough way :
rough-draft, rough-draw, and roughwork, are of
similar signification: to roughen is, to* make or
grow rough : the adverb and noun substantive
corresponding.
\<; .Mammon would there let him long remain,
Vor terror of the torments manifold,
In which the damned souls he did behold,
Jiut rouyhly him bespake. Spenser.
A tiend, a fury, pitiless and rough,
A wolf : nay worse, a fellow all in buff.
Shakspeare.
Come what come may,
Time and the hour run through the roughest day.
Id.
Some man must present a wall ; and let him have
some plaster, lome, or roughcast about him to signify
wall. Id.
There's a divinity that shapes our ends,
R,>ughhew them how we will. Id. Hamlet.
Rebuked, and roughlu sent to prison,
The immediate heir of England ! was this easy ?
bhaltspeare.
A rouyhhewn seaman, being brought before a jus-
tice for some misdemeanour, was by him ordered
away to prison ; and would not stir ; saying, it Was
better to stand where he was, than to go to a worse
place. Bacon's Apopbtkegau.
Roughness is a needless cause of discontent ; se-
verity breedcth fear ; but roughness breedeth hate ;
even reproofs from authority ought to be grave and
not taunting. Bacon.
Nor bodily, nor ghostly negro could
Roughcast thy figure in a sadder mould. Cleaceland.
The whole piece seems rather a loose model and
roughcast of what I design to do, than a complete
work. Digby.
I hope to obtain a candid construction of this
roiishheicn ill timbered discourse. Howel.
Strait with a band of soldiers tall and rough
On him he seizes. Cuu-leu't Davideii.
When our minds' eyes are disengaged,
They quicken sloth, perplexities unty,
Make roughness smooth, and hardness mollify.
Denham.
He gave not the king time to prosecute that
gracious method, but forced him to a quicker and
rougher remedy. Clarendon.
The fiend
O'er bog, or steep, through strait, rough, dense, pr
rare,
Pursues his way. Milton.
Before the cloudy van,
In the rough edge of battle ere it joined,
. i an advanced. Id.
The whole world, without art and dress,
'Would be but one great yvilderness,
And mankind but a savage herd,
For all that nature has conferred •
This does but roughhew and design,
Leaves art to polish and refine, Hudibrai.
Divers plants contain a grateful sharpness ; as
lemons ; or an austere and inconcocted nwyhnesi, as
sloes. Browne.
The little roughness** or other inequalities of the
leather agains* the cavity of the cylinder, now and
then put a stop to the descent or ascent of the
sucker. Boyle.
A ropy chain of rheums, a visage rough,
Deformed, unfeatured, and a skin of buff. Dryden.
In merriment they weie first practised, and this
r<mghcast unhewn poetry was instead of stage plays
for one hundred and twenty years. Id.
.Mv elder brothers came
Roughilrauglita of nature, ill designed and lame,
Blown off, like blossoms never made to bear;
Till I came finished, her last laboured care. Id.
His victories we scarce could keep in view,
Or polish them so fast as he rovghdrew. Id.
Such difference there is in tongues, that the same
figure, which roughens one, gives majesty to another ;
and that was it which Virgil studied in his verses.
When the diamond is not only found, but the
roughness smoothed, cut into a form, and set in gold,
then we cannot but acknowledge that it is the per-
fect work of art and nature. Id.
Kind words prevent a good deal of that perverse-
ness which rough and imperious usage often produces
in generous minds. ' """•'
Thus you must continue, till you have rough-
wnntght all your work from end to end.
MOIOH'S Mecliuinctil Exercises.
A tobacco-pipe broke in my mouth, and the spit-
ting out the pieces left such a delicious roughness on
my tongue, that I champed up the remaining part.
Spectator.
Roughness of temper is apt to discountenance the
timorous or modest. Addison.
Were the mountains taken all away, the remaining
parts would be more unequal than the roughest sea ;
whereas the face of the earth should resemble that of
the calmest sea, if still in the form of its first mass.
Burnet's Theory.
The booby Phaon only was unkind,
A surly boatman rough as sea and wind. Prior.
Such a persuasion as this well fixed, will smooth
all the roughness of the way that leads to happiness,
and render all the conflicts with our lusts pleasing.
Atterbury.
Hippocrates seldom mentiofls the doses of his me-
dicines, which is somewhat surprising, because his
purgatives are generally very rough and strong.
Arbuthnot on Coint
Most by the numbers judge a poet's song,
And smooth or rough with them is right or wrong.
Pope.
Ah ! where must needy poet seek for aid,
When dust and rain at once his coat invade 1
His only coat ; when dust confused with rain,
Roughens the nap, and leaves a mingled stain.
Stcift.
The Swedes, Danes, Germans, and Dutch attain
to the pronunciation of our words with ease because
our syllables resemble theirs in roughnets and fre-
quency of consonants. Id.
The broken landskip,
Ascending, roughens into rigid hills. Thomson.
Then what was left of roughnes* in the grain
Of British natures, wanting its excuse
ROU
58
That it belongs to freemen, would disgust
And shock me. Camper.
ROVIGNO, a maritime town of Austrian
Illyria, on the coast of Istria. It is built on a
rock, which forms two good harbours ; but that
nearest the town is not considered secure, and
is resorted to chiefly by boats and barges. Ro-
vigno is only a mile in circumference, but very
populous, containing 10,000 inhabitants, whose
chief employments are the pilchard fishery,
ship-building, and the sale of wood. The envi-
rons produce olive oil and wine, and beautiful
marble. Forty miles south of Trieste, and
thirty-seven south-west of Fiume.
ROVIGO, a district of Austrian Italy,
bounded by the delegations of Venice, Padua,
Verona and Mantua, and separated by the Po
from the States of the Church. Its superficial
extent is about 550 square miles, traversed by
a number of rivers ; and in many places marshy
and unhealthy. It is, however, fertile through-
out, the marshes producing fine crops of rice ;
maize, flax, hemp, and silk, are the other ob-
jects of culture. The number of black cattle
and horses reared is also large. This district
was formerly called Polesino di Rovigo, from
the number of canals by which it is intersected.
In 1806 the title of duke of Rovigo was given
by Buonaparte to Savary, his minister of police.
Population 63,000.
ROVIGO, the capital of the above district, is
situated on the Adigetto, a branch of the Adige,
and surrounded with a wall and moat : to the
east is a fortified castle. The Palazzo del Po-
desta, the former residence of the chief magis-
trate, is situated in a large square, the principal
ornament of which is a pillar of stone. The
churches here are not worthy of notice. The
town is the residence of the bishop of Adria.
Population 9000. Eighteen miles N. N.E. of
Ferrara, and thirty-five S.S.W. of Venice.
ROUILLE (Peter Julian), a learned French
Jesuit, born at Tours, in 1681. He assisted
father Catrou in writing the Roman History, in
21 vols. 4to., and died in Paris in 1740, aged
fifty-nine.
ROULERS, a considerable town of the Ne-
therlands, in West Flanders, situated on the
Mandel. It has a linen manufacture, the prin-
cipal product of the surrounding district being
flax. The adjacent pastures are rich, and the
breed of cattle good : butter is a large article of
export. There is here a central school, with eight
teachers. Twelve miles N.N. E. of Ypres, and
eighteen south of Bruges.
ROUN'CEVAL, n. s. From Roncesval. a
town at the foot of the Pyrenees. A species of
pea.
Dig garden,
And set as a daintie thy runcival pease. Tuuer.
ROUND, adj., n. »., v. a., v. n.,^\ Yr.rande;
RouND'-ABOUT,od;. \udv. Siprep. Ital. rondo;
ROUND'EL, n. s. Teut. Sw.
ROUND'ER, and Dan.
ROUND'-HEAD, n. *. \~rund; Sp.
ROUND'HOUSE, redondo.
ROUMMSH, </(/'/. Circular;
It'n M.'I v, adv. \ spherical;
Ror.M>'xi>s 'i. s. J without
angles ; smooth : hence unbroken ; plain ; clear ;
candid ; free ; quick ; brisk : a round is a circle
or circular body ; a revolution ; rotation ; step of
a ladder ; the rotary walk of an officer, or soldier,
on guard : to round is to make circular or spheri-
cal; to divest of angles ; mould to smoothness;
raise into relief; move around ; surround ; encir-
cle: as a verb neuter, to grow or become round
in form; go round : round, as an adverb, signi-
fies every way ; in a revolution or rotation ; cir-
cuitously : as a preposition, about; on every side
of; all over: roundel is a round form or figure:
rounder, an enclosure ; circumvallation : round-
head, the old nick-name of the Puritans, from
their practice of cropping the hair : round-house,
a kind of watch-house : roundish, roundly, and
roundness, follow the senses of round, adjective.
The terror of God was upon the cities round about.
Genesis.
The whole period and compass of this speech was
delightsome for the roundness, and grave for the
strangeness. Spenser.
She called for a round sum out of the privy purse.
Hooker.
Inioin gainsayers, giving them roundly to under-
stand that where our duty is submission, weak oppo-
sitions betoken pride. Id.
Three thousand ducats! 'tis a good round sum.
Shakspeare.
Let his queen mother all alone intreat him
To shew his griefs ; let her be round with him. Id.
Hie thee hither,
That I may pour my spirits in thine ear,
And chastise with the valour of my tongue
All that impedes thee from the golden round,
Which fate and metaphysick aid doth seem
To have crowned thee withal. Id.
I'll charm the air to give a sound,
While you perform your antick round. Id.
Whence he once attains the upmost round,
He then unto the ladder turns his back,
Looks in the clouds, scorning the base degrees
By which he did ascend. - Id.
We are such stuff
As dreams are made on, and our little life
Is rmtnded with a sleep. Id. Tempest.
This distempered messenger of wet,
The many-coloured Iris, rounds thine eyes.
Shakspeare.
If you fondly pass our proffered offer,
'Tis not the runnier of your old faced walls
Can hide you from our messengers of war. Id.
I was called any thing, and I would have done
any thing indeed too, and roundly too. Id.
You'll prove a jolly surly groom,
That take it on you at the first so roundly. Id.
The queen, your mother, rounds apace ; we shall
Present our services to a fine new prince. Id.
Round dealing is the honour of man's nature ; and
a mixture of falsehood is alike allay in gold and
silver, which may make the metal work the better,
but it embaseth it. Racon.
Worms with many feet, which round themselves
into balls, are bred chiefly under logs of timber. Id.
The Spaniards, casting themselves into roundels,
and their strongest ships walling in the rest, made a
flying march to Calais. Id.
Hirsute roots are a middle sort between the bul-
bous and fibrous ; that, besides the putting forth sap
upwards and downwards, putteth forth in round.
Id.
All sounds whatsoever move round; that is, on
ROU t
ail sides, upwards, downwards, forwards, and back-
wards. Id.
This lord justice caused the earl of Kildare to be
arrested, and cancelled such charters as were lately
resumed, and proceeded every way so roundly and
severely as the nobility did much distaste him.
Daviet on Ireland.
Mr. de Mortier roundly said that, to cut off all
contentions of words, he would propose two means
for peace. . Hayu-ard.
In his satyrs Horace is quick, round, and pleasant,
and has nothing so bitter, so not so good as Juvenal.
Peuchum.
A gentle round filled to the brink,
To this and t'other friend I drink. Suckling.
3 ROU
When the mind has brought itself to attention, it
will be able to cope with difficulties, and master
them, and then it may go on roundly. Id.
With the cleaving-knife and mawl split the stuff
into a square piece near the size, and with the draw-
knife round off the edges to make it fit for the lathe.
Mo.riw .
How then to drag a wretched life beneath
An endless round of still returning woes,
And all the gnawing pangs of vain remorse'!
What torment's this! Smith.
This is the last stage of human perfection, the ut-
most round of the ladder whereby we ascend to hea-
ven. Norru.
Your petitioner always kept hospitality, and drank
Such new Utopians would have a round of govern- confusion to the roundhead*. Spectator.
ment, as some the like in the church, in which every
spoak becomes uppermost in his turn. Holyday.
No end can to this be found,
Tis nought but a perpetual fruitless round. Cowley.
He did foretel and prophesy of him,
Who to his realms that azure round hath joined.
Denharn.
Hollow engines, long and round, thick rammed.
Milton.
The outside bare of this round world. Id.
Knit your hands, and beat the ground
In a light fantastick round. Id.
In darkness and with dangers compassed round. Id.
One foot he centered, and the other turned
Round through the vast profundity obscure. Id.
To those beyond the polar circle, day
Had unbenighted shone, while the low sun,
To recompence his distance, in your sight
Had rounded still the' horizon, and not known
The east or west. Id. Paradise Lost.
They keep watch, or nightly rounding walk.
The queen of night,
In her increasing homes, doth rounder grow,
Till full and perfect she appeare in show. Browne.
His style, though round and comprehensive, was
incumbered sometimes by parentheses, and became
difficult to vulgar understandings. Fell.
From a world of phenomena, there is a principle
that acts out of wisdom and counsel, as was abun-
dantly evidenced, and as roundly acknowledged.
Afi) re's Divine Dialogues.
It is not every small crack that can make such a
receiver, as is of a roundish figure, useless to our ex-
periment. Boyle.
Painting is a long pilgrimage ; if we do not actually
begin the journey, and travel at a round rate, we
shall never arrive at the end of it. Dryden.
They meet, they wheel, they throw their darts afar ;
Then in a round the mingled bodies run ;
Hying they follow, and pursuing shun. Id.
All the rounds like Jacob's ladder rise ;
i he lowest hid in earth, the topmost in the skies.
Id.
Round the world we roam,
Forced frpm our pleasing fields and native home.
Id.
If nothing will please people, unless they be
greater than nature intended, what can they ex-
pect, but the ass's round of vexatious changes 1
L'Estrange.
Those sincerely follow reason, but for want of
having large, sound, roundabout sense, have not a full
view of all that relates to the question.
Locke mi Understanding.
When silver has been lessened in any piece carry-
ing the public stamp, by clipping, washing, or rnund-
the laws have dcclaicd it not to be lawful money.
' I^cke.
They set a round price upon your head.
It is not easy to foresee what a round sum of money
may do among a people who have tamely suffered
the Franche Compte to be seized on.
Id. Remarks on Italy.
Sir Roger heard them upon a round trot.
Addison.
The mouth of Vesuvius has four hundred yards in
diameter ; for it seems a perfect round. Id.
Some preachers, prepared only upon two or three
points, run the same round from one end of the year
to another. Id.
The figures on our modern medals are raised and
rounded to a very great perfection. Id.
He affirms every thing roundly, without any art,
rhetorick, or circumlocution. Id. C. Tariff.
Many are kicked down ere they have climbed the
two or three first rounds of the ladder.
(jovernmeiit uf the Tongue.
At the best 'tis but cunning ; and, if he can in his
own fancy raise that to the opinion of true wisdom,
he comes round to practise his deceits upon himself.
Till by one countless sum of woes opprest,
Hoary with cares, and ignorant of rest,
We find the vital springs relaxed and worn ;
Compelled our common impotence to mourn.
Thus through the round of age to childhood we re-
turn. Prior.
The vilest cockle gaping on the coast,
That rounds the ample sea. Id.
Bracelets of pearl gave roundness to her arm,
And every gem augmented every charm. Id.
Pliny put a round number near the truth, rather
than a fraction. Arbuthnot on Coins.
Women to cards may be compared ; we play
A round or two ; when used, we throw away.
Granville.
Paraphrase is a roundabout way of translating, in-
vented to help the barrenness, which translators,
overlooking in themselves, have apprehended in our
tongue. Felton.
Can any one tell how the sun, planets, and satel-
lites were rounded into their particular spheroidical
orbs i. Cheyne.
If merely to come in, Sir, they go out ;
The way they take is strangely rou/idaoout. Pope.
They marched to some famed roundhouse. Id.
These accomplishments, applied in the pulpit, ap-
pear by a quaint, terse, florid style, rounded into pe-
riods and cadences, without propriety or meaning.
Swift's Miscellanies.
Roundness is the primary essential mode or differ-
ence of a bowl. Wattis I^gick.
ROUND, v. n. Sax. rtuman ; Germ, runtn ,
whence Chaucer writes it roun To whisper
Obsolete
ROU 60
Being come to the supping place, one of Kalen-
der's servants rounded in his ear ; at which he re-
tired. Sidney.
They're here with me already ; whispering, round-
ing,
Sicilia is a so forth ; 'tis far gone. Shaktpeare.
Cicero was at dinner, where an ancient lady
said she was but forty : one that sat by rounded him
in the ear, she is far more out of the question :
Cicero answered, I must believe her, for I heard her
say so any time these ten years. .Bacon.
The fox rounds the new elect in the ear, with a
piece of secret service that he could do him.
L' Estrange*
ROUN'DEL, n. s. ( Fr. rondelet. A kind
ROUN'DELAY. J of poetry which com-
monly consists of thirteen verses, of which
eight are of one kind of rhyme and five of ano-
ther.
Siker, sike a roundle never heard I none,
Little lacket Perigot of the best,
And Willie is not greatly over-gone,
So weren his under-songs well addrest. Spenser.
To hear thy rimes and roundelayt,
Which thou wert wont in wasteful hills to sing,
I more delight than lark in summer days,
Whose echo made the neighbouring groves to ring.
Id.
Come now, a roundel and a fairy song.
Shakspeare.
The muses and graces made festivals ; the fawns,
satyrs, and nymphs did dance their roundelays.
Howel.
They listening heard him, while he searched the
grove,
And loudly sung his roundelay of love,
But on the sudden stopped. Dryden's Knight't Tale.
ROUNDS, in military matters, a detachment
from the main guard, of an officer or a non-com-
missioned officer and six men, who go round the
rampart of a garrison to listen if any thing be
stirring without the place, and to see the senti-
nels be diligent upon their duty, and all in order.
In strict garrisons the rounds go every half hour.
The sentinels are to challenge at a distance, and
to rest their armfc as the round passes. All
guards turn out, challenge, exchange the parole,
and rest their arms, &c.
ROUSE, n.s. Teut.rtwcA, half drunk. Hence
our word carouse. A dose of liquor rather too
large. Not in use.
They have given me a rouse already,
— Not past a pint as I am a soldier. Shakspeare.
No jocund health that Denmark drinks to-day,
>5ut the great cannon to the clouds shall tell ;
A nd the king's rouse shall bruit it back again,
Bespeaking earthly thunder. Id.
RousV, v. a., v. n.,&n. s. > Gothic reisa;
ROL'SER, n. t. { Swed. resa. See
RAISE. To wake up; wake from rest; excite
to action ; drive from a covert : as a verb neuter
to awake from slumber or inaction ; be excited :
a rouser is the agent or instrument of rousing.
He stooped down, he couched as a lion, and as an
old lion ; who shall ronse him up ' Gen. xlix. 9.
As an eagle, seeing prey appear,
His hairy plumes doth route full rudely dight ;
So shaked he, that horror was to hear.
Faerie Queene.
The blood more >tirs,
To route a lion, than to start a hare. Shakspeare.
ROU
Then rouse that heart of thine,
And whatsoever heretofore thou hast assumed to be,
This day be greater. Chapman. '
The unexpected sound
Of dogs and men his wakeful ear does wound ;
Roused with the noise, he scarce believes his ear,
Willing to think the illusions of his fear
Had given this false alarm. Denham.
Men, sleeping found by whom they dread,
Rouse and bestir themselves ere well awake. Milton.
Blustering winds had roused the sea. Id.
At once the crowd arose, confused, and high ;
For Mars was early up, and roused the sky.
Dry den.
I'll thunder in their ears their country's cause,
And try to rouse up all that's Roman in them.
Addlson.
Richard, who now was half asleep,
Routed ; nor would longer silenoe keep. Prior.
The heat with which Luther treated bis adversa-
ries, though strained too far, was extremely well
fitted by the providence of God to route up a people,
the most phlegmatick of any in Christendom.
Atterbury.
Now Cancer glows with Phoebus' fiery car,
The youth rush eager to the sylvan war ;
Swarm o'er the lawns, the forest walks surround,
Rouse the fleet bait, and cheer the opening hound.
ftp*.
Melancholy lifts her head ;
Morpheus rouses from his bed. Id. St. Cecilia.
And when they .smiled because he deemed it near,
His heart more truly knew that peal too well
Which stretched his father on a bloody bier,
And routed the vengeance blood alone could quell
He rushed into the field, and, foremost fighting, fell
Byron.
ROUSE (John), an English antiquary of the
fifteenth century, who was born in Warwick-
shire; and lived at Guy's Cliff, near Warwick.
.He wrote, 1. A Chronicle of the Kings of Eng-
land ; and 2. The Antiquities of Warwick. lie
died in 1491.
ROUSSEAU (James), an eminent painter, born
in Paris in 1630. He studied first under Swane-
velt, after which he travelled into Italy, practising
in perspective, architecture, and landscape. On
his return home he was employed at Marly. He
distinguished himself in painting buildings, and,
from his knowledge of perspective, Louis XIV.
employed him to decorate his hall at St. Ger-
mame-en-Laie, where he represented the operas
of Lulli. Being a Protestant, he quitted France
on the persecution of his brethren, and retired
to Switzerland. Louis invited him back : he
refused, but sent his designs, and recommended
a proper person to execute them. After a short
stay in Switzerland, he went to Holland ; whence
he was invited to England by Ralph duke of
Montagu, to adorn his new house in Blooms-
bury. Some of his pictures, both in landscape
and architecture, are at Hampton Court ; and he
etched some of his own designs. He died in
Soho Square, London, in 1693.
ROUSSEAU (Jean Baptistc), a celebrated French
poet, born in Paris in April, 1671. His fa-
ther, who was a shoemaker, in good circum-
stances, had him educated in the first colleges of
Paris. He distinguished himself while young
by several short poetical pieces, ami was admitted
as an eleve, into the Academy of Inscriptions
ROUSSEAU.
61
and Belles Lettres, in 1701. He attended mar-
shal Tallard into England as his secretary, and
contracted a friendship with St. Evremond. On
his retum to Paris he was admitted at court, till
in 1708, he was prosecuted as the author of
some couplets, in which the characters of several
persons were calumniated, in consequence of
which he was banished in 1712 by a decree of
the parliament of Paris. After this sentence he
lived in foreign countries, where he found illus,-
trious protectors. The count de Luc, ambassador
of France in Switzerland, took him with him to
Baden in 1714, and presented him to prince
Eugene, who took him to Vienna, and introduced
him to the emperor. Rousseau lived about
three years with prince Eugene ; but having lost
his favor, by satirising one of his mistresses, he
retired to Brussels, where he afterwards usually
resided. It was here that he became acquainted
with Voltaire, who admired his poetry, and made
him a present of all his works. He came over,
in 1721, to England, where he printed a collec-
tion of his works, in 2 vols. 12mo., London.
This edition, published in 1723, brought him
tiearly 10,000 crowns, which he placed in the
hands of the Ostend company, where he soon
lost the whole of it. He now found an asylum
in the establishment of the duke of Aremberg,
whose table was open to him at all times, and
who, being obliged, in 1733, to go to the army
in Germany, settled on him a pension of 1500
livres. But, having been imprudent enough to
publish in a journal that the duke d'Aremberg
was the author of those verses for which he him-
self had been banished France, he was dismissed
from his table, and his pride would not allow
him to accept the pension after this rupture.
The count de Luc and M. de Senozan, receiver-
general of the church revenue, now invited him
to come privately to Paris, in the hopes of pro-
curing a diminution of the period of his banish-
ment, but all th,eir attempts proved abortive;
and after having staid three months at Paris, here-
turned to Brussels in February, 1740, where he
died 1741. M. Seguy, in concert with the prince
of la Tour Tassis, published a very beautiful
edition of his works, in 3 vols. 4to., agreeable
to the poet's last corrections. There is a larger
collection in five volumes, which did both injury
and honor to his memory, as he in it speaks both
in favor of and against the very same persons.
ROUSSEAU (Jean Jacques), a celebrated French
writer, born at Geneva in 1712. His father was
a watchmaker. His education was but scanty,
but he made up for this by self-application. His
friends put him apprentice to an engraver, from
whom he says he learnt to be idle, and even to
steal ; at length he eloped from him. Bornex,
bishop of Anneci, from whom he solicited an
asylum, committed the care of his education to
madamede Warrens, a lady who had in 1725 left
part of her wealth, and the Protestant religion, to
throw herself into the church. By her assistance
he went to Turin with letters of recommendation,
and was admitted into a seminary there, having
been first made a proselyte to the Roman Catho-
tholic religion by his benefactress. He was soon
disgusted with his new life, which he quitted
almost pennyless, and was obliged to engage
himself as a footman to a lady of quality.
She dying in three months, her nephew pro-
cured him another place out of livery. He next
commenced teaching music at Chamberi, where
he remained till 1741, when he went to Paris,
where he was long in very destitute circumstances.
Meanwhile he began to emerge fiom obscuiity,
and the place of deputy under M. Dupin, farmer
general, a man of parts, afforded him temporary
relief, and enabled him to be of some benefit to
Mad. de Warrens. The year 1750 was the com-
mencement of his literary career. The academy
of Dijon had proposed the question : ' Whether
the revival of the arts and sciences has con-
tributed to the refinement of manners ?' He
supported the negative side of the question, and
the academy crowned his work. From that
period he increased in celebrity. His next work
was A Discourse on the Causes of Inequality
among Mankind, and on the Origin of Social
Compacts, a work written with a view to prove
that mankind are equal ; that they were born to
live apart from each other ; and that they have
perverted the order of nature in forming societies.
He bestows the highest praise on the state of na-
ture, and depreciates the idea of every social
compact. By presenting this performance to the
magistrates, he was received again into his na-
tive country, and reinstated in all the privileges
and rights of a citizen, after having abjured the
Catholic religion. He soon however returnevl,
and lived for some time in Paris, and afterwards
retired into the country. His Letter to M. de
Alembert on the design of erecting a theatre ;it
Geneva, in 1757, first drew down upon him the
envy of Voltaire, and was the cause of those in-
dignities with which that author never ceased to
load him. In 1752 he gave to the theatre a pas-
toral, The Village Conjuror, of which he com-
posed both the poetry and music. His Dictionary
of Music affords several excellent articles ; some
of them, however, are very inaccurate. Rousseau,
soon after his Village Conjuror, published A
Letter on, or rather against, French Music, in
consequence of which he was insulted, menaced,
and lampooned. Harmonic fanaticism went even
to hang him up in effigy. He next published
the New Heloisa, an epistolary romance, in six
parts, 1761, 12mo. His Emilius afterwards ob-
tained him more fame than the New Heloisa.
This moral romance, which was published in
1762,, in 4 vols. 12mo., treats chiefly of educa-
tion. See EDUCATION. He dwelt from 1754 in
a small house in the country near Montmorenci ;
a retreat which he owed to the generosity cf a
farmer general. The French parliament con-
demned his Emilius in 1762, and entered a
criminal prosecution against the author, which
forced him to make a precipitate retreat ; and he
found an asylum in Neufchatel. His first care
was to defend his Emilius against the archbishop
of Paris, by whom it had been anathematised
The Letters of La Montaigne appeared soon
after ; but this work, far less eloquent, and full
of envious discussions on the magistrates and
clergy of Geneva, irritated the Protestant minis-
ters without effecting a reconciliation with the
Romish clergy. The protection of the king of
Prussia, to whom Nrufrhatel belonged, was not
ROU
62
sufficient to rescue him from that obloquy which
the minister of Montiers Travers, the village to
which he had retired, had excited against him.
On the night between the 6th and 7th of Sep-
tember, 1765, some fanatics attacked his house,
and, fearing new insults, he in vain sought an
asylum in Bern. As this canton was connected
with Geneva they did not allow him to remain
in the city. Obliged to set out on a journey,
in a very inclement season, he reached Strasburg
in a destitute situation. He waited there till the
weather was milder, when he went to Paris,
where Mr. Hume then was, who proposed taking
him with him to England. After some stay in
Paris, in the disguise of an Armenian, Rousseau
set out for London in 17fi6. Hume, much affected
with his situation and his misfortunes, procured
for him a very agreeable settlement. He did
not however make such an impression on the
minds of the English as he had done on the
French. The periodical prints were filled with
satires against him ; and they published a forged
letter from the king of Prussia, ridiculing the
principles and conduct of this new Diogenes.
Rousseau from this time treated Hume as an
enemy, who he said had brought him to England
with no other view than to expose him to public
ridicule; and he therefore returned to France.
On the 1st of July, 1770, Rousseau appeared
for the first time at the Regency coffee-house,
dressed in ordinary clothing, having for some
time previous to this worn ,an Armenian habit.
His friends procured for him liberty of staying,
on condition that he should neither write on re-
ligion or politics. He died of an apoplexy at
Ermenon-ville, belonging to the marquis de Gi-
rardin, about ten leagues from Paris, July 2d,
1778, aged sixty-six. This nobleman has erected
to his memory a very plain monument, in a
grove of poplars, which constitutes part of his
beautiful gardens. On his tomb is inscribed in
French — ' Here reposes the man of Nature and
of Truth.' Rousseau, during his stay near Lyons,
married madame le Vasseur, his governess, a
woman who, without beauty or talents, had
gained over him a great ascendancy. There are
several small pieces written by him, to be found
in a collection of his works published in 25 vols.
8vo. and 12mo, to which there is appehded a
very insignificant supplement in 6 vols. The
most important parts in this collection are se-
lected from his Thoughts ; in which the confi-
dent sophist and the impious author disappear,
and nothing is offered to the reader but the elo-
quent writer and the contemplative moralist.
There were found in his portfolio after his death,
Confessions, in twelve books, which were after-
wards published. His other works are, 1. The
Reveries of a Solitary Wanderer, being a journal
of the latter part of his life. 2. Considerations
upon the Government of Poland. 3. The Ad-
ventures of Lord Edward, a novel, being a kind
of supplement to the Nouvelle Heloise. 4. Va-
rious Memoirs and Fugitive Pieces, with a great
number of letters. 5. Emilia and Sophia. 6.
'Hie Levite of Ephraim, a poem. 7. Letters to
Sara. 8. An Opera and a Comedy. 9. Trans-
lations of the first book of Tacitus's History of
the Episode of Olinda and Sophronia, taken
from lasso, &c. &c.
ROW
ROUT, n. s. & v. a. Goth, and Swed. rote
Belg. rot. A clamorous multitude ; a rabble ;
a tumultuous crowd ; confusion : to put to con-
fusion ; to assemble in tumultuous crowds.
The next way to end the wars with him, and to
rout him quite, should be, to keep him from invading
of those countries adjoining. Spenser.
A rout of people there assembled were,
Of every sort and nation under sky. Id.
If that rebellion
Came like itself in base and abject routs,
Led on by bloody youth, goaded with rage,
And countenanced by boys and beggary,
You, reverend father, then had not been there.
Shakspeare.
Farmers were to forfeit their holds in case of un-
lawful retainer, or partaking in routs and unlawful
assemblies. Bacon.
The meaner sort routed together, and suddenly as-
sailing the earl, in his house, slew him.
Id. Henry VII.
Thy army,
As if they could not stand when nhou wer't down,
Dispersed in rout, betook them all to fly. Daniel.
Fancy, wild dame, with much lascivious pride,
By twin chameleons drawn, does gaily ride,
Her coach there follows, and throngs round about.
Of shapes and airy forms an endless rout. Cowley.
That party of the king's horse that charged the
Scots, so totally routed and defeated their whole
army that they fled. Clarendon.
Nor do I name of men the common rout,
That wandering loose about,
Grow up and perish, as the summer fly. Milton.
Their mightiest quelled, the battle swerved,
With many an inrode gored ; deformed rout
Entered and foul disorder. Id. Paradise Lost.
The mad ungovernable roitf,
Full of confusion, and the fumes of wine,
Loved such variety and antick tricks. Roscommon,
Harley spies
The doctor fastened by the eyes
At Charing-cross among the rout,
Where painted monsters are hung out. Su-ift.
ROUTE, ra. s. Fr. route. Road ; way.
Wide through the furzy field their route they take,
Their bleeding bosoms force the thorny brake. Gu\t.
ROW, n. s. Sax. na; Goth, and Swed. ra;
Teut. reih. A rank or file; a number of tilings
ranged in a line.
Lips never part but that they show
Of precious pearl the double row. Sidney
After them all dancing on a row,
The comely virgins came with garlands dight,
As fresh as flowres. Spenser.
A new born wood of various lines there grows,
And all the flourishing letters stand in rows.
Cowley.
Where any row
Of fruit trees, overwoody reached too far
Their pampered boughs, and needed hands to check
Fruitless embraces. Milton' t Paradise Lost.
Where the bright seraphim in burning row,
Their loud uplifted angel trumpets blow. Milton.
The victor honoured with a nobler vest,
Where gold and purple strive in equal row*.
Dry den.
Why round our coaches crowd the white-gloved
beaux,
Why bows the side box from its inmost rows ?
Pope.
Row, ?;. n. &, v. a. ) Sax. nopari ; Goth, nm.
ROW'ER, n. s. $ To impel a vessel m
ROW 63
ROW
water by oars ; to drive by oars ; a rower is one
who manages oars.
He saw them toiling in rowing • for the wind was
contrary. Murk vi. 48.
Some of these troughs or canoes were so great
that above twenty men have been found rowing in
one. Abbot.
The swan rows her state with oary feet. Milton.
The bold Britons then securely row'd ;
Charles and his virtue was their sacred load.
Waller.
The watermen turned their barge, and rowed
softly, that they might take the cool of the evening.
Dryden.
Four gallies first, which equal rowers bear,
Advancing in the watery lists appear. Id.
The bishop of Salisbury ran down with the stream
thirty miles in an hour, by the help of but one rower.
Addison.
ROWE (Nicholas), an eminent English poet,
the son of John Rowe, esq., serjeant at law,
was born at Little Barford, Bedfordshire, in
1673. He acquired a knowledge of the classic
authors under Dr. Busby in Westminster school ;
but poetry was his early and darling study.
His father, who designed him for his own pro-
fession, entered him a student in the Middle
Ten: pie. He made considerable advances in the
law ; but the love of the belles lettres and poe-
try stopped him in his career. His first tragedy,
The Ambitious Stepmother, meeting %vith uni-
versal applause, he laid aside all thoughts of the
law. He afterwards composed several tragedies;
but he valued himself most upon his Tamerlane.
The others are the Fair Penitent, Ulysses, The
Royal Convert, Jane Shore, and Lady Jane
Gray. He also wrote a poem called The Biter,
and several poems upon different subjects,
which have been published under the title of
Miscellaneous Works, in one volume, as his
dramatic works have been in two. ' Rowe is
chiefly to be considered,' says Dr. Johnson, ' in
the light of a tragic writer and a translator. In
his attempt at comedy, he failed so ignominiously,
that his Biter is not inserted in his works ; and
his occasional poems are rarely worthy of either
praise or censure. In the construction of his
dramas there is not much art. He is not a nice
observer of the unities; nor does he much affect
the auditor, except in Jane Shore, who is always
seen and heard with pity. Whence then has
Rowe his reputation ? From the reasonableness
and propriety of some of his scenes, from the
elegance of his diction, and the suavity of his
verse. He seldom moves either pity or terror,
but he often elevates the sentiment ; he seldom
pierces the breast, but he always delights the ear,
and often improves the understanding.' Being a
great admirer of Shakspeare, he gave the public
an edition of his plays. But the most consider-
able of Mr. Rowe's performances was a transla-
tion of Lucan's Pharsalia, which he just lived to
finish, but it did not appear in print till 1728,
ten years after his death. The duke of Queens-
berry, when secretary, made him under-secretarv.
After the duke's death all avenues were sto^psd
to his farther preferment ; and during the rest of
queen Anne's reign he passed his time in study.
On the accession of George I. he was made poet
laureat, and one of the land-surveyors of the
customs in the port of London. The prince of
Wales conferred on him the clerkship of his
council ; and the lord chancellor Parker made
him his secretary for the presentations. He did
not enjoy these promotions long ; for he died
December 6, 1718, aged forty-five. He was
twice married, and had a son by his first wife,
and a daughter by his second. He was interred
in Westminster Abbey, in the Poet's Corner,
opposite to Chaucer.
ROWE (Elizabeth), an English lady, eminent
for her writings, born at Ilchester, in Somerset-
shire, in 1674. She had a taste for both paint-
ing and poetry, and was very fond of music.
In 1696 a collection of her poems was published.
Her paraphrase on the thirty-eighth chapter of Job
was written at the request of bishop Ken. She
married, in 1710, Mr. Thomas Rowe, the translator
of Plutarch's Lives ; but intense study soon
threw him into a consumption, which put a pe-
riod to his life in May, 1715, when he was but
just twenty-eight. Mrs. Rowe wrote an elegy
on his death ; and continued to the last moments
of her life to express the highest veneration and
affection for his memory. Soon after his decease,
she retired to Frome, in Somersetshire. In this
recess she composed the most celebrated of her
works, Friendship in Death, and Letters Moral
and Entertaining. In 1736 she published The
History of Joseph; a poem written in her
younger years. She died of an apoplexy, Fe-
bruary 20, 1736-7. In her cabinet were found
letters to several of her friends, which she had
ordered to be delivered after her decease. The
Rev. Dr. Isaac Watts, agreeably to her request,
revised and published, in 1737, her Devout Ex-
ercises of the Heart in Meditation and Soliloquy,
Praise and Prayer; and, in 1739, her Miscella-
neous Works, in prose and verse, were published
in 2 vols. 8vo., with an account of her life and
writings prefixed.
ROW'EL, n. s. & v. a. Fr. rouelle. The
points of a spur turning on an axis : to pierce
the skin and keep the wound open.
A rider like myself, who ne'er wore rowel
Nor iron on his heel. Shahtpeare. Cymbeline.
A mullet is the rowel of a spur, and hath never but
five points ; a star hath six. Peacham.
He spurred his fiery steed
With gory rowels to provoke his speed. Dryden.
Rowel the horse in the chest. Mortimer.
ROW'EN, n. s. Teut. rauke, grass. After
grass.
Then spare it for rowen, till Michel be past,
To lengthen thy dairie no better thou hast. Tusser.
Rowen is a field kept up till after Michaelmas, that
the corn left on the ground may sprout into green.
Notes on Tusser.
Turn your cows, that give milk, into your rmcent,
till snow comes. Mortimer's Husbandry.
ROWLEY (William), a dramatic writer who
lived in the reign of Charles I. and was edu-
cated at the university of Cambridge. Wood
styles him ' the ornament, for wit and ingenuity,
of Pembroke Hall, in Cambridge.' He was a
great benefactor to the English stage, having
left us five plays of his own composing, and
one in which Shakspeare afforded him some as-
sistance.
ROX
64
ROY
ROYSNIXG (John), an ingenious English
mathematician, born in 1699. lie was fellow of
Magdalen College, Cambridge, and afterwards
rector of Anderby, in Lincolnshire. In 1738 he
printed, at Cambridge, A Compendious System
of Natural Philosophy, in 2 vols. 8vo. ; reprinted
in 1745. He wrote also two pieces in the Phi-
losophical Transactions, viz. 1. A Description of
a Barometer, wherein the Scale of Variation may
be increased at pleasure ; vol. xxxviii. p. 39.
And, 2. Directions for making a Machine for
finding the Roots of Equations universally, with
the manner of using it ; vol. Ix. p. 240. He
died in London, November 1771.
ROXANA, a Persian princess, daughter of
Darius, who, being taken prisoner by Alexander
the Great, captivated her conqueror, who mar-
ried her. After his death she behaved with great
cruelty, for which she was put to death by Cas-
sander. SeeMACEDox.
ROXBURGH, an ancient city of Roxburgh-
shire, once famed for opulence and magnificence,
of which very few relics now remain. It stood
on a rising ground, opposite Kelso, at the west
end of a fertile plain, peninsulated by the Tweed
and the Tiviot, near a magnificent Cistertian
monastery founded by David I. It was totally
destroyed by king James II. and never after-
wards rebuilt ; and, as its site is now converted
into arable fields, the plough has nearly oblite-
rated all traces of its existence. At the point of
the peninsula stood the castle, memorable in the
Scottish history, as an object of frequent mortal
contention between the Scots and English ; and
before which king James II. was killed By the
bursting of a cannon. This castle is now en-
tirely in ruins.
ROXBURGH, or ROXBURGHSHIRE, a county of
Scotland, so named from the above ancient city,
called also Teviotdale, from the Teviot which
runs through it: extending about thirty miles
from east to west, and fifteen in breadth from
the English border to the Blue Cairn in Lauder-
dale Moor; but of an irregular figure. It is
bounded on the north by Lauderdale and Ber-
wickshire; on the east and south-east by Nor-
thumberland and Cumberland ; on the south and
south-west by Annandale ; and on the west by
Dumfries and Selkirk shires. It is divided into
three districts, called Teviotdale, Liddesdale,
and Eskdale, from their chief rivers, the Teviot,
Liddal, and Esk. On the north and west the
county is mountainous, and chiefly appropriated
to pasture; but on the south and east consider-
ably level and fertile. The whole abounds with
the most romantic scenery, exhibiting the rough
appearance of hills, mosses, rocks, and moun-
tains, interspersed with delightful fertile valleys,
through which run numerous rivers and rivulets.
The chief mountains are the Cheviot and Cock-
raw Hills, which are situated in what was called
the Debateable Lands : from the property of
them being often the subject of debate between
the two kingdoms, but finally adjudged to Scot-
land at the Union. This county contains one
royal borough, viz. Jedburgh ; and several con-
siderable towns, as Kelso, Hawick, Melrose,
and Castletown. Before the union of the crowns,
while predatory wars xere frequent between the
two kingdoms, 10,000 horsemen, well armed
and accoutred, could have been raised in twenty
four hours- Even after that period, and before
the union of the kingdoms, the profits of a very
lucrative contraband trade enriched the people
and kept up the population. The recent im-
provements, however, in cultivation, manufac-
tures, improvements in the breed of sheep and
wool, and other arts of peace, are now making
up for these deficiencies, and increasing the
population and prosperity of the borders of both
kingdoms, without danger of interruption and
depredations from predatory inroads on either
side. This county sends one member- to the
imperial parliament. There are many ancient
forts and castles ; and the ancient Roman road,
called the Rugged Causeway, can be traced
from Hounam to the Tweed.
ROXBURY, a township of the United States,
in Norfolk county, Massachusetts, two miles
S. S.W. of Boston. It contains many handsome
houses and country seats. The soil is in a high
state of cultivation, and the inhabitants supply
Boston with great quantities of vegetables and
fniit. Population 3669.
ROY'AL, adj. ~\ Fr. row/; Ital. and
ROY'ALIST, n. s. /Span, real, reale, of Lat.
ROY'ALIZE, v. a. \regalis. Kingly; belonging
ROY'ALLY, adv. I to or becoming a king
ROY'ALTY, n. s. J regal ; all the derivatives
corresponding.
What news from Venice
How doth that royal merchant, good Anthonio?
ShaJupeare.
Ere you were queen, ay, or your husband king,
To royalise his blood, I spilt mine own. Id.
It shall be my care,
To have you royally appointed. Id.
Draw, you rascal ; you come with letters against
the king, and take vanity the puppet's part against
the royalty of her father. Id. King Lear.
Royalty by birth was the sweetest way of majesty :
a king and a father compounded into one, being of a
temper like unto God, justice and mercy. Holyday.
Wherefore do I assume
These royaltiei, and not refuse to reign ? Milton.
The royal stock of David. Id.
Where Candish fought the royalists prevailed,
Neither his courage nor his judgment failed.
Waller.
His body shall be royally interred,
And the last funeral pomp adorn his hearse.
Dry den.
If they had held their royalties by this title, either
there must have been but one sovereign, or else every
father of a family had as good a claim to royalty as
these. Locke.
The old church of England royalists, another name
for a man who prefers his conscience before his in-
terests, are the most meritorious subjects in the world,
as having passed all those terrible tests which domi-
neering malice could put them to, and carried their
credit and their conscience clear. South.
1 will, alas ! be wretched to the great,
And sigh in rnyultu, and grieve in state. Prior.
Thrice happy they, who thus in woods and groves
From courts retired, possess their peaceful loves :
Of royal maids how wretched is the fate ! Granville.
ROYAL SOCIETY. See SOCIETY.
ROYENA, in botany, African bladdernut ; a
genus of the digynia order, and detandria class
RUB
65
RUB
of plants; natural order eighteenth, bicornes:
CAL. urceolated ; COR. monopetalous, with the
limb revoluted : CAPS, unilocular and quadri-
valved. Species seven, all Cape herbs.
ROY'NISH, adj. Fr. rogneux, mangy, paltry.
Paltry ; sorry ; mean ; rude.
The roynish clown, at whom so oft
Your grace was wont to laugh, is also missing.
Shakspeare.
ROYSE (George), D. D., an English divine,
born at Martock, in Somersetshire, about 1655 ;
and educated at St. Edmund Hall, Oxford. He
became chaplain to king William III., and at-
tended him to Ireland in 1690. He was made
dean of Bristol, and died in 1708.
ROYSTON, a market town in Hertfordshire.
The name of the town is derived from a cross '
erected in the commencement of the twelfth
century by a lady lloise, and hence called Roise's
Cross. A monastery was afterwards built near
it, and largely endowed. Houses gradually arose
round the monastery, and the name was changed
to Royse's Town, or Royston. The town is now
noted chiefly for its corn trade. The church is
an ancient edifice, consisting of a nave, chancel,
and aisles. The market is on Wednesday, and
it has five annual fairs. Thirty-seven miles north
of London.
ROY'TELET, n. s. fr.roytelet. A little petty
king-
Causing the American roytelets to turn all ho-
magers to that king and the crown of England.
Heylin.
ROZEE (Madame), an extraordinary paintress,
born at Leyden in 16,32. She neither used oil
nor water colors, but wrought on the rough side
of the pannel, with a preparation of silk floss,
disposed in different boxes, according to the
different degrees of bright and dark tints, out of
which she applied the colors requisite, and
blended, softened, and united the tints with
surprising beauty. In this singular manner she
executed portraits, landscapes, and historical
subjects. She died in 1682, aged fifty.
RUATAN, an island of the bay of Honduras,
thirty miles long, and nine wide; fortified by
rocks and shoals, which defend the fort, and also
by the narrowness of the port, into which only
one vessel can enter at a time. Yet it is capable
of containing 500 vessels in perfect safety.
From the sea this island appears singularly
beautiful. It is entirely covered with the cocoa-
nut and other trees ; and the soil is fertile. It
abounds with deer, wild hogs, Indian rabbits,
and birds of many species : parrots are innume-
rable. The Spaniards have a kind of military
station or look-out post here. The small ad-
joining islands of Helene, Moratte, and Borbu-
rette, are separated from this by a narrow
channel, and seem like detached parts of it. In
the south are some ports, and besides these,
some little channels fit for small vessels. In
the west part of the island are meadows, in
which mules are bred.
RUB, v. a., v. n. &t,n.s.^ Welsh, rhubco ;
RUB'BER, n. s. > Teut. reiber ; Swed.
RUB'STONE. j rubba. To scour or
smooth by friction ; pass one body over another ;
to wipe ; cleanse ; polish ; ' to rub up' is to
VOL. XIX.
excite or to polish ; ' rub down,' curry a horse ;
as a verb neuter, to rub is to fret; make a
friction ; pass or force a way through difficulty :
a rub, the act of rubbing; collision; hence
difficulty ; hindrance : rubber, the instrument
or agent in rubbing ; a game ; a courtesy : rub-
stone, a whetstone.
A cradle for barhe, with rub-stone and sand.
Tusser.
He, who before he was espied, was afraid, after
being perceived, was ashamed, now being hardly
rubbed upon, left both fear and shame, and was
moved to anger. Sidney.
Look, how she rubi her hands,
— It is an accustomed action with her, to seem thus
washing her hands. Shakspeare. Macbeth.
We'll play at bowls,
— 'Twill make me think the world is full of rubs,
And that my foitune runs against the bias.
Shakspeare.
To sleep ! perchance to dream ; ay, there's the
rub. Id.
Upon this rub, the English ambassadors thought
fit to demur, and sent to receive directions.
Hay ward.
No hunters, that the tops of mountains scale,
And rub through woods with toile seek them all.
Chapman.
He expounds the giddy wonder
Of my weary steps, and under
Spreads a path clear as the day,
Where no churlish rub says nay. Crashaw.
The government at that time was by kings, before
whom the people in the most formal expressions of
duty and reverence used to rub their noses, 6r stroke
their foreheads. Heylin.
Their straw-built citadel now rubbed with balm.
Milton.
When his fellow beasts are weary grown,
He'll play the groom, give oats, and rub 'em down.
Dry den.
He that once sins, like him that slides on ice,
Goes swiftly down the slippery ways of vice ;
Though conscience checks him, yet, those rubs gone
o'er,
He slides on smoothly, and looks back no more. Id.
Servants blow the fire with puffing cheeks, and lay
The rubbers, and the bathing sheets display. Id.
'Tis as much as one can do to rub through the
world, though perpetually a doing. L'Estrange.
The ass was to stand by, to see two boobies try
their title to him by a rubber of cuffs. Id.
The bare rubbing of two bodies violently produces
heat, and often fire. Locke.
If their minds are well principled with inward
civility, a great part of the roughness, which sticks
to the outside for want of better teaching, time and
observation will rub of; but if ill, all the rules in
the world will not polish them. Id.
The rough'or coarse file, if large, is called a rubber,
and takes off the unevenness which the hammer
made in the forging. Moion.
The whole business of our redemption is to rub
over the defaced copy of the creation, to reprint God's
image upon the soul. South.
You will find me not to have rubbed up the me-
mory of what some heretofore in the city did. Id.
In narrow clefts, in the monument that stands over
him, catholics rub their beads, and smell his bones,
which they say have in them a natural perfume,
though very like apopleclick balsam ; and what would
make one suspect that they rub the marble with it, it
is obseived that the scent is stronger in the morning
than at night. Addism on 7fn/i/.
• F
RUB
66
RUB
A forcible object will rub out the freshest colours
at a stroke, and paint others. Collier of the Aspect.
If butchers had but the manners to go to sharps,
gentlemen would be contented with a rubber at cuffs.
Id. on Duelling.
Two bones, rubbed hard against one another, pro-
duce a fetid smell. Arbuthnot on Aliments.
An hereditary right is to be preferred before elec-
tion ; because the jgovernment is so disposed that it
almost executes itself; and, upon the death of a
prince, the administration goes on without any rub
or interruption. Swift.
Rub the dirty tables with the napkins, for it will
save your wearing out the common rubbers. Id.
RUBBER, INDIA. See CAOUTCHOUC.
RUB'BAGE, TI. s. ) From rub ; meaning,
RUB'BISH. } at first, dust made by
rubbing. Rubbage is not now used. Ruins
of a building ; fragments of matter used in
building.
What trash is Rome !
What rubbish, and what offal ! when it serves
For the base matter to illuminate
So vile a thing as Caesar. Shakspeare.
Such conceits seem too fine among this rubbage.
Wotton .
A fabric, though high and beautiful, if founded
on rubbish, is easily made the triumph of the winds.
Glanmlle's Scepsis.
The Almighty cast a pitying eye,
He saw the town's one half in rubbish lie. Dryden.
When the foundation of a state is once loosened,
the least commotion lays the whole in rubbish.
L' Estrange.
Knowledge lying under abundance of rubbish, his
scope has been to remove this rubbish, and to dress
up crabbed matters as agreeably as they can. Daven.
That noble art of political lying ought not to lie
any longer in rubbish and confusion.
Arbuthnot's History of John Bull.
The enemy hath avoided a battle, and taken a surer
way to consume us, by letting our courage evaporate
against stones and rubbish. Swift.
RUBBLE-STONE, n.s. From rub.
Rubble-stones owe their name to their being rubbed
and worn by the water, at the latter end of the de-
luge, departing in hurry and with great precipitation.
Woodward.
RUBENS (Sir Peter Paul), the most eminent
of the Flemish painters, was born in 1577, at
Cologne. His father, who was a counsellor in
the senate at Antwerp, had been compelled by
the civil wars to seek refuge in Cologne, and,
during his residence there, Rubens was born.
He soon discovered a strong inclination for de-
signing, and his mother, perceiving her son's bias,
permitted him to attend the instructions of To-
bias Verhaecht, a painter of architecture and
landscape. He next became the pupil of Adam
Van Ort, but his surly temper quickly disgusted
Rubens, whose natural disposition was amiable.
He then became the disciple of Octavio Van
Vien, or Otho Venius, a painter of singular me-
rit, and who was not only skilled in the princi-
•ples of his art but also distinguished for critical
learning. Rubens now gave up his whole mind
to painting, and soon equalled his master. To
arrive at that perfection which he already beheld
in idea, he travelled through Italy, visiting the
most valuable collections of -paintings and an-
tique statues witli which that country abounds.
Having finished some fine paintings for the arch-
duke Albert's palace, he was recommended by
him to the duke of Mantua, by whom he was
received with the most flattering marks of dis-
tinction, and where he studied the works of
Julio Romano. He next visited Rome, where
he examined the productions of Raphael, and
the pointings of Titian and Paul Veronese called
him to Venice. He continued in Italy seven
years. At length hearing that his mother was ill
he hastened to Antwerp, but she died before his
arrival. He married soon after, but, his wife dy-
ing in four years, he retired from Antwerp, and
endeavoured to sooth his melancholy by a jour-
ney into Holland. His fame now spread over
Europe. He was invited by Mary of Medicis
queen of Henry IV. of France to Paris, where
he painted the galleries in the palace of Luxem-
burg. These form a series of paintings which
delineate the history of that princess ; and afford
a decisive proof of his superiority in such com-
positions. At Paris he became acquainted with
the duke of Buckingham, who employed him to
explain to Isabella, the wife of Albert the arch-
duke, the cause of the misunderstanding between
the courts of England and Spain. In this employ-
ment Rubens acquitted himself so well, that
Isabella appointed him envoy to the king of
Spain, to propose terms of peace. Philip con-
ferred on him the honor of knighthood, and made
him secretary to his privy council. Rubens re-
turned to Brussels, and thence passed over into
England in 1630 with a commission from the
Catholic king to negociate a peace. He was
successful, and a treaty was concluded, and
Charles I. treated him with every mark of respect.
Having engaged him to paint some of the apart-
ments of Whitehall, he not only gave him a
handsome sum of money, but, as an acknowledg-
ment of his merit, created him a knight ; and the
duke of Buckingham purchased of him a collec-
tion of pictures, statues, medals, and antiques,
to the value of £10,000. He returned to Spain,
where he was highly honored and rewarded for
his services. He was made a gentleman of the
king's bed-chamber, and secretary to the council
of state in the Netherlands. Rubens, however,
did not lay aside his profession. He returned to
Antwerp, where he married a second wife called
Helena Forment, a celebrated beauty. He died
on the 30th of May 1640, aged sixty-three, leav-
ing a large fortune to his children. The figure
of Rubens was noble, his manners engaging, and
his conversation lively. He spoke several lan-
guages perfectly, and was an excellent statesman.
His house at Antwerp contained one spacious
apartment, in imitation of the rotunda at Rome,
adorned with a choice collection of pictures
which he had purchased in Italy; part of which
he sold to the duke of Buckingham. His inven-
tion was so fertile that, when he painted the same
subject several times, he always supplied some-
thing new. The attitudes of his figures are natu-
ral and varied, the carriage of the head is pecu-
liarly graceful, and his expression noble and
animated. He carried the art of coloring to its
highest pitch. The great excellence of Rubens
appears in his grander historical compositions ;
he touched them in such a manner as to give
them a lasting force, beauty, and harmony. Yet,
RUB
67
RUB
with all his merits, Rubens is accused of want of
correctness in designing. Though he had spent
seven years in Italy in studying those antiques
by which other celebrated artists had modelled
their taste; though he had examined them with
such minute attention as not only to perceive
their beauties, but to be qualified to describe
them in a Dissertation which he wrote on that
subject ; yet he seems never to have divested
himself of that heavy style of painting, which,
being peculiar to his native country, he had in-
sensibly acquired. The astonishing rapidity,
too, with which he painted, made him fall into
inaccuracies, from which those works that he
finished with care arc entirely exempted.
Among his finished pieces is the Crucifixion,
lately to be seen at Antwerp ; but of all his
works the paintings in the palace of Luxemburg
best display his genius and his style. Algarotti
says, that he was more moderate in his move-
ments than Tintoretto, and more soft in his chiaro-
scuro than Caravaggio ; but not so rich in his
compositions, nor so light in his touches as Paul
Veronese ; in his carnations less true than Titian,
and less delicate than Vandyck. Yet he gave
his colors the utmost transparency and harmony,
notwithstanding their extraordinary deepness ;
and he had a strength and grandeur of style en-
tirely his own.
RUBIA, in botany, madder, a genus of the
monogynia order, and tetrandria class of plants ;
natural order forty-seventh, stellatae : COR. is
monopetalous and campanulated ; and there are
two monospermous berries. There are seven
species, of which the most remarkable is the
R. tinctorum, or dyer's madder, so much used
by the dyers and calico-printers. This has a
perennial root and annual stalk ; the root is
composed of many long, thick, succulent fibres,
almost as large as a man's little finger ; these are
joined at the top in a head like asparagus, and
run very deep into the ground. From the upper
part or head of the root come out many side
roots, which extend just under the surface of the
ground to a great distance, whereby it propagates
very fast ; for these send up a great number of
shoots, which if carefully taken off in the spring,
soon after they are above ground, become so
many plants. These roots are of a reddish color,
somewhat transparent ; and have a yellowish pith
in the middle, which is tough and of a bitter
taste. From this root arise many large four cor-
nered jointed stalks, which in good land will
grow five or six feet long, and, if supported,
sometimes seven or eight ; they are armed with
short herbaceous prickles ; and at each joint are
placed five or six spear-shaped leaves ; their up-
per surfaces are smooth ; but their mid rib on
the under side is armed with rough herbaceous
spines, and the leaves sit close to the branches in
whorls. From the joints of the stalk come out
the branches, which sustain the flowers : they
are placed by pairs opposite ; each pair crossing
the other ; these have a few small leaves towards
the bottom, which are by threes, and upwards
by pairs opposite : the branches are terminated
by loose branching spikes of yellow flowers,
which are cut into four parts resembling stars.
These appear in June, and are sometimes suc-
ceeded by seeds which seldom ripen in Eng-
land for any useful purpose connected with
dyeing or manufactures. Madder root is used
in medicine. It is an ingredient in the
icteric decoction of the Edinburgh pharma-
copeia. Madder colors the bones of animals
wiio have it mixed with their food : all the bones,
particularly the more solid ones, are changed
both externally aud internally, to a deep red ; but
neither the fleshy nor cartilaginous parts suffer-
ed any alterations : some of these bones mace-
rated in water for many weeks together, and
afterwards steeped and boiled in spirit of wine,
lost none of their color, nor communicated any
tinge to the liquors.
RUBICON, a river of Italy, anciently form-
ing the boundary between Italy and Gaul. Cre-
sar, by passing this river with his legions, and
thus quitting the province assigned him, was
deemed to have made war on the republic.
RUBIF1C, adj. -\ Lat. ruber and facto.
RU'BIFORM, adj. (Making red : having a red
RU'BIFY, v. a. ^appearance : to make red :
RUBIF'IOUS, adi. J red.
While the several species of rays, as the rubific,
are by refraction separated one from another, they
retain those motions proper to each. Grew.
Of those rays, which pass close by the snow, the
rubiform 'will be the least refracted ; and so come to
the eye in the directest lines. Newton's Opticks.
RU'BRIC, n. s. & adj. Fr. rubrique ; Lat.
rubrica. Directions printed in books of law
and prayer-books ; so termed, because originally
distinguished by being in red ink : red.
No date prefixed,
Directs me in the starry rubricks set. Milton.
They had their particular prayers according to the
several days and months ; and their tables or rvbrickt ,
to instruct them. Stillingfleet.
The rubrick and the rules relating to the liturgy
are established by royal authority, as well as the
liturgy itself. Nelson.
The light and rays which appear red, or rather
make objects appear so, I call rvirick or red making.
Newton.
What though my name stood rubrick on the walls.
Pope.
RUBUS, the bramble, a genus of the poly-
gamia order and icosandria class of plants ;
natural order thirty-fifth, senticosae : CAL. quin-
quefid, petals five ; the berry consisting of mono-
spermous acini or pulpy grains. The principal
species is the common raspberry, which, with its
varieties, demands culture in every garden for
the fruit; particularly the common red kind,
white, and twice bearing raspberry ; all of which
are great bearers : but, for the general planta-
tions, the common red and the white kind are
chiefly preferred ; planting also a share of the
twice bearing sort, both as a curiosity and for
the sake of its autumnal crops of fruit, which in
favorable seasons ripen in tolerable perfection ;
observing to allow all the sorts some open expo-
sure in the kitchen garden, though they will
prosper in almost any situation. The other spe-
cies are considered as^lants of variety, for hardy
plantations in the shrubbery. Some of them are
also very ornamental flowering plants ; particu-
larly the Virginian flowering raspberry, and the
double blossomed bramble, which have great
F2
RUB
merit as furniture for ornamental compartments;
and the white berried bramble, which is a great
curiosity. All the other species and varieties
serve to diversify large collections.
RU'BY, n. s. Fr. rubis ; Span, rubi, from Lat.
ruber. A precious stone of a red color.
Up, up fair bride and call
Thy stars from out their several boxes, take
Thy rubies, pearls, and diamonds forth, and make
Thyself a constellation of them all. Donne.
You can behold such sights,
And keep the natural ruby of your cheeks,
When mine is blanched with fear. Shalupebre.
Wounds, like dumb mouths, do ope their ruby
lips. Id.
Melpomene would be represented like a manly
lady, upon her head a dressing of pearl, diamonds,
and rubies. Peacham.
Thrice upon thy finger's tip,
Thrice upon thy rubied lip. Milton.
Desire of wine
Thou could'st repress, nor did the dancing ruby
Sparkling, out-poured, the flavour, or the smell,
Or taste, that cheers the hearts of Gods and men,
Allure thee from the cool crystalline stream. Id.
Crowns were on thy royal scutcheons placed,
With saphires, diamonds, and with rubies graced.
Drfjden .
HeVsaid to have a rich face and rubies about his
nose. Captain Jones.
RUBY, a precious stone, ranked by Jameson
under the head of the spinell, of the color of a
bright corn poppy flower. The balass, or pale
red inclining to violet; a species of sapphire.
There are rubies of different shades of color, but
that the most sought after should be scarlet, or
fire color ; it should be soft and velvety in ap-
pearance, and throw forth a glow lively and ar-
dent. When these qualities are eminently dis-
played, no stone is comparable thereto, and its
value surpasses even that of the diamond. The
spinell rubies are about half the value of dia-
monds of the same weight ; the balass is valued
at 30s. per carat ; a perfect ruby, if it weigh
more than three carats and a half, is of greater
value than a diamond of the same weight. It is
most frequently found very small ; its common
size being that of a large pin-head ; and is then
very cheap ; but it is also found of four, six, or
ten carats; and sometimes, though but very
rarely, up to twenty, thirty, or forty. It is never
found of an angular or crystalliform shape, but
always of a pebble-like figure, often roundish,
sometimes oblong, and much larger at one end
than the other, and resembling a pear, usually
more or less flattened on one side. It is com-
monly so naturally bright and pure on the sur-
face as to need no polishing ; it is worn in rings,
and in the crowns of princes, in its native state.
It is fusible with borax in a strong and long-
continued heat, running into a transparent glass
of a pale green color : the same effect is pro-
duced by microcosmic salt; but with potassa
the glass is opaque and differently colored. In
the course of experiments made on precious
stones, by order of the grand duke of Tuscany,
rubies, in the heat which dissipated diamonds,
were softened, and lost some of their color, but
preserved their form and weight. By addition
of a third lens, a further degree of fusion was
68 RUD
given to rubies. Even then rubies could not be
made to unite with glass. By having been ex-
posed to this heat, the surface of the rubies
which had suffered fusion lost much of their ori-
ginal hardness, and were nearly as soft as crystal.
But their internal parts, which had not been
fused, retained their hardness. Rubies become
electric by being rubbed. They are met with in
the mountains of Pegu in the East Indies ; and
at Ava, Calicut, and Brasil. They are found in
the sands of rivers, in an argillaceous earth of a
hard texture and greenish color ; sometimes they
adhere to red rocks. The spinell rubies are
met with in Hungary, Silesia, Bohemia, and
Brasil. The balass comes principally from Bra-
sil, though some are also brought from the East
Indies. The largest ruby known was brought
from China to prince Gargarin, governor of Si-
beria. It came afterwards into the hands of prince
Mentchikof, and is at present one of the orna-
ments of the imperial crown of Russia. Accord-
ing to Pliny, the ancients found considerable
difficulty in engraving on this stone : many mo-
dern artists have essayed upon it, and among
them one of the most successful is a German
named Haefler.
RUD, v. a. Sax. rui^u, redness. To make
red. Obsolete.
Her cheeks, like apples, which the sun had rud-
ded. Spenser.
RUDBECK (Olaus), a learned Swedish phy-
sician, of an ancient and noble family, born in
1630. He became professor of medicine at
Upsal, where he acquired great applause by his
extensive knowledge; and died in 1702. His
principal works are, 1. Exercitatio Anatomica,
exhibens ductus novos hepaticos Aquosos, et
vasa glandularum serosa, in 4to. He there claims
the discovery of the lymphatic vessels. 2. Ath-
lantica, sive Manheim, vera Japheti posterorum
sedes ac patria, 3 vols. folio ; in which he en-
deavours to prove that Sweden was the country
whence all the ancient Pagan divinities and our
first parents were derived ; and that the Ger-
mans, English, French, Danes, Greeks, and Ro-
mans, with all other nations, originally came
from thence.
RUDBECKIA, in botany, dwarf sunflower,
a genus of the polygamia frustranea order, and
syngenesia class of plants ; natural order forty-
ninth, composita ; receptacle paleaceous and
conical ; pappus consisting of a quadridentate
margin : CAL. a double series of scaly leaves.
Species nine, natives of America.
RUD'DER, n. s. Sax. rioSep; Belg. roeder.
The instrument of steering a vessel ; any thing
that guides or governs.
They loosed the rudder bands, and hoisted up the
main-sail, and made towards shore. Acts xxvii. 40.
My heart was to thy rudder tied by the string,
And thou shouldst towe me after. Sliakspeare.
Those that attribute unto the faculty any first or
sole power have therein no other understanding, than
such a one hath, who, looking into the stern of a
ship, and finding it guided by the helm and rudder,
doth ascribe some absolute virtue to the piece of
wood, without all consideration of the hand that
guides it. Raleigh's Hiitory «J' the l\'»rtd.
RUD
69
RUD
For rhyme the rudder is of verses. Hitdibras.
Thou held'st the rudder with a steady hand,
Till safely on the shore the bark did land. Dryden.
The RUDDER, in navigation, is a piece of
timber turning on hinges in the stern of the ship,
and which, opposing sometimes one side in the
water and sometimes another, turns or directs
the vessel this way or that. See SHIP BUILDING,
and NAVIGATION.
RUDDIMAN (Thomas), M. A., the gramma-
rian of Scotland, was born in 1674, at Raggel,
in Banff. His father, James Ruddiman, was a
farmer, and strongly attached to the house of
Stuart. His son was instructed in the principles
of Latin grammar at the parish school of Boyn-
die. At the age of sixteen he became anxious to
pursue his studies at the university ; but his
father, thinking him too young, opposed his in-
clination. Hearing of the competition trial an-
nually held at King's College, Aberdeen, for a
certain number of bursaries, Ruddiman, without
the knowledge of his father, set out for that city,
where he presented himself as a candidate, and,
though he had neither clothes to give him a de-
cent appearance, nor friends to recommend him,
he gained the first prize. After attending the
university four years he obtained the degree of
M. A. He soon after engaged as a private tutor ;
and within a year accepted the office of school-
master of Laurencekirk. When Ruddiman had
spent three years and a half in this employment,
Dr. Pitcairne invited him to Edinburgh, and
promised him his patronage. When Ruddiman
arrived in Edinburgh, the advocates' library,
which had been founded eighteen years before
by Sir George Mackenzie, attracted his attention ;
and he was soon after appointed assistant keeper,
under Mr. Spottiswoode the librarian. His
salary for executing this laborious office was £8
6s. \d. ; and he received a present of £o Scots,
£4 3s. 4d. sterling, as a mark of respect from
the faculty ! When Ruddiman's merit became
better known his assistance was anxiously soli-
cited by those engaged in literary publications.
Freebairne, a respectable bookseller of that
period, prevailed upon him to correct and pre-
pare for the press Sir Robert Sibbald's Introduc-
tio ad historiam rerum a Romanis gestarurn in
ea Borealis Britanniae parte quae ultra murum
Picticuin est. He received for his labor £3
sterling. At the request of Mr. Spottiswoode,
librarian, for £5 sterling, he contributed his aid
to the publication of Sir Robert Spottiswoode's
Practiques of the Laws of Scotland. In 1707
h,e commenced auctioneer, an employment not
very suitable to the dignified character of a man
of letters ; and published an edition of Voluseni
de Animi Tranquillitate Dialogus, to which he
prefixed the life of Volusenus. In 1709 he pub-
lished Johnstoni Cantici Solomonis Paraphrasis
Poetica, and Johnstoni Cantica with notes, which
he dedicated in Latin verse to Dr. Pitcairne.
The philological talents of Ruddiman were next
directed to a more important object. Freebairne
proposed to publish a new edition of the Scottish
translation of Virgil's #lneid by Gawin Douglas,
bishop of Dunkeld. Ruddiman corrected the
work and wrote the glossary. Ruddiman was
now invited by the magistrates of Dundee to be
rector of the grammar school of that town ; but
the faculty of advocates, anxious to retain him,
augmented his salary to £30 6s. Qd. sterling, and
he declined the offer. In 1711 he assisted bishop
Sage in publishing Drummond of Hawthorn-
den's Works. In 1713 Dr. Pitcairne died, and
Ruddiman conducted the sale of his library,
which was disposed of to Peter the Great. In
1714 he published the Rudiments of the Latin
Tongue, which soon superseded all other books
on the subject, and is still taught in all the gram-
mar-schools in Scotland. It has also been trans-
lated into other languages. He was next called
upon to publish the works of Buchanan. The
value of these he enhanced much by his elaborate
preface, his Tabula Regum Scotiae Chronologica,
and Propriorum Nominum Interpretatio. Rud-
diman also added a learned dissertation, entitled
De Metris Buchanauaeis Libellus, and subjoined
annotations, critical and political, on the History
of Scotland. He had now been so long accus-
tomed to superintend the press that he was led
to erect a printing-office himself. In 1715 he
commenced printer, in partnership with his bro-
ther Walter, who had been brought up to the
business. Some years after he was appointed
printer to the university, with James Davidson,
bookseller. In 1725 the first part of his Gram-
maticae Latinae Institutiones was published. The
second part appeared in 1731. Ruddiman nex
engaged in the management of a newspaper, the
Caledonian Mercury. Mr. Ruddiman, after the
death of Mr. Spottiswoode, librarian, remained
for some time in his former station ; but was at
length appointed keeper of the library, though
without any increase of salary. In 1 739 he pub-
lished Selectus Diplomatum et Numismatum
Scotiae Thesaurus. This work was projected
and begun by Anderson (hence called Anderson's
Diplomata), but was finished by Ruddiman.
As Ruddiman had imbibed from his father his
political prejudices in favor of the house of
Stuart, he was not an unconcerned spectator of
the civil commotions in 1745. He did not, how-
ever, take any active part in the Rebellion. He
retired to the country ; and was engaged in
writing Critical Observations on Burman's Com-
mentaries on Lucan's Pharsalia. During the last
seventeen years of his life Ruddiman was almost
incessantly engaged in controversy. He died in
Edinburgh on the 12th January, 1757, in his
eighty-third year. He was three times married,
but left behind him only one daughter, Alison,
who was married, in 1747, to James Stewart, esq.
RUD'DLE, n.s. Isl. rudul. Red earth.
Ruddle owes its color to an admixture of iron ;
and, as that is in greater or less proportion, it is of a
greater or less specific gravity, consistence, or hard-
ness. Woodward.
RUD'DOCK, n. s. Lat. rubecula. A kind
of bird. The red-breast.
Of singing birds, they have linnets and ruddocks.
Carew.
RUDDY, adj. Sax. nu'&u. Approaching to
redness ; pale red.
The ruddiness upon her lip is wet ;
You'll mar it, if you kiss it. ShaJuveare.
We may see the old man in a morning,
Lusty as health, come ruddy to the field,
RUD 70
And there pursue the chase, as if he meant
To o'ertake time, and bring back youth again.
Otway.
New leaves on every bough were seen ;
Some ruddy coloured, some of lighter green.
Dryden.
A ciown of ruddy gold enclosed her brow,
Plain without pomp. Id.
Ceres, in her prime,
Seems fertile, and with ruddiest freight bedeckt.
Philip*.
If the flesh lose its ruddiness, and look pale and
withered, you may suspect it corrupting.
II iMm'l Surgery.
If physic, or issues, will keep the complexion from
inclining to coarse, or ruddy, she thinks them well
employed. Law.
R,\JDE,adj. * Sax. jieT>e ; Fr. rude;
RCUF/LY, adv. [- Ital. rudu; Lat. rudis. Un-
HUDE'NESS, n. s. j taught ; barbarous ; rough ;
harsh : the adverb and noun substantive corre-
sponding.
Though I be rude in speech, yet not in knowledge.
2 CormUutau.
I would know what ancient ground of authority he
hath for such a senseless fable ; and if he have any
of the rutle Irish books. S/w;iser.
With his truncheon he so rudely stroke
Cynocles twice, that twice him forced his foot re-
voke. Id.
Let be thy bitter scorn,
And leave the rudeness of that antique age
To them that lived therein in state forlorn. Id.
Ruffian let go that rude uncivil touch ;
Thou friend of an ill-fashion. Shaltspeare.
I that am not shaped for sportive tricks,
I that am rudely stampt, and want love's majesty
To strut before a wanton ambling nymph. Id.
This rudeness is a sauce to his good wit,
Which gives men stomach to digest his words
With better appetite. Id. Julius C&sar.
Vane's bold answers, termed rude and ruffian-
like, furthered his condemnation. Hay ward.
What he did amiss was rather through nulem:^
and want of judgment, than any malicious meaning.
Id.
In their so rude abode,
Not the poore swineherd would forget the gods.
Chapman*
He was yet but rude in the profession of arms,
though greedy of honour. Wet ton's Buckingham.
Nor is there any nation in the world, now ac-
counted civil, but, within the memory of books, were
utterly rude and barbarous. Wilkint.
Clouds pushed with wings rude in their shock.
Milton.
Such tools as art yet rude hath formed. Id.
Spring does to flowery meadows bring,
What the rude winter from them tore. \\'aller.
You can with single look inflame
The coldest breast, the rudest tame. Id.
The water appears white near the shore, and a
ship ; because the rude agitation breaks it into foam.
Bnyle.
It was the custom to worship rude and unpolished
stones. Stillingjleet.
To his country farm the fool confined ;
llude work well suited with a rustic mind. Dryden.
My muse, though rudely, has resigned'
Some faint resemblance of his godlike mind. Id.
The public will in triumphs rudely share,
And kings the rtidenes.1 ot their joy must b«ar. Id.
It has been so usual to wiite preface j, that a man
is thought rude to his reader who does not give him
some account beforehand.
RUD
You can hardly be too sparing of water to your
housed plants ; the not observing of this destroys
more plants than all the rudenesses of the season.
Evelyn's Kalendar.
The rudeness, tyranny, the oppression and ingra-
titude of the late favorites towards their mistress,
were no longer to be born. Swift.
The rudeness, ill- nature, or perverse behaviour of
any of his flock, used at first to betray him into im-
patience ; but it now raises no other passion in him
than a desire of being upon his knees in prayer to
God for them. Law.
To win no praise when well-wrought plans pre-
vail,
But to be rudely censured when they fail ;
To doubt the love his favorites may pretend,
And in reality to find no friend. Cowper.
RUDES'BY, n. s. From rude. An uncivil
turbulent fellow. A low and deservedly obso-
lete word.
I must be forced
To give my hand, opposed against my heait,
Unto a mad-brain rudesby, full of spleen.
Shakspeare.
Out of my sight, rudesby, be gone. Id.
RU'DIMENT, n. s. } Fr. rudiment; Lat.
RUDIMEN'TAL, adj. $ rudimentum. The first
principles ; first elements of a science ; beginning
of any thing : the adjective corresponding.
Such as were trained up in the rudiments, and were
so made fit to be by baptism received into the church,
the fathers usually term hearers. Hooker.
To learn the order of my fingering,
I must begin with rudiments of art. Shukspeare.
Moss is but the rudiment of a plant, and the mould
of earth or bark. Bacon's Natural Histinry.
He was nurtured where he was born in his first
rudiments, till the years of ten, and then taught the
principles of musick. Wotton's Life of Villiers.
Thou soon shall quit
Those rudiments, and see before thine eyes
The monarchies of the' earth, their pomp, and state,
Sufficient introduction to inform
Thee, of thyself so apt, in regal arts. Milton .
The rudiments of nature are very unlike the grosser
appearances'. Glanvitle's Scepsis.
So looks our monarch on this early fight,
The' essay and rudiments of great success,
Which all-maturing time must bring to light.
Dryden.
Could it be believed that a child should be forced
to learn the rudiments of a language which he is
never to use, and neglect the writing a good hand,
and casting accounts? Locke.
The sappy boughs
Attire themselves with blossoms, sweet rudiment*
Of future harvest. Philips.
Shall that man pretend to religious attainments
who is defective and short in moral'! which are but
the rudiments, the beginnings, and first draught of
religion ; as religion is the perfection, refinement,
and sublimation of morality. South.
(ioil beholds the first imperfect rudiments of virtue
in the soul, and keeps a watchful eye over it, till it
has received every grace it is capable of.
Addison't Sfjectator.
Your first nnHiiiental essays in spectatorship were
made in my shop, where you often practised for hours
Spectatot .
O come not ye near innocence and truth,
Ye worms that eat into the bud of youth !
InlVriintis ;is impure, your Ijlijjlitiii'^ power
in i'^ riol-m- nil llio pi |1 i<t~.
RUE
Such as the halteres, or rudiments of wings, of
some two-winged insects. Darwin.
RUE, v. a. ~\ Sax.neopj-ian. To grieve
RUE'FUL, adj. f for; regret; lament: the
RUE'FTJLLY, adv. £ derivatives all correspond-
RuE'FULNESS,n.s. 3 ing.
Thou temptest me in vain ;
To tempt the thing which daily yet I rue,
And the old cause of my continued pain,
With like attempts to like end to renew. Spenser.
You'll rue the time
That clogs me with this answer. Shakspeare.
When we have our armour buckled on,
The venomed vengeance ride upon our swords,
Spur them to rueful work, rein them from ruth. Id
Oh ! treacherous was that breast to whom you
Didst trust our counsels, and we both may rue
Having his falsehood found too late, 'twas he
That made me cast you guilty, and you me. Donne.
Thy will
Chose freely what it now so justly rues. Milton.
Cocytus, named of lamentation loud,
Heard on the rueful stream. Id. Paradise Lost.
Why should an ape run away from a snail, and
very ruefully and frightfully look back, as being
afraid 1 More.
He sighed, and cast a rueful eye ,
Our pity kindles, and our passions die. Dryden.
I gaed a waefu' gate yestreen,
A gate, I fear, I'll dearly rue;
I gat my death frae twa sweet een,
Twa lovely een o' bonnie blue. Bums.
RUE, n. s. Fr. rue ; Lat. ruta. A herb, for-
merly called herb of grace, because holy water
was sprinkled with it.
What savor is better,
For places infected, than wormwood and rue 1
Tusser.
Here did she drop a tear ; here, in this place,
I'll set a bank of rue, sour herb of grace ;
Rue, even for Ruth, here shortly shall be seen,
In the remembrance of a weeping queen.
Shakspeare. Richard' II.
The weasel, to encounter the serpent, arms herself
with eating of rue. More.
RUE, in botany. See RUTA.
RUE, DOG'S. See SCROPHULARTA.
RUE (Charles de la), a French orator and
poet, born in Paris in 1643. He was educated
at the college of the Jesuits, where he became a
professor of humanity and rhetoric. In 1667
he composed a Latin poem on the conquests of
Louis XIV., which was so much esteemed by
Corneille that he translated it into French, pre-
sented it to the king, and passed such high
encomiums on the superior merit of the original
that the author was received into the favor of
that monarch. De la Rue became one of the
most eminent preachers of his age. He died in
Paris on the 27th of May, 1725, aged eighty-
two. He published Panegyrics, Funeral Ora-
tions, and Sermons. His best sermon is entitled
Des Calamities Publiques, and his most admired
funeral oration was composed on the prince of
Luxemburg. There are also tragedies of his
writing, both in Latin and French, which were
approved by Corneille. He was one of those
learned men who published editions of the
classics for the use of the Dauphin. Virgil,
which fell to his share, was published with notes,
and a life of the poet, in 1675, 4to.
71 RUF
RUELLE', n. s. Fr. ruelle. A circle; an as-
sembly at a private house. Not used.
The poet, who flourished in the scene, is con-
demned in the ruelle. Dryden's Preface to JEneis.
RUELLIA, in botany, a genus of the angio-
spermia order, and didynamia class of plants ;
natural order fortieth, personatae : CAL. quinque-
partite : COR. sub-campanulated ; the stamina
approaching together in pairs : CAPS, springing
asunder by means of its elastic segments. Spe-
cies forty-six ; shrubs of Asia, Africa, and Ame-
rica.
RUFF, n. s. 1 Both from rough.
RUF'FLE, r.«.,t-.n.&n. s. $ A puckered linen
ornament for the neck or wrists: to wrinkle;
disorder ; roughen ; discompose ; to grow rough
or turbulent : disturbance : ruff is also a river
fish.
We'll revel it
With ruffs, and cuffs, and fardingals. Shakspeare.
Naughty lady,
These hairs, which thou dost ravish from my chin,
Will quicken and accuse thee : I'm your host ;
With robbers' hands, my hospitable favours
You should not ruffle thus. Id.
Were I Brutus,
And Brutus Antony, there were an Antony
Would ruffle up your spirits, and put a tongue
In every wound of Caesar, that should move
The stones of Rome to rise and mutiny. Id.
The night comes on, and the high winds
Do sorely ruffle ; for many miles about
There's scarce a bush. Id.
A valiant son-in-law thou shalt enjoy ;
One fit to bandy with thy lawless sons,
To ruffle in the commonwealth of Rome. Id.
They would ruffle with jurors, and inforce them to
find as they would direct. Bacon's Henry VII.
Like an uproar in the town,
Before them every thing went down,
Some tore a ruff, and some a gown. Dray ton.
Sooner may a gulling weather spy,
By drawing forth heaven's scheme, tell certainly,
What fashioned hats, or ruffs, or suits next year,
Our giddy-headed antick youth will wear. Donne.
Within a thicket I reposed, when round
I ruffled up fallen leaves in heap, and found,
Let fall from heaven, a sleep interminate.
Chapman.
The knight found out
The' advantage of the ground, where best
He might the ruffled foe infest. Hudibrat.
We are transported by passions, and our minds
ruffled by the disorders of the body ; nor yet can we
telt how ^he soul should be affected by such kind of
agitations. CUtnville.
A ruff or pope is much like the pearch for shape,
and taken to be better ; but will not grow bigger than
a gudgeon : he is an excellent fish, and of a pleasant
taste. Walton.
In changeable taffeties, differing colours emerge
and vanish upon the ruffling of the same piece of silk.
Boyle.
As she first began to rise,
She smoothed the ruffled seas, and cleared the skies.
Dry den.
The rising winds a ruffling gate afford. Id.
The fiery courser, when he hears from far
The sprightly trumpets and the shouts of war,
On his right shoulder his thick mane reef ned,
Ruffles at speed, and dances in the wind. Id.
How many prince? that, in the ruff of all their
RUF
glory, have been taken down from the head of a con-
quering army to the wheel of the victor's chariot !
L'Ettrange.
The ladies freed the neck from those yokes, those
linen rufft, in which the simplicity of their grand-
mothers had enclosed it. Addison's Guardian.
A small skirt of fine ruffed, linen, running along
the upper part of tht stays before, is called the
modesty -piece. Addison.
The tucker is a slip of fine linen, run in a small
ruffle round the uppermost verge of the women's stays.
Id.
I reared this flower.
Soft on the paper ruff its leaves I spread. Pope.
Bear me. some god ! oh quickly bear me hence
To wholesome solitude, the nurse of sense :
Where contemplation prunes her ruffled wings,
And the free soul looks down to pity kings. Id.
Conceive the mind's perception of some object, and
the consequent ruffle or commotion of the blood.
Watts.
RUFFHEAD (Dr. Owen), was the son of a
baker in Piccadilly, who educated him for the
law. He entered in the Middle Temple ; and,
while be was waiting for opportunities to dis-
tinguish himself in his profession, he wrote a
variety of pamphlets on temporary politics ; and
was afterwards distinguished by his accurate
edition of The Statutes at Large, in 4to. He
now obtained good business, though more as a
chamber counsellor in framing bills for parlia-
ment than as a pleader ; but his close applica-
tion to study, with the variety of works he en-
gaged in as an author, impaired his constitution.
He died in 1769, aged forty-six. Some time
before his death bishop Warburton engaged him
to write his long promised Life of Alexander
Pope ; which, however, when executed, was
very far from giving general satisfaction.
RUFFIAN, n. s. & v. n. Teut. ruffian;
Ital. ruffiuno; Fr. ruffien, a bawd. Perhaps,
says Dr. Johnson, it may be best derived from
the old Teutonic word which we now write
rough. A brutal, boisterous fellow; a cut-
throat; a robber: to play the ruffian.
Have you a ruffian that will swear ? drink ? dance ?
Revel the night ? rob 1 murder ? Shakspeare.
A fuller blast ne'er shook our battlements ;
If it hath ruffianed so upon the sea,
\\hat ribs of oak when mountains melt on them.
Can hold the mortise ? Id. Othello.
Sir Ralph Vane's bold answers, termed rude and
r«/frjrt-like, falling into ears apt to take offence,
furthered his condemnation. Hmyward.
The boasted ancestors of these great men.
Whose virtues you admire, were all such ruffiant ;
This dread of nations, this almighty Rome,
That comprehends in her wide empire's bounds
All under heaven, was founded on a rape.
Additon't Cato.
Experienced age
May timely intercept the ruffian lage ;
•Jonvene the tribes. Pope'$ Odyuey-
RUFINUS, a celebrated Italian, born about
the middle of the fourth century at Concordia.
He applied himself to the belles lettres, and
studied eloquence at Aquileia. He then devoted
himself to theology. St. Jerome happening to
pass through Aquileia, Rufinus formed aa inti-
mate friendship with him ; but was soon de-
prived of his company, as he continued his
travels through France and Germany, and then
72 RUG
set out for the east. Rufinus resolved to follow
him ; embarked for Egypt ; and, having visited
the hermits in the deserts, repaired to Alexan-
dria to hear the renowned Didymus. The
Arians, who ruled in the reiun of Valens, per-
secuted Rufinus : threw him into a dungeon,
loaded him with chains, and, finally, banished
him to the deserts of Palestine. From this
exile he was relieved by St. Melania, who em-
ployed her wealth in ransoming those confessors
who had been imprisoned or banished. He
went next to Jerusalem ; and having built a
monastery on Mount Olivet he there assembled
a great number of hermits. He converted many
to the Christian faith, and persuaded above 400
hermits who had joined in the schism of Antioch
to return to the Catholic church. Rufinus,
having published a translation of the principles
of Origen, was summoned to appear before pope
Anastasius, at Rome. But he sent an apology
for not appearing, with a vindication of his
work, in which he attempted to prove that cer-
tain errors, of which Origen had been accused,
were consistent with the opinions of the ortho-
dox. St. Jerome attacked Rufinus's translation.
Rufinus composed an elegant reply, in which he
said that, being only the translator of Origen, he
was not bound to sanction his errors. In 407
he returned to Rome ; but in 408, that city being
threatened by Alaric, he retired to Sicily, where
he died in 410. His works are, 1. A Transla-
tion of Josephus. 2. A Translation of several
works of Origen. 3. A Latin Version of Ten
Discourses of Gregory Nazianzen, and Eight of
Basil. 4. A Translation of the Ecclesiastical
History of Eusebius, which engaged him nearly
ten years. He made many additions to the
work, and continued the history from the twen-
tieth year of Constantine to the death of Theo-
dosius the Great. 5. A Vindication of Origen.
6. Two Apologies, addressed to St. Jerome.
7. Commentaries on the prophets Hosea, Joel,
arfd Amos. 8. Lives of the Hermits. 9. An
Explanation of the Creed.
RUFUS, the surname of William II. king of
England. See ENGLAND.
RUG, n. s. Swed. rugget, rough. A rough,
nappy, woollen cloth : a rough dog.
Mongrels, spaniels, curs,
Shoughes, water nigs, and demy wolves are cleped
All by the name of dogs. Shakspeare. Macbeth.
January must be expressed with a horrid and fear-
ful aspect, clad in Irish rug or coarse freeze.
Peacham on Drawing.
The vungus resembleth a goat, but greater and
more profitable ; of the fleece whereof they make rug*,
covenngs, and stuffs. Heylin.
A rug was o'er his shoulders thrown ;
A rug ; for nightgown he had none. Su-ift.
RUGBY, a market town and parish of War-
wickshire, eighty-five miles from London, is
pleasantly situated near the Avon. Rugby is
chiefly remarkable for its celebrated grammar-
school, founded in 1567. The church is a com-
modious structure, and there are places of wor-
ship for dissenters. Market on Saturday ; there
are also some annual fairs.
RUG EN, an island of the Baltic, separated
from Pomerania by the strait of Gellen. Its
shape is so very irregular that no determinate
RUG
73
RUG
length or breadth would give any idea of its
size, but it is calculated to contain 142,000
acres. It consists of the island Proper and three
peninsulas, Jasmund on the north-east, Wittow
on the north, and Monguth on the south-east.
These different parts have several elevations,
called mountains by the natives. The peninsula
of Jasmund is terminated by a promontory of
chalky cliffs, resembling the ruins of an immense
building, interspersed with trees, and from which
a torrent tumbles with impetuosity into the sea,
above which the highest part of the promontory
is 430 feet. The peninsula of Wittow fcalso
terminates in a similar but less elevated pro-
montory, named Arcona. Chalk predominates
in these two peninsulas ; the general soil of the
other parts is sand and clay mixed with shells;
blocks of granite are also met with, and the
north coast, in particular, is covered with pyrites,
fragments of coral and jasper, and porphyry.
It also affords china earth and clays for pottery.
The island is well watered by lakes and rivu-
lets, and produces all kinds of grain and vege-
tables in the greatest abundance. It has good
horses and excellent horned cattle, but the sheep
are inferior. The wild animals are deer, hares,
and foxes. The Rugeners breed great quantities
of geese, which they smoke for exportation. In
the middle of the peninsula of Jasmund, 400
feet above the sea, is a large lake, near which
are several ancient mounds and ramparts of
earth, supposed by the natives to be the burying
places of the Huns, a number of earthen vases
being found in the mounds. These mounds, of
which there are others in various parts of the
island, are called Hunengraebre, which properly
signifies giant's grave : they are usually between
forty and sixty feet long. Rudely cut large
square stones are also met with in several parts
of the island, which are supposed to have served
as altars. The Rugeners are extremely indus-
trious, the produce of the soil, their cattle,
geese, and the herring fishery, supplying them
with objects of foreign commerce, and which
they export from some roads (the island having
no port), and particularly from the village of
Schaprode on the west. The annual export of
corn from the island is 1600 lasts. The island
has two towns and several villages. Bergen,
the chief place, is near the north-east part of the
island of Rugen Proper, and situated on an
eminence that commands a view of the greater
part of the island. It has from 1500 to 1600
inhabitants. Saagard, the second town, is on
the interior of the peninsula of Jasmund, has
800 inhabitants, and near it is a mineral spring,
resorted to both by the natives and strangers.
The population of the island is 25,000.
Rugen belonged to Denmark from the twelfth
to the fourteenth century, when it passed by con-
vention to the dukes of Pomerania, whose
house becoming extinct, Sweden got possession
of its territories by the peace of Westphalia, in
1648, when Rugen was etected into a princi-
pality, to which was attached the office of grand
huntsman of the empire. The language of the
inhabitants is German, with a partial mixture of
Swedish and Danish, and the manners and
usages are the same as 'those of the north of
Germany. The peasants, however, were not
emancipated from a state of vassalage till 1806.
This island was acquired by Prussia, with the
rest of Pomerania, in 1814. The neighbouring
parts of the continent being a monotonous level,
the island of Rugen is visited for its picturesque
beauties by many Germans, one of whom has
elegantly celebrated the promontory of Arcona,
the rocks of Jasmund, and its sacred woods
and tumuli. The coasts are celebrated in the
annals of shipwreck, scarcely a year passing
without several vessels being stranded on the
shores of the peninsulas and on Hidensee. Se-
veral ancient regulations are still in force re-
specting shipwrecks. When a vessel makes the
signal of distress, the inhabitants of the coast
are bound to hasten to her assistance, and first
to endeavour to save the crew. The persons
who arrive first are entitled to a preference for
salvage, but none is to enfbrce his services if the
crew is alone able to save the cargo. The small
islands dependent on Rugen are numerous ; the
principal is Hidensee on the west, whose inha-
bitants have little external communications ;
they speak a rude dialect of the high German,
mixed with many Danish, Swedish, and obso-
lete Teutonic words. Their occupations are
rearing a few cattle, whose dung is their princi-
pal fuel, the island having no wood ; fishing for
their subsistence, and collecting the amber which
is occasionally driven on the shores. Unmantz
island, also on the west, is next in consideration ;
and all the others, amounting to upwards of a
dozen, are insignificant.
RUG'GED, adj. Swed. rugget. Rough; full
of unevenness or asperity.
His hair is sticking ;
His well-proportioned beard made rough and rugged
Like to the summer's corn by tempest lodged.
Shahspeare.
Now bind my brows with iron, and approach
The rugged'st hour that time and spite dare bring.
To frown upon the enraged Northumberland. Id.
Hardness and ruggedness is unpleasant to the touch.
Baciin.
Through forests wild,
To chase the lion, boar, or rugged bear. Fairfax.
Nature, like a weak and weary traveller,
Tired with a tedious and rugged way. Denham.
Fierce Talgol, gathering might,
With nigged truncheon charged the knight.
Hudibras.
Syrups immediately abate and demulce the hoarse-
ness and violence of a cough, by mollifying the
ruggedness of the intern tunick of the gullet.
Harvey.
A monosyllable line turns verse to prose, and
even that prose is rugged and unhaimonious.
Dry den.
This softness of the foot, which yields and fits
itself to the ruggedness and unevenness of the roads,
does render it less capable of being worn. Ray.
The greatest favours to such an one neither soften
nor win upon him ; neither melt nor endear him, but
leave him as hard, rugged, and unconcerned as ever.
South.
Since the earth revolves not upon a material and
rugged, but a geometrical plane, their proportions
may be varied in innumerable degrees. Benttey.
RUGENDAS (George Philip), a celebrated
painter, born at Augsburg, in 1666. He excelled
RUI
in painting sieges, battles, &c., though he painted
with the left hand. He died 1742.
RUGGLES (George), M. A., a dramatic
writer, who flourished in the reign of king
James I. He wrote a humorous Latin play,
entitled Ignoramus, which was acted before the
king on the 8th of March, 1615, at the university
of Cambridge.
RUG'IN, n. s. From RUG. A nappy cloth.
The lips grew so painful that she could not endure
the wiping the ichor from it with a soft ru^in with
her own hand. Wiseman's Surgery.
RU'GINE, n.s. Fr. ruginc. A chirurgeon's
rasp.
If new flesh should not generate, bore little ori-
fices into the bone, or rasp it with the rugine.
Sharp.
RUGOSE', adj. Lat. rugosus. Full of
wrinkles.
It is a relaxation of the sphincter to such a de-
gree that the internal rugose coat of the intestine
turneth out, and beareth down. Wiseman's Surgery.
RU'IN, n. *., v. a., & v.n.^1 Fr. mine; Lat.
RTJ'INATE, v. a. j ruina. The fall
RUINA'TION, n. s. I or destruction of
RU'INER, \ edifices ; the re-
RU'INOUS, adj. I mains of such edi-
Ru'fNOUSLY, adv\ j fices ; destruction ;
mischief: to ruin and ruinate (the latter disused)
both mean to subvert ; destroy : ruin, verb neuter,
to fall into destruction : the other derivatives
correspond in sense.
Though he his house of polished marble build,
Yet shall it ruin like the moth's frail cell,
Or sheds of reeds, which summer's heat repel.
Sandys.
So shall the great revenger ruinate
Him and his issue by a dreadful fate. Id.
He parted frowning from me, as if ruin
Leant from his eyes. Shatepeare. Henry VIII.
Roman coins were overcovered in the ground, in
the sudden ruination of towns by the Saxons.
Camden's llemains.
The errors of young men are the ruin of business.
Bacon.
The Romans came to pull down kingdoms ; Philip
and Nabis were already ruinated, and now was his
turn to be assailed. Id.
It is less dangerous, when divers parts of a tower
are decayed, and the foundation firm, than when the
foundation is ruinous. Huyward.
What offence of such impietie
Hath Priam or his sonnes done thee? that with so
high a hate
Thou shouldst thus ceaselessly desire to raze and
ruinate
So well a builded town as Troy ? Chapman.
This Ulysses, old Laertes' sonne,
That dwells in Ithaca ; and name hath wonne
Of citie ruiner. Id.
If real uneasinesses may be admitted to be as de-
terring as imaginary ones, his own decree will retort
the most ruinously on himself. Decay of Piety.
Havock, and soil, and min are my gain. Milton.
Hell heard the unsufFerablc noise ; hell saw
Heaven ruining from heaven, and would have fled
Affrighted, but strict fate had fixed too deep
Her dark foundations, and too fast had bound. Id.
The birds,
After a night of storm so ruinous,
Cleared up their choicest notes in bush and spray,
To gratulate the sweet return of morn. Id.
74 RUL
Loud rung the ruin, and, with boistrous fear,
Strait revelled in the queen's amazed ear.
Beaumont.
Those whom God to ruin has designed,
He fits their fate, and first destroys their mind.
Dry den.
A nation loving gold must rule this place,
Our temples ruin, and our rites deface. Id.
If we are idle, and disturb the industrious in their
business, we shall ruin the faster. Locke,
The Veian and the Gabian towers shall fall,
And one promiscuous ruin cover all ;
Nor, after length of years, a stone betray
The^jHace where once the very ruins lay. Additon.
She would ruin me in silks, were not the quantity
that goes to a large pincushion sufficient to make her
a gown and petticoat. Id.
Judah shall fall oppressed by grief and shame,
And men shall from her ruins know her fame.
Prior.
Those successes are more glorious which bring be-
nefit to the world, than such ruinous ones as are
dyed in human blood. Granville'i Preface.
A confident dependence ill grounded creates such
a negligence as will certainly ruin us in the end.
Wake.
Such a fool was never found,
Who pulled a palace to the ground,
Only to have the ruins made
Materials for a house decayed. Swift.
A stop might be put to that ruinous practice of
gaming. Id.
RUINART (Thierry, or Theodoric), a learned
French divine, born at Rheims in 1657. He
became a Benedictine monk in 1674. Mabillon
chose him for his assistant in his literary labors.
In 1689 he published ActaPrimorum Martyrum
Sincera, &c., 4to. He also published several
other learned works. When Mabillon died, in
1707, he was appointed to continue his work;
but died in travelling to Champagne, in quest of
new memoirs, in 1709.
RUIZIA, in botany, a genus of the polyandria
order, and monadelphia class of plants ; natural
order thirty-seventh, columniferae : CAL. double;
external triphyllous ; internal parted into five :
COR. consisting of five petals, inclining to the
right hand side, and adhering to the stamina,
which are from thirty to forty. It has ten styli,
and as many capsulffi. These are compressed
and membranous. In each capsule are two
seeds. There are four species, viz. —
1. R. cordata. 2. R. laciniata. 3. R. loba-
ta; and 4. R. palmata; all of which are natives
of Asia, and the Cape of Good Hope.
RULE, n. s., v. a., & ) Sax. nejjole ; Teut.
RU'LER, n. s. [v. n. ] and Belg. regel; Ital.
regola; Span, regla ; Lat. regula. Government;
sway; empire ; any thing by which other things
are regulated ; canon; precept; and, in an ob-
solete sense, regularity : as a verb active, to
control ; govern ; manage ; or settle : as a verb
neuter to have power or command, taking over
before the object : a ruler is one who possesses
superior power or command : any instrument of
rule or guidance.
A wise servant shall have rule over a son that
causeth shame. Proverbs xvii. 2.
Judah yet ruleth with God, and is faithful with
the saints. llosea xi. 12.
He sought to take unto him the ruling of the af-
fairs. 1 Mac.
RUL
75
RUM
Soon rulers grow proud, and in their pride foolish.
Sidney.
I am ashamed, that women
Should seek for rule, supremacy, or sway,
When they are bound to serve, love, and obey.
Shukxpeare.
Some say he's mad ; others,%that lesser hate him,
Do call it valiant fury ; but, for certain,
He cannot buckle his distempered cause
Within the belt of rule. Id.
It is a purposed thing
To curb the will of the nobility ;
Suffer't, and live with such as cannot rule,
Nor ever will be ruled. Id. Coriolanvs.
God, by his eternal providence, has ordained
kings ; and the law of nature, leaders and rulers
over others. Raleigh.
Adam's sin did not deprive him of his rule, but
left the creatures to a reluctation. Bacon.
How easily have these rulers discouraged a faint-
hearted people* Bp. Hall's Contemplations.
If your influence be quite dammed up
With black usurping mists, some gentle taper,
Though a rush candle from the wicker hole
Of some clay habitation, visit us
With thy long levelled rule of streaming light.
Milton.
Thrice happy men ! whom God hath thus ad-
vanced !
Created in his image, there to dwell,
And worship him ; and in reward to rule
Over his works. Milton's Paradise Lost.
He laid this rule before him, which proved of
great use ; never to trouble himself with the fore-
sight of future events. Fell.
We profess to have embraced a religion which
contains the most exact rules for the government of
our lives. Tillotson.
Know'st with an equal hand to hold the scale ;
See'st where the reasons pinch, and where they fail,
•Vnd where exceptions o'er the general rule prevail.
Dryden.
Rome ! 'tis thine alone with awful sway,
1 o rule mankind, and make the world obey,
Disposing peace and war thy own majestic way.
Id.
There being no law of nature, nor positive law of
God. that determines which is the positive heir, the
right of succession, and consequently of bearing rule,
could not have been determined. Locke.
We subdue and rule over all other creatures ; and
use for our own behoof those qualities wherein they
excel. Bay.
They know how to draw a straight line between
two points by the side of a ruler. Moxon.
A judicious artist will use his eye, but he will
trust only to his rule. South's Sermon*.
This makes them apprehensive of every tendency
to endanger that form of rule established by the law
of their country. Addison.
The pompous mansion was designed
To please the mighty rulers of mankind ;
Inferior temples use on either hand. Id.
Had he done it with the pope's license, his adver-
saries must have been silent ; for that's a ruled case
with the schoolmen. Atterbury.
Seven years the traitor rich Mycena; swayed ;
And his stern rule the groaning land obeyed. Pope.
Instruct me whence this uproar ;
And wherefore Vanoe, the sworn friend to Rome,
Should spurn against our rule and stir
The tributary provinces to war? A. Philips Briton.
A rule that relates even to the smallest oart of our
life is of great benefit to as, merely as it is a rule.
law.
It was not easy to determine by what rule of dis-
tinction the words of this dictionary were to be
chosen. Johnson. Plan of Dictionary.
B. I grant that men continuing what they are,
Fierce, avaricious, proud, there must be war ;
And never meant the rule should be applied
To him that fights with justice on his side. Coieper.
RULE, in a monastic sense, a system of laws
or regulations, whereby religious houses are go
verned, and which the religious make a vow at
their entrance to observe. Such are the rules of
the Augustins, Benedictins, Carthusians, Fran-
ciscans, &c.
RULES OF COURT, in law, are certain orders
made from time to time in the courts of law,
which attorneys are bound to observe, in order
to avoid confusion ; and both the plaintiff and
defendant are at their peril also bound to pay
obedience to rules made in court relating to the
cause depending between them. It is to be ob-
served that no court will make a rule for any
thing that may be done in the ordinary course ;
and that if a rule be made, grounded upon an
affidavit, the other side may move the court against
it, in order to vacate the same, and thereupon
shall bring into court a copy of the affidavit and
rule. On the breach and contempt of a rule of
court an attachment lies ; but it is not granted
for disobedience to a rule, when the party has not
been personally served ; nor for disobeying a
rule made by a judge in his chamber, which is
not of force to ground a motion upon, unless the
same be entered.
RUM, n.s. From the liquor; often vulgarly
called kill-devil. A country parson. A cant
word, worthy the dean of St. Patrick's.
I'm grown a mere mopus ; no company comes,
But a rabble of tenants and rusty dull nans. Swift.
RUM, a species of vinous spirit, distilled
from sugar-canes. Rum, according to Dr. Shaw,
differs from simple sugar spirit, in that it con-
tains more of the natural flavor or essential oil
of the sugar-cane ; a great deal of raw juice and
parts of the cane itself being fermented in the
liquor or solution of which the rum is prepared.
The unctuous or oily flavor of rum is often sup-
posed to proceed from the large quantity of fat
used in boiling the sugar; which fat, indeed, if
coarse, will usually give a stinking flavor to the
spirit in our distillations of the sugar liquor or
wash, from our refining sugar-houses ; but this
is nothing of kin to the flavor of the rum, which
is really the effect of the natural flavor of the
cane. The method of making rum is this : — When
a sufficient stock of the materials is gathered to-
gether, they add water to them, and ferment
them in the common method, though the fer-
mentation is always carried on very slowly at
first ; because, at the beginning of the season for
making rum in the islands, they want yeast or
some other ferment to make it work ; but by de-
grees, after this, they procure a sufficient quan-
tity of the ferment, which rises up as a head to
the liquor in the operation ; and thus they are
able afterwards to ferment and make their rum
with a great deal of expedition, and in large
quantities. When the wash is fully fermented,
or to a due degree of acidity, the distillation is
carried on in the common way, and the spirit is
RUM 76
made up proof : though sometimes it is raised
10 a much greater strength, nearly approaching
to that of alcohol or spirit of wine ; and it is
then called double distilled rum. It might be
easy to rectify the spirit, and bring it to much
greater purity than we usually find it to be of;
for it brings over in the distillation a very large
quantity of the oil ; and this often so disagree-
able that the rum must be suffered to lie by a
long time to mellow before it can be used ;
whereas, if well rectified, it would grow mellow
much sooner, and would have a much less potent
flavor. The best state to keep rum in, both for
exportation and other uses, is that of alcohol or
rectified spirit. In this form it might be trans-
ported in one-half the bulk it usually is, and
might be let down to the common proof strength
with water when necessary : for the common use,
of- making punch, it would likewise serve much
better in the state of alcohol ; as the taste would
be cleaner, and the strength might always be
regulated to a much greater exactness than in
the ordinary way. The only use to which it
•would not so well serve, in this state, would be
the common practice of adulteration among our
distillers ; for, when they want to mix a large
portion of cheaper spirit with the rum, their
business is to have it of the proof strength, and
as full of the flavoring oil as they can, that may
drown the flavor of the spirits they mix with it,
and extend its own. If the business of rectify-
ing rum were more nicely managed, it seems a
very practicable scheme to throw out so much
of the oil as to have it in the fine light state of
a clear spirit, but lightly impregnated with it :
in this case it would very nearly resemble arrack,
as is proved by the mixing a very small quan-
tity of it with a tasteless spirit, in which case
the whole bears a very near resemblance to ar-
rack in flavor. Rum is usually very much adul-
terated in Britain : some are so barefaced 'as to
do it with malt spirit ; but, when it is done with
molasses spirit, the tastes of both are so nearly
allied that it is not easily discovered. The best
method of judging of it is by setting fire to a
little of it ; and, when it has burnt away all the
inflammable part, examining the phlegm both by
the taste and smell.
RUM, an island of Scotland, one of the He-
brides, seven miles west of Eigg, and included
in the county of Argyll. It is about eight miles
long, and nearly as broad, containing a surface
of above 22,000 square acres of hilly, rocky,
and mountainous ground, chiefly fitted for pas-
ture. Great numbers of small Shetland sheep
are fed upon it, whose wool is remarkably fine.
This island formerly abounded with wood and
deer; but, the woods being destroyed, the deer
have disappeared. The only harbour is Loch
Serefort, which is spacious, and has good anchor-
age, from five to seven fathoms water.
RUM KEY, one of the Bahamas, situated
about eight or nine leagues east from the north
end of Long Island, and ten north from Great
Harbour. It is under cultivation at present,
and the acres of patented estates granted by the
crown for this purpose, previously to May 1803,
amounted to 11,738.
II use RIVER, a river of North America, having
RUM
its source in Le Mille Lac, thirty-five miles
south of Lower Red Cedar Lake, and falling
into .the Mississippi. It is about fifty yards
wide at its mouth, and the small Indian canoes
ascend quite to the lake.
RUM'BLE, v. n. Teut. rummelen ; Belg.
rommelen. To make a hoarse low noise.
. At the rushing of his chariots, and at the rumbling
of his wheels, the fathers shall not look, back to their
children for feebleness.
Jeremiah xlvii. 3.
The trembling streams, which wont in channels
clear
To rumble gently down with murmur soft,
And were by them right tuneful taught to bear
A base's part amongst their consorts oft,
Now forced to overflow with brackish tears,
With, troublous noise did dull their dainty ears.
Spemer.
Rumble thy belly fujl ; spit fire, spout rain ;
Nor rain wind thunder are my daughters ;
I tax not you, you elements, with unkindness.
Shahtpeare
Our courtier thinks that he's preferred whom every
man envies ;
When love so rumbles in his pate, no sleep comes in
his eyes. Suckling.
Apollo starts, and all Parnassus shakes
At the rude rumbling Baralipton makes.
Rvscommon.
The fire she fanned, with greater fury burned
Rumbling within. Dryden.
On a sudden there was heard a most dreadful
rumbling noise within the entrails of the machine,
after which the mountain burst. Add'ucn.
Seve.ral monarchs have acquainted me, how often
they have been shook from their respective thrones by
the rumbling of a wheel-barrow. Spectatur.
RUMELIA, or ROMELIA, a province of Eu-
ropean Turkey, containing all the north parts of
Greece and the capital of the Ottoman empire,
Constantinople. It is one of the best peopled
parts of Turkey : but so deficient are the Turks
in statistical information, even in immediate re-
ference to their own country, that the distribution
of the inhabitants over its widely extended sur-
face, and the comparative population of the dif-
ferent provinces, cannot be stated with precision.
See TURKEY, for the best accounts we are able
to obtain.
RUMEX, dock, in botany, a genus of the tri-
gynia order, and hexandria class of plants ; natural
order twelfth, holoraceffi : CAL. triphyllous; there
are three connivent petals, and one quetrous seed.
There are thirty-seven species, of which the most
remarkable are these :
1. R. acutus, or sharp pointed dock (the oxyla-
pathum of the shops). The roots of this are
slender, and »run straight down, sending out a.
few small fibres ; the stalks rise about two feet
high, garnished at bottom with leaves four inches
long, and one 'and a half broad in the middle.
They are rounded at their base, where they are
slightly indented, but end in acute points. From
the joints of the stalks cpme out alternately long •
foot-stalks, which sustain the spikes of flowers,
which grow in small whorls round the stalks, at
about an inch distant.
2. R. alpinus, monk's rhubarb, grows natu-
rally on the Alps, but has long been cultivated
in the gardens of this country. It has large
RUM
77
RUM
roots, which spread and multiply by their offsets :
they are shorter and thicker than the patientia,
are of a very dark brown on the outside, and
yellow within. The leaves are of the round
heart-shape, standing upon long foot-stalks. The
stalks rise from two to three feet high; they are
thick, and, have a few small roundish leaves on
the lower part, but the upper part is closely gar-
nished with spikes of white flowers standing
erect close to the stalks. These appear in the
end of May, and are succeeded by large trian-
gular seeds, which ripen in August.
3. R. aquaticus, the water-dock, grows natu-
rally in ponds, ditches, and standing waters, in
many parts of Britain. It is supposed to be
the herba Britannica of the ancients. It has
large roots, which strike deep into the loose mud,
sending out leaves about two feet long. The
stalks rise five or six feet high, when the plants
grow in water, but in dryland seldom more than
three ; these are garnished wkh narrow leaves
among the spikes of flowers to the top. The
flowers stand upon slender foot-stalks, which are
reflexed ; they are of an herbaceous color, ap-
pear in June, and the seeds ripen in autumn.
4. R. patientia, patience rhubarb, was for-
merly much more cultivated in the British gar-
dens than at present. The root is large, and
divides into many thick fibres; their outer coyer
is brown, but yellow within, with some reddish
veins ; the leaves are broad, long, and acute-
pointed ; their foot-stalks are of a reddish color ;
the stalks rise six or seven feet high, and divide
towards the top into several erect branches, gar-
nished with a few narrow leaves, terminating
with loose spikes of large staminous flowers.
These appear in June, and are succeeded by
pretty large three-cornered seeds, whose cover-
ings are entire, which ripen in autumn. These
plants are but seldom cultivated ; and so easily
multiply by their numerous seeds that they soon
become troublesome weeds where they once get
an entrance.
RUMFORD. See ROMFORD.
RUMFORD, COUNT, so called from the title
conferred on him by the elector of Bavaria, was
born in Woburn, New England, in 1752. His
name was Benjamin Thompson. He acquired,
when young, a knowledge of natural philosophy,
by the aid of the professor of that science in the
college of Cambridge. He then employed him-
self as a teacher, till he was raised to inde-
pendence by an advantageous marriage, when he
became a major in the militia of his native pro-
vince ; and when the war took place between
Great Britain and her colonies, his local know-
ledge enabled him to render services of import-
ance to the English commanders. He went to
England, and, as the reward of his services, ob-
tained a situation in the foreign office, under
lord. George Germaine. Towards the close of
the war, he was sent to New York, where he
raised a regiment of dragoons, "of which he was
appointed colonel, and thus became entitled to
half-pay. Returning to England in 1784, he
received the honor of knighthood, and was for
some time one of the under secretaries of state.
Soon after, he went to the continent, and, through
the recommendation of the prince of Deux-
Ponts (afterwards king of Bavaria), entered into
the service of the reigning elector-palatine and
duke of Bavaria, when he effected many impor-
tant and useful reforms in both the civil and
military departments of the state. Among these
was a scheme for the suppression of mendicity,
which he carried into execution at Munich and
other parts of the Bavarian territories, providing
labor for able-bodied paupers, and exciting a
spirit of industry among the lower orders of the
people in general. As the re\vard of his suc-
cess in this and other undertakings, he received
from the sovereign of Bavaria various orders of
knighthood, was made a lieutenant-general, and
created count Rumford. He left Bavaria in
1799, and returned to England, where he em-
ployed himself in making experiments on the
nature and application of heat, and on other
subjects of economical and philosophical re-
search. He likewise suggested the plan, and
assisted in the foundation, of the royal institu-
tion, which led to other establishments of a
similar description. In 1802, he removed to
Paris, where he took up his residence ; and, his
wife being dead, he married the widow of the
celebrated Lavoisier; but the union proved un-
fortunate, and a separation ere long took place.
Count Kumford then retired to a country house
at Auteuil, about four miles from Fans, and
there devoted his time to the embellishment of
his domain, and to the cultivation of chemistry
and experimental philosophy. Though he dis-
liked both the character and politics of the
French, he preferred the climate of their country
to every other ; and he therefore procured per-
mission from the king of Bavaria to continue in
France, and retain the pension of 1200 pounds
a year, granted him by that prince. He died in
August, 1814, leaving by his first wife a daugh-
ter, who resided at Boston, in the United States.
Count Rumford was by no means a man of
learning, his literary acquirements being con-
fined to the English, French and German lan-
guages ; but he was familiar with the discoveries
and improvements of modern science, and the
industry and perseverance with which he pur-
sued his inquiries enabled him to make con-
siderable additions to our knowledge of chemistry
and practical philosophy. Besides a great num-
ber of papers in various scientific journals, he
published four volumes of Essays, experimental,
political, economical, and philosophical.
RU'MINANT, adj: } French iruminer;
RU'MINATE, v. n, & v. a. > Lat. rumino. Hav-
RUMINA'TION, n. *. ) ing the power of
chewing the cud : to chew the cud : hence to
muse; reflect: as a verb active, to chew over
again ; muse on : the noun substantive corre-
sponding.
The condemned English
Sit patiently, and inly ruminate
The morning's danger. Shalupeart.
Mad with desire she ruminates her sin,
And wishes all her wishes o'er again ;
Now she despairs, and now resolves to try,
Would not, and would again, she knows not why.
Dry den.
Ruminant creatures have a power of directing
this perisialtick motion upwards and downwards.
Ray.
RUN
78
RUN
RUMINANT, in natural history, is applied to
an animal which chews over again what it has
eaten before. Peyer, in a Treatise De Rumi-
nantibus et Ruminatione, shows that there are
some animals \vhich really ruminate, as oxen,
sheep, deer, goats, camels, hares, and squirrels ;
and that there are others which only appear to do
so, as moles, crickets, beetles, crabs, mullets,
&c. The latter class, he observes, have their
stomachs composed of muscular fibres, by which
the food is ground up and down as in those
which really ruminate. Mr. Ray observes that
ruminants are all four-footed, hairy, and vivi-
parous ; some with hollow and perpetual horns,
others with deciduous ones.
RUM'MAGE, v. a. Fr. remuage ; Germ.
ranmen, to empty, — Skinner. To search ; plun-
der ; evacuate.
I have often rummaged for old books in Little-
Britain and Duck-lane. Swift.
RUM'MER, n. s. Sax. riumoji; Dan. and
Belg. roemer. A large glass ; a drinking cup.
RUMNEY. See ROMNEY.
RU'MOR, n. *. &,t;. a. > Fr. rumeur ; Lat.
RU'MORER. $ rumor. Flying or
popular report ; fame : to report or bruit abroad :
the noun substantive corresponding.
'Twas rumoured,
My father 'scaped from out the citadel. Dryden.
RUMP, n. g. Belg. romp ; Teut. rumpff.
The end of the back bone ; used of beasts, and
contemptuously of human bemgs.
He charged him first to bind,
Crowdero's hands on rump behind. Hudibras.
RUMPHIA, in botany, a genus of the mono-
gynia order, and triandria class of plants : CAL.
trifid ; the petals three ; the fruit a trilocular
plum. Soecies one only, a tree of the East
Indies.
RUM'PLE, v. a. & n. s. Sax. ppym|>elle ;
Belg. rompelen ; Teut. rumpsel. To crush or
contract into wrinkles : the wrinkle or fold
made.
RUMSEY. See ROMSEY.
RUN, v. n., v. a. & n. *.^\ Sax. ninnan ; Goth.
RUN'AGATE, n. *. (and Swed. rinna ;
RUJN'AWAY, 4 Teut. and Belg. ren-
. RUN'NER. J nen. To move swiftly,
or at a quick pace ; pass on the surface of
the ground; have course; rush; emit; flow;
stream; be liquid, fluid, or fusible; melt;
vanish : hence to pass in thought or word ; be
mentioned cursorily ; be known popularly ; go
on ; proceed ; tend ; go on violently or irregu-
larly ; taking after, away, away with, on, over,
and out before the object : as a verb active, to
drive ; force ; stab ; pierce ; trace ; melt ; pro-
secute ; venture ; venture against law ; taking
down before the object. This verb, as Johnson
says, may be observed always to retain much of
its primitive idea, and to imply progression, and,
for the most part, progressive violence ; a run is
a course of motion ; the act of running : flow ;
cadence; general reception ; modish clamor : 'at
the long run,' in fine, in the result : a runagate
and runaway alike signify a fugitive ; a rebel ;
apostate ; one who flies from danger : runner, a
racer or messenger; a shooting sprig; the mov-
ing stone of a mill.
Laban raw out unto the man unto the well.
Genesis xxiv. 29.
Joseph is a fruitful bough, whose branches run
over the wall. Id. xlix. 22.
The Lord sent thunder, and the fire rare along upon
the ground. Exodus ix. 25.
Whether his flesh run with his issue, or be stop-
ped, it is his uncleanness. Leviticus xiii. 3.
God bringeth the prisoners out of captivity; hut
letteth the runagates continue in scarceness.
Psalm Ixviii. 6.
Their feet rim to evil, and make haste to shed
blood. Proverbs.
Running under the island Clauda, we had much
work to come by the boat. Acts xxvii. 16.
They run the ship aground. Id. xxvii. 41.
Many have run out of their wits for women.
1 Esdras iv.
The wretch" compell'd, a runagate became,
And learned what ill a miser state doth breed.
Sidney.
If, through our too much security, the same should
run on, soon might we feel our estate brought to
those lamentable terms, whereof this hard and heavy
sentence was by one of the ancients uttered.
'Hooker.
This proud Turk offered scornfully to pass liy
without vailing, which the Venetian captains not
enduring, set upon him with such fury that the
Turks were enforced to run both their gallies on
shore. hnolles't Hitter y.
Neither was, he ignorant what report run of liim-
self, and how he had lost the hearts of his subjects.
h iwtle*.
My conscience will serve me to run from this Je»v,
my master. Shakspeare. Ulerchunt of Venice.
My statues,
Like a fountain, with a hundred spouts,
Did run pure blood. Id. Julius Caesar.
A hound runs counter, and yet draws dry food well.
Shakspeare.
If you suspend your indignation against my
brother, till you can derive from him better testi-
mony of his intent, you should run a certain course.
Id. Kuiy Lear.
If thou rememberest not the slightest folly
That ever love did make thee run into,
Thou hast not loved. Id. As You Like It.
Fore-spent with toil, as runners with a race,
I lay me down a little while to breathe. Shahtpeare
From growing riches with good cheer,
To running out by starving here. Id.
Poor Romeo is already dead, run through the ear
with a love song. Id. Itomeo and Juliet.
Thou runaway, thou coward, art thou fled ?
Speak in some bush ; where dost thou hide thy head 1
Shakipeare.
As Cain, after he had slain Abel, had no certain
abiding ; so the Jews, after they had crucified the
Son of God, became runagates. RiMyk.
The difference between the valour of the Irish
rebels and the Spaniards was, that the one nm innni
before they were charged, and the other straight
after. Eacim.
In some houses wainscots will sweat, so that they
will almost run with water. Id.
The owner hath incurred the forfeiture of eight
years' profits of his lands, before he cometh to tlie
knowledge of the process that runneth against him.
1<I.
A man's nature runs either to herbs or weeds ;
therefore let him seasonably water the one, and.
destroy the other. '<'•
Hunning on with vain prolixity. Drinjton.
RUN
The priest and people run about,
And at the ports all thronging out,
As if their safety were to quit
Their mother. Ben Jonson.
He hath run out himself, and led forth
His desperate party with him ; blown together
Aids of all kinds. Id. Catiline.
Discourses ran thus among the clearest observers :
it was said that the prince, without any imaginable
stain of his religion, had, by the sight of foreign
courts, much corroborated his judgment.
Wotton's Buckingham.
Thirst of fame makes them seek to climb to heaven ;
it makes them not fear to run down headlong to hell.
Bp. Hall.
The rest dispersed run, some disguised,
To unknown coasts : some to the shores to fly.
Daniel.
Insectile animals, for want of blood, run all out
into legs. Hammond.
The king's ordinary style runneth, our sovereign
lord the king. Saunderson.
We have many evils to prevent, and much danger
to run through. Taylor.
The zeal of love runs out into suckers, like a fruit-
ful tree. Id. Rule of Holy Living.
Take here her reliques and her gods, to run
With them thy fate, with them new walls expect.
Denham.
He would himself be in the Highlands to receive
them, and run his fortune with them. Clarendon.
Rivers run potable gold. Milton.
Day yet wants much of his race to run. Id.
Hath publick faith, like a young heir,
For this taken up all sorts of ware,
And run into every tradesman's book,
Till both turned bankrupts ? Hudibras.
They, when they're out of hopes of flying,
Will run away from death by dying. Id.
Customs run only upon our goods imported or ex-
ported, and that but once for all ; whereas interest
runs as well upon our ships as goods, and must be
yearly paid. Child.
Hath falsehood proved at the long run more for
the advancement of his estate than truth 1 Tillotson.
The greatest vessel, when full, if you pour in
still, it must run out some way, and the more it
runs out at one side, the less it runs out at the other.
Temple.
Since death's near, and runs with so much force,
We must meet first, and intercept his course.
Dry den.
He ran up the ridges of the rocks amain. Id.
Her form glides through me, and my heart gives
way;
This iron heart, which no impression took
From wars, melts down, and runs, if she but look.
Id.
Could you hear the annals of our fate ;
Through such a train of woes if I should run,
The day would sooner than the tale be done Id.
His grisly beard his pensive bosom sought,
And all on Lausus ran his restless thought. Id.
The estate run* out, and mortgages are made,
Their fortune rui-ned, and their fame betrayed. Id.
The common cry
Then ran you down for your rank loyalty. Id.
Here those that in the rapid course delight,
The rival runners without order stand. Id.
They ran down a stag, and the ass divided the prey
very honestly. L'Estrange.
Wickedness may prosper for a while, but, at the
long run, he that sets all knaves at work, will pay
them. Id.
79
RUN
The ass sets up a hideous bray, and fetches a rttn
at them open mouth. Id.
If there remains an eternity to us, after the short
revolution of time we so swiftly run over here, 'tis
clear that all the happiness that can be imagined,
in this fleeting state, is not valuable in respect of the
future. Locke.
That punishment follows not in this life the breach
of this rule, and consequently has not the force of a
law, in countries where the generally allowed prac-
tice runs counter to it, is evident. Id.
Thoughts will not be directed what objects to pur-
sue, but run away with a man in pursuit of those
ideas they have in view. Id.
Though putting the mind unprepared upon an un-
usual stress may discourage it, yet this must not run
it, by an overgreat shyness of difficulties, into a lazy
sauntering about ordinary things. Id.
I shall run the danger of being suspected to have
forgot what I am about. Id.
A talkative person runs himself upon great incon-
veniences, by blabbing out his own or others' secrets.
Bay.
If the richness of the ground cause turnips to run
to leaves, treading down the leaves will help their
rooting. Mortimer.
In every root there will be one runner, which hath
little buds on it, which may be cut into. Id.
The mill goes much heavier, by the stone they call
the runner being so large. Id.
Your iron must not burn in the fire ; that is, run
or melt ; for then it will be brittle. Moxon.
Study your race, or the soil of your family will
dwindle into cits, or run into wits. Tatler.
The world had not stood so long, but we can still
run it up to artless ages when mortals lived by plain
nature. Burnet.
It is no such hard matter to convince or r?.m down
a drunkard, and to answer any pretences he can allege
for his sin. South.
See daisies open, rivers run. Parnel.
Some papers are written with regularity ; others
run out into the wildness of essays. Spectator.
Hipparchus, going to marry, consulted Philander
upon the occasion ; Philander represented his mis-
tress in such strong colours, that the next morning
he received a challenge, and before twelve he was run
through the body. Id.
The dire example ran through all the field,
Till heaps of brothers were by brothers killed.
Addison.
As wax dissolves, as ice begins to run,
And trickle into drops before the sun,
So melts the youth. Id. Ovid.
As fast as our time rum, we should be very glad
in most parts of our lives that it ran much faster.
Addison.
Virgil, in his first Georgick, has run into a set of
precepts foreign to his subject. Id.
This church is very rich in relicks, which run up
as high as Daniel and Abraham. Id.
If we run over the other nations of Europe, we
shall only pass through so many different scenes of
poverty. Id.
Some English speakers run their hands into their
pockets, others look with great^attention on a piece of
blank paper. Id.
It is impossible for detached papers to have a ge-
neral run of long continuance, if not diversified with
humour. Id.
The time of instance shall not commence or run
till after contestation of suit. Ayliffe's Parergon.
I would gladly understand .the formation of a soul,
and run it up to its punctum saliens. Collier.
This run in the head, of a late writer of natural
RUN 80
history, who is not wont to have the most .ucky hits
in the conduct of his thoughts. Woodward.
I have known several instances, where the lungs
run through with a sword have been consolidated and
healed. Blackmore.
It is a confederating with him, to whom the sacri-
fice is offered ; for upon that the apostle's argument
-uns. Atterburii.
O that I could now prevail with any one to count
up what he hath got by his most beloved sins, what
a dreadful danger he runs. Colamy.
On all occasions, she run out extravagantly in
praise of Hocus. Arbuthnot.
The whole runs on short, like articles |in an ac-
count, whereas, if the subject were fully explained,
each of them might take up half a page.
Id. on Coins.
Searching the ulcer with my probe, the sinus run
np above the orifice. Wiseman > Surgery.
Our king returned,
The muse ran mad to see her exil'd lord ;
On the cracked stage the bedlam heroes roared.
Granville.
Raw and injudicious writers propose one thing for
their subject, and run off to another. Felton.
The purest gold must be run and washed. Id.
What is raised in the day, settles in the night, and
"ts cold runs the thin juices into thick sizy substances.
Cheyne.
She saw with joy the line immortal run,
Each sire imprest, and glaring in his son. Pope.
Magnanimity may run up to profusion or extrava-
gance. Id.
Run in trust, and pay for it out of your wages.
Swift.
A horse-boy, being lighter than you, may be
trusted to run races with less damage to the horses.
Id.
When we desire any thing, our minds run wholly
on the good circumstances of it ; when 'tis obtained,
our minds run wholly on the bad ones. Id.
To Tonson or Lintot his lodgings are better
known than to the runners of the post-office.
Id. to Pope.
Heavy impositions lessen the import, and are a
strong temptation of running goods. Swift.
You cannot but have observed what a violent run
there is among too many weak people against uni-
versity education. Id.
He shows his judgment, in not letting his fancy
run out into long descriptions. Broome on Odystey.
He no where uses any softness, or any run of verses
to please the ear. Id.
In the middle of a rainbow the colors are suffi-
ciently distinguished ; but near the borders they run
into one another, so that you hardly know how to
limit the colors. Watts.
Religion is run down by the licence of these times.
Berkeley.
He will no more complain of the frowns of the
world, or a small cure, or the want of a patron, than
he will complain of the want of a laced coat, or a
running-horse. Law.
Though Ramus run in with the first reformers of
learning in his opposition to Aristotle ; yet he has
given us a plausible system. Baker.
RON, an extensive salt morass of Hindostan,
which bounds the western frontier of Gujerat,
and communicates with the gulf of Cutch, seve-
ral hundred miles in length. It is supposed to
have been formerly covered by the sea, but af-
fords excellent pasture, and some fine horses. It
belongs to several petty chiefs.
RU.N
RUND'LET, n. s. Perhaps runlet or round-
let. A small barrel.
Set a rundlft of verjuice over against the sun in
summer, to see whether it will sweeten. Bacon
The angels did not fly, but mounted the ladder by
degrees ; we are to consider the several steps and
rundles we are to ascend by. Duppa.
The third mechanical faculty, styled, axis in peri-
trochio, consists of an axis or cylinder, having a run-
die about it, wherein are fastened divers spokes, by
which the whole may be turned round.
Wilkins't Mathematical Afagick.
RUNGS, in a ship, the same with the ground
timbers ; being the timbers which constitute her
floor ; and are bolted to the keel, whose ends are
rung-heads.
RUNGPOOR, or Takhut Koondy, is an
extensive district of Bengal, situated about
26° N. lat., bounded on the north by the
Bootan mountains, and on the east by the
Brahmapootra. It produces rice, sugar, silk,
indigo, hemp, and tobacco. The glandular
swellings of the throat are very prevalent here.
Besides the Brahmapootra, it is watered by the
Teestah and Durlah. Its chief towns are Rung-
pore, Guzgotta, and Mungulhaut. This district
was taken possession of, and colonised by the
Mahometans in the thirteenth century, and was
always governed by a foujedar or military col-
lector. Between 1730aud 1740 it was ruled by
Sayed Ahmed, nephew of Aly Verdy Khan, who
is accused of having been very oppressive, and
compelling the rajahs of Dinagepore and Couch
Behar to pay him tribute. It is now governed
by a civil establishment of judge, collector, &c.,
and is subservient to the court of circuit and
appeal of Dacca. Couch Behar is included in
this collectorship.
RUNGPORE, the capital of the above dis-
trict, is situated on the eastern bank of the Gog-
got, is a very regular built town, and carries on
a considerable trade with Bootan, Assam, and
Calcutta. The judge and collector reside at
Nuwalgunge, about a mile from the town. Long.
89° 5' E., lat. 25° 47' N.
RUKGPORE, an extensive fortress of Gergong,
the ancient capital of Assam. It is situated on
an island, and can only be approached by a
bridge, which was built some centuries ago.
RUN'NEL, n. s. From run. A rivulet ; a
small brook.
With murmur loud, down from the mountain's
side,
A little runnel tumbled neere the place. Fairfax.
RUNNER, in the sea language, a rope belong-
ing to the garnet and the two bolt tackles. It
is reeved in a single block joined to the end of a
pendant : it has at one end a hook to hit'h into
any thing ; and at the other a double block, into
which is reeved the fall of the tackle, or the gar--
net, by which means it purchases more than the
tackle would without it.
RUN'NET, n. s. Sax. jenunnen, coagulated.
A liquor made by steeping the stomach of a calf
in hot water, and used to coagulate milk tor
curds and cheese. It is also written llENM.r,
which see.
The milk of the fig hath the quality of a runner to
gather cheese. Baan\': Natural History.
HUP
It coagulates the blood, as ruitnet turns milk.
. Tlie milk in the stomach of calves, coagulated by
the runnet, is rendered fluid by the gall in the duo-
denum. Arbtithnot.
RUNNET, or RENNET. See RENNET.
RUNNINGTON (Charles), serjeant-at-law,
Itorn in Hertfordshire in 1751. He was in 1768
placed with a special pleader, who employed
him in a digest of the law of England. He was
called to the bar in 1778, and in 1787 to the degree
of Serjeant In 1815 he was appointed commis-
sioner for the relief of insolvent debtors, which
office he resigned in 1819, and died at Brighton,
January 18, 1821. Mr. Runnington published
Hale's History of the Common Law, 2 vols. ;
Gilbert's Law of Ejectments, 8vo. ; Ruffhead's
Statutes at Large, 4 vols. 4to.; History of the
Legal Remedy by Ejectment, and the Resulting
Action or Mesne Process, 8vo.
RUNMON,n. *. Fr. rognant, scrubbing. A
paltry wretch.
You witch ! you polecat ! you nmnion '.
Shukspeare.
RUNNYMEAD,a celebrated mead, near Eg-
ham, in Surrey, where king John was compelled
to sign Magna Charta, the great charter of Eng-
lish liberty, and the Charta de Foresta. See
ENGLAND.
RUNT, n. s. Runte, in the Teutonic dia-
lects, signifies a bull or cow, and is used in con-
tempt by us for small cattle ; as the Welsh term
kefyl, a horse, is used for a worthless horse.
Johnson. — Goth, rian, rant, Thomson. Any
small animal ; below the natural growth of the
kind.
Reforming Tweed
Hath sent us runts even of her churches breed.
Cleaveland.
Of tame pigeons, are croppers, carriers, and runts.
Walton.
This overgrown runt has struck off his heels,
lowered his foretop, and contracted his figure.
Adduon.
RUPEE, a silver coin current in the East In-
dies, worth about 2s. fid. See COINS.
RUPERT, prince palatine of the Rhine, and
grandson of king James I. of England, was born
in 1619. In 1642 he came over into England,
and offered his services to king Charles I., his
uncle, who gave him a command in his army.
At Edgehill he charged with incredible bravery,
and made a great slaughter of the parliamen-
tarians. In 1643 he seized the town of Ciren-
cester ; obliged the governor of Litchfield to sur-
render; and, having joined his brother prince
Maurice, reduced Bristol in three days, and
passed to the relief of Newark. In 1644 he
marched to relieve York, where he gave the par-
liamentarians battle, and entirely defeated their
right wing; but Cromwell charged the marquis
of Newcastle with such an irresistible force that
the royalists were at length entirely defeated.
After this the prince retired to Bristol, which
surrendered to Fairfax after a gallant resistance.
The king was so enraged at the loss of this city,
so contrary to his expectation, that he recalled
all prince Rupert's commissions, and sent him u
pass to go out of the kingdom. In 1648 he
VOL. XIX.
81 RUP
went to France, was highly complimented by
that court, and kindly received by king Charles
II., who was there at the time. Afterward he
was constituted admiral of the king's navy : in-
fested the Dutch ships, many of which he took;
and, having engaged with De Ruyter, obliged
him to fly. He died in 1682, and was interred
in king Henry VII.'s chapel, Westminster, witli
great magnificence. He seldom engaged but he
gained the advantage, which he generally lost by
pursuing it too far. He was better qualified to
storm a citadel, or even to mount a breach, than
patiently to sustain a siege. He took the hint of
his discovery of mezzotinto, it is said, from a sol-
dier scraping his rusty fusil. The first mezzo-
tinto print ever published was the work of his
hands, and may be seen in the first edition of
Evelyn's Sculptra. The secret is said to have been
soon after discovered by Sherwin, an engraver,
who made use of a loaded file for laying the
ground. The prince, upon seeing one of his
prints, suspected that his servant had lent him
his tool, which was a channeled roller ; but, upon
receiving full satisfaction to the contrary, he
made him a present of it. The roller was after-
wards laid aside ; and an instrument with a cre-
nelled edge, shaped like a shoemaker's cutting
knife, was used instead of it. He also invented
a metal called by his name, of which guns were
cast.
RUPERT'S DROPS, a sort of glass drops with
long and slender tails, which burst to pieces on
the breaking off those tails in any part ; invented
by prince Rupert. Their explosion is attended
in the dark with a flash of light ; and, by being
boiled in oil, the drops are deprived of their ex-
plosive quality.
RUPPIN, NEW, a town of Brandenburg,
Prussia, in the government of Potsdam, on a
lake of the same name. It is regularly built, the
streets intersecting each other at right angles, and
has a high church, high school, council-house,
barracks, hospital, a workhouse, and a very large
building for exercising the troops. It contains
4600 inhabitants, besides a garrison. The prin-
cipal employments, are weaving woollen, tan-
ning, and making gloves. Old Ruppin is a
small town a little farther to the north, with
1000 inhabitants. Thirty-five miles N. N. W. of
Berlin.
RUP'TION, 7i. s. } Latruptus.
RUP'TURE, n. s., v. a., 8c v. n. j Breach; so-
lution of continuity : the act of breaking; hernia :
to break ; suffer disruption.
The egg,
Bursting with kindly rupture, forth disclosed
Their callow young. Hilton.
A lute string will bear a hundred weight without
rupture, but at the same time cannot exert its elasti-
city. Arbuthnot.
'I he plenitude of vessels or plethora causes an
extravasation of blood by ruption or apertion.
Wiseman.
The rupture of the groin or scrotum is the most
common species of hernia. Sharp's Surgery.
The vessels of the brain and membranes, if rup-
tured, absorb the extravasated blood. Sharp.
When the parties, that divide the commonwealth,
come to & rupture, it seems every man's duty to chuse
a side. Swift.
G
RURAL ARCHITECTURE.
RU RAL, adj. Yr. rural; Lat. rwra, ruralis.
Country ; existing in the country, not in cities ;
suiting or resembling the country.
Lady, reserved to do pastor company honour,
Joining your sweet voice to the rural uiusick of desert.
Sidney.
Here is a rural fellow,
That will not be denied your highness' presence;
He brings you figs. Shaktpeare. Cymbetine.
We turn
To where the silver Thames first rural grows.
Thomson.
The summit gained behold the proud alcove
That crowns it ! yet not all its pride secures
The grand retreat from injuries impressed
By rural carvers, who with knives deface
The pannels, leaving an obscure rude name,
In characters uncouth, and spelled amiss. Cowper,
RURAL ARCHITECTURE. The application of
such architectural science as was then in prac-
tice, to the accommodation of the agriculturist,
must have taken place at a very early period of
human history. We have already (see the ar-
ticle AGRICULTURE) endeavoured to trace the his-
tory of agricultural improvements generally —
our business in this and the succeeding article
is strictly practical ; and will relate to the most
expedient methods which have been suggested
•n modern times for farm buildings, and the ge-
neral economy of a farm.
On the first of these subjects the reader may
further consult the article FARM, where the laying
out of farm lands, and the construction of the
principal farm erections, are dwelt upon. In the
present article, the smallest farm-house and
farm-cottages will engage our attention ; farm-
stables, buildings for the accommodation of
stock, poultry-houses, barns, straw-houses, cart-
sheds, &c.
1. Of the smaller farm-house and farm-cot-
tages.— The smallest farm-house will be that in
•which the farmer keeps no servant, and culti-
vates a few acres. Such a house should consist
of an entry or porch at the end, and ranging by
the side of a dairy and pantry ; a kitchen of
good size, say twelve to fifteen feet square ; a
parlour of equal size ; a light closet off the parlour
and at the opposite end of the house to the
dairy ; tool-house adjoining it ; staircase and
cellar under; poultry-house, and three bed-rooms
up stairs. The ground plan of such a house is
given in Plate RURAL ARCHITECTURE, fig. 1.
A farm-house forming a medium between this
and that of what may be called a professional
farmer is given in figs. 2 and 3. Here the
farmer is supposed to keep a servant, who is
domesticated with him, and the poultry and
tool-house are in the yard. It contains an en-
trance and stair (a) ; kitchen, closet, and oven
(6) ; back kitchen (c) ; dairy (rf) ; parlour (r) ;
bedroom (/); with three bedrooms and a garret
up stairs, and a cellar under.
In larger farm-houses the servants' rooms
have been recommended to be quite distinct
from the house. Where farms are large, and
consequently a great number of servants wanted,
particularly where they are unmarried, suitable
and convenient rooms for sleeping in, and,
where they find their own provisions, for pre-
paring and dressing them in, are not merely
requisite, but of considerable advantage to t!>e
farmer, as well as the men, as they save mucK
time, which would otherwise be lost, in going
to their meals ; besides keeping them together
in a sober, steady state, ready for their different
employments. In this way, too, the servants
are a great deal more comfortable, and live far
more cheaply than when they go to the public-
houses to eat their meals, as is much the case in
the southern parts of the kingdom. But incon-
veniences of this kind are probably the best
guarded against by having such servants, when
it can be done, in the houses of the farmers, in
which cases the eating-rooms for them should
be so placed as that a facility may be given ot
overlooking them. But the rooms for lodging
in should, at the same time, be quite detached
and distinct, such persons being frequently care-
less and negligent of their candles and fires, be-
sides being irregular in other parts of their con-
duct. In whatever situations such rooms may
be erected, the ground-floors should be formed
of stone, brick, or some other incombustible
material, while the upper ones are laid with
plaster, as in some of the' midland districts.
Mr. J. Wood, of Bath, has suggested cottages
of four classes, for laborers, having from one to
four rooms each. . See his Series of Plans for
Cottages. They chould be constructed, he says,
on the following principles :
' The cottage should be dry and healthy ;
this is effected by keeping the floor sixteen or
eighteen inches above the natural ground ; by
building it clear of banks, on an open spot of
ground, that has a declivity or fail from the
building ; by having the rooms not less than eight
feet high — a height that will keep them airy and
healthy ; and by avoiding having chambers in
the roof.
* They should be warm, cheerful, and com-
fortable. In order to attain these points, the
walls should be of a sufficient thickness (if of
stone, not less than sixteen inches ; if of brick,
at least a brick and a half) to keep out the col J
of the winter, or the excessive heat of the sum-
mer. The entrance should be screened, that
the room, on opening the door, may not be ex-
posed to the open air; the rooms should receive
their light from the east or the south, or from any
point betwixt the east and the south ; for, if they
receive their light from the north, they will be
cold and cheerless; if from the west, they will
be so heated by the summer's afternoon sun, as
to become comfortless to the poor laborer, after
a hard day's w ork ; whereas, on the contrary
receiving the light from the east or the south,
they will be always warm and cheerful. So like
the feelings of men in a higher sphere are those
of the poor cottager, that if his habitation be
warm, cheerful, and comfortable, he will return
to it with gladness, and abide m it with pleasure
' They should be rendered convenient, by
having a porch or shed to screen the entrance,
and to hold the laborer's tools ; by having a shed
to serve as a pantry, and store-place for fuel;
by having a privy for cleanliness and decency's
sake ; by a proper disposition of the windows,
doors, and chimneys ; by having the stairs,
where there is an upper floor, not less than three
I-U' UA L AKCM LIT ECTU WE,
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M HI
' ' ' i i j i
r • • B a a • ••••••••••
\- 71>»nia.f7f</,/. 7.'i.i'/
RURAL ARCHITECTURE.
feet wide, the rise or height not more than eight
.tiches, and the tread or breadth not less than
nine inches ; and, lastly, by proportioning the
size of the cottage to the family that is to inhabit
it; there should be one lodging-room for the
parents, another for the female, and a third for
the male children ; it is melancholy, he says, to
see a man and his wife, and sometimes half a
dozen children, crowded together in the same
room ; nay, often in the same bed ; the horror
is still heightened, and the inconveniency in-
creased, at the time the woman is in child-bed,
•or in case of illness, or of death ; indeed, whilst
the children are young, under nine years of age,
there is not that offence to decency, if they sleep
in the same room with their parents, or if the
boys and girls sleep together, but after that age
they should be kept apart.
' Cottages should not be more than twelve
feet wide in the clear, that being the greatest
width that it would be prudent to venture the
rafters of the roof, with the collar-pieces only,
without danger of spreading the walls ; and, by
using collar-pieces, there can be fifteen inches
in height of the roof thrown into the upper
chambers, which will render dormer-windows
useless.
Cottages should be always built in pairs,
either at a little distance from one another, or
close adjoining, so as to appear one building,
that the inhabitants may be of assistance to each
other, in case of sickness or any other accident.
' For economy, cottages should be built strong,
and with the best of materials, and these mate-
rials well put together ; the mortar must be well
tempered and mixed, and lime not spared : hol-
low walls bring on decay, and harbour vermin ;
and bad sappy timber soon reduces the cottage
to a ruinous state. Although cottages need not
be fine, yet they should be regular ; regularity
will render them ornaments to the country, in-
stead of their being, as at present, disagreeable
objects.
' A piece of ground should be allotted to every
cottage, proportionable to its size ; the cottage
should be built in the vicinity of a spring of
water — a circumstance to be attended to ; and,
if there be no spring, let there be a well.'
' Humanity,' Beatson well observes, 'shudders
at the idea of an industrious laborer, with a wife,
and perhaps five or six children, being obliged
to live, or rather exist, in a wretched, damp,
gloomy room, of ten or twelve feet square, and
that room without a floor ; but common decency
must revolt at considering that over this wretched
apartment there is only one chamber, to hold
all the miserable beds of this miserable family.
And yet instances of this kind, to our shame be
it spoken, occur in every country village. How
can we expect our laborers or their families to
be healthy, or that their daughters, from whom
%ve are to take our future female domestics,
should be cleanly, modest, or even decent, in
such wretched habitations ?'
The last writer describes an economical stair-
case for cottages, in which every step is divided
into two parts, half of it being just double the
height of the other half. In ascending his stair
tht left foot is set on the left step, and the right
foot on the right, alternately to the top of the
stair. It is clear, therefore, that as the steps for
the right and for the left foot are in the same
line, and although neither foot rises each time
higher than seven inches and a half above the
other, yet every time that one foot is moved, it
rises fifteen inches higher than it was before. In
a stair of this kind, if each tread or breadth for
the foot be nine inches, and each rise of the one
foot above the other seven inches and a half, as-
each foot rises the height of two steps, or fifteen
inches, every time it is moved, it is plain that
six steps of this kind will rise as high as twelve
in the common way, and will require only one
half the size of a hatch or opening in the floor
above, that would be required for those twelve
steps as usually constructed. This will be of
advantage, where much is required to be made
of little room, and will of course give more
space to the chambers above.
In addition to our better farm-houses, given
under the article FARM, we may here subjoin the
elegant design of a very commodious and ample
farmery given in the General Report of the
Agricultural State of Scotland : — The dwelling-
house contains two parlours, fig. 4 (a, 6); kitchen
(c); dairy (d); pantry (c); dining parlour (/);
bed-rooms (g, A); cellars (i). The farmery con-
sists of cart-sheds and granary over (a); riding
horse stable (6) ; common stable (c ) ; stalled cat-
tle (d) ; places for tools and other articles of the
cattle attendant (e) ; entrance from the spacious
root or turnip shed (/); straw (g); threshing-
machine and water-wheel (A); granaries and
straw-lofts over (g, /, ni) ; tools and sundries (i) ;
smith's shop (f), and carpenter (&).
2. Of farm stables. — Stables of all kinds should
be situated on dry hard ground ; and, if possible,
on an ascent, for the sake of drainage : the win-
dows or some openings should be made to the
north or east, that the north winds may be let in
in the summer to cool them, and the rising sun
all the year round. Close window-shutters are
always a valuable addition.
Farm stables should of course be contiguous
to those other offices with which they are natu-
rally connected. Beatson objects to the mode of
making the racks and mangers of a farm stable
run quite' across the upper end of the stall. Ser-
vants, he observes, in order to save trouble, are
very apt to stuff the racks full of hay, however
large they may be, from which many bad conse-
quences arise, and much hay is lost or destroyed
by being pulled down and mixed with the litter.
Besides, various bad effects result from the prac-
tice of suffering horses to be continually stuffing
themselves with hay, as is well known to those
who are accustomed to the proper management
of such animals ; as under their directions they
are never permitted to have much hay in their
racks at a time. Another disadvantage also at-
tends this mode of fitting up stalls, especially
for farm-houses, as it ought to be the object to
preserve, every thing ; the hay-seeds are totally
lost. And, by the practice of placing the racks
with so much inclination outwards, the seeds are
also very apt to fall into the horse's ears and
eyes, which often cause disagreeable effects.
For these reasons it is said that racks should
G2
84
RURAL ARCHITECTURE.
have a perpendicular direction, not having a
space of more than fourteen or sixteen inches
from the wall ; the bottom being sparred, in
order to let the seeds fall down through below,
whence they may be removed by a sort of sliding
shutter. These advantages may also be neatly
and conveniently obtained by leaving niches in
the walls for the racks, on which plan the spars
will be equal with the insides of the walls.
Where the niches and racks are made in the
middle of the stalls, two feet, or two feet and a
half wide, will in most cases be sufficient ; they
should, however, be carried down low enough
to admit of a small box or drawer being placed
under them, for the reception of the hay-seeds.
Racks of this sort may likewise be placed in the
corners of the stalls, and be made in such a way
as that one niche may serve two stalls. And
they may be placed in the angles of the stalls
without having any niche, and may be made of
a semicircular form. But, in whatever way they
are formed, there should constantly be a division
betwixt them, which is probably best made of
deal. Where the racks are put in the corners of
the stalls, it may perhaps be more advantageous
to have them straight than circular ; but, in which-
ever way they are formed, the farmer should
always have a hatch fixed for each stall, as by
that means a great deal of time may be saved in
feeding his horses. If the above methods be
adopted, it must be unnecessary to make a
manger of the same width with the stall ; as a
box or drawer, sixteen or eighteen inches long,
and twelve or fourteen inches wide, will answer
every intention perfectly well. But it should be
so contrived that it may be readily taken out
and cleaned whenever it is fouled, or becomes
furred with dirt. With the fixed mangers this
can never be done.
There is another method of making stalls,
which, as being cheaper and more economical,
deserves to be regarded by the farmer : on this
plan the stable has neither racks nor mangers;
the head of the stall is boarded about three feet
from the ground, having a space of about two
feet from the wall, in which the hay is to be de-
posited, the horse pulling his hay from below,
instead of drawing it from above ; which is not
only more natural, but prevents the waste of hay,
much of which drops down and is lost when the
horse eats from a rack. But even in this con-
struction it will be necessary to have the bottom
sparred within eight or ten inches of the ground,
and a box, hopper, or hay-manger and drawer,
so contrived as to receive the seeds of the hay :
where there are double stalls, the boxes may be
divided in the middle. Single stalls, where they
can be conveniently made, should however al-
ways he preferred, as being much more safe and
convenient in different points of view, both for
the horses and persons employed about them.
The paving of stables is a matter of great im-
portance, though it ha? been hitherto but little
attended to : and whether the stall should have
a slight declivity, or be perfectly level, has not
rerliaps yet been so fully considered as it ought,
t would appear to be more natural and easy for
these animals to stand and rest themselves on a
level surface, than on one that is sloping, as it is
evident that the tendons or sinews of the pastern
joints must be kept more upon the stretch in the
latter than in the former case. The main diffi-
culty in regard to a level stall has been the con-
veying away of the moisture; but this may be
effected by paving the stall perfectly level, and
leaving a small drain in the middle, extending
within two or three feet of the upper end ; but
which should not be more than seven or eight
inches wide at top, forming an angle at the bot-
tom. The depth at the end nearest the head of
the stall need not be more thaji three or four
inches, having as much slope as can be con-
veniently given it backwards, in order that it
may carry the moisture off quickly to the main
drain, into which all the stall-drains should have
a fall, and the moisture be discharged. And the
small stall-drains must also be covered with a
piece of good strong oak-plank, in which a great
number of holes are bored, and which must be
so fastened as to admit of its being readily raised
up and let down; as by this means the drains
may be washed, and kept clean and sweet, as
often as they are found to be furred up and ob-
structed. Besides these, main drains must be
made at the end of the stalls, or in some other
convenient situation, for carrying off the moisture
into the general receptacle. Where they are
placed at the bottoms of the stalls, th*ey should
not be closer to the stalls than two feet, in order
that the stale of mares may get readily into them,
which would not be the case if they were nearer,
unless the pavement behind the stalls was made
to decline a little towards them. These main
drains need not be more than seven or eight
inches wide at the top ; but they should be
covered with plank, in which holes are perfo-
rated for conveying away the moisture and wet-
ness. But, with the view of saving the expense
of making main drains within the stable, a shal-
low open drain may be made in the common
way, with which the stall drains may communi-
cate by means of very small grates at the ends.
And it should be observed that the pavements
or floors of the stalls should have a very slight
declination from their sides towards the drains,
to prevent moisture standing on them ; an inch,
or an inch and a half in the whole, will however
be quite sufficient for these purposes.
In regard to the sizes of stalls, it may be
noticed that they differ much according to cir-
cumstances ; but four feet and a half in width
are the least they should ever be made, and five
feet are much better. The divisions between
them should be high, so that strange horses may
not see each other. But where stallions are kept,
or young horses required to be left loose in a
stall, they should be so enclosed as to be incapa-
ble of doing mischief. And, for these purposes,
one or more stalls may be sparred to the top,
or doors provided, which may be hung to the
back posts of the stable. Where this last method
is followed, the stalls serve extremely well for
keeping different mares and their foals separate
from others, as well as many other useful pur-
poses in the business of horse-management with
the farmer.
The writer of the East Ix>thian Agricultural
Survey has remarked that sometimes stalls are
RURAL ARCHITECTURE.
85
made double ; and, as farm-horses generally work
in pairs, each pair that work together have one
of these double stalls ; for horses are social ani-
mals, and it is said they feed better, and are more
cheerful, when they live in society. But even in
this case it is proper they should be fastened to
the opposite sides of the stall, and that each
horse should have his own rack and his own
manger ; for, although they may seem to have a
very great attachment to each other, yet, if the
dividing of their food is left to themselves, it is
more than probable they will quarrel about it,
and that the strongest horse will have the best
share. But such farm-stables as contain only one
row of stalls, with one horse in each stall, are,
on the whole, the most useful and convenient ;
and if the stalls are sufficiently large, and the
divisions between them raised sufficiently high,
not wilh spars, as often is the case, but with
boards closely joined, each horse will be allowed
to eat his proportion of corn and hay equally,
and allowed to take the necessary rest, without
danger of being disturbed by a troublesome
neighbour. The stable ought to be well paved,
and of a sufficient breadth to leave a space of at
least six or seven feet behind each horse, for a
safe passage to the servants in hanging the harness
upon the wall, &c. The pavement should de-
cline very gradually from the horse's head back-
wards, towards the channel at his heels, which
should also decline, in the same gradual manner,
towards one end of the stable, where the urine
may be received into a reservoir. Proper open-
ings should also be left in the walls, for the pur-
pose of ventilation ; these should be fitted with
sliding or flap-boards, opened in the morning,
when the horses go out to work, and shut in the
evening : in this way the stables will be properly
ventilated ; and every risk of cold, from having
these openings uncovered during the night, be
avoided.
In some cases the racks are fixed about four-
teen inches from the walls, with but very little,
if any, slant ; having their bottom parts laid with
small spars, or thin narrow pieces of wood, in an
open manner, so that the hay seeds can fall down
through between them, and be received in a
drawer or box, made for the purpose below,
where they are capable of being drawn or taken
out at pleasure. A small box, or trough, is
placed in some convenient part, answering the
purpose of a manger, and which is sometimes
made as a drawer, to put in and draw out as
there may be occasion. The divisions of the
stalls sometimes rise pretty high at the head
parts in the ordinary way ; and, at other times,
in a curving manner at the upper ends, from the
tail-posts to nearly the ceilings of the stables ;
and flap-doors, the height of the lower parts of
the divisions, are sometimes fastened with hinges
to posts, or the walls behind the horses. In
other instances, the racks are placed in half-cir-
cular niches or recesses in the walls of the
stables, opposite the divisions of the stalls ; each
niche being made to serve two stalls, by having
a division in the middle betwixt them ; and the
racks themselves are sometimes made in half-
circular forms. The same kind of half-circular
racks are occasionally also put in the angles or
corners of the stalls, without any niches; there
being divisions between them, so as that they
may serve two stalls : but the racks, in these
cases, have not always the half-circular form, but
are made and fixed up in a straight manner. In
all these cases, small drawers or boxes serve as
mangers, for the horses to eat their provender
out of, as may be necessary.
There is sometimes a hopper sort of contriv-
ance in stables, where neither racks nor mangers
are employed, which is broad at the top, and has
about fourteen inches width in the bottom part ;
being sparred, in order that the seeds may drop
through into a drawer made for the purpose be-
low. In each corner there is a small box for
corn, which serves as a manger ; the hopper
part being divided in the middle, so as to serve
two stalls as hay-mangers. This is a neat and
convenient mode in some cases, though rather
expensive in making and putting up. There are
still other contrivances in fitting up racks and
stalls for preventing the unnecessary waste of
labor and food, as well as to guard against the
inconvenience of hay seeds falling into the eyes
and ears of horses, which have been suggested
by experienced farmers in other countries. In
one set of contrivances, in this intention, the
racks are placed in an upright manner, and the
perpendiculars of them are made to fall on the
inner edges of the troughs below, which have
shelving leaves. In these cases, when the ani-
mals pull out the hay from the racks, the waste
parts fall on the leaves, and thus slide down into
the troughs, where they are secured from bdng
spoiled by the breath of the horses ; while the
distance between the bottoms of the racks and
the troughs is quite sufficient for the admission
of the heads of the horses, so as that they may
get at the hay which is dropped. The racks, in
these cases, are two feet four inches in depth,
and two feet at top from the edge parts of them ;
being planed within, in order that the hay may
fall to the bottoms of the racks gradually, in
proportion as it diminishes in quantity, and the
animals he saved the trouble of a long reach,
which they are often obliged to make in the
stables which are fitted up in the old usual man-
ner. The animals are fed and supplied with
the fodder from the entry, which is six feet in
width ; the hay being dropped through a trap-
door from the store-room above the stable. This
plan is the suggestion of Mr. West, an intelli-
gent North American farmer. Another plan of
this kind has been proposed by Mr. Cooper of
the United States, in which the racks of the stalls
of the stables have a somewhat different construc-
tion and position, being formed with what are
called flats, or thin strips or pieces of wood. In
these the advantages are supposed to be very
great, as the upright flats prevent the horses from
wasting the hay, as well as from blowing upon
it ; and, besides, the animals are prevented from
looking round, a habit to which horses are much
accustomed when any person enters the stable ;
neither can they thrust their heads over the
troughs, as the flats compel them to feed directly
over them, without turning to either side. This
mode of fitting up the stalls of stables may be
found of much utility, in different situations and
circumstances, in the management of both sad-
dle, farm, and team-horses. At Holkham Mr
86
RURAL ARCHITECTURE.
Coke has his mangers themselves, it is said by
the writer of the corrected agricultural account
of that district, plated with sheet-iron ; and the
front edges, which are rollers, covered with tin-
plates. The bottoms of the stall divisions are
made of slate. It has also been found that for
stables, as well as all other offices, those locks
which have copper wards are the best, as -being
much more durable than any other kinds.
Stable lofts for saddle as well as for farm,
team, and carriage-horses, are also fitted up with
different sorts of machinery and contrivances for
preparing and reducing the different articles of
food, which such horses arc to have, into the
most proper, and economical forms. These are,
for the most part, straw or chaff-cutters, bean,
barley, or malt-crackers, and oat-crushing and
bruising machines. Such contrivances are often
of very great utility and convenience, when pro-
perly managed, and put up in such stable build-
ings, or the rooms connected with them ; and
particularly where other more valuable uses are
to be made of straw, pea and bean-haum, and
other similar materials, than that of merely lit-
tering animals. They are likewise useful in sav-
ing much labor, by their being always ready and
at hand.
A lofty stable is recommended by White
(Treatise on Veter. Med. p. 1), fifteen or twenty
but never less than twelve feet high, with an
opening in the ceiling for ventilation. The
floor he prefers is brick or limestone, inclining
not more from the manger to the gutter than an
inch in a yard. Some litter, he says, should
always be allowed for a horse to stale upon,
which should be swept away as often as is
necessary. This, with a pail or two of water,
thrown upon the floor, and swept off while the
horse is at exercise, will keep the stable per-
fectly clean, and free from offensive smells. The
depth of a stable should never be less than
twenty feet, nor the height less than twelve. The
width of a stall should not be less than six feet
clear. But, when there is sufficient room, it is a
much better plan to allow each horse a space of
ten or twelve feet, where he may be loose and
exercise himself a little. This will be an effec-
tual means of avoiding swollen heels, and a
great relief to horses that are worked hard.
With respect to the rack and manger, White
prefers the former on the ground rising three
feet high, eighteen inches deep from front to
back, and four feet long. The manger, eighteen
inches deep, eighteen inches from front to back,
and five feet in length. The rack he prefers
being closed in front. ' Farm stables in Scot-
land,' says the editor of The Farmer's Maga-
zine, ' are constructed in such a manner that all
the horses stand in a line, with their heads to-
wards the same side wall, instead of standing in
two lines, fronting opposite walls, as formerly.
Those lately erected are at least sixteen feet wide
within walls, and sometimes eighteen, and the
width of each stall upon the length of the stable
is commonly five feet. To save a little room,
>;t:ills of nine feet are sometimes made to hold
two horses, and, in that case, the manner and the
wjrlth of the stall are divided into equal purls
l<v \\hat is called a half trevice, or a part. (ion
about halC the depth of that which ^oj-arairs one
stall from another. By this contrivance, each
horse indeed eats his food by himself; but the
expense of single stalls is more than compen-
sated by the greater ease, security, and comfort
of the horses.
It may be of importance to observe here that
stables should be better lighted than is com-
monly the case, as the blindness which is so fre-
quently met with among horses has really been
attributed, and not without probability, to an
excess of the stimulus of light on their coming
out of dark or dusky stables. Another practical
hint.
Farm-stables are mostly, during -the summer
months, much exposed to the open air, the
doors, wickets, or windows of them being very
seldom shut, except at night, and then but rarely;
the consequence is, that flies, which are attracted
by the horse-dung and other similar matters, have
very free access; but as it may commonly be
observed that in such exposed stables, too, the
spider is very prevalent, as is seen by the num-
ber of cobwebs, it may, of course, be unwise.
and improper to disturb or destroy them, and
the insect should probably be cherished in such
stables, as it may save the horse from the irrita-
tion of a variety of troublesome enemies and
disturbers. It has been observed by Mr. Van-
couver, that, except in Ireland, where the metho'1
of treating farm-horses is extremely bad irul.ed,
those in the county of Devon have perhaps as
hard measure dealt out to them as is any \\licn-
to be met with in the United Kingdom. 1 roi:i
the injudicious manner in which they receive i!,,-
corn, that is occasionally given them, it is sup-
posed, in some measure, a questionable poii't,
whether it affords them a benefit, or, by diu -:t-
ing their appetites from the hay, pea-hauni, or
other sorts of straw, absolutely produces an in-
jury and disadvantage, in consequence oi
avidity with which they swallow the corn in an
unmasticated or unchewed state. In order to
rectify and remedy such improper mode-
management in the stable, and other treatment i<f
farm and heavy team-horses, a better and more
desirable example, .it is thought, can no \\
be found than that which may be drawn from
the management of farm and waggon-horses in
Pennsylvania and Maryland. These horses, it
is said, perform journeys of 200 and 300 mile-;
over the stupendous mountains of that country,
with prodigious loads of wheat and flour from
the interior, and wet and dry goods from the
sea-ports to the different points of embarkation,
at 1 ort Pitt, Red-stone, Charlestown, Wheeling,
and other places on the Ohio River. Notwith-
standing which, these waggon-horses, through
the whole extent of that country, are, it is as-
serted, seldom seen in a less high condition than
the brewers' and other large cart-horses in the
metropolis of this country. The manner in
which these American horses are sustained and
supported, so as to perform these labors, is, it is
said, generally by feeding them, in the stables
and on the roads, with hay and straw chopped
in short pieces about half an inch in length, \\ ith
which is mixed about half a peck of rye, oat, and
Indian corn-meal, to about two and a half or
three pecks of hay c!i<>|>ped in the same manner.
Imu-trough, sufficiently large for four or
RURAL ARCHITECTURE.
87
five horses to eat out of at the same time, is at-
tached to each waggon, it is said, while on the
road. The chaff is put into this trough, and,
after being well mixed with the given quantity
of meal, is moistened, and again well stirred
together, until every shred or part of the hay or
chopped straw is found to be covered, or, as it
were, frosted over by the meal. The avidity
with which the horses eat their meat, or proven-
der, when thus prepared, may, it is supposed,
be readily conceived. Their feed or meal being
finished, they either pursue their journey or lie
down to rest : but in either case, it is observed,
not without being well dressed, and perfectly
freed and cleansed from the muddy and other
effects of their last labor. It is the pride and
pleasure, it is said, of the carters, as well as of
the waggon masters in that country, to see their
horses in a condition above rather than under
the labor which they have to perform; and in
100 miles travelling, from Baltimore to Philadel-
phia, it is confidently asserted that as many
prime waggon-horses, and in as high condition,
may be seen, as is the case in any direction for
the same distance from the chief city of this
country.
What are called korse-hanimeh, or sheds, with
distinct yards, have been used as stables with great
success in Berwickshire. Each shed holds two
horses, with a nitch for harness ; to each there is
an open straw yard, of small size, with a water
trough, and a gate large enough to admit a cart
to take out the dung. Mr. Herriot, of Lady-
kirk, has long used these buildings, and has lost
no horse by death for a number of years. His
horses lie in these open hammels in winter ; and
it is remarked that in frosty weather, when snow
is falling, and lying on the ground, the animals
do not go under cover, but prefer to lie out, with
their backs and sides covered with snow. It is
known that, if a horse is kept out in winter, he
will have no grease, nor swelled legs, and perhaps
few other diseases. Every farmer who keeps a
large stock of horses, occasionally loses one by
inflammation, brought on by coughs and colds ;
but the horses of the farmer alluded to become
aged, and he has not had occasion to purchase a
young horse for several years.' — (Husb. of Scot.
i. 26.)
3. Of buildings for live stock. — The cattle-
shed is used both for lodging milch cows, and
feeding cattle for the butcher. The principal
requisites are, that they can be readily and well
aired, and that they are so constructed as to save
labor in feeding and cleaning the cattle. There
are three ways in which cattle are placed in
them ; first, in a row towards one of the walls ;
secondly, in two rows, either fronting each other,
with a passage between, or with the heads to
each wall ; or thirdly, across the building in suc-
cessive rows. It is common to have an opening
in the walls, through which turnips are supplied ;
but the plan most approved, and now becoming
general, is to fix the stakes to which the cattle
are tied about two and a half or three feet from
the wall, which allows the cattle-man, without
going among them, to fill the troughs successively
from his wheelbarrow or basket. It is also an
improvement to keep the cattle separate, by par-
titions at least between every two. The width
of such stalls should not be less than seven feet
and a half.
Cattle hammels have also been adopted in
Berwickshire. Two cattle are here usually kept
together, and go loose, in which way they are
thought by some to thrive better than when tied
to a stake, and, at the same time, feed more at
their ease than when a number are kept together.
All that is necessary is, to run partition walls
across the sheds and yards of the farmers ; or, if
these are allotted to rearing stock, one side of
the square, separated by a cart-way from the
straw-yards, may be appropriated to the ham-
mels. In the usual management of a row of
hammels, in Berwickshire, there is one hammel
at one end used as a temporary repository for
roots and straw for the cattle ; then each hammel
consists of the open yard, and the covered part ;
the entrance door, of which there is only one to
each hammel, is in the wall of the yard, and on
each side of it are two troughs for food, and a
crib for hay, straw, cut clover, or other herbage
in summer.
Calf-pens, or stages, are common additions to
cow-houses. The floor should be made of laths
or spars about two inches broad, laid at the dis-
tance of an inch from each other, upon joists, so
as to make it about ten or twelve inches from
the ground : and the place below should be often
cleaned. This is the principal suggestion we
have to offer : but a slight partition of about
three feet high between the calves, and a rack
for the hay, are also improvements.
The calf-pens of Gloucestershire, as described
by Marshal, are of admirable construction. A
pen which holds seven, or occasionally eight
calves, is of the following description : — The
house or roomstead, in which it is placed, mea-
sures twelve feet by eight : four feet of its width
are occupied by the stage, and one foot by a
trough placed on its front ; leaving three feet as
a gangway, into the middle of which the door
opens. The floor of the stage is formed of laths,
about two inches square, lying lengthways of the
stage, and one inch asunder. The front fence is
of staves, an inch and a half diameter, nine
inches from middle to middle, and three feet
high : entered at the bottom into the front bearer
of the floor (from which cross-joists pass into
the back wall), and steadied at the top by a rail ;
which, as well as the bottom piece, is entered at
each end into the end wall. The holes in the upper
rail are wide enough to permit the staves to be
lifted up and taken out, to give admission to the
calves ; one of which is fastened to every second
stave, by means of two rings of iron joined by
a swivel ; one ring playing upon the stave, the
other receiving a broad leathern collar, buckled
round the neck of the calf. The trough is for
barley-meal, chalk, &c., and to rest the pails on.
Two calves drink out of one pail, putting their
heads through between the staves. The heigh.:
of the floor of the stage from the floor of the
room is about one foot. It is thought to be
wrong to hang it higher, lest, by the wind draw-
ing under it, the calves should be too cold in
severe weather : this, however, might be easily
prevented by litter, or long strawy dung thrust
88
RURAL ARCHITECTURE.
beneath it. It is observable that- these stages
are fit only for calves which are fed with the pail,
not for calves which suck the cow.
Hog-styes are generally constructed with
shed-roofs, about six or seven feet wide, with
height in proportion. They should be at no
great distance from the house ; while the less
they arc connected with the other buildings of the
farm the better. Swine, it seems, though gene-
rally considered as filthy animals, delight in a
clean and comfortable place to lie down in, and
cleanliness has a better effect upon no animal,
with respect to their thriving, lu order to keep
them dry, a sufficient slope must be given, not
only to the inside places but to the outside
areas; these should be a little elevated, having
steps up from them of at least five or six inches.
Hog-styes should likewise have divisions, to
keep the different sorts of swine separate; nor
should many ever be allowed to be together.
According to Marshal, every pig should have
a rubbing-post. ' Having occasion,' says he, 'to
shift two hogs out of a sty without one, into
another with a post, accidentally put up to sup-
port the roof, he had a full opportunity of ob-
serving its use. The animals, when they went
in, were dirty, with broken ragged coats, and
with dull heavy countenances. In a few days
they cleared away their coats, cleaned their
skins, and became sleeky haired.' They enjoyed
their post like a placeman. It was discernible
in their looks, in their liveliness, and apparent
contentment. It is not probable that any animal
should thrive while afflicted with pain or un-
easiness. Graziers suffer single trees to grow, or
put up dead posts in the ground, for their cattle
to rub themselves against ; yet it is probable that
a rubbing-post has never been placed intention-
ally in a sty ; though, perhaps, for a two-fold
reason, rubbing is most requisite to swine.
' In farm-yards,' says Mr. Loudon, ' the pig-
geries and poultry-houses generally occupy the
south side of the area, in low buildings, which may
be overlooked from the farmer's dwelling-house.
They should open behind into the straw-yards or
dungheap, to allow the hogs and fowls to pick
up the corn left on the straw, or what turnips,
clover, or other matters are refused by the cat-
tle. They should have openings outwards, that
the pigs may be let out to range round the
farmery at convenient times ; and that the poul-
try may have ingress and egress from that side
as well as the other.'
Beatson (Com. to the Board of Ag. vol. i.), is
of opinion that poultry ought always to be con-
fined, but not in a close, dark, diminutive hovel,
as is often the case ; they should have a spaci-
ous airy place, properly constructed for them.
Some people are of opinion that each sort
should be kept by itself. This, however, is not,
he thinks, necessary ; for all sorts may be kept
promiscuously together, provided they have a
place sufficiently large to accommodate them,
and proper divisions and nests for each kind to
retire to separately, which they will naturally do.
Wakefield of Liverpool keeps a large stock of
turkeys, geese, hens, and ducks, all in the same
place : and, although young turkeys are in gene-
.-al considered so difficult to bring up, he rears
great numbers in this manner every season. For
this purpose he has about three-quarters, or nearly
a whole acre, enclosed with a fence only six or
seven feet high, formed of slabs set on end, or
any thinnings of fir or other trees split and put
close together. They are fastened by a rail near
the top and another near the bottom, and are
pointed sharp, which he supposes prevents the
poultry flying over, for they never attempt it,
although so low. Within this fence are places
done up slightly (but well secured from wet) for
each sort of poultry-; also a pond or stream of
water running through it. These poultry are fed
almost entirely with potatoes boiled in steam,
and thrive astonishingly well. The quantity of
dung that is made in this poultry place is also
an object worth attention : and, when it is cleaned
out, a thin paring of the surface is at the same
time taken off, which makes a valuable compost,
for the purpose of manure. But, for keeping
poultry upon a small scale, it is only necessary
to have a small shed or slight building, formed
in some warm sheltered sunny situation : if near
"the kitchen or other place where a constant fire
is kept so much the better, with proper divisions,
boxes, baskets, or other contrivances for the
different sorts of birds, and for their laying and
incubation.
1 The poultry-house should,' says Young, ' con-
tain an apartment for the general stock to roost
in, another for setting, a third for fattening, and
a fourth for food. If the scale is large, there
should be a fifth for plucking and keeping fea-
thers. If a woman is kept purposely to attend
them, she should have her cottage contiguous,
that the smoke of her chimney may play into
the roosting and setting rooms : poultry never
thriving so well as in warmth and smoke ; an
observation as old as Columella, and strongly
confirmed by the quantity bred in the smoky
cabins of Ireland. For setting both turkeys and
hens, nests should be made in lockers, that have
lids with hinges, to confine them, if necessary,
or two or three will, he says, in sitting, crowd
into the same nest. All must have access to a
gravelled yard, and to grass for range, and the
building should be near the farm-yard, and have
clear water near. Great attention should be
paid to cleanliness and whitewashing, not for ap-
pearance, but to destroy vermin.' Loudon re-
commends for the interior a sloping stage of
spars for the poultry to sit on ; ' beneath this
stage may be two ranges of boxes for nests ; the
roof should have a ceiling to keep the whole
warm in winter, and the door should be nearly
as high as the ceiling for ventilation, and should
have a small opening with a shutter at bottom,
which, where there is no danger from dogs or
foxes, may be left open at all times to admit of
the poultry going in and out. The spars on
which the clawed birds are to roost should not
be round and smooth, but roundish and roughish,
like the branch of a tree. The floor must be
dry, and kept clean for the web-footed kinds.'
4. Of the barn. — Barns should, if possible,
be placed on a declivity ; and, according to the
recommendation of the Annals of Agriculture,
vol. xvi., should be underpinned with brick or
stone ; the roof covered with reed or straw ; and
\'U1. lil I'AC.KW).
KT KM, AUi'll [TE<TTID K K
RURAL ARCHITECTURE.
89
those of adjoining stables (if any), with slate.
At each end of the barn, and over the back door,
small doors, four feet square, should be fixed at
the height of twelve feet from the ground ; the
two former for putting corn in at the ends, and
the latter for filling the middle of the barn after
the bays are full. All the bays should have a
floor of clay or marie, and the threshing-floor be
made with hard bricks, which will be sufficient
for all sorts of grain except wheat and rye ; and
for threshing them it will be good economy to
have planks of oak or red deal well fitted toge-
ther and numbered, to be laid down occasionally
and confined by a frame. A barn built on such
a plan would hold a great deal of corn and be
filled most conveniently ; and, if the stacks were
built at each end, they might be taken in without
any carting. If more buildings are requisite,
two may be added on the back side like the sta-
bles in front ; otherwise if doors are made under
the eaves on the back side, as directed at the
ends, and stacks be placed opposite to them just
far enough to avoid the eaves dropping, by plac-
ing a waggon between them and the barn by way
of a stage, these stacks may be taken in without
carting ; which method spares a great waste of
corn and much trouble. The spars of the roofs
of the stables rest upon the upper cills of the
sides of the barn, and the outside wall of the
stables is eight feet high ; the barn supplying the
highest side and one end of each stable, and the
stables in return are buttresses to the barn. An
elevated barn floor is both more durable, and
less subject to vermin ; the grain is kept more
dry and sweet than on a ground floor, and cannot
slip through it without discovery. When built
in this way, barns should have a southern aspect,
the arches of the cattle-stalls facing that way.
Mr. Marshal, in the Rural Economy of York-
shire, speaks highly of the advantages of barns
formed in this manner.
In respect to the size of barns, the same writer
observes, that in Gloucestershire fifty-two by
twenty feet in the clear, and from sixteen to
twenty feet in height to the plate, is considered
a good barn ; these dimensions admitting of four
bays of ten feet each, with a floor in the middle.
The advantage of having buildings of this sort
conveniently situated is extremely great, both in
regard to the feeding of cattle, sheep, and hogs,
and likewise in the economy of labor and fodder.
The invention of threshing machines has of
late varied the construction of barns, as where
they are made use of they should be contrived
chiefly with a view to the working of them : the
machines being built in the centre, with the grain
stacks adjoining them, in such a manner as that
they may be supplied without the assistance of
carts or horses. The barns in these cases need
not be so large, but they should have granaries
provided in them, which may probably be most
conveniently placed over the floors. In most
old barns, threshing machines may be erected
without much inconvenience ; and notwithstand-
ing the superiority of stacking grain in the open
air has been fully shown, and of course the ne-
cessity of large barns in a great measure done
away, many agricultors are still attached to the
method of housing corn in the straw.
The hay-barn is generally constructed of tim-
ber, and open on the south or east, or even on
all sides. In Middlesex there are many hay-
barns capable of holding from thirty to fifty, and
some even 1 00, loads of hay. They are found
to be extremely useful and convenient during a
catching and unsettled hay-harvest.
In plate II. RURAL ARCHITECTURE, are, fig.
1 . The ground plan and elevation of a common
double barn : a wall is often run across the middle
of these buildings ; they are chiefly serviceable
for the storage of grain in the straw, and are of
all sizes. Fig. 2 is the ground plan and eleva-
tion of an open improved barn, the threshing
floor of which is towards one end ; and on each
side of it below are divisions for different pur-
poses : the corn being kept above in the straw.
This is an economical and airy building. Figs. 3
and 4 are a front and end elevation of a barn
adapted for a two-horse threshing-machine. This
barn is fifty-five feet in length within the walls,
-and seventeen in width. The walls are ten feet
high, which idmits of a granary or room thirty
feet long above the machine, shown by the dotted
line in the elevation. The floor is not continued
the whole length, in order that there may be
more room left in the other end for unthreshed
grain, which is introduced at the end. The ma-
chine within the barn is only ten feet by seven,
including the distance from the wall. The horse
beam is twenty-four feet in length, and gives
motion by a laying shaft through the wall, to the
machine within. There is no shed or cover over
the horse-path. The expense of a machine on
this plan will be from thirty to forty pounds.
In barns with threshing machines, the granary
is almost always formed immediately above the
floor on which the machine works ; which admits
raising the corn to it directly from the ground-
floor, either by the threshing-mill iiself, or a
common windlass. When it is to be taken out,
and carried to market, it may be lowered down
upon carts with the utmost facility. See our
article GRANARY.
5. Off the straw-house, cart-sheds, root-house,
4-c. — The straw-house, when distinct from the
barn, should be placed at the end of the cattle-
sheds, opposite to the root-house, and have a
cart entrance, and an inner door communicating
with the feeder's walk. Straw, however, is often
stacked, in preference to placing it in a straw-
house, especially where farming is on any con-
siderable scale.
Cart-sheds or lodges, for the protection of
carts or waggons, should be near the farm-yard.
Carts, &c., under proper shelter when out of
use, will last much longer than if left exposed
in the yard to the weather; for, as they are thus
sometimes wet, and sometimes dry, they soon
rot. The dust and nastiness should also be con-
stantly washed off before they are laid up in
these places.
The root house is intended for depositing or
stowing away potatoes, turnips, cabbages, and
other roots or tops for the winter feed of cattle.
It should join the cattle-sheds, and communicate
with them by an inner door that opens into the
feeder's walk, and the entrance door ought to
admit a loaded cart. These houses seem very
RURAL ECONOMY.
necessary wherever there is a number of cows
or other cattle supported on roots or cabbages,
as without them it would not only be inconve-
nient, but in many cases in severe weather im-
possible to provide for them the daily supply.
Cabbages should not, however, be kept long in-
doors, as they are very liable to the putrid fer-
mentation. The master should be careful that
the yard-man constantly keeps such places per-
fectly clean and sweet, in order that the roots
may contract no bad smell, as cattle are in many
cases extremely nice in this respect.
The appendages to farm buildings are the
dung-yards, pits, and reservoirs, the rick-yard,
straw-yard, poultry-yard, drying-yard, garden,
orchard, and cottage-yards. These vary so much,
according to situation and other circumstances,
that a description of them seems needless in this
place.
Corn-stands have been of late considered re-
quisite fixtures of a stack-yard ; their basements
are of timber, masonry, or iron, on which the
stack is built, and their object is to keep the
lower part dry, and exclude vermin. A usual
mode of constructing them is to place a stout
frame of timber on uprigh . stones, two feet high,
and having projecting caps of flat stones. They
are also constructed wholly of stone, of circular
or polygonal walls. In both modes, pieces of
timber are placed as a frame in the middle to
support the grain upon, and generally a cone of
spars in the centre, to form a funnel. Cast iron
stands (plate II. fig. 5) for stacks, on pillars
about three feet high, and weighing half a hun-
dred weight each, have been introduced with
success in some parts of the country. They are
made both with and without hollow cones or
triangles. A stack requires seven pillars, besides
the framing, which may either be made of poles
or young trees. In the wet climate of Clack-
mannanshire wheat has been stacked in five
days, beans in eight, and barley and oats in ten
days and sometimes earlier. No vermin can
find their way into these stacks to consume the
grain, and the straw is better preserved. The
cone or triangle keeps up a circulation of air,
and prevents heating, or other damage. (Gen.
Rep. of Scotland, Vol. IV., Appendix p. 379).
Hay-stands have been constructed in a similar
RURAL ECONOMY
RCRAI ECONOMY. Under this general head
we have determined to include those practical
parts of the science of agriculture which could not
conveniently be embraced in the general article
of that name. See AGRICULTURE.
In that article we have taken a general view
of soils, and of the ordinary principles of amelio-
rating them by manuring, ploughing, rotation of
crops, &c. In the present paper we propose to
treat, 1. Of the arable system. 2. Of grazing.
3. Of the modern convertible system. 4. Of
the cultivation of plants that are articles of com-
merce. 5. Of the management of live stock.
6. Of implements of husbandry. The dairy, and
its general economy, have engaged our attention
under the article DAIRY.
PART I.
OF THE ARABLE SYSTEM.
In laying out a farm on the arable system, it has
been recommended that attention be paid to that
course of crops, which the quality of the soil may
point out ; and that, upon all farms not below a
medium size, there should be twice the numberof
enclosures that there are divisions or breaks in
the course. Thus, if a six years' rotation be
thought most profitable, there should be twelve
enclosures, two of which are always under the
same crop. One advantage in tin's arrange-
ment is, that it tends greatly to equalize labor,
and, with a little attention, may contribute much
to equalise the produce. On large farms, where
all the land under turnips and clover, for instance,
is near the extremity of the grounds, or at a con-
siderable distance from the buildings, supposed
to be set down near the centre, it is clear that
the labor of supplying the house and straw-yard
stock with these crops, as well as the carriage of
the manure to the field, is much greater than if
the fields were so arranged as that the half of
each of these crops had been near the offices.
But, by means of two fields for each crop in the
rotation, it is quite easy to connect together one
field near the houses with another at a distance ;
thus having a supply at hand for the home stock,
while the distant crops may be consumed on the
ground. The same equalisation of labor should
be observed in the cultivation of the corn fields,
and in harvesting the crops. By this kind of
arrangement a field of inferior soil may be so
connected with one that is naturally rich, that
the former may be gradually brought up in pro-
duce towards the level of the latter, without any
injury. For instance, a field under turnips may
be so fertile that it would be destructive to the
succeeding corn crop to consume the whole or
the greater part on the ground ; while another
may be naturally so poor, or so deficient in te-
nacity, as to make it inexpedient to spare any
part for consumption elsewhere. By connecting
these two under the same crop, — by carrying
from the one what turnips are wanted for the
feeding-houses and straw-yards, and eating the
whole crop of the other on the ground with
sheep, the ensuing crop of corn will not be so
luxuriant on the former as to be unproductive,
while the latter will seldom fail to yield abund-
antly.
1. In preparing land for crop ping, the first thing
that occurs is to consider the obstructions to regular
ploughing. The most formidable of these are
stones lying above or below the surface. Stones
above the surface may be avoided by the plough-
man, though not without loss of ground ; but
stones below the surface are commonly not dis-
covered till the plough is shattered to pieces,
and perhaps a day's work lost. The clearing
land of stones is therefore necessary to prevent
mischief. And. to encourage the operation, it is
RURAL ECONOMY.
91
attended with much actual profit. In the first
place, the stones are often useful for fences :
when large they must be blown, and are com-
monly proper for building. And, as the blowing
with gunpowder does not exceed a halfpenny for
each inch that is bored, these stones come gene-
rally cheaper than to dig as many out of the
quarry. 2dly, As the soil round a large stone is
commonly the best in the field, it is purchased
at a low rate by taking out the stone ; for not
only is the ground lost that is occupied by a
large stone, but also a considerable space round
it, to which the plough has not access without
danger. A third advantage is that the plowing
can be carried on with much expedition, when
there is no apprehension of stones : in stony
land, the plough must proceed so slow, as not to
perform half of its work.
But to clear land of stones is an undertaking
too expensive for a tenant who has not a long
lease. As it is, however, so important both to
him and to his landlord, it appears reasonable
that the expense should be divided, where the
lease does not exceed nineteen or twenty years.
It falls naturally upon the landlord to be at the
expense of raising the stones, and upon the te-
nant to carry them off the field.
Another obstruction is wet ground. Water
may improve gravelly or sandy soils ; but it
sours a clay soil, or renders it unfit for vegeta-
tion, and converts low ground into a morass.
A great deal has been written upon different
methods of draining land. See DRAINING. One
way of draining without expense, when land is to
be enclosed with hedge and ditch, is to direct
the ditches so as to carry off the water. But
this method is not always practicable. If the
run of water be considerable, it will destroy the
ditches, and lay open the fences, especially where
the soil is loose or sandy. If ditches will not
answer, hollow drains are sometimes made, and
sometimes open drains, made so deep as to com-
mand the water. The former is filled up with
loose stones, with brush-wood, or with any other
porous matter that permits the water to pass.
The latter is left open. To make the former ef-
fectual, the ground must have such a slope as to
give the water a brisk course. To attempt to
execute them in a level ground is an error ; the
passages are soon stopped up with sand and se-
diment, and the work is rendered useless. This
inconvenience takes not place in open drains ;
but they are subject to other inconveniences.
They are always filling up, and make a yearly
reparation necessary; and they obstruct both
ploughing and pasturing.
The following open drain is one of the best.
It is made with the plough, cleaving the space
intended for the drain over and over, till the fur-
row be made of a sufficient depth for carrying
off the water. The slope on either side may, by
repeated ploughings, be made so gentle as to
give no obstruction either to the plough or to the
harrow. There is no occasion for a spade, unless
to smooth the sides, and to remove accidental
obstructions in the bottom. This drain is exe-
cuted at much less expense than either of the
former ; and it is perpetual, as it can never be
obstructed. In level ground indeed grass may
grow at the bottom, but to clear off tho grass
once in four or five years will restore it to its
original perfection. A hollow drain may be
proper between the spring-head and the main
drain, where the distance is not great ; but in
every other case the drain recommended is the best.
N\ here a level field is infested with water from
higher ground, the water ought to be intercepted
by a ditch carried along the foot of the high
ground, and terminating in some capital drain.
The only way to clear a field of water that is hol-
low in the middle is to carry it off by some
drain still lower.
A clay soil of any thickness is often pestered
with rain, which settles on the surface. The
only remedy is high narrow ridges, well rounded.
And, to clear the furrows, the furrow of the foot-
ridge ought to be considerably lower, to carry
off the water cleverly. It cannot be made too
low, as nothing hurts clay soil more than the
stagnation of water on it. Some gravelly soils
have a clay bottom ; which is a substantial be-
nefit to a field when in grass, as it remains
moister. But, when in tillage, ridges are ne-
cessary to prevent rain from settling at the bot-
tom ; and this is the only case where a gravelly
soil ought to be ridged. Clay soils that have
little or no level have sometimes a gravelly bot-
tom. For discharging the water, the best method
is, at the end of every ridge to pierce down to the
gravel, which will absorb the water. But if the
furrow of the foot-ridge be low enough to receive
all the water it will be more expeditious to make
a few holes in that furrow. In some cases, a
field may be drained, by filling up the hollows
with earth from higher ground. But, as this me-
thod is expensive, it will only be taken where
no other method answers. Where a field hap-
pens to be partly wet, partly dry, there ought to
be a separation by a middle ridge, if it can be
done conveniently ; and the dry part may be
ploughed while the other is drying.
Some of the low parts of Scotland are of a
brick clay soil, extremely wet in winter. This
in a good measure may be prevented by proper
enclosing, as there is scarcely a field but can be
drained into lower ground. But as this would
lessen the quantity of rain in a dry climate, such
as is all the east side of Britain, it may admit ot
some doubt whether the remedy would not be as
bad as the disease.
To improve a moor, let it be opened in winter
when it is wet ; and when the plough cannot be
employed at any other work. In spring, after
frost is over, a slight harrowing will fill up the
seams with mould, to keep out the air, and rot
the sod. In that state let it lie the following
summer and winter, which will rot the sod more
than if laid open to the air by ploughing. Next
April, let it be cross-ploughed, breaked, and
harrowed, till it be sufficiently pulverised. Let
the manure laid upon it, whether lime or dunu,
be intimately mixed with the soil by repeated
harrowirgs. This will make a fine bed for tur-
nip seed if sown broad-cast. But, if drills be
intended, the method must be followed that is
directed afterward in treating of the culture of
turnip. A successful turnip-crop, fed on the
ground by sheep, is a fine preparation for laying
RURAL ECONOMY.
down a field with grass seeds. It is an improve-
ment upon this method, to take two or three
successive crops of turnip, which will require no
dung for the second and following crops. This
will thicken the soil, and enrich it greatly.
The best way of improving swampy ground,
after draining, is paring and burning. But
where the ground is dry, and the soil so thin as
that the surface cannot be pared, the way of
bringing it into tilth from the state of nature is
to plough it with a feathered sock, laying the
grassy surface under. After the new suiface is
mellowed with frost, fill up all the seams by har-
rowing cross the field, which by excluding the air
will effectually rot the sod. In this state let it
lie summer and winter. In the beginning of
May after, a cross-ploughing will reduce all to
small square pieces, which must be pulverised
with the brake, and made ready for a May or
June crop. If these square pieces be allowed to
lie long in the sap without breaking, they will
become tough and not be easily reduced.
On the subject of paring and burning, Mr. Lou-
don says, ' The season for this operation is April,
May, and June : the particular period must, how-
ever, always depend much on the state of the
weather and the nature of the crop. When the
east winds prevail, in February and March, this
sort of business may sometimes be carried on.
But for accomplishing the work with the greatest
despatch, and also with the least trouble and ex-
pense, a dry season is obviously the best. The
prudent cultivator should not embark in the un-
dertaking unless there be a reasonable probability
of his accomplishing it while the weather keeps
dry and favorable. The latter end of May or the
beginning of June, when the hurry of the spring-
seed time is over, in the more northern districts,
when a number of hands can be most easily pro-
cured may, upon the whole, be considered as the
best and most convenient season ; as at this
period the green vegetable products are in their
most succulent state, and of course may probably
afford more saline matter ; but in the more
southern counties either a much earlier season
must be taken, or the interval between the hay
season and the harvest time must be fixed upon,
the latter of which is, on the principle just stated,
evidently the best, where the extent of ground
to be burnt is not too large. In other seasons
it would frequently be impossible to procure a
sufficient number of hands for performing the
business. In bringing waste lands into cultiva-
tion, where an extensive tract of ground is to un-
dergo this process, the autumn may, in many
cases, afford a convenient opportunity for the
operation. A good deal depends on the crops
that are to be sown after paring and burning.
When rape or turnips are to be cultivated, the
end of May, or the beginning of June, will be
the most proper time: but, if barley or oats are
to be sown, the paring and burning must be
completed as early in spring as the nature of the
season will admit ; and, when lands are pared
and burned as a preparation for a crop of wheat,
July, or even the beginning of August, may, in
favorable seasons, answer ; but U is better to
have the ground ready sooner if possible. In
respect to the depth to which lands of different
qualities maybe pared with the most advantage,
it is obvious that, as it can hardly be prope.- to
pare light, thin-stapled soils, to the same depths
as those of the more deep and heavy kinds, it
should, in some degree, be regulated by their
particular nature, and their differences in re-
spect to heaviness. Boys, who is in the habit
of breaking up thin chalky soils, and sucli
as have been in tillage, in this way, observes
that in Kent, where the method of paring most
in use is with down-shares or breast ploughs,
they take off turfs as thick as the nature of the
soil will admit, from half an inch to two inches ;
the thicker the better, provided there be a suffi-
cient portion of vegetable matter contained
within them to make them burn well. The most
usual depths of paring are from about one to
three inches.
' In regard to burning, when the season is not
very wet, the turfs will commonly be sufficiently
dried in about a fortnight or three weeks, even
without being turned ; but in rainy weather they
require a longer time, and must be turned more;
than once to prevent their striking out roots and
shoots, which might hinder them from burning.
As soon as the turfs have fully undergone tho
process of burning, and are reduced to the state
of ashes and a powdery earthy matter, the whole
should, as soon as possible, be spread out over
the land in as regular and equal a manner as
the nature of the work will admit of ; for, without
great attention in this respect, great inequality
in the crops may take place ; besides the soil
will be made lighter in some places than in
others, which may be disadvantageous in the
same way. The spreading, where it ran by any
means be accomplished, should always be per-
formed before any rain falls ; as, where this point
is not attended to, a great loss may be sustained
by the saline matters being carried down in a
state of solution, and their beneficial effects in a
great measure lost before the crops are in a con-
dition to receive them. In order to secure tho
full influence of the ashes, the land is frequently
slightly ploughed over immediately after the
ashes are spread out And it is stated by Do-
naldson that those who are more than ordinarily
attentive in this respect only rib or slob furrow
the field, so that the ashes after burning may be
covered up with the greater expedition and de-
spatch. By this mode they cannot probably,
however, be so equally mixed with the soil as by
that of ploughing the whole field with a very
slight furrow, so as just to cover them. The ex-
pense of the operation of paring and burning
will vary according to the nature and situation
of the land, the method in which it is performed,
and the customs of the district in regard to the
price of labor. On the thin sort of chalky soils
it is stated by Boys that the expense for paring
at a moderate thickness, where the land is not
very flinty, is about equal to four or five plough-
ings.'
We add this writer's remarks on the operation
of drying and burning clay for manure, as it is in
several respects similar to that of paring and
burning. ' The practice of burning clay,' ho
observes, ' has at various times been pursued with
energy and success, and at other times has fallen
RURAL ECONOM.Y.
into neglect. The oldest book in which it is
mentioned is probably The Country Gentleman's
Companion, by Stephen Switzer, gardener, Lon-
don, 1732. In that work it is stated that the
earl of Halifax was the inventor of this useful
improvement; and that it was much practised
in Sussex. There are engravings of two kilns
for burning clay, one adopted in England, and
the other in Scotland ; where it is said to have
been ascertained that lands, reduced by tillage to
poverty, would produce an excellent crop of tur-
nips if the ground were ploughed two or three
times, and clay ashes spread over it. In the
same work there are several letters, written in
the years 1730 and 1731, stating that the plan
of burning clay had answered in several parts of
England ; and accounts were received from Scot-
land that, upon experiment, it had answered
better than either lime or dung, but was found
too expensive. The practice is described at
length in Ellis's Practical Farmer, or Hertford-
shire Husbandman, 1732. In 1786 James Ar-
buthuot, of Peterhead, tried several successful
experiments with burning clay, and various
others have since been made in different parts
of the empire. In 1814 the practice was revived
and written on by Craig, of Callay, near Dum-
fries, and soon after by general Beatson, near
Tunbridge ; by Curwen, Burrows, and several
correspondents of agricultural journals. In
Ireland, it would appear, the practice prevails in
several places, and Craig says he adopted it from
seeing its effects there. The result of the whole
is, that the benefits of this mode of manuring
have been greatly exaggerated ; though they
certainly appear to be considerable on clayey
soils. Aiton (Farmer's Magazine, vol. xxii. p.
423) compares this rage for burning clay, which
existed in 1815, to the fiorin mania of a few years
prior date. In 1822 he found few of the advo-
cates for these improvements disposed to say
much on the subject, and saw very few clay
kilns smoking. ' To give my ultimatum upon
this subject,' he says, ' I regret that the disco-
verers of fiorin grass, and of the effects of burnt
clay, have so far overrated their value. Both are
useful and proper to be attended to ; — the grass
to be raised on patches of marshy ground, and
used as green food to cattle in winter; and the
burnt earth as a corrector of the mechanical ar-
rangement of a stubborn clay soil ; and I have
no doubt but if they had been only recommended
for those valuable purposes they would have been
brought into more general use than they yet are
or will be, till the prejudice against them, arising
from the disappointment of expectations raised
high by too flattering descriptions, are removed.'
He thus describes the action of burnt clay : —
• It must be obvious to every person that has
paid attention to the subject, that when clay, or
other earth, is burnt into ashes like brick-dust,
it will not (unless acids be applied to it) return
again to its former state of clay, but will remain
in the granulated state of ashes or friable mould,
to which it was reduced by the operation of
burning. An admixture of this kind, with a
strong adhesive clay, must evidently operate as
a powerful manure bf changing the mechanical
arrangement of the latter and rendering it more
friable; giving greater facility to the protection
of redundant moisture, and to the spreading ot
the roots of vegetables in quest of food. The
application of as much water, sand, or any simi-
lar substance, would have exactly the same effect
in opening, and keeping open, the pores of an
adhesive clay soil, and converting it into the
quality loam. Besides this, which would be a
permanent improvement upon the staple or tex-
ture of every clay soil, burnt clay or torrefied
earth may sometimes acquire, in this operation,
a small quantity of soot or carbonic matter, that
may, in favorable circumstances, operate for one
season as a manure, or as a stimulus to a small
extent to the growth of vegetables. This at
least may be the case if the clay or earth burnt
shall abound with vegetable matter, and if the
burning is conducted in such a smothered way
as to prevent the smoke or vegetable matter from
escaping. But as it is the subsoil that is recom-
mended, and seems to be generally used for
burning, it is impossible any considerable quan-
tity of vegetable matter fcan be found in it. The
calcareous matter in the soil, it is said, will be
calcined and formed into lime by the operation
of burning. But I am disposed to consider this
argument as far more plausible than solid. Cal-
careous matter is no doubt found, on chemical
analysis, to a certain extent in some soils ; per-
haps some perceptible portion of it may be found
in every soil. But it is seldom or never found
in any soil to such an extent as to Be of much
use as a manure to other land. Even when the
soil is impregnated with a large portion of calca-
reous matter, if it is not in the form of limestone,
but minutely mixed with it, the burning cannot
either increase or much alter the lime. If it is
in the form of stones, however small, or in what
is called limestone gravel, there is little chance
of its being calcined in the operation of burning
the clay ; it would go through that ordeal unal-
tered. Any change, therefore, that can be
made upon the small portion of calcareous
matter in the soil, by burning in the manner di-
rected, can scarcely have any perceptible effect
when that matter is applied as manure to other
soils. And though it is possible that some qua-
lities in particular soils, unfavorable to vegeta-
tion, may be corrected by burning, and that in
some other instances the fire may render the clay
more nutritive to plants (though I have not been
able to trace this, or even to conjecture how it
can happen), yet I am much disposed to believe
that its effect as a mechanical mixture in opening
the pores of the soil is the chief improvement
that can be derived from the application of burnt
clay as a manure. If it has any other effect it
must be from the soot or carbonic matter collected
during the operation of burning; or perhaps it
may acquire by the torrefaction somewhat of a
stimulating quality, that may for a short time
promote the growth of particular plants. But
these qualities can only be to a small extent,
and continue to act for a very limited period.' —
Far. Mag. xxii. 422.
According to a writer in the Farmer's Journal
the action of burnt clay is at least three-fold,
and may be manifold. It opens the texture of
stubborn clays, gives a drain to the water, spira-
94
RURAL ECONOMY.
cles to the air, and affords to the roots facility of
penetrating. Clay ashes burned from turves,
containing an admixture of vegetable matter,
consist, in some small proportion, of vegetable
alkali, or potassa, a salt which is known to be a
good manure. It also, in most cases, happens,
that a stiff cold clay is impregnated with pyrites,
a compound of sulphuric acid and iron. Al-
though the chemical attraction between these two
bodies is so strong that it is one of the most dif-
ficult operations in the arts totally to free iron
from sulphur, yet a very moderate heat sublimes
a large portion of the sulphur. The iron is then
left at liberty to re-absorb a portion- of the redun-
dant sulphuric acid, which too generally is found
in these soils, and thereby sweetens the land ;
and it is probable that the bright red, or crimson
calx of iron, which gives coloring to the ashes
when over burnt, is beneficial to vegetation in
the present case, inasmuch as it is, of itself, one
of the happiest aids to fertility, as is exemplified
in the red marl strata, and red sand strata
throughout the kingdom. The evolution and re-
combination of different gases, no doubt, mate-
rially affect the question ; but it is reserved for
accurate chemical observers lo give us an account
of the processes which take place in this respect.
C'urwen notices that clay ashes do no benefit as
a top dressing on grass, which is in part to be
explained by reason that the ashes, when spread
on the surface of the grass, cannot exert the me-
chanical action on the soil in the ways enume-
rated. Neither can the calx of iron come so im-
mediately in contact with the particles of the soil,
for the producing of any chemical effect, as it
would do if the ashes were ploughed in. In
short, like many other manures which are laid on
the surface, unless it contains something soluble
which may be washed into the ground by rains,
it does very little good ; and the feeble propor-
tion of vegetable alkali is probably the only so-
luble matter the ashes contain. However san-
guine may be the admirers of burnt clay, all
experience confirms that the most beneficial clay-
ashes are those which are burnt from the greatest
proportion of rich old turf, ancient banks, roots
of bushes, and other vegetable matters; and I
conceive the value of mere powdered pottery
(for such it is) may easily be overrated. — Far.
Journ. 1819.
The common method of burning clay is thus
described by Mr. Loudon. An oblong enclosure,
of the dimensions of a small house (say fifteen
feet by ten), is made of green turf sods, raised
to the height of three and a half or four feet. In
the inside of this enclosure, air-pipes are drawn
diagonally, which communicate with holes left
at each corner of the exteriot wall. These pipes
are formed of sods put on edge, and the space
between these so wide only as another sod can
< ;i-ily cover. In each of the four spaces left be-
tween the air-pipes and the outer wall, a fire is
kindled with wood and dry turf, and then the
whole of the inside of the enclosure or kiln filled
\vith dry turf, which is very soon on fire ; and
on the top of that, when well kindled, is thrown
the clay, in small quantities at a time, and re-
peated as often as necessary, which must be re-
gulated by the intensity of the burning. The
air-pipes are of use only at first, because, if the
fire burns with tolerable keenness, the sods form-
in? the pipes will soon be reduced to ashes. The
pipe on the weather side of the kiln only is left
open, the mouths of the other three being stopped
up, and not opened, except the wind should veer
about. As the inside of the enclosure, or kiln,
begins to be filled up with clay, the outer wall
must be raised in height, always taking care to
have it at least fifteen inches higher than the top
of the clay, for the purpose of keeping the wind
from acting on the fire. When the fire burns
through the outer wall, which it often does, and
particularly when the top is overloaded with
clay, the breach must be stopped up immedi-
ately, which can only be effectually done by
building another sod wall from the foundation,
opposite to it, and the sods that formed that part
of the first wall are soon reduced to ashes. The
wall can be raised as high as may be convenient
to throw on the clay, and the kiln may be in-
creased to any size, by forming a new wall when
the previous one is burnt through. The princi-
pal art consists in having the outer wall made
quite close and impervious to the external air,
and taking care to have the top always lightlv,
but completely covered with clay ; because, 'if
the external air should come in contact with the
fire, either on the top of the kiln, or by means of
its bursting through the sides, the fire will be
very soon extinguished. In short, the kiln re-
quires to be attended to nearly as closely as char-
coal pits. Clay is much easier burnt than either
moss or loam ; — it does not undergo any altera-
tion in its shape, and on that account 'allows the
fire and smoke to get up easily between the
lumps ; whereas moss and loam, by crumbling
down, are very apt to smother the fire, unless care-
fully attended to. No rule can be laid down for
regulating the sine of the lumps of clay thrown
on the kiln, as that must depend on the state of
the fire ; but I have found every lump completely
burnt on opening the kiln ; and some of them
were thrown on larger than my head. Clay, no
doubt, burns more readily if it be dug up and
dried for a day or two before it be thrown on
the kiln ; but this operation is not necessary, as
it will burn though thrown on quite wet. After
a kiln is fairly set a going, no coal or wood, or
any sort of combustible is necessary, the wet
clay burning of itself, and it can only be extin-
gnished by intention, or the carelessness of the
operator, — the vicissitudes of the weather having
hardly any effect on the fire, if properly attended
to. It may, perhaps, be necessary to menti it
that, when the kiln is burning with great keen-
ness, a stranger to the operation may be apt to
think that the fire is extinguished. If, therefore,
any person, either through impatience, or too
great curiosity, should insist on looking into the
interior of the kiln, he will certainly retard, and
may possibly extinguish the fire ; for, as before
mentioned, the chief art consists in keeping out
the external air from the fire. Where there is
abundance of clay, and no great quantity of
green turf, it would perhaps be best to burn the
clay in draw-kilns the same as lime.
Colonel Dickson, at Ilexham, and other gentle-
men of Northumberland, instead of building a
RURAL ECONOMY.
95
kiln use gratings or arches of cast iron, to form
a vault or funnel for the fuel, and over this fun-
••nel the clay is built. The grated arches are
made about two feet and a half long, two feet
diameter, and about fourteen inches high. One
grating is to be filled with brushwood, stubble, or
any other cheap fuel, and the clay, as it is dug,
built upon it to a convenient height, leaving
small vacancies, or boring holes, to allow the
heat to penetrate to the middle and outer parts
of the clay. When a sufficient quantity is built
upon the first grating, another is added at either
or both ends, filled with similar fuel, and the
clay built upon them as before. This process
is continued until ten, twelve, or a greater
number of the gratings have been used, when
one end is built up or covered with clay, and
at the other, under the last grating, a fire is
made of coals or faggot wood. The end at
which the fire is made should face the wind if
possible, and if the process has been pro-
perly conducted the clay will be effectually
burnt. By commencing with a centre grating,
in the form of a cross, the workman may build
from four ends in the place of two ; this con-
trivance will afford a facility in the work, and
have a draft of wind at two entrances. The ad-
vantage of this mode of burning clay is the saving
of cartage, as the clay may be always burned
where it is dug.
Mr. Curwen has practised burning clay and
surface soil by lime without fuel (Farm. Mag. vol.
xvi. p. 1 1, 1 2), in the following manner : — Mounds
of seven yards in length, threT and a half in
breadth, are kindled with seventy-two Winches-
ter bushels of lime. First, a layer of dry sods
or parings, on which a quantity of lime is spread,
mixing sods with it ; then a covering of eight
inches of sods, on which the other half of the
lime is spread, and covereU a foot thick : the
height of the mound being about a yard. In
twenty-four hours it will take fire. The lime
should be immediately from the kiln. It is
better to suffer it to ignite itself, than to effect it
by operation of water. When the fire is fairly
kindled, fresh sods must be applied. Mr. Cur-
wen recommends obtaining a sufficient body of
ashes before any clay was put on the mounds.
The fire naturally rises to the top. It takes less
time, and does more work to draw down the
ashes from the top, and not to suffer it to rise
above six feet. The former practice of burning
in kilns was more expensive; did much less
work ; and, in many instances, calcined the
ashes, and rendered them of no value.
2. Of ridges. — The first thing is to consider
what grounds ought to be formed into ridges, and
what ought to be tilled with a flat surface. Dry
soils, which suffer by want of moisture, ought to
be tilled flat, to retain moisture. The method
for such tilling is to go round from the circum-
ference to the centre, or from the centre to the
circumference. This method is advantageous
in point of expedition, as the whole is finished
without once turning the plough. At the same
time, every inch of the soil is moved, instead of
leaving either the crown or the furrow unmoved,
as is commonly done in tilling ridges. Clay soil,
which suffers by water standing on it, ought to
be laid as dry as possible by proper ridges. A
loamy soil is the medium between these two. It
ought to be tilled flat in a dry country, especially
if it incline to the soil first mentioned. In a
moist country, it ought to be formed into ridges,
high or low according to the degree of moisture
and tendency to clay.
In grounds that require ridging, an error pre-
vails, that ridges cannot be raised too high. But
high ridges labor under several disadvantages.
The soil is heaped upon the crown, leaving the
furrows bare ; the crown is too dry, and the fur-
rows too wet; the crop, which is always best on
the crown, is more readily shaken with the wind,
than where the whole crop is of an equal height;
the half of the ridge is always covered from the
sun, a disadvantage which is far from being
slight in a cold climate. High ridges labor un-
der another disadvantage; in ground that has no
more level than barely sufficient to carry off
water, they sink the furrows below the level of
the ground ; and consequently retain water at
the end of every ridge. The furrows ought
never to be sunk below the level of the ground.
Water will more effectually be carried otf by
lessening the ridges both in height and breadth ;
a narrow ridge the crown of which is but eigh-
teen inches higher than the furrow, has a greater
slope than a very broad ridge where the differ-
ence is three or four feet.
In forming ridges, where the ground hangs
considerably, they may be too steep as well as
too horizontal ; and, if to the ridges be given all
the steepness of a field, a heavy shower may do
irreparable mischief. To prevent this the ridge*
ought to be so directed cross the field as to have
a gentle slope, for carrying off water slowly, and
no more. In that respect, a hanging field has
greatly the advantage of one that is nearly hori-
zontal ; because, in the latter, there is no oppor-
tunity of a choice in forming the ridges. A hill
is of all ground the best adapted for directing the
ridges properly. If the soil be gravelly, it may
be ploughed round and round, beginning at the
bottom and ascending gradually to the top in a
spiral line. This method of ploughing a hill,
requires no more force than ploughing on a level;
and removes the great inconvenience of a gravelly
hill, that rains go off too quickly ; for the rain is
retained in every furrow. If the soil be such as
to require ridges, they may be directed to any
slope that is proper.
To form a field into ridges, that has not been
formerly cultivated, the rules mentioned are
easily put in execution. After seeing the ad-
vantage of forming a field into ridges, people
were naturally led into an error, that the higher
the better. But the practice of making their
ridges crooked certainly did not originate from
design, but from the laziness of the driver suffer-
ing the cattle to turn, instead of making them
finish the ridge without turning. There is more
than one disadvantage in this slovenly practice.
First, the water is kept in by the curve at the
end of every ridge, and sours the ground. Se-
condly, as a plough has the least friction possi-
ble in a straight line, the friction must be
increased in a curve, the back part of the mould-
board pressing hard on the one hand, and the
96
RURAL ECONOMY.
coulter pressing hard on the other. Thirdly,
the plough moving in a straight line has the
greatest command in laying the earth over. But,
where the straight line of the plough is applied
to the curvature of a ridge to heighten it by
gathering, the earth moved by the plough is con-
tinually falling back, in spite of the most skilful
ploughman.
The inconveniences of ridges high and crook-
ed are so many that one would be tempted to
apply a remedy at any risk. Ancl yet, if the soil
be clay, it would not be advisable for a tenant to
apply the remedy upon a lease shorter than too
nineteen years. In a dry gravelly soil, the work
is not difficult or hazardous. When the ridges
are cleaved two or three years successively in the
course of cropping, the operation ought to be
concluded in one summer. The earth, by reite-
rated ploughings, should be accumulated upon
the furrows, so as to raise them higher than the
crowns ; they cannot be raised too high, for the
accumulated earth will subside by its own weight.
Cross ploughing, once or twice, will reduce the
ground to a flat surface, and give opportunity to
form ridges at will. The same method brings
down ridges in clay soil ; only let the work be
carried on with expedition ; because a hearty
shower, before the new ridges are formed, would
soak the ground in water, and make the farmer
suspend the work for the remainder of that year
at least. In a strong clay, the ridges should not
be altered, unless it can be done to perfection in
one season. On this subject Dr. Anderson has
said, ' The difficulty of performing this operation
properly with the common implements of hus-
bandry, and the obvious benefit that accrues to
the fanner from having his fields level, has pro-
duced many new inventions of ploughs, harrows,
drags, &c., calculated for speedily reducing the
fields to that state ; none of which have as yet
been found fully to answer the purpose for which
they were intended, as they all indiscriminately
carry the earth that was on the high places into
those that were lower; which, although it may,
in some cases, render the surface of the ground
tolerably smooth and level, is usually attended
with inconveniences far greater, for a considera-
ble length of time, than that which it was intend-
ed to remove. For experience sufficiently shows
that even the best vegetable mould, if buried for
any length of time so far beneath the surface as
to be deprived of the benign influences of the at-
mosphere, becomes an inert lifeless mass, little
fitted for nourishing vegetables ; and constitutes
a soil very improper for the purposes of the far-
mer. It therefore behoves him to preserve, on
every part of his fields, an equal covering of that
vegetable mould that has long been uppermost,
and rendered fertile by the meliorating influence
of the atmosphere. But if he suddenly levels
his high ridges, by any of these mechanical con-
trivances, he buries all the good mould that was
on the top of the ridges in the old furrows, by
which he greatly impoverishes one part of his
field, while he too much enriches another, and
he has the mortification frequently to see the one
half of his crop rotted by an over-luxuriance,
while other parts of it are weak and sickly, or
one part ripe and ready for reaping, while tin-
other is not propprly filled.
' On these accounts, if the farmer has not a
long lease, it will be in general much his inte-
rest to leave the ridges as he found them, rather
than to attempt to aker their direction ; and, if
he attends with due caution to moderate the
height of these ridges, he may reap very good
crops. But, where a man is secure of possessing
his ground for any length of time, the advan-
tages that he will reap from having level and
well laid out fields are so considerable as to be
worth purchasing, if it should even be at a
considerable expense. But the loss that is sus-
tained at the beginning by this mechanical mode
of levelling ridges, if they are of considerable
height, is so very great, that it is doubtful if any
future advantages can fully compensate it. I
would therefore advise that all this levelling
apparatus should be laid aside, and the follow-
ing more efficacious practice be substituted in
its stead : a practice that I have long followed
with success, and can safely recommend as the
very best that has yet come to my knowledge.
' If the ridges have been raised to a very great
height, as a preparation for the ensuing opera-
tions, they may be first cloven, or scalded out,
as it is called, that is, ploughed so as to lay the
earth on each ridge from the middle towards
the furrows ; but, if they are only of a moderate
degree of height, this operation may be omitted.
^ hen you mean to proceed to level the ground,
let a number of men be collected, with spades,
more or fewer as the nature of the ground requires,
and then set a plough to draw a furrow directly
across the ridges of the whole field intended to
be levelled. Divide this line into as many parts
as you have laborers, allotting to each one ridge
or two, more or less, according to their number,
height, and other circumstances. Let each of
the laborers, as soon as the plough has passed
that part assigned him, begin to dig in the bot-
tom of the furrow that the plough has just made,
about the middle of the side of the old ridge,
keeping his face towards the old furrow, work-
ing backwards till he comes to the height of the
ridge, and then turn towards the other furrow,
and repeat the same on the other side of the
ridge, always throwing the earth that he digs up
into the deep old furrow between the ridges
that is directly before him ; taking care not to
dig deep where he first begins, but to go deeper
and deeper as he advances to the height of the
ridge, so as to leave the bottom of the trench
he thus makes across the ridge entirely level,
or as nearly so as possible. And when he has
finished that part of the furrow allotted to him
that the plough has made in going, let him then
finish in the same manner his own portion of
the furrow that the plough makes in returning.
In this manner each man performs his own task
through the whole field, gradually raising the old
furrows as the old heights are depressed. And
if an attentive overseer is at hand, to see that
the whole is equally well done, and that each
furrow is raised to a greater height than the
middle of the old ridges, so as to allow for the
subsiding of that loose earth, the operation will
be entirely finished at once, and nevar again
need to be repeated.
' In performing this operation, it will alvvayt
be proper to make the ridges formed for tht
RURAL ECONOMY.
97
purpose of levelling, which go across the old
ridges, as broad as possible ; because the deep
trench that is thus made in each of the furrows
is an impediment in the future operations, as
well as the height that is accumulated in the
middle of each of these ridges ; so that the
fewer there are of these the better. The farmer,
therefore, will do well to advert to this, and
begin by forming a ridge by always turning the
plough to the right hand, till it becomes of such
breadth as makes it very inconvenient to turn
longer in that manner ; and then, at the distance
of twice the breadth of this new-formed ridge
from the middle of it, mark off a furrow for the
middle of another ridge, turning round it to the
right hand, till it becomes of the same breadth,
and then, turning to the left hand, plough out
the interval that was left between the two new-
formed ridges. By this mode of ploughing,
each ridge may be made of forty, or fifty, or sixty
yards in breadth, without any great inconve-
nience; for, although some time will be lost in
turning at the ends of these broad ridges, yet, as
this operation is only to be once performed in
this manner, the advantage that is reaped by having
few open furrows is more than sufficient to coun
terbalance it. To moderate the height that would
be formed in the middle of each of these grea4
ridges, it will be proper to mark out the ridges,
and draw the furrow that is to be the middle
of each some days before you collect your la-
borers to level the field, that you may, without
any hurry or loss of labor, clear out a good
trench through the middle of each of the old
ridges ; as the plough at this time, going and
returning nearly in the same track, prevents the
laborers from working properly without this
precaution. If these rules are attended to, your
field will be at once reduced to a proper level,
and the rich earth that formed the surface of the
old ridge be still kept upon the surface of your
neld ; so that the only loss that the possessor of
such ground can sustain by this operation is
merely the expense of performing it.'
Dr. Anderson afterwards makes a calculation
of the different expenses of levelling by the
plough and by the spade, in which he finds the^
latter by far the cheapest method. It should be
a rule, according to him, to direct the ridges
north and south if the ground will permit. In
this direction, the east and west sides of the
ridges, dividing the sun equally between them,
will ripen at the same time. It is a great ad-
vantage to form ridges so narrow and so low as
to admit the crowns and furrows to be changed
alternately every crop. The soil nearest the
surface is the best ; and, by such ploughing, it
is always kept near the surface, and never buried.
In high ridges the soil is accumulated at the
crown, and the furrows left bare. Such altera-
tion of crown and furrow is easy, where the
ridges are only seven or eight feet broad. This
mode of ploughing answers perfectly well in
sandy and gravelly soils, and even in loam ; but
it is not safe in clay^oil. In that soil the ridges
ought to be twelve feet wide, and twenty inches
high ; to be preserved always in the same form
by casting, that is, by ploughing two ridges to-
gether, beginning at the furrow that separates
VOL. XIX.
them, and plougning round and round till iki
two ridges be finished. By this method, the se-
parating furrow is raised a little higher than the
furrows that bound the two ridges. But at the
next ploughing that inequality is corrected, by be-
ginning at the bounding furrows, and going round
and round till the plough ing of the two ridges be
completed at the separating furrow.
For cleaning the ground of weeds, a cleaning
harrow is often used. It is drawn by a single
horse, directed by reins, which the man at the
opposite corner puts over his head, to have botli
hands free. In this corner is fixed a rope, with
which the man from time to time raises the har-
row from the ground, to let the weeds drop. For
the sake of expedition, the weeds ought to be
dropped in a straight line cross the field, whether
the harrow be full or not; and seldom is a field
so dirty but that the harrow may go thirty yards
before the teeth are filled. The weeds will be
thus laid in parallel rows, like those of hay raked
together for drying. A harrow may be drawn
swiftly along the rows, to shake out all the dust;
and then the weeds may be carried clean off the
field in carts. But, instead of burning them,
they may be converted into useful manure, by
laying them in a heap, with a mixture of hot
dung to begin fermentation. At first view, this
way of cleaning land will appear operose ; but
neither the labor nor expense is imrroderate
At any rate, these ought not to be grudged ; for,
if a field be once thoroughly cleaned, the seasons
must be very cross, or the farmer very indolent,
to make it necessary to renew the operation in
less than twenty years. In the worst seasons a
few years' pasture is always under command ;
which effectually destroys triennial plants, such
as thistles and couch-grass.
3. We may here offer a few remarks of a prac-
tical kind on soils : — i. Clay is in general the
stiffest of all soils, and contains an unctuous
quality. See CLAY. But, under the term clays,
earths of different sorts and colors are included.
One kind is so obstinate that scarcely any thing
will subdue it ; another is so hungry and poor
that it absorbs whatever is applied, and turns it
into its own quality. Some clays are fatter than
others, and the fattest are the best ; some are
more soft and slippery. But all of them retain
water poured on their surfaces, where it stagnates,
and chills the plants, without sinking into the
soil. The closeness of clay prevents the roots
and fibres of plants from spreading in search of
nourishment. The blue, the red, and the white
clay, if strong, are unfavorable to vegetation.
The stony and looser sort are less so ; but none
of them are worth any thing till their texture is
so loosened by a mixture of other substances, and
opened, as to admit the influence of the sun, the
air, and frost. Among the manures recommended
for clay, sand is of all others to be preferred :
and sea-sand the best of all, as it most effectually
breaks the cohesion. It is preferred, because it
is not formed wholly of small stones ; but con-
tains a great deal of calcareous matter, such as,
shells grated and broken to pieces by the tide ;
and al so salts. The smaller the sand is the
more easily it penetrates the clay ; but it abidps
less time in it than the larger The next best
II
98
RURAL ECONOMY.
sand is that washed down by rains on gravelly
soils. Those which are dry and light are the
worst. Small gritty gravel has also been recom-
mended by the best writers on agriculture, for
these soils ; and in many instances they have
answered the purpose. Shells, marie, ashes, and
all animal and vegetable substances, are very
good manures for clay ; but they have .een found
most beneficial when sand is mixed with th ••m.
Lime has been often used, but eminent agri-
culturists have found no advantage from it
singly, when applied to clays. The crops most
suitable for such lands are, wheat, beans, cab-
bages, and rye-grass. Clover seldom succeeds,
nor indeed any plants whose roots require depth,
and a wide spread in the earth.
ii. Chalk. — Chalky soils are generally dry
and warm, and, if there be a tolerable depth of
mould, fruitful ; producing great crops of barley,
rye, peas, vetches, clover, trefoil, burnet, and
particularly sainfoin. The latter plant flourishes
in a chalky soil better than any other. . But, if
the surface of mould be very thin, this soil re-
quires good manuring with clay, marl, loam, or
dung. As these lands are dry, they may be sown
earL'er than others. When barley is three inches
high, throw in 10 Ibs. of clover, 15 Ibs. of trefoil,
and roll it well. The next summer mow the
crop for hay; feed off the aftermath with sheep;
and in winter give it a top-dressing of dung.
This will produce a crop the second spring,
which should be cut for hay. As soon as this
crop is carried off plough up the land, and in
the beginning of September sow three bushels of
rye per acre, either to feed off with sheep in the
spring or to stand for harvest. If you feed it off,
sow winter vetches in August or September,
and make them into hay the following summer.
Then get the land into as fine tilth as possible,
and sow it with sainfoin, which, wi*H a little ma-
nure once in two or three years, wi remain and
produce good crops for twenty yea : s together.
lii. Light poor land seldom produces good
crops of any thing, till well manured. After it
is well ploughed, sow three bushels of buck
wheat per acre, in April or May, When in
bloom, let the cattle in a few days eat off the best,
and tread the other down ; this done, plough in
what remains immediately. This will soon fer-
ment and rot ; then lay it fine, and sow three
bushels of rye per acre. If this can be got off
early enough, sow turnips , if not, winter vetches
to cut for hay. Then get it in good tilth and
sow turnip-rooted cabbages, in rows three feet
apart. This plant seldom fails, if it has sufficient
room, and the intervals are well horse-hoed ; and
it is the best spring feed for sheep when turnips
are over. The horse-hoeing will clean and pre-
pare the land for sainfoin, for the sowing of
which April is the best season. The usual way
is to sow it broad-cast, four bushels to an acre ;
but experienced husbandmen prefer sowing it in
drills two feet asunder ; for then it may be horse-
hoed, and half the seed will be sufficient. The
hone-hoeing will also earth up the plants, and
render them more luxuriant and lasting. If you
sow it broad-cast, give it a top-dressing m De-
. v» r or January of rotten dung or as!.
IT of both mixed up in comport. From
various trials, it is found that taking only one
crop in a year, and feeding the after-growth, is
better than to mow it twice. Cut it as soon as it
is in full bloom, if the weather will permit The
hay will be the sweeter, and the strength of the
plants less impaired, than if it stands till the seed
is formed.
iv. Light rich land, being the most easy to»
cultivate to advantage, and capable of bearing
most kinds of grain, pulse, and herbage, little
need be said upon it. Such lands are the best
adapted to the drill husbandry, especially where
machines are used, which require shallow fur-
rows to be made for the seed. This, if no*,
prone to couch-grass, is the best of all soiis
for lucerne ; which, if sown in two feet drills,
and kept clean, will yield an astonishing quantity
of the most excellent herbage. But lucerne will
never be cultivated to advantage where couch-
grass and weeds abound ; nor in the broad-cast
method, even where they do not ; because horse-
hoeing is essential to the vigorous growth of this
plant.
v. Coarse rough land. — Plough deep in au-
tumn ; when it has lain two weeks, cross plougn
it, and let it lie rough through the winter. In
March give it another good ploughing ; drag,
rake, and harrow it well to get out the rubbish,
and sow four bushels of black oats per acre if
the soil be wet, and white oats if dry. When
about four inches high, roll them well after a
shower ; this will break the clods ; and the fine
mould, falling among the roots of the plants, will
promote their growth greatly. Some sow clover
and rye grass among the oats, but this is bad
husbandry. If designed for clover, sow it singly,
and let a coat of dung be laid on it in Decem-
ber. The snow and rain will then dilute its salts
and oil, and carry them down among the roots of
the plants. This is better than mixing the crops
on such land ; for the oats will exhaust the soil
so much that the clover will be impoverished.
The following summer you will have a good crop
of clover, which cut once, and feed the after-
growth. In the winter plough it in, and let it
lie till February ; then plough and harrow it
»ell ; and in March, if the soil be moist, plant
beans in drills of three feet, to admit the horse-
hoe freely. When you horse-hoe them a second
time, sow a row of turnips in each interval, and
they will succeed well. But, if the land be
strong enough for sowing wheat as soon as the
beans are off, the turnips may be omitted.
4. Of ploughing. — No operation of agricul-
ture is of more importance than ploughing :
and, as the Essex Report on Agriculture here
observes, ' there is scarcely a circumstance in
agriculture more surprising, after so general at-
tention has been paid to it, than the extreme
uncertainty in which the true structure of the
plough yet remains. That variations for differ-
ent soils and circumstances must and ought to
occur is admitted ; but one plough for one spe-
cific object might have been produced, its supe-
riority to others ascertained^ and the principles
in its construction, on which such merit de-
pended, fully developed, and laid down in ac-
curate drawings ; yet this has not been done :
the only approximation to it is, it is contended,
RURAL ECONOMY
99
in a paper by the late Mr. Arbuthnot, which the
writer published nearly forty years ago in his
' Eastern Tour.' Farming mechanics, it is sup-
posed, look to the Board of Agriculture for sup-
plying this great deficiency, which can be sup-
plied only by a series of experiments, demanding
a considerable expense, and more attention.'
But more of the construction of particular
ploughs hereafter. We only need add here that
•wheels added to ploughs have, in the estimation
of many good farmers, been only an apology for
want of skill in the ploughman. Yet they often
afford much assistance, by enabling him to exe-
cute the work with greater regularity in the
depth, and more evenness in the surface. From
the nature of the machinery with which they are
loaded, however, they are evidently more expen-
sive in their construction, more liable to be put
out of order, ;>nd from the friction that is thus
produced require more strength in the teams
that are employed in drawing them. Besides,
they have the disadvantage of being more apt to
be put out of order in their course, by the occur-
rence of stones, clods, and other surface ine-
qualities, than those of the common kind. A
further inconvenience attending these ploughs is
noticed by lord Somerville in the Communica-
tions to the Board of Agriculture, which is, that
with wheel-ploughs workmen are apt to set the
points of their shares too low, so as by their in-
clined direction to occasion a heavy pressure on
the wheel, which must proceed horizontally. He
conceives the effect of this struggle to be an in-
creased weight of draught infinitely beyond what
could be imagined, on which account he thinks
that the wheel is to be considered as of no con-
sequence in setting a plough for work ; but that
passing lightly over the surface it will be of
material use in breaking old lays, or lands where
flints, rocks, or the roots of trees are present,
and in correcting the depression of the share
from any sudden obstruction, as also in bringing
it quickly into work again, when thrown out
towards the surface. It is however believed on
the whole, by the writer of the Middlesex Re-
port, that in comparing two extensive districts,
one of which is managed with wheel-ploughs,
and the other with those of the swing kind,
taking ever description of ploughmen that are
met with in them, the wheel-ploughs will be
found to have the advantage in point of neat-
ness of work. See PLATES OF 1'ioucns.
But the great weight of the carriage parts for
the wheels, and the time and trouble which they
require in adjusting and fixing them, are great
objections to the use of this sort of plough in
most cases, and particularly for the general pur-
poses of husbandry. Therefore, in the forming
of all sorts of ploughs, the less they are encum-
bered with machinery of the wheel or other
kinds, the more useful they will probably be
found.
Holding the plough in a proper position, and
properly directing the horses or cattle which
draw it, are only to be acquired by experience :
it scarcely need be added, that the art of draw-
ing a straight furrow with a plough in which
the horses are yoked in pairs, consists in
keeping each of the horses a small distance
apart, so as to see forward between them ; and
next to fix the eye on some object or objects
over the land, and keep tltese objects and the
coulter or muzzle of the plough in one line. By
far the best practical directions for ploughing,
as Mr. Loudon thinks, are thus given in the Sup-
plement to the Encyclopaedia Britannica, by Mr.
C leghorn.
' Three different points require particular at-
tention in ploughing : 1 . The breadth of the
slice to be cut; 2. its depth; and 3. the degree
in which it is to be turned over ; — which last
circumstance depends both upon the construc-
tion of the plough, particularly the mould-board,
and the care of the ploughman.
' The breadth and depth of the furrow-slice
are regulated by judiciously placing the draught
on the nozzle or bridle of the plough ; setting it
so as to go more or less deep, and to take more
or less land or breadth of slice, according as
may be desired. In general, the plough is so
regulated that, if left to itself, and merely kept
from falling over, it would cut a little broader
and a little deeper than is required. The coul-
ter is also placed with some inclination towards
the left or land side, and the point of the sock
or share has a slight tendency downwards. The
degree to which the furrow-slice turns over is
in a great measure determined by the pro-
portion between its breadth and depth, whic:i
for general purposes is usually as three is to
two; or, when the furrow is nine inches broad,
it ought to be six inches in depth. When the
slice is cut in this proportion, it will be nearly
half turned over, or recline at an angle of forty
or forty-five degrees ; and a field so ploughed
will have its ridges longitudinally ribbed int .
angular drills or ridgelets. But if the slice is
much broader, in proportion to its depth, it
will be almost completely overturned, or left
nearly flat with its original surface downwards ;
and each successive slice will be somewhat over-
lapped by that which was turned over before it.
And, finally, when the depth materially exceeds
the width, each furrow slice will fall over on its
side, leaving all the original surface bare, and
only laid somewhat obliquely to the horizon.
' Ploughing with the breadth and depth nearly
in the proportion of three to two is best adapted
for laying up stubble land after harvest, when
it is to remain during winter exposed to the mel-
lowing influence of frost, preparatory to fallow
or turnips. The shallow furrow of considerable
width, as five inches in depth by eight or nine
wide, is understood to answer best for breaking
up old leys ; because it covers up thp grass turf,
and does not bury the manured soil. Ploughing
with the depth of the furrow considerably ex-
ceeding the width is a most unprofitable and
uselessly slow operation, which ought seldom or
never to be adopted. The most generally useful
breadth of a furrow-slice is from eight to ten
inches, and the depth, which ought to be seldom
less than four inches, cannot often exceed six or
eight inches, except in soils uncommonly thick
and fertile. When it is necessary to go deeper,
as for carrots and some other deep-rooted plants
a trench ploughing may be given by means of a
second plough following in the same furrow
H 1
100
RURAL ECONOMY.
Shallow ploughing ought always to be adopted
after turnips are eaten on the ground, that the
manure may not be buried too deep ; and also
in covering lime, — especially" if the ground has
been pulverised by fallowing, because it natu-
rally tends to sink in the soil. In ploughing
down farm-yard dung, it is commonly necessary
to go rather deep, that no part of the manure
may be left exposed to the atmosphere. In the
first ploughing, for fallows or green crops, it is
advisable to work as deep as possible, and no
great danger is to be apprehended, though a
small portion of the subsoil be at that time
brought to the surface. The furrow-slices are
generally distributed into beds varying in breadth
according to circumstances ; these are called
ridges or lands, and are divided from one ano-
ther by gutters or open furrows. These last
serve as guides to the hand and eye of the sower
to the reapers, and also for the application of
manures in a regular manner. In soils of a
strong or retentive nature, or which have wet
close subsoils, these furrows serve likewise as
drains for carrying off the surface water, and
being cleared out, after the land is sown and
harrowed, have the name of water furrows.
' Ridges are not only different in breadth, but
are raised more or less in the middle, on different
soils. On clayey retentive soils, the great point
to be attended to is the discharge of superflu-
ous water. But narrow ridges or stitches, of
from three to five feet, are not approved of
in some of the best cultivated counties. In
these a breadth of fifteen or eighteen feet, the
land raised by two gatherings of the plough, is
most commonly adopted for such soils ; such
ridges being thought more convenient for ma-
nuring, sowing, harrowing, and reaping than
narrower ones ; and the water is drained off quite
as effectually. Ridges on dry porous turnip soils
may be formed much broader ; and, were it not
for their use in directing the laborers, may be,
and sometimes are, dispensed with altogether.
They are often thirty, or thirty-six feet broad,
which in Scotland are called band-win ridges,
because reaped by a band of shearers, commonly
six, served by one binder. If it be wished to
obliterate the intermediate furrows, this may be
done by casting up a narrow ridglet or single
bout-drill between the broad ridges, which is
afterwards levelled by the harrows.
The mode of forming ridges straight and of
uniform breadth is as follows : — Let us suppose
a field perfectly level that is intended to be laid
off into ridges of any determinate breadth. The
best ploughman belonging to the farm conducts
the operation, with the aid of three or more
poles shod with iron, in the following manner : —
The first thing is to mark off the head ridges, on
which the horses turn in ploughing, which
should in general be of an equal breadth from
the bounding lines of the field, if these lines
are not very crooked or irregular. The next
operation, assuming one straight side of the
field, or a line that has l>een made straight, as
the proper direction of the ridges, is to measure
off from it w ith one of the poles (all of them of
a certain length, or expressing specific measures),
l.aif the intende I breadth of tlie ridge, if it is to
be gathered, or one breadth and a half if to be
ploughed flat ; and there the ploughman sets up
a pole as a direction for the plough to enter.
On a line with this, and at some distance, he
plants a second pole, and then in the same man-
ner a third, fourth, &c., as the irregularity cf
the surface may render necessary, though three
must always be employed, the last of them at
the end of the intended ridge, and the whole in
one straight line. lie then enters the plough at
the first pole, keeping the line of poles exactly
between his horses, and ploughs down all the
poles successively ; halting his horses at each,
and replacing it at so many feet distant as the
ridges are to be broad ; so that, when he reaches
the end of the ridge, all his poles are a^ain set
up in a new line parallel to the first. He re-
turns, however, along his former track, correct-
ing any deviations, and throwing a shallow fur-
row on the side opposite to his former one.
These furrows, when reversed, form the crown
of the ridge, and direct the ploughmen who are
to follow. ' The same operations are carried on
until the whole field is marked out. This is
called feiring in Scotland, and striking the fur-
rows in England. It is surprising with what
accuracy these lines are drawn by skilful plough-
men. Another method has been adopted for the
same purpose, which promises to be useful
with less experienced workmen. A stout lath
or pole, exactly equal in length to the breadth of
the intended ridge, is fixed to the plough at right
angles to the line of the draught, one end of which
is placed across the handles exactly opposite the
coulter, while the other end projects towards
the left hand of the ploughman, and is preserved
in its place by a rope passing from it to the col-
lar of the near-side horse. At the outer end of
the lath a coulter or harrow tine is fixed perpen-
dicularly, which makes a trace or mark on the
ground, as the plough moves onwards, exactly
parallel to the line of draught. By this device,
when the plough is feiring the crown of uu-
ridge, the market traces the line on which the
next ridge is to be feired. — General Report <y'
Scotland, vol. i. p. 354.
The direction and length of ridges are points
which must evidently be regulated by the nature
of the surface, and the size of the field. Short
angular ridges, called butts, which are often ne-
cessary in a field with irregular boundaries, are
always attended with a considerable loss of time,
and ought to be avoided as much as possible.
In ploughing steep land it is thought advisable
to give the ridges an inclination towards the
right hand at the top, by which, in going up the
acclivity, the furrow falls more readily from the
plongh, and with less fatigue to the ho
Another advantage of forming ridges in a slant-
ing direction, on such lands, is that the soil is
not so apt to be washed down from the higher
ground, as if the ridges were laid at right angles.
Wherever circumstances will permit, the best
direction, however, is due north and south, by
which the grain on both sides of the rid^e en-
joys nearly equal advantages from the influence
of the sun.
' Land thus formed into ridges,' says Mr.
Loudon, is afterwards cultivated without it, «rk-
RURAL ECONOMY.
101
ing out the ridges anew, until the inter-furrows
liave been obliterated by a fallow or fallow crop.
This is done by one or other of the following
modes of ploughing. 1 . If the soil be dry, and
the land has been ploughed flat, the ridges are
split out in such a way that the space which the
crown of the old ridge occupied is now allotted
to the open furrow between the new ones. This
is technically called crown and furrow plough-
ing. 2. When the soil is naturally rather wet,
or, if the ridges have been raised a little by
former ploughings, the form of the old ridges,
and the situation of the inter-furrows, are pre-
served by what is called casting, that is, the
furrows of each ridce are all laid in one direc-
tion, while those of the next adjoining ridges
are turned the contrary way ; two ridges being
always ploughed together. 3. It is commonly
necessary to raise the ridges, on soils very tena-
cious of moisture, by what is called gathering,
which is done by the plough going round the
ridge, beginning at the crown, and raising all the
furrow slices inwards. 4. This last operation,
when it is wished to give the land a level sur-
face, as in fallowing, is reversed by turning all
the furrow-slices outwards ; beginning at the
inter-furrows, and leaving an open furrow on the
crown of each ridge. In order to bring the land
into as level a state as possible, the same mode
of ploughing, or cleaning, as it is called, may
be repeated as often as necessary. With respect
to ploughing relatively to time, in the strongest
lands, a pair of good horses ought to plough
three-quarters of an acre in nine hours ; but upon
the same land, after the first ploughing, on fria-
ble soils, one acre or an acre and a quarter is a
common day's work. Throughout the year, an
acre a day may be considered as a full average
on soils of a medium consistency. The whole
series of furrows on an English statute acre,
supposing each to be nine inches broad, would
extend to 19,360 yards; and adding twelve yards
to every 220, for the ground travelled over in
turning, the whole work of one acre may be
estimated as extending to 20,41 6 yards, or eleven
miles and nearly five furlongs.
' In ploughing relatively to season, it is well
known that clayey or tenacious soils should
never be ploughed when wet ; and that it is
almost equally improper to allow them to become
too dry, especially if a crop is to be sown with-
out a second ploughing. The state in which
such lands should be ploughed is that which is
commonly indicated by the phrase, ' between
the wet and the dry,' — while the ground is
slightly moist, mellow, and the least cohesive.
The season best for ploughing the first time, for
fallow or green crops, is immediately after har-
vest, or after wheat sowing is finished ; and,
when this land has been gone over, the old tough
swards, if there be any, are next turned up.
The reasons for ploughing so early are sufficiently
obvious ; as the frosts of winter render the soil
more friable for the spring operations, and assist
in destroying the weed roots. In some places,
however, the first ploughing for fallow is still
delayed till after the spring seed-time.'
The cultivator, grubber, scuffler, scarifier, &c.,
are used to lessen the number of ploughings in
fallows or light free soils. Their operation differs
from that of the plough in not reversing the
surface, and therefore they can never, as some
suppose, become a substitute for that implement.
Still the grubber is recommended by good
judges as a valuable implement. Lester of
Northampton, who is said first to have invented
an implement of this kind, declares himself
confident that one man, a boy, and six horses,
will move as much land in a day, and as effectu-
ally, as six ploughs : meaning land in a fallow
state that has been previously ploughed. And
this may allow us to introduce the important
question
5. Of Fallowing. — ' The vague ancient opi-
nion of the use of nitre, and of nitrous salts in
vegetation,' says Sir Humphrey Davy, ' seems to
have been one of the principal speculative rea-
sons for the defence of summer fallows. Ni-
trous salts are produced during the exposure of
soils containing vegetable and animal remains,
and in greatest abundance in Lot weather; but it
is probably by the combination of the azote
from these remains with oxygen in the atmo-
sphere that the acid is formed ; and at the ex-
pense of an element which otherwise would
have formed ammonia; the compounds of which
are much more efficacious than the nitrons com-
pounds in assisting vegetation. Mr. Loudon
observes ' that this reason is, however, more
speculative than experimental, and seems influ-
enced by the opinion adopted by the author,
that fallows are of little use in husbandry. . One
obvious advantage of aeration in summer, or a
summer fallow,' he says, ' is, that the soil may
thus be heated by the sun to a degr.ee which it
never could be, if partially covered with the
foliage of even the widest drilled crops. For
this purpose, if the soil is laid up in large
lumps, it is evident it will receive more heat by
exposing a greater surface to the atmosphere,
and it will retain this heat longer than can he
expected, from the circumstance of the lumps
reflecting back the rays of heat radiated l>y each
other.' A clayey soil in this way (Farmer's
Magazine, 1815) may be heated to 120°, which
may in some degree alter its absorbent powers
as to water, and contribute materially to the
destruction of vegetable fibre, insects, and their
eggs. By the aeration of lands, in winter, mi-
nute mechanical division is obtained by the
freezing of the water in the <(soil ; for, as water
in the solid state occupies more space than
when fluid, the particles of earthy matters and of
decomposing stones are thus rent asunder, and
crumble down in a fine mould. Rough stony
soils will thus receive an accession to their finer
soil every winter.
' Agricultural experience,' adds our author,
*' has fully proved that fallows are the only
means by which stiff clays- in moist climates
can be effectually cleared of weeds. Supposing
therefore that no other advantage whatever was
obtained, that no nutritive matter was imbibed
from the atmosphere, and the soil was neither
chemically nor mechanically benefited by aera-
tion, this benefit alone, the effectual eradication
of weeds, is sufficient to justify the use of fallows
on such soils Many of the objections to fal-
102
RURAL ECONOMY.
lows have arisen in consequence of the parties
not previously agreeing as to what a summer
fallow is. In England generally, or at least
formerly, a fallow was a portion of land left a
year without culture or cropping : unless being
once or twice ploughed can be denominated the
former, and an abundant growth of coarse
grasses and weeds can constitute the latter.
The jacheres of the French are the same thing.
In Scotland and the best cultivated districts a
summer fallow is a portion of land which is
begun to be cultivated after the crop is removed
in autumn, and is frequently, as need requires,
ploughed, harrowed, and otherwise comminuted,
and freed from stones, weeds, inequalities, &c.,
till the autumnal seed-time of the following
year : it is thus for twelve months in a state of
constant tillage and movement. The result is
that the land is thoroughly freed from roots of
weeds ; from many seeds of weeds, which are
thus made to germinate and are then destroyed ;
and from many eggs of insects which are thus
hatched, but, being without plants to nourish
them in their larva state, speedily die. The
land is also thoroughly pulverised, and the top,
bottom, and middle, mixed together ; stones are
picked out ; inequalities unfavorable to surface
drainage removed or lessened, and various other
useful objects attained. Such a fallow can no
more be compared with what usually passes
under that name than the plough of Virgil with
that of Small.'
East Lothian stands, we believe, at the head
of the Scottish counties for excellent farming :
and here fallowing, introduced at the beginning
of the last century, seems to be practised in its
greatest perfection. The sixth earl of Hadding-
ton, we are told, was the first proprietor, and
John Walker, of Beanston, near Dunbar, the
first fanner upon this principle. lie took the
hint from some English travellers, while they
spent a night at his house, and with whom he
had conversation upon the subject, so much to
his satisfaction that he made an experiment
upon six acres the following summer, which he
carried through in spite of the animadversions of
his neighbours, who were divided in their opi-
nions as to the sanity of his mind, or the sta-
bility of his circumstances. The result of the
experiment gave them a better opinion of both,
and the return was so abundant as to induce
him to extend his next year's fallow break to
twenty acres ; soon after which the practice began
to spread', and, so early as the year 1724, fallow-
ing upon all the deep strong soils was common
throughout the county, and has continued to be
so ever since. The practice of the county is
thus described in the General Report of Scot-
land, vol. i. p. 419,
' Invariably, after harvest, the land intended
for being summer fallowed in the ensuing year
gets an end-long ploughing, which ought to be
as deep as the soil will admit, even though a
little of the till or subsoil is brought up. This
both tends to deepen the cultivated or manured
soil, as the fresh accession of hitherto unculti-
vated earth becomes afterwards incorporated with
the former manured soil, and greatly facilitates
the separation of the roots of weeds during the
ensuing fallow process, by detaching them com-
pletely from any connexion with the fast sub-
soil. This autumnal ploughing, usually called
the winter furrow, promotes the rotting of stub-
ble and weeds; and, if not accomplished to-
wards the end of harvest, must be given in the
winter months, or as early in the spring as pos-
sible. In giving this first ploughing, the old
ridges should be gathered up, if practicable, as
in that state they are kept dry during the winter
months ; but it is not uncommon to split them
out or divide them, especially if the land had
been previously highly gathered, so that each
original ridge of land is divided into two half
ridges. Sometimes, when the land is easily laid
dry, the furrows of the old ridges are made the
crowns of the new ones, or the land is ploughed
in the way technically called crown-and-fur.
In other instances two ridges are ploughed toge-
ther, by what is called casting, which has been
already described. After the field is ploughed,
all the inter-furrows, and those of the head-
lands, are carefully opened up by the plough,
and are afterwards gone over effectually by a
laborer with a spade, to remove all obstructions,
and to open up the water furrows into the fence
ditches, wherever that seems necessary, that all
moisture may have a ready exit. In every place
where water is expected to lodge, such as ditches
or hollow places in the field, cross or oblique
furrows are drawn by the plough, and their in-
tersections carefully opened into each other by
the spade. Wherever it appears necessary,
cross cuts are also made through the head ridges
into the ditches with a spade, and every possible
attention is exerted, that no water may stagnate
in any part of the field.
' As soon as the spring seed-time is over the
fallow land is again ploughed end-long. If for-
merly split, it is now ridged up ; if formerly
laid up in gathered ridges, it is split or cloven
down. It is then cross-ploughed ; and, after
lying till sufficiently dry to admit the harrows,
it is harrowed and rolled repeatedly, and every
particle of the vivacious roots of weeds brought
up to view, carefully gathered by hand into
heaps, and either burnt on the field or carted off
to the compost midden. The fallow is then
ridged up, which places it in a safe condition in
the event of bad weather, and exposes a new
surface to the harrows and roller; after whi<*h
the weeds are again gathered by hand, but a pre-
vious harrowing is necessary. It is afterwards
ploughed, harrowed, rolled, and gathered as
often as may be necessary to reduce it into fine
tilth, and completely to eradicate all root weeds.
Between these successive operations, repeated
crops of seedling weeds are brought into vege-
tation and destroyed. The larvae likewise of
various insects, together with an infinite variety
of the seeds of weeds, are exposed to be de-
voured by birds, which are then the farmer's best
friends, though often proscribed as his bitterest
enemies. Some writers on husbandry have con-
demned the use of the harrow and roller in the
fallow process, alleging that frequent ploughing
is all that is necessary to destroy root-weeds, i>y
the bating or drying of the c.lods in the sun and
wind l'iit experience has ascertained that fir-
RURAL ECONOMY.
103
qucnlly turning over the ground, though abso-
lutely necessary while the fallow process is going
on, can never eradicate couch-grass or other
root-weeds. In all clay soils, the ground turns
up in lumps or clods, which the severest drought
will not penetrate so sufficiently as to kill the
included roots. When the land Is again plough-
ed, these lumps are simply turned over and no
more, and the action of the plough serves in no
degree to reduce them, or at least very imper-
ceptibly. It may be added that these lumps
likewise enclose innumerable seeds of weeds,
which cannot vegetate unless brought under the
influence of the sun and air near the surface.
The diligent use, therefore, of the harrow and
roller, followed by careful hand-picking, is indis-
pensably necessary to the perfection of the fallow
process.'
' When employed to reduce a strong obdurate
soil, not more than two of the common sort of
harrows should be yoked together, because they
are apt to ride and tumble upon each other, and
thus impede the work. It may also be remarked
that on rough soils harrows ought to be driven
as fast as the horses can walk ; because their
effect is in direct proportion to the degree of
velocity with which they are driven : and the
harrow-man's attention should be constantly
directed to prevent these implements from riding
upon each other, and to keep them clear of every
impediment, from stones, lumps of earth, clods,
and grass roots. In ordinary cases, and in every
case where harrowing is meant for covering the
seed, and the common implement in use, three
harrows are the best yoke, because they fill up
the ground more effectually than when a smaller
number is employed ; some of the improved
forms, calculated to cover the breadth of two
or more of the old harrows by one frame, are
only fit for flat ridges ; or for working dry lands
in which ridging is not requisite.
6. Of the usual crops. — The preceding part
of this treatise is all preparatory to the capital
object of a farm, that of raising plants for the
nourishment of man and other animals. These
(see AGRICULTURE, par. 84) are of two kinds ;
culmiferous and leguminous ; differing widely
from each other. Wheat, rye, barley, oats,
rye-grass, are of the first kind ; of the other kind
are peas, beans, clover, cabbage, and many
others. The propagation of plants is naturally
divided into three subdivisions : — 1st. Plants
cultivated for fruit; 2d. Plants cultivated for
roots ; 3d. Plants cultivated for leaves.
SECT. I. — PLANTS CULTIVATED FOR FRUIT.
1. WHEAT takes the lead among plants cul-
tivated for fruit. A sandy soil is thought too
loose ; the only chance for a crop is after red
clover, say some writers, the roots of which bind
the soil. Rye is a crop much fitter for sandy
soil than wheat; and like wheat is generally
sown after a summer-fallow. Sow wheat as
soon as the ground is ready. When sown too
early, however, it is too forward in spring, and
apt to be hurt by frost; when sown a month too
late, it has not time to root before frost comes
on, and frost spews it out of the ground. The
greater part of the wheat crop throughout Britain
is probably sown upon fallowed land. ' When
it succeeds turnips consumed on the ground, or
clover cut for hay or soiling, it is commonly
sown after one ploughing ; but upon heavier
soils, or after grass of two or more years, the land
is ploughed twice or three times.'
Setting of wheat, or dibbling, is a method
which is reckoned one of the greatest improve-
ments in husbandry that was made during the
last century. It seems to have been first sug-
gested by planting grains in a garden from cu-
riosity, by persons who had no opportunity of
extending it to a lucrative purpose. Nor was
it attempted on a larger scale, till a farmer
near Norwich began it upon less than an acre of
land. For two or three years only a few followed
his example ; and these were generally the butt
of their neighbours. They had, however, consi-
derably better corn and larger crops, which, to-
gether with the saving of seed, engaged more to
follow them. Experiment established the prac-
tice, and was the means of introducing it gene-
rally among the intelligent farmers of a very
large district.
The lands on which this method was found
particularly prosperous were either after a clover
stubble, or on which ti efoil and grass-seed were
sown the preceding year. These grounds, after
the usual manuring, were once turned over by
the plough in an extended flag or turf, at ten
inches wide ; along which a man, called a
dibbler, with two setting-irons somewhat bigger
than ram-rods, but considerably bigger at the
lower end, and pointed at the extremity, walked
backwards along the turf and made the holes
about four inches asunder every way, and one
deep. Into these holes the droppers (women,
boys and girls) dropped two grains, which is
quite sufficient. After this a gate, bushed with
thorns, was drawn by one horse over the land,
and closed the holes. By this mode, three pecks
of grain are sufficient for an acre; and, being im-
mediately buried, it is equally removed from
vermin or the power of frost. The regularity of
its rising gives the best opportunity of keeping
it clear from weeds, by weeding or hand-hoeing.
Sir Thomas Beevor of Hethel-Hall, in Norfolk,
soon found the produce to be two bushels per
acre more than from the wheat which is sown ;
and, having much less small corn intermixed with
it, the sample was better, and always fetched a
higher price. This method, too, saves to the
farmer and to the public many pecks of seed-
wheat.
In light lands a very dry time prevents
dibbling, as the holes made with the instruments
will be filled up again with the mould as fast as
the instrument is withdrawn. So, again, in a
very wet season, on strong and stiff clays, the
seeds in the holes cannot be properly covered by
the bushes drawn over them. But these extremes
of dry and wet do not often happen, nor do they
affect lands of a moderately consistent texture,
or both light and heavy soils at the same time,
so that the general practice is in fact never great-
ly impeded by them.
In the Philosophical Transactions for 1768
we meet with an extraordinary experiment for
propagating wheat, of which the following is an
abstract:— On the 2d of June, 1766, Mr. C.
Miller (son of the celebrated gardener of this
104
RURAL ECONOMY.
name) sowed some grains of the common red
wheat ; and on the 8th of August, a single plant
was taken up and separated into eighteen parts,
and each part planted separately. These plants
having pushed out several side-shoots, about the
middle of September, some of them were taken
up and divided, and the rest between that time
and the middle of October. This second division
produced sixty-seven plants. These plants re-
mained through the winter, and another division
of them, made between the middle of March and
the 12th of April, produced 500 plants. They
were then divided no further, but permitted to
remain. The plants were in general stronger
than any of the wheat in the fields. Some of
them produced upwards of 100 ears from a single
root. Many of the ears measured seven inches
in length, and contained between sixty and se-
venty grains. The whole number of ears which,
by the process abovementioned, were produced
from one grain of wheat, was 21,109, which
yielded three pecks and three quarters of clear
corn, the weight of which was forty-seven pounds
seven ounces ; and, from a calculation made by
counting the number of grains in an ounce, the
whole number of grains was about 576,840.
There was only one general division of the
plants made in the spring. Had a second been
made, Mr. Miller thinks, the number of plants
would have amounted to 2000. The ground
was a light blackish soil, upon a gravelly bottom ;
and consequently a bad soil for wheat. One
half of the ground was well dunged, the other
half had no manure. There was, however, no
difference discoverable in the vigor or growth of
the plants. It is evident that the expense and
labor of setting in the above manner by the
hand, will render it impracticable upon a large
scale.
A correspondent of the Bath Society, there-
fore (Robert Bogle, esq.), to extend the practice,
proposed the use of the harrow and roller until
some better implements be invented. This
method occurred to him from attending to the
practice usual with farmers, of harrowing their
fields after the grain is sprung up. Upon inves-
tigating the principles upon which these practices
are founded, they said, ' that after very heavy
rains, and then excessive dry weather, the surface
• f their lands was apt to be caked, the tender
fibres of the young roots were thereby prevented
from pushing, and of course the vegetation was
greatly obstructed ; in such instances they found
very great benefit from harrowing and rolling.'
This reasoning he owns to be well founded, but
contends that the benefit arising from harrowing
and rolling is not derived from pulverising en-
tirely, but from subdividing and enabling the
plants to tiller, as it is termed. ' The harrow,' he
observes, ' certainly breaks the incrustation, and
the roller crumbles the clods ; but the harrow
removes many of the plants from their original
stations ; and, if the corn has begun to tiller at the
time it is used, the roots will be in many instances
subdivided, and then the application of my
system of divisibility comes into play. The
roller then serves to plant the roots which liavc
been torn up the harrow.' On this the society
observe, that the teeth of a harrow are too l-ir^c
to divide roots so small and tenacious as those
of grain ; and, whenever such roots stand in the
line any tooth makes, they will, if small, be only
turned on one side by the earth yielding to their
lateral pressure, or, if large, the whole root will
be drawn out of the ground. The principal
uses, therefore, derived from harrowing and
rolling these crops are, opening the soil
between the plants, earthing them up, break-
ing the clods, and closing the earth about their
roots. ' I have conversed,' says Mr. Bogle,
' much with many practical farmers, who all
admit that my plan has the appearance not only
of being practical, but advantageous. I have
also seen in the ninth number of Mr. Young's
Annals of Agriculture the account of an expe-
riment which strongly corroborates my theory.
It was made by the Rev. Mr. Pike of Edmonton.
From this, and other experiments which have
been made under my own eye, I foresee clearly
that the system is practicable, and will certainly
be productive of great benefit, should it become
general. Besides the saving of nine-tenths of
seed in the land sown broad-cast, other very
important advantages will attend the setting out
of wheat from a seed-bed, such as an early crop ;
the certainty of good crops ; rendering a summer
fallow unnecessary; saving dung; and having
your wheat perfectly free from weeds without
either hand or horse-hoeing : 500 plants in April
produced almost a bushel of grain. My gardener
says, he can set 1000 plants in a day, which is
confirmed by the opinion of two other gar-
deners.'
Excellent wheat according to Brown (Tracts
on Rural Affairs) may be grown on light soils,
with the exception of soft sands. Such soils,
however, are not constitutionally disposed to the
growth of that grain ; nor will they, under any
management, bear such a frequent repetition of
it as those already mentioned. Summer fallow
on them may safely be dispensed with ; because
a crop of turnips, which admits every branch of
the cleaning process to be more perfectly exe-
cuted than even a naked or bare fallow does,
may be profitably substituted. Wheat here
comes in with propriety after turnips, though,
in general cases, it must be sown in the spring
months, unless the turnips are stored ; in which
case it may be sown in November ; or it may be
sown after clover, for the fourth crop after the
rotation ; or in the sixth year, as a way-going
crop, after drilled peas and beans, if the rota-
tion is extended to that length. But, take it
any way, it is scarcely possible to raise wheat so
extensively upon light soils, even where they are
of the richest quality, as is practicable upon
clays; nor will a crop of equal bulk upon the
one return so much produce in grain as may be
got from the other. To enlarge upon this point
would only serve to prove what few husband-
men will dispute, though, it may be added, that,
on thin sands, wheat ought not to be ventured,
unless they are either completely clayed or
marled, as it is only with the help of these aux-
iliaries that such a soil can gam stamina ca-
pable of producing wheat with any degree of
succi --.
' On soils really calculated for wheat, though
RURAL ECONOMY.
105
in different degrees, summer fallow is the first
and leading step to gain a good crop or crops of
that grain. The first furrow should be given
before winter, or as early as other operations
upon the farm will admit; and every attention
should be used to go as deep as possible ; for it
rarely happens that any of the succeeding fur-
rows exceed the first one in that respect. The
number of after-ploughings must be regulated
by the condition of the ground and the state of
the weather; but, in general, it may be ob-
served that ploughing in length and across, al-
ternately, is the way by which the ground will
be most completely cut, and the intention of
fallowing accomplished. It has been argued
that harrowing clay soils, when summer fallowed,
is prejudicial to the wheat crop ; but, without
discussing this point (such a discussion being
unnecessary), it may merely be stated that in a
dry season it is almost impracticable to reduce
real clays, or to work them too small ; and that
oven in a wet one, supposing they are made
surface-smooth, they will, when ploughed up
attain, consolidate into clods or big lumps after
forty -eight hours' drought, and become nearly as
obdurate as ever. It is only on thin soils, which
have a mixture of peat earth, and are incumbent
on a bottom impervious to wafer, that damage
is at any time sustained by over harrowing.
Such are generally of a weak texture, and may
be broken down with facility by the roller and
harrow. If caught by much rain, before the
pores are in some measure closed, the moisture
is greedily absorbed ; and, being prevented from
going downwards by the hardness of the sub-
soil, the whole surface becomes a kind of mor-
tar or paste, unless previously well ridged up;
which, to a certain extent, prevents the conse-
quences from being dangerous. These evils,
ho%vever, must be submitted to by the posses-
sors of such soils, if they want to have them
sufficiently fallowed and prepared in a proper
manner; for, without reducing them, couch-
grass, and especially moss, with which they are
commonly stored, cannot be eradicated. If they
are reduced in the early part'of the season, the
danger is small ; but to break them down in the
latter part ought always to be avoided, unless
called for by imperious necessity. When wheat
is sown after beans it rarely happens, in this
northern climate, that more than one ploughing
can be successfully bestowed. Before this is
given it is advantageous to cross-harrow the
land, which levels the drills, and permits the
ploughing process to be executed with precision.
Almost in every case the ridges should be ga-
thered up, so that the furrows may be well
cleared out, and the plants preserved from in-
jury during the inclement winter season. Clover
land should be neatly ploughed, and well laid
over, so that the roots of the grasses may be
buried and destroyed ; for it frequently happens
that crops of wheat, after clover and rye-grass,
. are greatly injured by inattention to the plough-
ing process. In short, sowing wheat after clover
may be considered as the most hazardous way in
which that grain can be cultivated.'
The manures best calculated for wheat, are now
generally allowed to be animal matters and lime.
It is certain according to Sir H. Davy, Chaptal,
&c., that wheat will not thrive on any soil that does
not contain lime. Professor Thaer says it ab-
sorbs more nourishment from the soil than any
of the' corn tribe; and he calculates (hypothe-
tically, as he allows) that for every 100 parts of
nutriment in a soil sown with this grain, forty
will be carried off by the crop. (Principes
Raisonnees, torn. iv. art. Froment). At the
same time too much manure on land in good
tilth is very apt to cause the crop to lodge;
and hence some people think it improper to
dung rich clays or loams when fallowed, and
choose rather to reserve that restorative till the
succeeding season, when they are prepared for a
crop of drilled beans. Delaying the manuring
process for a year is attended with many advan-
tages ; because good land, fully wrought, con-
tains such a principle of action within itself, as
often causes the first wheat crop to be lodged
before it is filled ; under which circumstance,
the produce is diminished both in quantity and
quality. This delay in manuring is, however,
attended with disadvantages; because, when
dung is kept back till the end of autumn or
beginning of winter, to be laid on the stubbles,
the weather is often so wet that it cannot be
carted on without subjecting the land to injury
from poaching, whilst the labor in laying it on fs
also increased. On thin clays, or even upon
soils of the other description not in high condi-
tion, there can be no doubt but that the end of
summer, and upon summer fallow, is the most
proper time for manuring them, though it will
be found that an improvident expenditure of
dung, on such occasions, ought always to be
steadily avoided. Where manure is abundant,
wheat alternating with a green crop, or indeed
any corn crop and a green crop may be grown
alternately for any length of time. (Farm. Mag.
vol. xxiii. p. 298).
Wheat is sown as far north as Petersburgh
and in Sweden, and will endure a great deal of
cold during winter, if sown in a dry or well
drained soil. Moderately moist weather before
the flowering season, and after the grain is set or
formed, is favorable; but continued heavy rains
after the flowering season produces the smut.
The dry frosty winds of February and March,
and even April in some districts, are more inju-
rious to the wheats of Britain than any other
weather. Hoar frosts, when the plant is in the
ear, produce blights ; and mildews often result
from or follow sultry winds and fogs. Cold, in
the blossoming and ripening season in July,
even unaccompanied by wind or rain, produces
an inferior grain, greatly deficient in gluten ; and
heat the contrary. The most valuable wheat of
Europe, according to Sir H. Davy, is that of
Sicily ; which he found to contain much more
gluten than any other.
The season of sowing wheat on clays, accord-
ing to the able writer in the Ency. Brit. Supple-
ment, is generally the latter end of autumn ; but
on early turnip soils it is sown after clover or
turnips, at almost every period from tne begin-
ning of September till the middle of March ,
but the far greater part is sown in September and
October. For summer wheat, in the southeni
10G
RURAL E C O N O M Y.
districts, May is sufficiently early, but in the
north the last fortnight of April is thought a
more eligible seed-time. In the cultivation of
spring-sown winter wheat, it is of importance to
use the produce of spring-sown grain as seed, as
the crop of such grain ripens about a fortnight
earlier than when the produce of the same wheat
winter-sown is employed as spring seed. Ac-
cording to Brown, this process is indispensably
necessary on every soil ; otherwise smut, to a
greater or less extent, will, in nine cases out of
ten, assuredly follow. Though almost all prac-
tical farmers are agreed as to the necessity of
pickling, yet they are not so unanimous as to
the modus operand! of the process, and the ar-
ticle which is best calculated to answer the in-
tended purpose. Stale urine may be considered
as a safe and sure pickle ; and, where it can be
obtained in a sufficient quantity, is commonly
resorted to. The mode of using it does not,
however, seem to be agreed upon; one party
contends that the grain ought to be steeped in
the urine, another considers it as sufficient to
sprinkle the urine upon it. Some, again, are
advocates for a pickle made of salt and water,
suttciently strong to buoy up an egg, in which
the grain is to be thoroughly steeped. But what-
ever difference of opinion there may be as to the
kind of pickle that ought to be used, and the
mode of using it, all admit the utility of mixing
the wetted seed with hot lime, fresh slaked ; and
this, in one point of view, is absolutely neces-
sary, so that the seed may be equally distri-
buted. It may be remarked that experience
justifies the utility of all these modes, provided
they are attentively carried into execution.
There is some danger from the first ; for, if the
seed steeped in urine is not immediately sown,
it will infallibly lose its vegetative power. The
second, viz. sprinkling the urine on the seed,
seems to be the safest, if performed by an atten-
tive hand; whilst the last may do equally well,
if such a quantity of salt be incorporated with
the water as to render it of sufficient strength.
It may also be remarked that this last mode is
oftener accompanied with smut, owing no doubt
to a deficiency of strength in the pickle ; whereas
a single head with smut is rarely discovered
when urine has been used. A mode of pre-
paring wheat for sowing, recently adopted in the
south of Scotland, is thus described : — ' Take
four vessels, two of them smaller than the other
two, the former with wire bottoms, and of a size
to contain about a bushel of wheat, the latter
large enough to hold the smaller within them.
Fill one of the large tubs with water, and, put-
ting the-wheat in the small one, immerse it in
the water and stir and skim off the grains that
float above, and renew the water as often as is
necessary, till it comes off almost quite clean.
Then raise the small vessel in which the wheat
is contained, and repeat the process with it in
the other large tub, which is to be filled with
stale urine ; and in the mean time wash more
wheat in the water tub. When abundance of
water is at hand, this operation is by no means
tedious; and the wheat is much more effectually
cleansed from all impurities, and freed more
completely from weak and unhealthy grains and
seeds of weeds, than can be done by t'ne win-
nowing machine. \\ hen thoroughly washed and
skimmed, let it drain a little; then empty it on a
clear floor or in the cart that is to take it to the
field, and sift quick-lime upon it, turning it over
and mixing it with a shovel, till it be sufficiently
dry for sowing.' (Supplement, Ency. Brit. art.
Agriculture).
The modes of sowing wheat are either broad-
cast, drilling, ribbing, or dibbling. The first
mode is the most general, and the seed is for the
most part covered by harrowing; but no more
harrowing, Brown observes, should be given to
fields that have been fallowed, than what is ne-
cessary to cover the seed, and level the surface.
Ground which is to lie in a broken down state
through the winter suffers severely when an ex-
cessive harrowing is given. It is a general prac-
tice in most of the southern counties, and even
on opposite soils, when wheat is sown broad-
cast, to plough it in with a shallow furrow.
This i* done erven after beans and on clover leys.
Drilling is also practised, and is becoming
more general on lands infested with annual
weeds. A machine which sows at three different
intervals, according to the judgment of the far-
mer, of twelve, ten and a half, or nine inches,
is much approved of in the northern districts.
It deposits six, seven, or eight rows at once, ac-
cording as it is adjusted to one or other of these
intervals, and the work is done with ease and
accuracy when the ridges are previously laid out
of such a breadth, twelve and a half feet, as to
be sown by one bout : the machine going along
one side of such a ridge, and returning on the
other, and its direction being guided by one of
its wheels, which thus always runs in the open
furrow between the ridges. If the ten and a
half inch interval be adopted, and it is the most
common one in that country, the machine sows
seven rows at once, or fourteen rows on a ridge
of twelve feet and a half. But the space be-
tween the rows varies in some parts still more
than this machine admits of; it ought not, how-
ever, to be so narrow as to prevent hand hoeing,
even after the crop has made considerable pro-
gress in growth ; and it cannot advantageously
be so wide as to admit the use of any effective
horse-hoe.
Ribbing is a mode of sowing in some places,
by which a drill machine is dispensed with. The
seed is scattered with the hand in the usual
broad-cast manner, but, as it necessarily falls for
the most part in the furrows between the ribs,
the crop rises in straight parallel rows, as if it
had been sown by a drill machine : after sowing
the ribs are levelled by harrowing across. This
plan has nearly all the advantages of drilling in
so far as regards exposure to the rays of the sun,
and the circulation of air among the plants ; but,
as some plants must always rise between the
rows, it is not quite so proper when horse-hoeing
is required.
Of dibbling Mr. Loudon says, notwithstand-
ing the advantages of saving seed, as well as
some others which are generally reckoned unde-
niable, it is asserted by some very judicious
farmers that dibbling of wheat on the whole is
not really a profitable practice. It is parti-
RURAL ECONOMY.
107
cularly said to be productive of weeds unless
dibbled very thick : which indeed may probably
be the case, as the weeds are thus allowed a
greater space to vegetate in. Marshal is of opi-
nion that the dibbling of wheat appears to be
peculiarly adapted to deep rich soils, on which
three or four pecks dibbled early may spread
sufficiently for a full crop ; whereas light, weak,
shallow soils, which have lain two or three years,
and have become grassy, require an additional
quantity of seed, and consequently an addition
of labor, otherwise the plants are not able to
reach each other, and the grasses of course find
their way up between them, by which means the
crop is injured and the soil rendered foul. If a
single grain of good size and sound could be
dropt in each hole, and no more, there might be
an advantage in dibbling where it could be ac-
complished at a moderate rate ; but where two
or three grains are put in each hole, and often
six or eight, the source of profit is diminished
or destroyed by twofold means ; first, by using
too much seed ; and, secondly, because three or
four grains springing out of one hole will not
make such a strong plant or stool as one sound
grain. The only way in which we can conceive
dibbling likely to answer is by the use of a ma-
chine such as that invented by I'lunkett, but
which never came into use. To attempt dib-
bling either wheat or beans by hand, on a large
scale, we consider as quite unsuitable for the
present improved state of agriculture.'
When wheat is sown broad-cast, the subse-
quent culture is confined to harrowing, rolling,
and hand-hoeing : and, as grass seeds are fre-
quently sown in spring on winter-sown wheat,
the harrows and roller are employed to loosen
the soil, and cover the seeds, operations to a
certain extent found beneficial to the wheat crop
itself, and sometimes performed when grass seeds
are not to be sown. One or two courses of har-
rowing penetrate the crust which is formed on
tenacious soils, and operate like hand-hoeing in
raising a fresh mould to the stems of the young
plants. Rolling in spring ought never to be
omitted on dry porous soils.
When drilling, ribbing, or dibbling has been
adopted, the intervals are hoed or stirred either
by hand hoes, common or pronged, by horse
hoes, or drill harrows. In general the drill
used at sowing will be the best to use for hoe-
ing or stirring. Or, if a single drill should have
been used, the expanding horse hoe, or Blakie's
invented horse-hoe, may be successfully adopted.
The operation of hoeing or stirring should gene-
rally be performed in March. Weeding the rows
should not be delayed later than the end of May.
Where wheats rise uneven, or too thin in
some places and too thick in others, the practice
of transplanting has been practised in Essex and
Norfolk, at the end of March. Blanks are
sometimes filled up by sowing summer wheat,
dibbling beans, &c., but these are obviously bad
modes ; a better is either to stir the soil well,
and encourage the tillering of the plants, or to
stir the soil and then transplant.
Substances both solid and fluid have been
made use of for top dressing wheat where the
land or growth is poor; the first consist chiefly
of birds' dung brought into a powdery state,
bone-dust, soot, peat-ashes, and saline matters ;
the latter are principally the drainings of dung-
hills, &c. The former should be thinly and
evenly sown over the crop, as early in the spring
as horses can be admitted on the land ; and a
roller may then be passed over the crop. Where
the latter substances are made use of, care should
always be taken that the plants be not injured
by having too large a quantity applied. The
season for performing this business is the begin-
ning of February. When wheat appears too
forward, it }s sometimes eat down in April, with
sheep or even with horses, but this requires
great judgment.
The best farmers agree that wheat ought to be
cut before it become dead ripe. In ascertaining
the proper state, Brown observes, it is necessary
to discriminate betwixt the ripeness of the
straw, and the ripeness of the grain ; for in
some seasons the straw dries upwards; under
which circumstance, a field to the eye may ap-
pear to be completely fit for the sickle, when in
reality the grain is imperfectly consolidated ;
and perhaps not much removed from a milky
state. Though it is obvious that, under such
circumstances, no further benefit can be conveyed
from the root, and that nourishment is withheld
the moment that the roots die; yet it does not
follow that grain so circumstanced should be
immediately cut; because, after that operation
is performed, it is in a great measure necessarily
deprived of every benefit from the sun and air,
both of which have greater influence in bringing
it to maturity, so long as it remains on foot,
than when cut down, whether laid on the ground,
or bound up in sheaves. The state of the
weather at the time also deserves notice ; for, in
moist or even variable weather, every kind ot
grain, when cut prematurely, is more exposed to
damage than when completely ripened. All
these things will be studied by the skilful hus-
bandman, who will also take into consideration
the dangers which may follow, were he to permit
his wheat crop to remain uncut till completely
ripened. The danger from wind will not be
lost sight of, especially if the season of the
equinox approaches ; even the quantity dropped
in the field, and in the stack-yard, when wheat
is over ripe, is an object of consideration. The
mode of reaping is almost universally by the
sickle. In a few days of good weather the crop
is ready for the barn or stack-yard, where it is
built either in oblong or circular stacks, some-
times on frames supported with pillars to pre-
vent the access of vermin, and to secure the
bottom from dampness ; as soon afterwards as
possible the stacks should be neatly thatched.
When the harvest weather is so wet as to render
it difficult to prevent the stacks from heating, it
has been the practice to make funnels through
them, a large central one, and small lateral ones
to communicate. Corn keeps better in a well-
built stack than in any barn.
Wheat is now the cleanest threshed grain ;
because the length of the straw allows it to be
properly beaten out before it passes the machine,
which sometimes is not the case with short oats
and barley. If horses are used as the impelling
108
RURAL ECONOMY.
power, thin feeding is necessary, otherwise the
animals may be injured ; but where 'vind or
water is employed, the business of threshing is
executed speedily, completely, and economi-
cally.— Brown. In performing the operation
one man feeds the grain in the straw into the
machine, and is assisted by two half-grown lads,
or young women, one of whom pitches or car-
ries the sheaves from the boy close to the thresh-
ing stage, while the other opens the bands of
every sheaf, and lays the sheaves successively on
a small table close by the feeder, who spreads
them evenly on the feeding stage, that they m iy
1 e drawn in successively by the fluted rollers,
to undergo the operation of threshing. In the
opposite end of the barn or straw-house, into
which the rakes or shakers deliver the clean
threshed straw, one man forks up the straw from
the floor to the straw- mow, and two lads or
young women build it, and tread it down. In
a threshing machine, worked by water or wind,
this is the whole expense of hand-labor in the
threshing part of the operation, and, as a powerful
machine can easily thresh from 200 to 300 bushels
of grain in a working day of nine hours, the ex-
pense is exceedingly small indeed. Assuming
250 bushels as an average of the work of these
people for one day, and their wages to be nine
shillings, the expense does not amount to one
halfpenny for each bushel of grain. Even re-
ducing the quantity of grain threshed to 150
bushels, the easy work of a good machine of in-
ferior size and power, the expense does not ex-
ceed three farthings the bushel. But the whole
of this must not be charged against the threshing
only, the grain being half dressed at the same
time, by passing through one winnowing-ma-
chine, which is always attached to a complete
threshing-mill ; and where a second can be con-
veniently connected with it, as is commonly the
case if the mill be of considerable power, the
corn comes down nearly ready for market. So
that the threshing, dressing, and building of the
straw, with the use of a powerful water-mill,
will scarcely cost more than dressing alone when
the flail is employed ; after every reasonable
allowance for the interest of money, and the tear
and wear of the machine. When grain is threshed
with a machine worked by horses, the expens >
s considerably enhanced. One capable of
effecting the larger quantity of work, already
calculated on, will require eight good horses,
and a man to drive them, who may perhaps re-
quire the aid of a boy. The value of the work
of eight horses for a day cannot be less than forty
shillings, and the wages of the driver may be
called two shillings and sixpence. Hence the
total expense of threshing 250 bushels will
amount to £2 2x. 6d. : or about two-pence per
bushel, when the wages of the attendants are
added ; still leaving a considerable difference in
favor of threshing by the machine, in preference
to the flail. Were it even ascertained that the
expense of threshing by horses and by the flail is
nearly the same, horse-mills are to be recom-
mended on other accounts ; such as better thresh-
ing, expedition, little risk of pilfering, &c.
Professor Thaer says, that in general wheat
gives double the weight of straw than it does of
grain ; OR elevated ground something less ; and
on low grounds something more. An acrp,
therefore, which produces four quarters of wheat,
weighing sixty-one pounds per bushel, ought to
produce about 177J cwt. of straw; two load, or
twenty-two hundred weight and a half, however,
is only reckoned a tolerable crop in this country.
The yield of grain in some seasons has been
under twenty ; while in others it is upwards of
thirty bushels the acre, the soil and culture being
in every respect the same. The average produce
of Britain has been estimated at" three, three and
a half, and four quarters ; and one of the largest
crops ever heard of at ten quarters, and the
least at one quarter and a half. The proportion
which the corn bears to the straw, in Middlesex,
is eleven bushels and a half to a load of thirty-
six truss of thirty-six pounds each, or eleven
hundred weight and a half.
2. RYE is a bread corn of Germany and
Russia. In Britain it is now very little grown :
being no longer a bread corn, and therefore of
less value to the farmer than barley, oats, or
pease. The varieties are not above two, winter
and spring rye ; but there is so little difference
between them that spring rye sown along
with winter rye can hardly be disting heel
from it.
Rye, as we have said, will grow in dry sandy
soils ; on the whole it may be considered as pre-
ferring sands to clays. The preparation of the
soil should be similar to that for wheat. Accord-
ing to professor Thaer, rye abstracts thirty parts
in 100 of the nutriment contained on the soil in
which it is grown. The after culture, harvesting,
and threshing, are also the same as on wheat.
3. OATS. — As winter ploughing enters into the
culture of oats, we must remind the reader of
the effect of frost upon tilled land. Provi-
dence has neglected no region intended for th •
habitation of men. If in warm climates the
soil be meliorated by the sun, it is no less me-
liorated by frost in cold clima es. Frost acts
upon water, by expanding it into a larger space ;
but has no effect upon dry earth, or sand. Upon
wet earth, however, it acts most vigorously ; and
expands the moisture; which, requiring more
space, puts every particle of earth out of its place,
and separates them from each other. In that
view, frost may be considered as a plough supe-
rior to any that can be made by the hand of
man : its action reaches the minutest particles ;
and, by dividing and separating them, it render*
the soil loose and friable. This operation is
most remarkable in tilled land, which gives free
access to frost.
The common method is to sow oats on new-
ploughed land in March, as soon as the ground is
tolerably dry. If it continues wet all March, it
is too late to venture them after. It is much
better to summer-fallow, and to sow wheat in
the autumn. But the preferable method, espe-
cially in clay soil, is to turn over the field after
harvest, and to lay it open to the influences of
frost and air, which lessen the tenacity of clay,
and reduce it to a free mould. The surface
soil by this means is finely mellowed for recep-
tion of the seed ; and it would be a pity to bury
it by a second ploughing before sowing. In
general, the bulk of clay-soils are rich; and
skilful ploughing, without dung, will probably give
RURAL ECONOMY.
a better crop than unskilful ploughing with dung.
We must add a word respecting clays which
are artificial, whether left by the sea, or swept
drown from higher grounds by rain. The method
commonly used of dressing, which has been
called carse-clay for oats, is, not to stir it till
the ground be dry in spring, which seldom hap-
pens before the 1st of March, and the seed is
sown as soon after as the ground is sufficiently
dry for its reception. Frost has a stronger effect
on such clays than on natural clay. And, if the
field be laid open before winter, it is rendered
so loose by frost as to be soon drenched in water.
The particles at the same time are so small as
that the first drought in spring makes the surface
cake or crust. The difficulty of reducing this
crust into mould for covering the oat-seed, has
led farmers to delay ploughing till March. But
we are taught by experience that this soil,ploughed
before winter, is sooner dry than when the plough-
ing is delayed till spring ; and, as early sowing
is a great advantage, the objection of the super-
ficial crusting is easily removed by the first har-
row above described, which will produce abun-
dance of mould for covering the seed. The
ploughing before winter not only procures early
sowing, but has another advantage; the surface
soil that had been mellowed during winter by the
sun, frost, and wind, is kept above.
The dressing a loamy soil for oats differs little
from dressing a clay soil, except that, being less
hurt by rain, it requires not high ridges, and
therefore ought to be ploughed crown and fur-
row alternately. Where there are both clay and
loam in a farm, it is obvious from what is said
above, that the ploughing of the clay after har-
vest ought first to be despatched. If both can-
not be overtaken that season, the loam may be
delayed till the, spring with less hurt. — Next of a
gravelly soil ; which is the reverse of clay, as it
never suffers but from want of moisture. Such
a soil ought to have no ridges ; but be ploughed
circularly from the centre to the circumference,
or from the circumference to the centre. It
ought to be tilled after harvest: and the first dry
weather in spring ought to be laid hold of to
sow, harrow, and roll ; which will preserve it in
sap.
The culture of oats is simple. That grain is
probably a native of Britain : it grows on the
worst soil with very little preparation. Before
turnips were introduced, it was always the first
crop upon land broken up from the state of na-
ture. Upon such land, it may be a good me-
thod to build upon the crown of every ridge,
in the form of a wall, all the surface earth, one
sod above another, as in a fold for sheep. After
standing in this form all summer and winter, let
the walls be thrown down, and the ground pre-
pared for oats. This will secure one or two
good crops ; after which the land may be dunged
for a crop of barley and grass seeds. This
method may answer in a farm where manure is
scarce.
In England oats are generally cut down with
the scythe, and carried loose to the barn or stack ;
but in the northern districts, and where threshing
machines are used, they are tied into sheaves if
mown, but, for the most par:, reaped with the
sickle, in order in both cases to facilitate the
process of threshing. They are ready for the
scythe or sickle when the grain becomes hard,
and the straw yellowish. Like wheat they should
generally be cut before they are dead ripe, to
prevent the shedding of the grain, and to in-
crease the value of the straw as fodder. They
rarely get much damage when under the har-
vest process, except from high winds, or from
shedding, when opened out after being thoroughly
wetted. The early varieties are much more
liable to these losses than the late ones ; because
the grain parts more easily from the straw, an
evil to which the best of grain is at all times
subject. Early oats, however, may be cut a little
quick, which, to a certain extent, lessens the
danger to which they are exposed from high
winds ; and, if the sheaves be made small, the
danger from shedding after rains is considerably
lessened, because they are thus sooner ready for
the stack. Under every management, however,
a greater quantity of early oats will be lost
during the harvest process than of the late ones,
because the latter adhere firmly to the straw, and
consequently do not drop so easily as the former.
— Brown.
In Sweden, in most seasons, the oat crop is
dried on frames or poles, and in Russia, not only
oats, but barley and rye are kiln-dried in the
straw. The produce of oats is generally consi-
dered greater and of better quality in the
northern than in the southern counties ; and the
reasons are obviously that, in the former, more
attention is paid to their culture, and the climate
is more favorable for the maturation of the grain
Ten quarters an acre is reckoned a good crop in
the north, but the produce is often twelve and
thirteen quarters, and the straw from two to three
and a half loach per acre. In meal the produce
is eight Ibs. for fourteen Ibs. of corn. Sir II.
Davy found 100 parts of oats afforded fifty-nine
parts of starch, six of gluten, and two of sac-
charine.
4. BARLEY is a culmiferous plant that re-
quires a mellow soil. In England it ranks next
in value as a crop to wheat. Extraordinary
care is requisite where it is to be sown in clay.
The land ought to be stirred immediately after
the crop is removed, which lays it open to be
mellowed with the frost and air. In that view
the sort of ploughing has been introduced
termed ribbing, by which the greatest quantity
of surface possible is exposed to the air. The
obvious objection to this method is, that half of
the ridge is left unmoved : and, to obviate it, the
following method is offered, which moves the
whole soil, and at the same time exposes the
same quantity of surface to the frost and air. As
soon as the former crop is off the field, let the
ridges be gathered with as deep a furrow as the
soil will admit, beginning at the crown and end-
ing at the furrows. This ploughing loosens the
whole soil, giving free access to the air and frost.
Soon after, begin a second ploughing : let the
field be divided by parallel lines cross the ridges,
with intervals of thirty feet or so. Plough once
round an interval, beginning at the edges and
turning the earth toward the middle of the in-
terval ; which covers a foot or so of the ground
110
RURAL ECONOMY.
formerly ploughed. Within that foot plough
another round similar to the former ; and after
that other rounds, till the whole interval be fi-
nished, ending at the middle. Instead of be-
ginning at the edges, and ploughing toward the
middle, begin at the middle and plough toward
the edges. Plough the other intervals in the
same manner. As the furrows of the ridges will
thus be pretty much filled up, let them be cleared
and water-furrowed without delay. By this
method, the field will be left ridged up for win-
ter. In this form the field is kept perfectly dry;
for, beside the capital furrows that separate the
ridges, every ridge has a number of cross fur-
rows that carry the rain instantly to the capital
furrows. In hanging grounds retentive of mois-
ture, the parallel lines ought not to be perpendi-
cular to the furrows of the ridges, but to be
directed a little downward, to carry rain water
the more hastily to these furrows. If the ground
be clean, it may lie in that state winter and
spring, till the time of seed-furrowing. If weeds
rise, they must be destroyed by ploughing, or
braking, or both; for there cannot be worse
husbandry than to put seed into dirty ground.
This method resembles common ribbing in
appearance, but is very different in reality. As
the common ribbing is not preceded by a gather-
ing furrow, the half of the field is left unfilled,
compact as when the former crop was removed,
impervious in a great measure to air or frost.
The common ribbing at the same time lodges
the rain-water on every ridge, preventing it from
descending to the furrows, which is hurtful in
all soils, and destructive in a clay soil. The
stitching here described, or ribbing, prevents
these noxious effects. By the two ploughings
the whole soil is opened, admitting freely air
and frost; and the multitude of furrows lays the
surface perfectly dry. When it is proper to
sow the seed, all is laid flat with the brake, and
the seed-furrow which succeeds is so shallow as
to bury little or none of the surface earth :
whereas the stirring for barley, being done with
the deepest furrow, buries all the surface-soil
that was mellowed by the frost and air. This
method is also less expensive ; for after common
ribbing, which keeps in the rain water, the
ground is commonly so soured as to make the
stirring a laborious work.
Barley is less valuable when it does not ripen
equally. That which comes up speedily in a
dusky soil, gains a great advantage over seed-
weeds. Therefore, first take out about one-third
of the contents of the sacks of seed barley, to
-allow for the swelling of the grain. Lay the
sacks with the grain to steep in clean water; let
it -lie covered with it for at least twenty-four
hours. When the ground is dry, and no likeli-
hood of rain for ten days, it is better to lie thirty-
six hours. Sow the grain wet from steeping,
without any powdered quicklime, which would
suck up part of its useful moisture. The seed
will scatter well, but the sower must put in one-
quarter, or one-third more seed in bulk than
usual of dry grain, as the grain is swelled in
that proportion : harrow it in as quickly as pos-
sible after it is sown : and give it the benefit of a
fresh furrow. It will rise in a fortnight at farthest.
The following experiment by a correspondent
of the Bath Society is considered as inter-
esting : — The last spring, 1783, being remark-
ably dry, I soaked my seed barley in the black
water taken from a reservoir which constantly re-
ceives the draining of my dung heap and
stables. As the light corn floated on the top, I
skimmed it off, and let the rest stand twenty-
four hours. On taking it from the water, J
mixed the seed gram with a sufficient quantity of
sifted wood ashes, to make it spread regularly,
and sowed three fields with it. I began sowing
the 16th and finished the 23rd of April. The
produce was sixty bushels per acre, of good clean
barley, without any small or green corn, or
weeds at harvest. No person in this county had
better grain, I sowed also several other fields with
the same seed dry, and without any preparation ;
but the crop, like those of my neighbours, was
very poor ; not more than twenty bushels per
acre, and much mixed with green corn and weeds.
I also sowed some of the seed dry one ridge in
each of my former fields, but the produce was
very poor in comparison of the other parts of the
field.
Where the land is in good order, and free of
weeds, April is the month for sowing barley.
Every day is proper. The dressing loamy soil and
light soil for barley, is the same with that de-
scribed ; only that to plough dry is not so es-
sential as in dressing clay soil. Loam or sand
may be stirred a little moist : better, however,
delay a week or two, than to stir a loam when
moist. Clay must never be ploughed moist,
even though the season should escape altogether.
But this will seldom be necessary; for not in one
year of twenty will it happen, but that clay is dry
enough for ploughing some time in May. Frost
may correct clay ploughed wet after harvest ;
but, ploughed wet in the spring, it unites into a
hard mass, not to be dissolved but by very hard
labor.
On the cultivation of this grain we have the
following observations by a Norfolk farmer: 'The
best soil is that which is dry and healthy, rathei
light than stiff, but yet of sufficient strength to
retain moisture. On this kind of land the grain is
always the best bodied and colored, and has the
thinnest rind. These qualities recommend it most
to the maltster. If the land is poor, it should be
dry and warm ; and when so it will often bear
better grain than richer land in a cold and wet
situation. In the choice of seed, the best is of a
pale lively color and brightish cast, without any
deep redness or black tinge at the tail. If the rind
he a little shrivelled, it is the better; for that
slight shriveling proves it to have a thin skin, and
to have sweated in the mow. The necessity of a
change of seed by not sowing two years together
what grew on the same soil, is not in any part of
husbandry more evident than in the culture of
this grain, which, if not frequently changed, will
grow coarser every year. Liming has been found
prejudicial. Sprinkling a little soot with the
water in which it is steeped has been of great
service, as it secures the seed from insects. In a
very dry seed time, barley that has been wetted
for malting, and begins to sprout, will come up
sooner, and produce a good crop. On lands
RURAL ECONOMY.
Ill
tolerably manured,' adds this writer, ' I sowed
clover with my barley, which I reaped at har-
vest ; and fed the clover all the following winter,
and from spring to July, when I fallowed it till
the following spring, and then sowed it with bar-
ley and clover as before. Repeating this method
every year, I had very large crops ; but would
not recommend this practice on poor light land.
We sow on our lightest lands in April, on our
moist lands in May ; finding that those lands
\\hich are the most subject to weeds produce the
best crops when sown late. The common method
is to sow the barley seed broad-cast at two
sowings, the first harrowed in once, the second
twice; the usual allowance from three to four
bushels per acre. But if farmers could be pre-
vailed on to alter this practice, they would soon
find their account in it. Were only half the
quantity sown equally, the produce would be
greater, and the corn less liable to lodge ; for,
when corn stands very close, the stalks are
drawn up weak, and on that account are less
capable of resisting the force of winds, or sup-
porting themselves in heavy rains. From our
great success in setting and drilling wheat, some
of our farmers tried these metnods with barley;
but did not find it answer their expectations, ex-
cept on very rich land. 1 have myself had
eighty stalks on one root of bailey, which all
produced good and long ears, and the grain was
better than any other ; but the method is too ex-
pensive for general practice. In poor land, sow
thin, or your crop will be worth little. Farmers
who do not reason on the matter will be of a dif-
ferent opinion ; but the fact is indisputable.'
When the barley is sowed, and harrowed in, he
advises that the land be rolled after the first
shower of rain to break the clods. This will
close the earth about the roots, which will be a
great advantage to it in dry weather. When
the barley has been up three or four weeks, roll
it again with a heavy roller, which will prevent
the sun and air from penetrating the ground to
the injury of the roots. This rolling, before it
branches out, will also cause it to tiller into a
greater number of stalks ; so that if the plants
be thin, the ground will be thereby filled, and
the stalks strengthened. If the blade grows too
rank, as it sometimes will in a warm wet spring,
mowing is a much better method than feeding
it down with sheep ; because the scythe takes
off only the rank tops, but the sheep, being
fond of the sweet end of the stalk next the root,
will often bite so close as to injure its future
growth.
The preparation of the soil for barley is often
by a turnip fallow ; sometimes it is taken after
pease and beans, but rarely by good farmers,
either after wheat or oats. When sown after
turnips, it is taken with one furrow, which is
given -as fast as the turnips are consumed, the
ground thus receiving much benefit from spring
frosts. But often two or more furrows are ne-
cessary for the fields last consumed ; because,
when a spring drought sets in, the surface, from
being poached by the removal or consumption
of the crop, gets so hardened as to render a
greater quantity of ploughing, harrowing, and
rolling necessary, than would otherwise be called
for. When sown after beans and pease, one
winter and one spring ploughing are usually
bestowed ; but, when after wheat or oats, three
ploughings are necessary, so that the ground may
be put in proper condition. These operations
are very ticklish in a wet and backward season,
and rarely in that case is the grower paid for the
expense of his labor. Where land is in such a
situation as to require three ploughings before it
can be seeded with barley, it is better to summer
fallow it at once, than to run the risks which
seldom fail to accompany a quantity of spring
labor. If the weather be dry, moisture is lost
during the different processes, and an imperfect
germination necessarily follows : if it be wet, the
benefit of ploughing is lost, and all the evils of a
wet seed-time are sustained by the future crop.
Browne. — After turnips, eaten on the ground by
sheep, the land, being consolidated by their
treading, sometimes receives two ploughings ;
but, if only one, it should be well harrowed and
rolled ; and it is often finished by harrowing
after the roller, especially if grass-seeds be sown,
which are covered by this last harrowing. Bar-'
ley is sometimes sown on the first ploughing,
and covered by a second shallow ploughing. As
it is found of great importance, with a view to
speedy and equal vegetation, that the ground
should be fresh and moist, barley is generally
sown upon what is termed hot-fur, that is, as
soon as possible after it is turned up by the
plough. Manure can seldom be applied with "'
advantage. The climate most favorable to ,1-f
barley is a warm and dry one. There are in-
stances of a crop being sown and ripened with-
out having enjoyed a single shower of rain : but
gentle showers from the time it is sown till it
begins to shoot into the ear are favorable ; while
heavy rains at any period, and especially imme-
diately after sowing, are highly injurious.
No grain requires such careful harvesting. It
should be cut at a time when the grain is soft,
and the straw retains a great proportion of its
natural juices. It is generally cut down in
England with the cradle scythe, and either tied
up or carted home loose after lying in the swarth
some days to dry. It is not apt to shed ; but in
wet weather it will be apt to spout or grow
musty ; and therefore every fair day after rain it
should be shook up and turned ; but be careful
never to house it till thoroughly dry, lest it mow-
burn, which will make it malt worse than if it
had spired in the field. Lisle says, that poor
thin barley should be cut a little sooner than if
the same plants were strong and vigorous ; as
the straw, when the plants are full ripe, in such
cases will not stand against the scythe. In this
situation, barley in particular should lie in swarth
till it is thoroughly dry. Some of his barley,
which lay out in swarth five or six days in very
fine weather, though both blighted and edge-
grown, grew plump, and acquired very nearly
as good a color as the best. He reckons short
scythes the l>est for mowing lodged or crumpled
com, because they miss the fewest plants ; and
observes that a bow upon the scythe, which
carries away the swarth before it, is preferable
to a cradle, the fingers of which would be
pulled to pieces by the entangled corn, in draw-
ing back the scythe. In Scotland and Ireland it
is generally reaped with the sickle. Make au
112
RURAL ECONOMY.
opening in tne stack from top to bottom, by
placing a large bundle of straw in the centre of
the stack, when it commences, and in proportion
as it rises, the straw is drawn upwards, leaving
a hollow behind; which, if one or two openings
are left in the side of the stack near the bottom,
insures a complete circulation of air. Threshing
machines for barley are furnished with what is
called a hummeling machine, and, where this is
wanting, it is customary to put the grain, accom-
panied with a portion of threshed straw, a second
time through the machine. Where barley has
been mown, the whole of the straw requires to
be twice threshed, independently of the necessity
of getting rid of the ears. The produce of
barley, taking the average of England and the
south of Scotland, Donaldson considers, might
be rated at thirty-two bushels ; but when Wales
and the north of Scotland are included, where,
owing to the imperfect modes of culture still
practised, the crops are very indifferent, the ge-
neral average will not probably exceed twenty-
eight bushels the acre. Middleton states it as
varying in England from fifteen to seventy-five
bushels per acre. The average produce of the
county of Middlesex is about four quarters of
com and two loads of straw per acre.
5. BUCK WHEAT delights in a mellow sandy
soil ; but succeeds well in any dry loose healthy
land, and moderately so in a free loamy stone
1 brash. A stiff clay is its aversion, and it is en-
tirely labor lost to sow it in wet poachy ground.
The proper season for sowing is from the last
week of May or the beginning of June. It has
been sown, however, so early as the beginning of
April, and so late as the 22nd of July, by way
of experiment ; but the latter was rather too great
an extreme, and the former was in danger
from frost. In an experiment, upon a small
piece of ground, the grain of two different crops
was brought to maturity in summer 1787. After
spring feedings, a crop of turnip-rooted cabbage,
or vetches, there will be sufficient time to sow the
land with buck-wheat. In hot dry summers, a
crop of vetches might even be mown for hay
early enough to introduce a crop of this grain
after it. It will grow on the poorest soil, and
produce a crop in the course of three or four
months. It was cultivated so early as Gerard's
time, 1597, to be ploughed in as manure; but at
present, from its inferior value as a grain, and
its yielding very little haulm for fodder or ma-
nure, it is seldom grown but by gentlemen in
plantations, to encourage game. Arthur Young
recommends farmers in general to try this crop.
It has numerous excellencies, he says, perhaps as
many to good farmers as any other grain or
pulse in use. It is of an enriching nature,
having the quality of preparing for wheat, or
any other crop. One bushel sows an acre of land
well, which is but a fourth of the expense of
seed-barley. It should not be sown till the end
of May. This is important; for it gives time in
the spring to kill all the seed-weeds in the
ground, and brings no disagreeable necessity
from bad weather in March or April, to sow
barley, &c., so late as to hazard the crop. It is
as valuable as barley, and is the best of all crops
for sowing grass seeds with, giving them the
same shelter as barley or oats without robbing.
Buck-wheat is mown and harvested in the
mariner of barley. After it is mown, it must lie
several days, till the stalks be withered, before it
be housed. It is in no danger of the seeds fall-
ing, nor does it suffer much by wet. From its
great succulency it is liable to heat, on which
account it is better to put it in small stacks of five
or six loads each, than in either a large one or a
barn. The produce may be stated upon the ave-
rage at between three and four quarters per
acre; it would be considerably more did all the
grains ripen together, but that never appears to
be the case. Its use in this country is almosc
entirely for feeding poultry, pigeons, and swine.
It may also be given to horses, which are -said to
thrive well on it ; but the author of the New-
Farmer's Calendar, says, he thinks he has seen
it produce a stupefying effect. We should
add that it has been used in the distillery in
England, and is a good deal used in that way,
and as horse corn on the continent. Young says,
a bushel goes farther than two bushels of oats,
and, mixed with at least four times as much bran,
will be full feed for any horse a week. Four
bushels of the meal, put up at four hundred weight
will fatten a hog of sixteen or twenty stone in
three weeks, giving him afterwards three bushels
of Indian corn or hog-pease, broken in a mill,
with plenty of water. Eight bushels of buck-
wheat meat will go as far as twelve bushels of
barley meal. The meal is made into thin cakes
called crumpits in Italy, and even in some parts
of England ; and it is supposed to be nutritious,
and not apt to turn acid upon the stomach.
6. BEANS. — The most proper soil for beans is
a deep and moist clay. There has been intro-
duced into Scotland a method of sowing beans
with a drill-plough, and horse-hoeing the inter-
vals ; which, beside affording a good crop, is a
dressing to the ground. In the common way,
as this grain is early sown, the ground intended
for it should be ploughed before winter, to give
access to the" frost and air — beneficial in all soils,
and necessary in a clay soil. Take the first op-
portunity after January, when the ground is dry,
to loosen the soil with the harrow, till a mould
be brought upon it. Then sow the seed and
cover it equally. Beans ought to be laid deep
in the ground, not less than six inches. In clay
soil, the common harrows are altogether insuffi-
cient. The soil which has rested long after
ploughing is rendered compact and solid; the
common harrows skim the surface : the seed is
not covered ; and the first hearty shower of rain
lays it above ground. If the ground ploughed
before winter happen, by a superfluity of mois-
ture, to cake, the first harrow going along the
ridges, and crossing them, will loosen the sur-
face, and give access to the air for drying. As
soon as the ground is dry, sow without delay.
If rain happen in the interim, wait till a dry day
or two come. Carse clay, ploughed before
winter, seldom fails to cake. Upon that ac-
count, a second ploughing is necessary before
sowing ; which ought to be performed with an
ebb furrow, to keep the frost n.ould as near the
surface as possible. To cover the seed with ine
plough is expressed by the phrase to sow under
RURAL ECONOMY.
113
furrow. The clods raised in this ploughing are
a sort of shelter to the young plants in the
chilly spring months. The above method will
answer for loam. As for a sandy or gravelly
soil, it is altogether improper for beans.
Though we cannot approve the horse-hoeing
of beans, with the intervals that are commonly
allotted for turnip, yet we would strongly re-
commend the drilling them at the distance of ten
or twelve inches, and keeping the intervals clean
of weeds. This may begone by hand-hoeing, at
the same time laying fresh soil to the roots of the
plants. But as this is expensive, and hands are
not always to be got, a narrow plough, drawn by
a single horse, might be used, with a mould-
board on each side to scatter the earth upon the
roots of the plants. This is a cheap and expe-
ditious method ; it keeps the ground clean, and
nourishes the plants with fresh soil. As beans
delight in a moist soil, and have no end of
growing in a moist season, they cover the ground
totally when sown broad-cast, keep in the dew,
and exclude the sun and air: the plants grow to
a great height, but carry little seed, and that
little not well ripened. Hence the advantage of
drilling ; which gives free access to the sun and
air, dries the ground, and affords plenty of ripe
seed.
Brown, a very superior bean grower, gives the
following directions : — The furrow ought to be
given early in winter, and as deep as possible,
that the earth may be sufficiently loosened, and
room afforded for the roots of the plant to search
for the requisite nourishment. The first furrow
is usually given across the field, which is the best
method when only one spring furrow is intended ;
but, as it is now ascertained that two spring
furrows are highly advantageous, perhaps the
one in winter ought to be given in length, which
lays the ground in a better situation for resisting
the rains, and renders it sooner dry in spring,
than can be the case when ploughed across. On
the supposition that three furrows are to be
given, one in winter, and two in spring, the fol-
lowing is the most eligible preparation. The
land being ploughed in length, as early in winter
as is practicable, and the cross gutter and headland
furrows sufficiently digged out, take the second
furrow across the first as soon as the ground is
dry enough in spring to undergo the operation ;
water-furrow it immediately, and dig again the
cross gutter and headland furrows, otherwise the
benefit of the second furrow may be lost. This
being done, leave the field for some days, till it is
sufficiently dry, when a cast of the harrow be-
comes necessary, so that the surface may be
levelled. Then enter with the ploughs, and
form the drills. Manure is frequently applied,
especially if the bean crop succeed wheat. — Trea-
tise on Rural Affairs. According to Brown, the
best way is to apply the dung on the stubble be-
fore the winter furrow is given, which greatly
facilitates the after process. Used in this way, a
fore stock must be in hand ; but, where the far-
mer is not so well provided, spring dunging be-
comes necessary, though evidently of less advan-
tage. At that season it may either be put into
the drills before the seed is sown, or spread upon
the surface and ploughed down, according to the
Voi,. XIX.
nature of the drilling process which is meant to
be adopted. Land dunged to beans, if duly
hoed, is always in high order for carrying a crop
of wheat in succession. Perhaps better wheat,
both in respect of quantity and quality, may be
cultivated in this way, than in any other mode of
sowing.
In one mode of drilling beans, the lands or
ridges are divided by the plough into ridgelets,
or one bout stitches, at intervals of about twenty-
seven inches. If dung is to be applied, the
seed ought to be first deposited, as it is found
inconvenient to run the drill machine after-
wards. The dung may then be drawn out from
the carts in small heaps, one row of heaps serv-
ing for three or five ridgelets ; and it is evenly
spread, and equally divided among them, in a
way that will be more minutely described when
treating of the culture of turnips. The ridgelets
are next split out or reversed, either by means ofc
the common plough, or one with two mould-
boards, which covers both the seed and the ma-
nure in the most perfect manner. When beans
are sown by the other method, in the bottom of
a common furrow, the dung must be previously
spread over the surface of the winter or spring
ploughing. Three ploughs then start in succes-
sion, one immediately behind another, and a
drill harrow either follows the third plough or is
attached to it, by which the beans are sown in
every third furrow, or at from twenty-four to
twenty-seven inches asunder, according to the
breadth of the furrow-slice. Another approved
way, when dung is applied at seed time, is to
spread the dung and to plough it down with a
strong furrow ; after this shallow furrows are
drawn, into which the seed is deposited by the
drill-machine. Whichever of these modes of
sowing is followed, the whole field must be
carefully laid dry by means of channels formed
by the plough, and when necessary by the shovel;
for neither then nor at any former period should
water be allowed to stagnate on the land. The
dibbling of beans is considered by Arthur Young
as an excellent plan.
7. PEASE are of two kinds, the white and the
gray : the cultivation of the latter only belongs
to this place. There are two principal species of
the gray kind, distinguished by their time of
ripening. One ripens soon, and for that reason
is termed hot seed ; the other, which is slower in
ripening, is termed cold seed.
Pease, a leguminous crop, is proper to inter-
vene between two culmiferous crops; less for
the profit of a pease crop, than for meliorating
the ground. Pease, however, in a dry season,
will produce six or seven bolls each acre ; but in
an ordinary season they seldom reach above two
or two and a half. Hence, in a moist climate,
which all the west of Britain is, red clover seems
a more beneficial crop than pease ; as it makes
as good winter food as pease, and can be cut
green thrice during summer.
A field intended for cold seed ought to be
ploughed in October or November ; and in Fe-
bruary, as soon as the ground is dry, the seed
ought to be sown on the winter furrow. A field
intended for hot seed ought to be ploughed in
March or April, immediately before sowing. But,
I
114
RURAL ECONOMY.
;f infested with weeds, it ought to be also ploughed
in October and Novemoer.
Pease laid a foot be.ow the surface will vege-
tate ; but the most approved depth is six inches
in light soil, and four inches in clay soil ; for
which reason they ought to be sown under
furrow when the ploughing is delayed till spring.
Of all grains, beans excepted, they are the least
in danger of being buried. Pease differ from
beans in loving a dry soil and a dry season.
Horse-hoeing has little effect when the plants are
new sprung; and, when they are advanced, their
length prevents it. Fast growing at the same
time is the cause of their carrying so little seed :
the seed is buried among the leaves ; and the sun
cannot penetrate to make it grow and ripen. The
only practicable remedy to obtain grain is thin
sowing ; but thick sowing produces more straw,
and mellows the ground more. Half a boll for
an English acre may be reckoned thin sowing;
three firlots, thick sowing.
Notwithstanding what is said above, Mr.
Hunter of Berwickshire, some years ago, be-
gan to sow all his pease in drills ; and never
failed to have great crops of pease, as well as of
straw. He sowed double rows at a foot inter-
val, and two feet and a half between the dou-
ble rows, which admit horse-hoeing. By that
method he had also good crops of beans on light
land.
Pease and beans mixed are often sown together,
in order to catch different seasons. In a moist
•eason, the beans make a good crop ; in a dry
<eason, the pease.
The growth of plants is commonly checked
by drought in the month of July, but promoted
by rain in August. In July grass is parched ;
in August it recovers verdure. Where pease are
so far advanced in the dry season that the seeds
begin to form, their growth is indeed checked,
but the seed continues to fill. If only in the
blossom at that season, their growth is checked a
little ; but they become vigorous again in August,
and continue growing without filling till stopped
by frost. Hence it is that cold seed, which is early
sown, has the best chance to produce corn ; hot
seed, which is late sown, has the best chance to
produce straw.
The following method is practised in Norfolk,
for sowing pease upon a dry light soil, immedi-
ately opened from pasture. The ground is pared
with a plough extremely thin, and every sod is
laid exactly on its back. In every sod a double
row of holes is made. A pea dropt in every
hole lodges in the flayed ground immediately
below the sod, thrusts its roots horizontally, and
has sufficient moisture. The most common mode
of sowing pease is broad-cast ; but the advanta-
ges of the row culture in the case of a crop
early committed to the soil must be obvious.
The best farmers, therefore, sow pease in drills
either after the plough, the seed being deposited
commonly in every second or third furrow, or if
the land is in a pulverised state by drawing drills
with a machine or by ribbing. In Norfolk and
Suffolk pease are generally dibbled on the back
of the furrow, sometimes one and sometimes two
rows on each ; but dibbling in no manner ap-
pears to us so well suited for a farmer's purpose
as the drill. In Kent, where immense quantities
of pease are grown both for gathering green and
for selling ripe to the seedsmen, they are gener-
ally sown in rows from eighteen inches to three
feet asunder, according to the kind, and well
cultivated between.
The after culture is that of hoeing, either by
hand or horse. Where the former method pre-
vails, it is the general custom to have recourse
to two hoeings ; the first when the plants are
about two or three inches in height, and again
just before the period in which they come into
blossom. In this way the vigorous vegetation of
the young crop is secured, and a fresh supply o
nourishment afforded for the setting of the pods
and the filling of the pease. At the last of these
operations the rows should be laid down, and
the earth well placed up to them, the weeds
being previously extirpated by hand labor. It
has been stated \hat in some parts of Kent,
where this sort of crop is much grown, it is the
practice, when the distance of the rows is suf-
ficiently great, to prevent the vegetation of
weeds, and forward the growth of pea crops, by
occasionally horse-hoeing, and the use of the
brake-harrow, the mould being laid up to the
roots of the plants at the last operation by fixing
a piece of wood to the harrow. This should,
however, only be laid up on one side, the pease
being placed up to that which is most exposed
to the sun. When pea crops become ripe they
wither and turn brown in the haulm or straw,
and the pods open. In this state they should
be cut as soon as possible, in order that there
may be the least loss sustained by their shedding.
In early crops the haulm is hooked up into
loose open heaps, which, as soon as they are
perfectly dry, are removed from the ground and
put into stacks for the purpose of being converted
to the food of animals, on which they are said
to thrive nearly as well as on hay. When in-
tended for horses, the best method would seem
to be that of having them cut into chaff and
mixed with their other food.
Young says that forward white pease will be
fit to cut early in July ; if the crop is very great
they must be hooked; but if small, or only
middling, mowing will be sufficient. The stalks
and leaves of pease being very succulent, they
should be taken good care of in wet weather:
the tufts, called wads or heaps, should be turned,
or they will receive damage. White pease should
always be perfectly dry before they are housed,
or they will sell but indifferently, as the bright-
ness and plumpness of the grain are considered
at market more than with hog-pease. The straw
also, if well harvested, is very good fodder for
all sorts of cattle and for sheep ; but if it re-
ceives much wet, or if the heaps are not turn n I,
it can be used only to litter the farmyard with.
It is the practice in some districts to remove the
haulm as soon as it has been cut up by hooks
constructed with sharp edges for the purpose, to
every fifth ridge, or even into an adjoining grass
field, in order that it may be the better cured
for use as cattle food, and at the same time allow
of the land being immediately prepared for the
RURAL ECONOMY.
115
succeeding crop. When wet weather happens,
whilst the pease lie in wads, it occasions a con-
siderable loss, many of them being shed in the
field, and of those that remain a great part will
be so considerably injured as to render the
sample of little value. This inability in pease
to resist a wet harvest, together with the great
uncertainty throughout their growth, and the
frequent inadequate return in proportion to the
length of haulm, has discouraged many farmers
from sowing so large a portion of this pulse as
of other grain ; though on light lands, which are
in tolerable heart, the profit, in a good year, is
far from inconsiderable.
The threshing of 'pease requires little labor.
Where the haulm is wished to be preserved en-
tire it is best done by hand ; as the threshing
machine is apt to reduce it to chaff. But where
the fodder of pease is to be given immediately to
horses on the spot, the breaking it is no disad-
vantage. The produce in ripened seeds is sup-
posed by some to be from three and a half to
four quarters the acre; others, as Donaldson,
imagine the average of any two crops together
not more than about twelve bushels ; and that on
the whole, if the value of the produce be merely
attended to, it may be considered as a less pro-
fitable crop than most others. But, as a means of
ameliorating and improving the soil at the same
time, it is esteemed of great value. As to the
produce in green pease, in the husk, the average
of the early crops in Middlesex is supposed to
be from about twenty-five to thirty sacks the acre,
which, selling at from 8s. to 18s. the sack, afford
about £18 the acre. The author of the Synopsis
of Husbandry, however, states the produce about
Dartford, at about forty sacks the acre, though,
he says, fifty have sometimes been gathered from
that space of land. The produce of pease in
straw is very uncertain. In flour it is as three to
two of the bulk in grain, and husked and split
for soups as four to two. 1000 parts of pea
flour afforded Sir H. Davy 574 parts of nutri-
tive or soluble matter, viz. 501 of mucilage or
vegetable animal matter, twenty-two of sugar,
thirty-five of gluten, and sixteen of insoluble
extract.
SECT. II. — OF PLANTS CULTIVATED FOR ROOTS.
Turnips delight in a gravelly soil, and can be
raised to great perfection, and without the least
hazard of miscarrying. At the same time there
is no soil but will bear turnips, when well pre-
pared. No agriculturist ever deserved better of
a country than he who first cultivated turnips in
the field. No plant is better fitted for the climate
of Britain, no plant prospers better in the coldest
part of it, and no plant contributes more to fer-
tility. In a word, there has not for two centu-
ries been introduced a more valuable improve-
ment.
Of all roots, turnips require the finest mould ;
and, to that end, of all harrows frost is the best.
To give access to frost, the land ought to be pre-
pared by ribbing after harvest, as above directed
in preparing land for barley. If the field be
not subject to annuals, it may lie in that state
till the end of May ; otherwise the weeds must
be destroyed by a breaking about the middle o(
April, and again in May, if weeds arise. The
first week of June plough the field with a shal-
low furrow. Lime it if requisite, and harrow
the lime into the soil. Draw single furrows,
with intervals of three feet, and lay dung in the
furrows. Cover the dung sufficiently, by going
round it with the plough, and forming the three
feet spaces into ridges. The dung comes thus to
lie below the crown of every ridge.
The season of sowing must be regulated by
the time intended for feeding. When intended
for feeding in November, December, January,
and February, the seed ought to be sown from
the 1st to the 20th of June. Where the feeding
is intended to be carried on to March, April, and
May, the seed must not be sown till the end of
July. Turnips sown earlier than above directed
flower that very summer, and run fast to seed ;
which renders them unfit for food. If sown
much .later, there is no food but from the leaves.
Though by a drill plough the seed may be sown
of any thickness, the safest way is to sow thick.
Thin sowing is liable to many accidents, which are
far from being counterbalanced by the expense that
is saved in thinning. Thick sowing can bear the
ravages of the black fly, and leave a sufficient
crop behind. It is a protection against drought,
gives the plants a rapid progress, and establishes
them in the ground before it is necessary to thin
them.
The sowing turnips broad-cast is universal in
England, and common, though a barbarous
practice, in Scotland. The eminent advantages
of turnips is, that, besides a profitable crop, they
make a most complete fallow ; and the latter
cannot be obtained but by horse-hoeing. Upon
that account, the sowing turnips in rows at three
feet distance is recommended. Wider rows an-
swer no profitable end ; straiter rows afford not
room for a horse to walk in. When the turnips
are about four inches high, annual weeds will
appear. Go round every interval with the
slightest furrow possible, two inches from each
row, moving the earth from the rows towards the
middle of the interval. A thin plate of iron
must be fixed on the left side of the plough, to
prevent the earth from falling back and burying
the turnips. Let women weed the rows with
their fingers ; which is better and cheaper than
with the hand hoe, which is also apt to disturb
the roots of the turnips that are to stand, and to
leave them open to drought by removing the
earth from them. The standing turnips are to be
twelve inches from each other : a greater distance
makes them swell too much ; less affords them
not sufficient room. A woman soon comes to
be expert in weeding. The following hint may
be necessary to a learner. To secure the turnip
that is to stand, let her cover it with the left
hand, and with the right pull up the turnip on
both sides. After thus freeing the standing tur-
nip, she may safely use both hands. Let the
field remain in this state till the appearance of
new annuals make a second ploughing neces-
sary ; which must be in the same furrow with
the former, but deeper. As in this ploughing
the iron plate is removed, part of the loose earth
I 2
lid
RURAL ECONOMY.
will fall back on the roots of the plants : the
rest will fill the middle of the interval, and bury
every weed. When weeds begin again to ap-
pear, then is the time for a third ploughing in
an opposite direction, which lays'the earth to the
roots of the plants. This ploughing may be
about the middle of August; after which weeds
rise very faintly. If they do rise, another
ploughing will clear the ground of them. Weeds
that at this time rise in the row, may be cleared
with a hand-hoe, which can do little mischief
among plants twelve inches from each other.
But it may be done cheaper with the hand. And
after the leaves of turnips in a row meet together,
the hand is the only instrument that can be ap-
plied for weeding.
In swampy ground, the surface of which is
best reduced by paring and burning, the seed
may be sown in rows with intervals of a foot.
To save time, a drill plough may be used that
sows three or four rows at once. Hand-hoeing
is proper for such ground ; because the soil
under the burnt stratum is commonly full of
roots, which digest and rot better under ground
than when brought to the surface by the plough.
While these are digesting, the ashes will se-
cure a good crop. • In cultivating turnips,
care should be taken to procure good, bright,
nimble, and well dried seed, and of the best
kinds. The Norfolk farmers generally raise the
oval white, the large green topped, and the red
or purple topped kinds, which from long expe-
rience they have found most profitable. The
roots of the green topped will grow to a large
size, and continue good much longer than others.
The red or purple topped will also grow large,
and continue good till February ; but the roots
become hard and stringy sooner than the former.
The green topped, growing more above ground,
is in more danger of injury from severe frosts
than the red or purple, which are more than
half covered by the soil ; but it is the softest
and sweetest, when grown large, of any kind.
They are brought to table a foot in diameter, as
good as garden turnips.
Turnips delight in a light soil, of sand and
loam mixed. When the soil is rich and heavy,
although the crop may be as weighty, they will
!>e rank, and run to flower earlier in spring.
Turnip seed will not do well without frequent
changing. The Norfolk seed is sent to most
parts of the kingdom, and even to Ireland, but
after two years it degenerates ; so that those who
wish to have turnips in perfection should pro-
cure it fresh every year from Norwich, to prevent
being imposed upon by seed of that name in-
ferior in quality.
When the plants have got five leaves, they
should be hoed, and set out at least six inches
apart. A month afterward, or earlier if it be a
wet season, a second hoeing should take place,
and the plants be left at least fourteen inches
from each other, especially if intended for feed-
ing cattle ; for, where the plants are left thicker,
they will be proportionably smaller, unless the
land is very rich indeed. Some of the best Nor-
folk farmers sow turnips in drills three feet
asunder, and at a second hoeing leave them a
foot apart. By these means the trouble and ex-
pense of hoeing is much lessened, and the crop
of equal weight as when sown in the common
method. The intervals may easily be cleared of
weeds by the horse-hoe. Great quantities of
turnips are raised in Norfolk every year for feed-
ing black cattle, which turn to great advantage.
An acre of land contains 4840 square yards, or
43,560 square feet. If then every square foot
contains one turnip, and they weigh only two
pounds each, here will be a mass of excellent
food of forty-six tons per acre, worth from four
to five guineas and sometimes more.
Extraordinary crops of barley frequently suc-
ceed turnips, especially when fed off the land
In feeding them off, the cattle should not be
suffered to run over too much of the ground
at once ; for in that case they will tread down
and spoil twice as many as they eat. In Nor-
folk they are confined by hurdles to as much as
is sufficient for them for one day. By this mode
the crop is eaten clean, the soil is equally trod-
den, which if light is of much service, and
equally manured by the cattle. A notion pre-
vails, in many places, that mutton rattened with
turnips is thereby rendered rank and ill tasted ;
but this is a vulgar error. The best mutton in
Norfolk is all fed with turnips. Rank pastures,
and marshy lands produce rank mutton. If the
land be wet and spongy, the best method is to
draw and carry off your turnips to some dry
pasture; for the treading of the cattle will not
only injure the crop, but render the land so stiff
that you must be at an additional expense in
ploughing. To preserve turnips for late spring
seed, the best method, and which has been tried
with success by some of the best English far-
mers, is to stalk them up in dry straw ; a load
of which is sufficient to preserve forty tons of
turnips. The method is easy, and is as follows : —
After drawing your turnips in February, cut off
the tops and tap roots (which may be given to
sheep), and let them lie a few days in the field.
Then, on a layer of straw next the ground, place
a layer of turnips two feet thick; then another
layer of straw, and so on alternately, till you
have brought the heap to a point. Care must
be taken to turn up the edges of the layers of
straw, to prevent the turnips from rolling out ;
cover the top well with long straw, and it will
serve as a thatch for the whole. In this method,
as the straw imbibes the moisture exhaled from the
roots, all vegetation will be prevented, and the
turnips will be nearly as good in May as when
first drawn from the field. If straw be scarce,
old haulm or stubble will answer the same pur-
pose. But, to save this trouble and expense,
farmers in all counties would find it their interest
to adopt the method used by the Norfolk far-
mers, which is, to continue sowing turnips to the
end of August ; by which means their late crops
remain good in the field till the end of April, and
often till the middle of May. The advantages of
having turnips good till the spring seed is ready,
are so obvious and great, that many of the most
intelligent farmers are now come into it, and find
their account in so doing.
2. POTATOES. — The choice of soil is not of
creater importance for any other plant than for
potatoes. This plant in clay soil, or in rank
RURAL ECONOMY.
117
black loam lying low without ventilation, never
makes palatable food. In a gravelly or sandy
soil, exposed to the sun and free air, it thrives to
perfection, and has a good relish. But a rank
black loam, though improper to raise potatoes
for the table, produces them in great plenty ;
and the product is a palatable food for horned
cattle, hogs, and poultry. The spade is a proper
instrument for raising a small quantity, or for
preparing corners or other places inaccessible to
the plough ; but, for raising potatoes in quantities,
the plough is the only instrument.
As two great advantages of a drilled crop are,
to destroy weeds, and to have a fallow at the
same time with the crop, no judicious farmer
will think of raising potatoes in any other way.
In September or October, as soon as that year's
crop is removed, let the field have a rousing fur-
row, a cross brakeing next, and then be cleared
of weeds by the cleaning harrow. Form it into
three feet ridges, in that state to lie till April,
which is the proper time for planting potatoes.
Cross brake it, to raise the furrows a little. Then
lay well digested horse dung along the furrows,
upon which lay the roots eight inches distant.
Cover up these with the plough, going once
round every row. This makes a warm bed for
the potatoes; hot dung below and a loose cover-
ing above, that admits every ray of the sun. As
soon as the plants appear above ground, go
round every row a second time with the plough,
which will lay upon the plants an additional
incli or two of mould, and at the same time bury
all the annuals ; and this will complete the
ploughing of the ridges. When the potatoes are
six inches high, the plough, with the deepest
furrow, must go twice along the middle of each
interval in opposite directions, laying earth first
to one row, and next to the other. And to per-
form this work, a plough with a double mould
ooard will be more expeditious; but, astheearth
cannot be laid close to the roots by the plough,
the spade must succeed, with which four inches
of the plants must be covered, leaving little more
but all the tops above ground ; and this operation
will bury all the weeds that have sprung since the
former ploughing. What weeds arise after, must
be pulled up by the hand. A hoe is never to be
used here.
In the Bath Society Papers, we have the fol-
lowing practical observations on the culture and
use of potatoes, given as the result of various ex-
periments made for five years successively.
When the potatoe crop has been the only ob-
ject in view, the following method is the most
eligible : — The land being well pulverised by
two or three good harrowings and ploughings,
is then manured with fifteen or twenty cart loads
of dung per acre, before it receives its last earth.
Then it is thrown on to what the Suffolk fanners
call the trench balk, wm'ch is narrow and deep
ridge work, about fifteen incites from the centre
of one ridge to the centre of the other. Women
and children drop the sets in the bottom of
every furrow fifteen inches apart ; men follow
and cover them with large hoes, a foot in width,
pulling the mould down so as to bury the sets
five inches deep ; they must receive two or three
hand lioeings, and be kept free from weeds; al-
ways observing to draw the earth as much as
possible to the stems of the young plants. The
first or second week in April is the most advan-
tageous time for planting.
In the end of September or beginning of Oc-
tober, when the haulm becomes withered, they
should be ploughed up with a strong doubk
breasted plough. The workman must be cau-
tioned to set his plough very deep, that he may
strike below all the potatoes, to avoid damaging
the crop. The women who pick them up, if not
carefully attended to, will leave many in the
ground, which will prove detrimental to any
succeeding crop. To avoid which, let the land
be harrowed, and turn in the swine to glean the
few that may be left. By this method, the sets
will be fifteen square inches from each other ; it
will take eighteen bushels to plant an acre ; and
the produce, if on a good mixed loamy soil, will
amount to 300 bushels. If the potatoes are
planted as a preparation for wheat, it is prefer-
able to have the rows two feet two inches from
each other, hand-hoeing only the space from
plant to plant in each row ; then turning a small
furrow from the inside of each row by a common
light plough, and afterwards with a double
breasted plough with one horse, split the ridge
formed by the first ploughing thoroughly to clean
the intervals. This work should not be done
too deep the first time, to avoid burying the ten-
der plants ; but the last earth should be plough-
ed as deep as possible ; and the closer the mould
is thrown to the stems of the plants the better.
Thus fifteen bushels will plant an acre, and the
produce will be about 300 bushels ; and the
land, by the summer ploughings, will be pre-
pared to receive seed wheat immediately, and .il-
most ensure a plentiful crop. The potatoe sets
should be cut a week before planting, with one
or two eyes to each, and the pieces not very
small ; two bushels of fresh slaked lime should
be sown over the surface of the land as soon as
planted, which will effectually prevent the attacks
of the grub.
A premium having been offered by the abot t
Society for the cultivation of potatoes by far-
mers, &c., whose rent does not exceed £40 per
annum, the following methods were communi-
cated, by which those who have only a small
spot of ground may obtain a plentiful crop.
The earth should be dug twelve inches deep,
if the soil, will allow of it: after this, a hole
should be opened about six inches deep, horse
dung, or long litter should be put therein aboul
three inches thick ; this hole should not be more
than twelve inches in diameter; upon this dung,
or litter, a potatoe should be planted whole,
upon which a little more dung should be shook,
and then earth put thereon. In like manner the
whole plot of ground must be planted, taking
care that each potatoe be at least sixteen inches
apart ; and, when the young shoots make their
appearance, they should have fresh mould drawn
round them with a hoe ; and if the tender shoots
are covered, it will prevent the frost from injur-
ing them; they should again be earthed when
the shoots make a sec OK d appearance, but not be
covered, as the seasci will then be less severe.
A plentiful supply r mould should be given
118
RURAL ECONOMY.
them, and the parson who performs this business
.should never tread upon the plant, or the hillock
that is raised round it; as,. the lighter the earth
is, the more room the potatoe will have to ex-
pand. From a single root thus planted, very
nearly forty pounds of large potatoes were ob-
tained, and from almost every other root upon the
same plot, from fifteen to twenty pounds ; and,
unless the soil be stony or gravelly, ten pound,
or half a peck of potatoes may almost always be
obtained from each root, by pursuing the above
method. But cuttings or small sets will not do
for this purpose.
The second method will suit those who have
not time to dig their ground. Where weeds
much abound, and have not been cleared in the
winter, a trench may be opened in a straight
line the whole length of the ground, and about
six inches deep ; in this trench the potatoes
should bo planted about ten inches apart ; cut-
tings or small potatoes will do for this method.
When they are laid in the trench, the weeds that
are on the surface may be pared off on each side
about ten inches from it, and be turned upon the
plants; another trench should then be dug, and
the mould that comes out of it turned on the
weeds. Each trench should be regularly dug,
that all the potatoes may be ten or twelve inches
from each other. This method will raise more
potatoes than can be produced by digging the
ground twice, and dibbling in the plants; as the
weeds lighten the soil, and give the roots room
to expand. They should be twice hoed, and
earthed up in rows. If cut potatoes are to be
planted, every cutting should have two eyes, for,
though fewer sets will be obtained, there will be
a greater certainty of a crop, as one eye often
fails. Where a crop of potatoes fails in part,
amends may still be made by laying a little dung
upon the knots of the straw or haulm of those
potatoes that do appear, and covering them with
mould ; each knot or joint thus ordered, will, if
the weather prove wet afterwards, produce more
potatoes than the original roots. From the
smallest potatoes planted whole, from four to six
pound at a root were obtained, and some of the
single potatoes weighed nearly two pound.
These were dug in, in trenches where the ground
was covered with weeds, and the soil was a stiff"
loamy clay.
A good crop may be obtained by laying pota-
toes upon turf at about twelve or fourteen inches
apart, and upon l>eds of about six feet wide ; on
each side of which a trench should be opened
about three feet wide, and the turf that comes
thence should be laid with the grassy side down-
wards upon the potatoes ; a spot of mould should
next be taken from the trenches, and be spread
over the turf; and in like manner the whole plot
of ground that is to be planted must be treated.
When the young bhoots appear, another spot of
mould from the trenches should he strewed over
the beds, to rover the shoots ; this will prevent
the frost from injuring them, encourage them to
expand, and totally destroy the young weeds.
When the potatoes are taken up in the autumn,
turn the earth again into the trenches, so as to
make the surface level.
For field planting, a good method is to dung
the land, which should be once ploughed pre-
vious thereto ; and, when ploughed a second
time, the potatoe plants should be dropped be-
fore the plough in every third furrow, about
eight or ten inches apart. Plants that are cut
s\it!i two eyes are best for this purpose. The
reason for planting them at so great a distance
as every third furrow, is, that when the shoots
appear, a horse hoe may go upon the two vacant
furrows to keep them clean ; and, after they are
thus hoed, they should be moulded up in ridges ;
and, if this crop be taken up about October or
November, the land will be in excellent condi-
tion to receive a crop of wheat. Lands that are
full of twitch or couch grass, may be made clean
by this method, as the horse-hoeing is as good as
a summer fallow; and if, when the potatoes are
taken up, women and children were to pick out
such filth, no traces of it would remain ; and by
burning it a quantity of manure would be pro-
cured. After ploughing, none should ever dib-
ble in potatoes, for treading the ground, .
Vacant places in hedge rows might be grubb-
ed and planted with potatoes, and a good crop
might be expected, as the leaves of trees, thorns,
&c., are a good manure, and will surprisingly
encourage their growth, and gratify the wishes of
the planter; who, by cultivating such places, will
then make the most of his ground, and it will be
in fine order to receive a crop of corn the follow-
ing year.
The best method of taking up potatoes is to
plough once round every row at the distance of
four inches, removing the earth from the plants,
and gathering up with the hand all the potatoes
that appear. This distance is proper to prevent
cutting the roots. When the ground is thus
cleared by the plough, raise the potatoes with a
fork having three broad toes. The potatoes
must then be gathered with the hand.
It is of importance to have potatoes all the
year round. For a long time they were in Scot-
land confined to the kitchen garden ; and, after
they were planted in the field, it was not supposed
at first that they could be used after December.
Of late they have been kept good till April.
But it is easy to preserve them till the next crop:
when taken out of the ground, lay in a corner
of a barn a quantity that may serve till the
spring covered with dry straw pressed down :
hury the remainder in a hole dug in dry ground,
mixed with the husks of dried oats, sand, or the
dry leaves of trees, over which build a stack ot
hay or corn. When the pit is opened for taking
out the potatoes, the eyes of what have tendency
to push must be cut out; and this cargo will
serve till the end of June. To be certain of
making the old crop meet the new, the setting of
a small quantity may be delayed till June, to be
taken up at the ordinary time before frost. This
cargo, having not arrived to full growth, will not
be so ready to push as what are set in April. If
the old crop be exhausted before the new crop is
ready, the interval may be supplied by the po-
tatoes of the new crop that lie next the surface,
to be picked up » -ith the hand ; which, far from
hurting the crop, will rather improve it.
Kinlinrf found inealy'potatoes to contain twen-
ty-four per cent, of thf 'ir \\< -i^ht of nt-.tritive mat-
RURAL ECONOMY.
119
ter, and rye seventy parts. Consequently sixty-
four and a half measures of potatoes afford the
same nourishment as twenty-four measures -of rye.
1000 parts of potatoe yielded to Sir H. Davy
from 200 to 360 parts of nutritive matter, of
which from 155 to 200 were mucilage or starch,
fifteen to twenty sugar, and thirty to forty gluten.
Now, supposing an acre of potatoes to weigh
nine tons, and one of wheat one ton, which is
about the usual proportion, then as 1000 parts
of wheat afford 950 nutritive parts, and 1000 of
potatoe say 230, the quantity of nutritive matter
afforded by an acre of wheat and potatoes will
be nearly as nine to four ; so that an acre of po-
tatoes will supply more than double the quantity
of human food afforded by an acre of wheat.
The potatoe is perhaps the only root grown in
Britain which may be eaten every day in the
year without satiating the palate, and the same
thing can only be said of the West Indian yam,
and bread fruit. They are, therefore, the only
substitute that can be used for bread with any
degree of success, and indeed they often enter
largely into the composition of the best loaf
bread without at all injuring either its nutritive
qualities or flavor. In the answer by Dr. Tissot
to M. Linquet, the former objects to the constant
use of potatoes as food, not because they are per-
nicious to the body, but because they hurt the
faculties of the mind. He owns that those who
eat maize, potatoes, or even millet may grow tall
and acquire a large size ; but doubts if any such
ever produced a literary work of merit.' Pota-
toe meal may be preserved for years closely
packed in barrels, or unground in the form of
slices ; these slices having been previously cook-
ed or dried by steam, as originally suggested by
Forsyth of Edinburgh. Some German philoso-
phers have also proposed to freeze the potatoe,
by which the feculous matter is separated from
the starch, and the latter, being then dried and
compressed, may be preserved for any length of
time, or exported with ease to any distance.
(Annalen des Ackerbaues, vol. iii. s. 389).
Potatoes as food for live stock are often joined
with hay, straw, chaff, and other similar matters,
and have been found useful in many cases, es-
pecially in the later winter months, for horses,
cows, &c. With these substances, as well as in
combination with other materials, as bean or
barley-meal and pollard, they are also used in
the fattening of neat cattle, sheep, and hogs.
Potatoes are much more nutritive when boiled ;
they were formerly cooked in this way, but are
now very generally steamed, especially in the
north. The practice has been carried to the
greatest extent by Curwen in feeding horses.
He gives to each horse, daily, one and a half
stone of potatoes mixed with a tenth of cut straw :
120 stones of potatoes require two and a quarter
bushels of coals to steam them. An acre of
potatoes, he considers, goes as far in this way as
four of hay. VonTbaer found them, when given
to live-stock, produce more manure than any
other food : 100 Ibs. of potatoes producing sixty-
six pounds of manure of the very best descrip-
tion. The baking of potatoes in an oven has
also been tried with success (Comm. Board of
Agriculture, vol. iv.) ; but the process seems too
expensive. They are also given raw to stock of
every description, to horses and hogs washed,
but not washed to cows or oxen. Washing was
formerly a disagreeable and tedious business,
but is now rendered an easy matter, whether on
a large or small scale, by the use of the washing
machine.
3. CARROTS and PARSNIPS. — Of all roots a
carrot requires the deepest soil. It ought at
least to be a foot deep, all equally good from top
to bottom. If such a soil be not in the farm, it
may be made artificially by trench ploughing,
which brings to the surface what never had any
communication with the sun or air. When this
new soil is sufficiently improved by a crop or
two with dung, it is fit for bearing carrots. Beware
of dunging the year when the carrots are sown ;
for with fresh dung they seldom escape rotten
scabs. The only soils proper for carrrots are
loam and sand. The ground must be prepared
by the deepest furrow that can be taken, the
sooner after harvest the better ; immediately upon
the back of which, a ribbing ought to succeed, as
directed for barley. At the end of March, or begin-
ning of April, which is the time of sowing the
seed, the ground must be smoothed with a brake
Sow the seed in drills, with intervals of a foot
for hand-hoeing, where the crop is an acre or
two : but if the quantity of ground be greater, the
intervals ought to be three feet for horse-hoeing.
In flat ground without ridges, it is proper to make
parallel furrows jvith the plough, ten feet asun-
der to carry off redundant moisture. The for-
mer will often find carrots a very advantageous
crop ; instances are given of their excellence as
food for horses, cattle, and hogs.
The culture of PARSNIPS is much the same
with that of carrots.
SECT. III. — PLANTS CULTIVATED FOR LEAVES,
OR FOR LEAVES AND ROOTS.
The plants proper for the field of these kinds
are 'cabbage red and white, colewort plain and
curled, turnip-rooted cabbage, and the root of
scarcity.
1. CABBAGE is an interesting article in hus-
bandry. It is easily raised, is subject to few dis-
eases, resists frost more than turnips, is palatable
to cattle, and sooner fills them than turnips, car-
rots, or potatoes. The season for setting cabbage
depends on the use it is intended for. If intend-
ed for feeding in November, December, and
January, plants procured from seed sown the
end of July the preceding year must be set in
March or April. If intended for feeding in
March, April, and May, the plants must be set
the first week of the preceding July, from seed
sown in the end of February or beginning of
March the same year. The late setting of the
plants retards their growth ; by which means they
have a vigorous growth the following spring,
And this crop makes an important link in th«
chain that connects winter and summer green
food. Where cabbage for spring food is neglected,
a few acres of rye sown at Michaelmas will sup-
ply the want. After the rye is consumed there is
time sufficient to prepare the ground for turnips.
Where cabbage plants are to be set in March,
the field must be made up after harvest in ridges
120
RURAL ECONOMY.
three feet wide. In that form let it lie all winter
to be mellowed with air and frost. In March
take the first opportunity, between wet and dry,
to lay dung in the furrows. Cover the dune;
with a plough, which will convert the furrow into
a crown, and the crown into a furrow. Set the
plants upon the dung, three feet from each other.
Plant them so as to make a straight line cross
the ridges, and along the furrows, to which a
gardener's line stretched perpendicularly cross
the furrows will be requisite. This will set each
plant at the distance precisely of three feet from
the plants that surround it. The purpose of this
is to give opportunity for ploughing, not only
along the ridges, but across them. This mode
saves hand-hoeing, is a more complete dressing
to the soil, and lays earth neatly round every
plant. If the soil be deep and composed of
pood earth, a trench ploughing after the pre-
ceding crop will be proper ; in which case the
time for dividing the field into three feet ridges
ought immediately to precede the dunging for
the plants. If weeds rise so close to the plants
as not to be reached by the plough, destroy them
with a hand-hoe. Unless the soil be much in-
fested with annual weeds, twice ploughing after
the plants are set will be a sufficient dressing.
The first removes the earth from the plants ; the
next, at the distance of a month or so, lays it
back.
Where the plants are to be set in July, the
field must be ribbed as directed for barley. It
ought to have a slight ploughing in June before
the planting, to loosen the soil, but not so as to
bury the surface earth ; after which the three
feet ridges must be formed, and the other parti-
culars carried on as directed above with respect
to plants set in March.
2. As to the turnip-rooted cabbages, in the Bath
Society Papers we have the following account of
Sir Thomas Beevor's method of cultivating them,
which he found to be cheaper and better than
any other : — ' In the first or second week in
June I sow the same quantity of seed, hoe the
plants at the same size, leave them at the same
distance from each other, and treat them in all
respects like the common turnip. In this method
I have always obtained a plentiful crop of them ;
to ascertain the value of which I need only in-
form you that, oti the 23d of April last, having
then two acres left of my crop, sound, and in
good perfection, I divided them by fold hurdles
into three parts of nearly equal dimensions. Into
the first part I put twenty-four small bullocks of
about thirty stone weight each (fourteen pounds
to the stone), and thirty middle-sized fat wed-
ders, which, at the end of the first week, after
they had eaten down the greater part of the
leaves, and some part of the roots, I shified into
the second division, and then put seventy lean
sheen into what was left of the first ; these fed
off the remainder of the turnips left by the fat
stock ; and so they were shifted through the three
divisions, the lean stock following the fat as they
wanted food, until the whole was consumed.
The twenty-four bullocks and the thirty fat wed-
Mers continued in the turnips until the 2 1st of
M.iy. and the seventy lean sheep until the 29th,
ifhich is one day ovei four weeks; so that the
two acres kept me twenty-four small bullock*
and 110 sheep four weeks, not reckoning the
overplus day of keeping the lean sheep ; the
value, at the rate of keeping at that season, can-
not be estimated in any common year at less than
4rf. a week for each sheep, and Is. 6d. per week
for each bullock, which would amount together
to the sum of £14 10s. Qd. for the two acres.
' You will observe that, in the valuation o.
the crop above mentioned, I have claimed no
allowance for the great benefit the farmer receives
by being enabled to suffer his grass to get into a
forward growth, nor for the superior quality of
these turnips in fattening his stock ; both which
circumstances must stamp a new and a great
additional value upon them. But, as their con-
tinuance on the land may seem to be injurious
to the succeeding crop, to supply that loss I have
always sown buck-wheat on the first earth upon
the land from which the turnips were thus fed
off; allowing one bushel of seed per acre, for
whjch I commonly receive from five to six quar-
ters per acre in return. Thus you see that, in
providing a most incomparable vegetable food
for cattle, in that season of the year in which the
farmer is generally most distressed, and his cattls
almost starved, a considerable profit may like-
wise be obtained, much beyond what is usually
derived from his former practice, by the great
produce and price of a crop raised at so easy
an expense as that of the buck-wheat, which
with us sells commonly at the same price as
barley, oftentimes more, but very rarely for less.
The land on which I have usually sown turnip-
rooted cabbages is a dry mixed soil, worth 15s.
per acre.'
To the preceding account the Society have
subjoined the following note : — ' Whether we
regard the importance of the subject, or the clear
and practical information which the foregoing
letter conveys, it may be considered as truly in-
teresting as any we have ever been favored with :
and therefore it is recommended in the strongest
manner to farmers in general, that they adopt a
mode of practice so decisively ascertained to be
in a high degree judicious and profitable.'
To raise the turnip-rooted cabbage for trans-
planting, the best method yet discovered i* to
breast-plough and burn as much old pasture as
may be judged necessary for the seed-bed: two
perches well stocked with plants will be suffi-
cient to plant an acre. The land should be cluij
as shallow as possible, turning the ashes in ; ami
the seed should be sown the beginning of April.
The land to be cultivated and dunged as the
common turnip. About midsummer will be a
proper lime for planting, which is best done as
follows : — The land to be thrown into one-bout
ridges, upon the tops of which the plants are to
be set, about eighteen inches from each other.
As soon as the weeds rise give a hand-hoeing,
afterwards run the ploughs in the intervals, and
fetch a furrow from each ridge, which, after lym^
two or three weeks, is a,fain thrown back to the
ridges ; if the weeds rise again give them ano-
ther hand-hoeing. If the young plants in the
seed-bed be attacked by the fly, sow wood-ashes
over them when the dew is <m which 'will pre-
vent their ravages
RURAL ECONOMY.
121
3. The mangel wurtzel, or ROOT OF SCARCITY,
beta cicla (see BETA), delights in a rich loamy
land well dunged. It is directed to be sown in
rows, or broad-cast, and as soon as the plants
are of the size of a goose-quill, to be transplanted
in rows of eighteen inches distance, and eighteen
inches apart, one plant from the other : care
must be taken in the sowing to sow very thin,
and to cover the seed, which lies in the ground
about a month, an inch only. In transplanting
the root is not to be shortened, but the leaves
cut at the top ; the plant is then to be planted
with a setting stick, so that the upper part of the
root shall appear about half an inch out of the
ground ; this last precaution is necessary to be at-
tended to. These plants will strike root in twenty-
four hours, and a man will plant with ease 1800
or 2000 a day. In the seed-bed the plants, like
all others, must be kept clear of weeds : when
planted out, after once hoeing, they will suffocate
«very kind of weed near them.
The best time to sow the seed is from the be-
ginning of March to the middle of April : but
some continue sowing every month until the be-
ginning of July, to have a succession of plants.
Both leaves and roots have been extolled as ex-
cellent both for man and beast. This plant is
said not to be liable, like the turnip, to be
destroyed by insects ; for no insect touches it,
nor is it affected by excessive drought, or the
•changes of seasons. Horned cattle, horses, pigs,
and poultry, are exceedingly fond of it when
cut small. The leaves may be gathered every
twelve or fifteen days ; they are from thirty to
forty inches long, by twenty-two to twenty-five
inches broad. This plant is excellent for milch
cows, when given to them in proper proportions,
as it adds much to the quality as well as quantity
of their milk ; but care must be taken to propor-
tion the leaves with other green food, otherwise
it would abate the milk, and fatten them too
much, they being of so exceedingly fattening a
quality.
4. OFTARES. — The common tare is d istinguished
into the winter and spring tare, probably the
same original plant ; but a material difference
has been superinduced by cultivation. (Annals of
Agriculture, vol. ii). The winter tare escapes in-
jury from frosts, which destroy the spring variety :
the difference in the seeds is, however, so incon-
siderable, as to be scarcely distinguished ; but
' the winter-tare vegetates with a seed leaf of a
fresh green color, whereas the spring tare comes
up with a grassy spear of a brown dusky hue.' —
Dickson's Practical Agriculture.
The winter variety is sown in September and
October, and the first sowing in spring ought to
be early. If they are to be cut green for soiling
throughout the summer and autumn, which is
the most advantageous method of consuming
them, successive sowings should follow till the
end of May. The quantity of seed to an acre
is from two bushels and a half to three bushels
and a half, according to the time of sowing, and
as they are to be consumed green or left to stand
for a crop.
Tares are in some places eaten on the ground,
particularly by sheep : and, as the winter sown
variety comes early, the value of this food is then
very considerable. The waste, however, in this
way, even though the sheep be confined in hur-
dles, is great : and still greater when consumed
by horses or cattle. But if the plants be cut
green, and given to stock either on the field or in
the fold-yards, there is perhaps no green crop
of greater value.
A little rye sown with winter tares, and a few
oats with the spring sort, serve to support their
weak stems, and add to the bulk of the crop.
There is little difference in the culture of tares
and peas ; they are often sown broad-cast, but
sometimes in rows, with intervals to admit of
hand-hoeing. The land ought to be rolled as a
preparation ; and they should always be cut with
the scythe, rather than a sickle. When thus cut
with the scythe, even an early spring sown crop
sometimes yields a weighty after crop. In those
districts where winter sown tares are found to
succeed, the ground may be cleared in time for
being sown with turnips, or dressed like a fallow
for wheat.
5. OF RAPE-SEED. — Rape is cultivated to a
large extent in Great Britain, not only for the
sake of the oil, but also for feeding sheep. The late
Mr. Culley of Northumberland gives the following
account of its culture, founded on his own prac-
tice : —
' Rape may be sown from the 24th of May to
the 8th of June : but comes to the greatest
growth if sown in May. If sown earlier it is
apt to run to seed. From two to three pounds
of seed is required per acre, sown by a common
turnip-seed drill. But, as rape-seed is so much
larger than turnip-seed, the drill should be
wider. When hoed the rape should be set out
at the same distance as turnip plants. The drills
should be from twenty-six to twenty-eight or
thirty inches, according to the quantity of dung
given. As many ploughings, harrowings, and
rollings, &c., should be given, as may be neces-
sary to make that kind of poor soil as fine as
possible, and cleared of twitch, &c. : the pro-
duce will be from twenty-five to even fifty tons
per acre, or upwards. But it is not so much the
value of the green crop (though the better the
green crop, the better will the wheat be) as the
great certainty of a valuable crop of wheat, that
merits attention. The sheep are put on from the
beginning to the middle of August ; they must
have the rape consumed by the middle, or at
latest by the end of September, so that the wheat
may be got sown, on such poor damp soils, be-
fore the autumnal rains take place. The number
of sheep must depend on the goodness or bad-
ness of the crop. But as many sheep must be
employed as vo eat the rape by the middle of
September, or end of that month at the latest,
for the reasons formerly given. The Burwell
red wheat (so called from a village in Cambridge-
shire) is always preferred Poor clays will not
allow deep ploughing, consequently that opera-
tion must be governed by the depth of the soil.
The land must be made as clean as any naked
fallow. There is scarcely an instance known of
a crop of wheat sown after rape, and eat off
with sheep, being mildewed, and the grain is
generally well perfected. Mr. Culley has known
a crop of wheat after rape, upon a poor moorisn
122
RURAL ECONOMY.
thin clay soil,worth much more than the fee-simple
of the land that produced it. He has frequently
known land, both after rape and after naked fal-
low, in the same field ; and invariably the rape-
wheat was better in every respect than that after
naked fallow.' — Husbandry of Scotland, vol. ii.
appendix, p. 45.
OF THE CULTURE OF GRASSES.
The end of August or the beginning of Sep-
tember is the best season for sowing grass-seeds,
as there is time for the roots of the young plants
to fix themselves before the sharp frosts set in.
Moist weather is best for sowing ; the earth being
then warm, the seeds vegetate immediately ; but
if this season proves unfavorable, they will do
very well in the middle of March.
Never sow on foul land ; plough it well, and
clear it from the roots of couch-grass, rest-har-
row, fern, broom, and all other noxious weeds.
If these are suffered to remain they will soon
destroy the young grass. Rake these up in
heaps, burn them on the land, and spread the
ashes as a manure. Repeat the ploughings and
harrowings in dry weather. If the soil be clayey
and wet make some drains to carry off the water.
Before sowing lay the land as level as possible.
If the grass seeds 'are clean, three bushels will
be sufficient per acre. When sown, harrow it in
gently, and roll it in with a wooden roller. When
it comes up, fill up all the bare spots with fresh
seed, which, if rolled to fix it, will soon come
up and overtake the rest. In Norfolk they sow
clover with their grasses, particularly with rye-
grass ; but this should not be done except when
the land is designed for grass only three 'or four
years, because neither of these kinds will last
long in the lands. Where you intend it for a
continuance it is better to mix only small white
Dutch clover, or marl grass with other grass seed,
and not above eight pounds to an acre. These
are abiding plants, spread close on the surface,
and make the sweetest feeding for cattle. In
spring root up thistles, hemlock, or any large
weeds that appear. The doing this while the
ground is soft enough to permit drawing by the
roots, and before they seed, will save a vast deal
of trouble afterwards.
A common method of laying down fields to
grass is extremely injudicious. Some sow barley
with the grasses, which, they suppose to be use-
ful in shading them, without considering how
much the corn draws away the nourishment.
Others take their seeds from a foul hay-rick ; by
which means, besides filling the land with rubbish
and weeds, what they intend for dry soils may
have come from moist, where it grew naturally,
and vice versa. The consequence is that the
ground, instead of being covered with a good
thick sward, is filled with plants unnatural to it.
The kinds of grass most eligible for pasture lands
are, the annual meadow, creeping, and fine bent,
the fox-tail, and crested dog's tail, the poas, the
fescues, the vernal, oat-grass, and the rye-grass.
We do not, however, approve of sowing all these
kinds together; for besides their ripening at dif-
ferent times, by which we can never cut them all
in perfection and full vigor, no cattle are fond of
all alike. Horses will scarcely eat hay which oxen
and cows will thrive upon ; sheep are particu
larly fond of some kinds, and refuse others. The
darnel-grass, if not cut before several of the other
kinds are ripe, becomes so hard and wiry in the
stalks, that few cattle eat it. Such as wish for a
particular account of the above-mentioned
grasses, will be amply gratified in consulting Mr.
Stillingfleet on this subject, who has treated it
with great judgment and accuracy. The sub-
stance of his observations is given in our article
GRASS.
The grasses commonly sown for pasture, for
hay, or to be cut green for cattle, are red clover,
white clover, yellow clover, rye-jjrass, narrow-
leaved plantain called ribwort, saintfoin and lu-
cerne. Red clover is of all the most proper to be
cut green for summer food. It is a biennial plant
when suffered to perfect its seed ; but, when cut
green, it will last three years, and in a dry soil
longer. At the same time the safest course is to
let it stand but a single year ; if the second year's
crop happen to be scanty, it proves, like a bad
crop of pease, a great encourager of weeds by
the shelter it affords them. Here, as in all other
crops, the goodness of seed "is of importance.
Choose plump seed of a purple color, because it
takes on that color when ripe. It is red when
hurt in the drying, and of a faint color when un-
ripe.
Red clover is luxuriant upon a rich soil, whe-
ther clay, loam, or gravel : it will grow even
upon a moor, when properly cultivated. A wet
soil is its only bane. To have red clover in
perfection, weeds must be extirpated, and stones
taken off. The mould ought to be made as fine
as a harrowing can make it ; and the surface
smoothed with a light roller. This gives an op-
portunity for distributing the seed evenly ; which
must be covered by a small harrow with teeth not
larger than that of a garden rake. In harrowing,
the man should walk behind with a rope in his
hand fixed to the back part of the harrow, ready
to disentangle it from stones, clods, turnip or cab-
bage roots, which would trail the seed, and dis-
place it.
No precise depth is necessary for the seed
of red clover. It will grow vigorously from two
inches deep, and it will grow when barely co-
vered. Half an inch may be reckoned the most
advantageous position in a clay soil, a whole inch
in what is light or loose. It is a vulgar
error that small seed ought to be sparingly
covered. Misled by it, farmers cover their
clover seed with a bushy branch of thorn,
which not only covers it unequally, but leaves
part on the surface to wither in the air. The
proper season for sowing red clover is from the
middle of April to the middle of May. It will
spring from the first of March to the end of Au-
gust; but such liberty ought not to be taken.
There cannot be a greater blunder in husbandry
than to be sparing of seed. Some writers talk
of sowing an acre with four pounds. That
quantity of seed, say they, will fill an acre with
plants as thick as they ought to stand. This rule
may be admitted as to grain, but will notanswer
witli respect to grass. Grass seed cannot be
sown too thick : the plants shelter one another ;
they retain all the dew ; and they must push for-
RURAL ECONOMY.
123
ward, having no room laterally. Observe the
place where a sack of pease, or of other grain,
has been set down for sowing : the seed dropped
there accidentally grows more quickly than in
the rest of the field sown thin out of hand. A
young plant of clover, or of sainfoin, according
to Tull, may be raised to a great size where it
has room ; but the field will not produce
half the quantity. When red clover is sown for
cutting green, there ought not to be less than
twenty-four pounds to an acre. A field of clover
is seldom too thick ; the smaller the stem, the
more acceptable it is to cattle. It is often too
thin ; and when so the stem tends to wood.
Red clover is commonly sown with grain ; and
the most proper grain is flax. The soil must be
highly cultivated for flax as well as for red
clover. The proper season for sowing is the
same for both ; the leaves of flax, being very
small, admit of free circulation of air; and flax
being an early crop is removed so early as to
give the clover time for growing. In a rich soil
it has grown so fast as to afford a good cutting
that very year. Next to flax, barley is the best
companion to clover. The soil must be loose and
free for barley ; as well as for clover : the season
for sowing is the same ; and the clover is well
established in the ground before it is overtopped
by the barley. At the same time, barley com-
monly is sooner cut than either oats or wheat.
When clover is sown in spring upon wheat, the
soil, which has lain five or six months without
being stirred, is an improper bed for it ; and the
wheat, being in the vigor of growth, overtops it
from the beginning. It cannot be sown along
with oats, because of the hazard of frost ; and
when sown as usual among the oats three inches
high, it is overtopped, and never enjoys free air
till the oats be cut. Where oats are sown upon
the winter furrow, the soil is rendered as hard
as when under wheat. Red clover is sometimes
sown by itself without other grain : but this me-
thod, besides losing a crop, is not salutary; be-
rause clover in its infant state requires shelter.
As to the quantity of grain proper to be sown
with clover, in a rich soil well pulverised, a
peck of barley on an English acre is all that
ought to be ventured ; but there is not so much
soil in Scotland so rich. Two Linlithgow
firlots make the proper quantity for an acre that
produces six bolls of barley; half a firlot for
what produces nine bolls. To some, so small a
quantity may appear ridiculous. But a rich
soil in good order, will, from a single seed of
barley, produce twenty or thirty vigorous stems.
The culture of white clover, yellow clover,
ribwort, and rye-grass, is the same in general
with that of red clover. Yellow clover, ribwort,
and rye-grass, are all early plants, blooming in
the end of April or beginning of May. The two
latter are evergreens, and therefore excellent for
winter pasture. Rye-grass is less hurt by frost
than any of the clovers, and will thrive in a moister
soil : nor is it much affected by drought. In a
rich soil it grows four feet high. These grasses
are generally sown with red clover for producing
a plentiful crop. The proportion of seed is ar-
bitrary ; and there is little danger of too much.
When rye-grass is sown for procuring seed, five
firlots wheat measure may be sown on an acre ; and.
for procuring seed of rib-wort, forty pounds may
be sown. The roots of rye-grass spread hori-
zontally : they bind the soil by their number ;
and, though small, are yet so vigorous as to thm e
in hard soil. Red clover has a large tap-roo
which cannot penetrate any soil but what is open
and free ; and the largeness of the root makes
the soil still more open and free. Rye-grass,
once a great favorite, appears to be discarded in
most parts of Britain. The common practice
has been to sow it with red clover, and to cut
them promiscuously in the beginning of June for
green food, and a little later for hay. This in-
deed is the proper season for cutting red clover,
because it then begins to flower; but, as the seed
of the rye-grass is then approaching to maturity,
its growth is stopped for that year, as much as of
oats or barley cut after the seed is ripe. Oats or
barley cut green before the seed forms, will afford
two other cuttings ; which is the case of rye-
grass, of yellow clover, and of ribwort. By such
management, all the profit will be drawn that
these plants can afford.
When red clover is intended for seed, the
ground ought to be cleared of weeds, as the seed
cannot otherwise be preserved pure : what seeds
escape the plough ought to be taken out by the
hand. In England, when a crop of seed is in-
tended, the clover is always first cut for hay.
This practice will not answer in Scotland, as the
seed would often be too late for ripening. It
would do better to eat the clover by sheep till
the middle of May, which would allow the seed
to ripen. The seed is ripe when, upon rubbing
it between the hands, it parts readily from the
husk. Then apply the scythe, spread the crop
thin, and turn it carefully. When perfectly dry,
take the first hot day for threshing it on boards
covered with a coarse sheet. Another way, less
subject to risk, is to stack the dry hay, and to
thresh it in the end of April. After the first
threshing, expose the husks to the sun ; and
thresh them till no seed remain. Nothing is more
efficacious than a hot day to make the husk part
with its seed ; in which view it may be exposed
to the sun by parcels, in an hour or two before
the flail is applied.
White clover, intended for seed, is managed in
the same manner. No plant ought to be mixed
with rye-grass that is intended for seed. In
Scotland much rye-grass seed is hurt by trans-
gressing that rule. The seed is ripe when it
parts easily with the husk. The yellowness 01
the stem is another indication of its ripeness ;
in which particular it resembles oats, barley, and
other culmiferous plants. The best manner to
manage a crop of rye-grass, for seed, is to bind it
loosely in small sheaves, widening them at the bot-
tom to. make them stand erect; as is done with
oats in moist weather. In that state they may stand
till sufficiently dry for threshing. They thus dry
more quickly, and are less hurt by rain, than by
close binding and putting the sheaves in shocks
like corn. The worst way of all is to spread the
rye-grass on the moist ground ; for it makes the
seed malten. The sheaves, when sufficiently dry,
are carried in close carts to where they are to be
threshed on a l>oard, a> mentioned above for
124
RURAL ECONOMY.
clover. Put the straw in a rick when 100 stone
or so are threshed. Carry the threshing board
to the place where another rick is intended;
and so on till the whole seed is threshed, and the
straw ricked. There is necessity for close carts
to save the seed which is apt to drop out in a
hot day ; and a hot day ought always to be
chosen for threshing. Carry the seed in sacks to
the granary or barn, to be separated from the
husks by a fanner. Spread the seed thin upon a
timber floor, and turn it once or twice a-day till
perfectly dry. If suffered to take a heat, it is
useless for seed.
The writers on agriculture reckon sainfoin
preferable to clover in many respects . they say
that it produces a larger crop ; that it does not
hurt cattle when eaten green ; that it makes bet-
ter hay ; that it continues four times longer in the
ground ; and that it will grow on land that will
bear no other crop. Sainfoin has a very long
tap-root, which is able to pierce very hard earth.
The roots grow very large ; and the larger they
are, they penetrate to the greater depth ; and
hence this grass, when it thrives well, receives a
great part of its nourishment from below the
staple of the soil : of course, a deep dry soil is
best for sainfoin. When plants draw their nou-
rishment from that part of the soil that is near the
surface, it is not of much consequence whether
their number be great or small. But the case is
very different when the plants receive their food,
not only near, but also deep below the surface.
Besides, plants that shoot their roots deep are of-
ten supplied with moisture, when those near the
surface are parched with drought.
To render the plants of sainfoin vigorous, they
must be sown thin. The best method of doing
this is by a drill ; because, when sown in this
manner, not only the weeds, but also the super-
numerary plants, can easily be removed. It is
several years before sainfoin comes to its full
strength ; and the number of plants sufficient to
stock a field, while in this imperfect state, will
make but a poor crop for the first year or two.
It is therefore necessary that it be sown in such
a manner as to make it easyito take up plants in
such numbers, and in such order, as always to
leave in the field the proper number in their pro-
per places. This can only be done with propriety
by sowing the plants in rows by a drill. Sup-
posing a field to be drilled in rows at ten inches
distance, the partitions may be hand-hoed, and
the rows dressed in such a manner as to leave a
proper number of plants. In this situation the
field may remain two years ; then one-fourth of
the rows may be taken out in pairs, in such a
manner as to make the beds of fifty inches, with
six rows in each, and intervals of thirty inches,
which may be ploughed. Next year another
fourth of the rows may be taken out in the same
manner, so as to leave double rows, with parti-
tions of ten inches, and intervals of thirty ; all
of which may be hoed at once or alternately, as
may be most convenient.
The great quantity of this grass which the
writers on this subject assure us may be raised
upon an acre, and the excellency and great value
of the hay made of it, should induce farmers to
make a complete trial of it. The plants taken
up from a field of sainfoin may be set in another
fi=>U ; and if the transplanting of the grass suc-
ceeds as well as the transplanting of lucerne has
done with Mr. Lunin de Chateauvieux, the trou-
ble and expense will be sufficiently recompensed
by the largeness of the crops. In transplanting,
it IF necessary to cut off great part of the long
tap-ioot : this will prevent it from striking very
deep into the soil, and make it push out laige
roots in a sloping direction from the cut end of
the tap-root. Sainfoin managed in this manner
will thrive even on shallow land that has a wet
bottom, provided it be not overstocked with
plants. Whoever inclines to try the culture of
this grass in Scotland, should take great pains in
preparing the land, and making it as free from
weeds as possible. In England, as the roots
strike deep in that chalky soil, this plant is not
liable to be so much injured by drought as other
grasses are, whose fibres lie horizontally, and lie
near the surface. The quantity of hay produced
is greater and better in quality than any other.
But there is one advantage attending this grass,
which renders it superior to any other ; viz. that
it affords excellent feeding for milch cows. The
prodigious increase of milk which it makes is
astonishing, being nearly double that produced
by any other green food. The milk is also bet-
ter, and yields more cream than any other ; and the
butter procured from it is much better colored
and flavored.
The following remarks by an English farmer
are made from much experience and observation.
Sainfoin is much cultivated in those parts where
the soil is of a chalky kind. It will always suc-
ceed well where the roots run deep ; the worst
soil of all for it is where there is a bed of cold
wet clay, which the tender fibres cannot pene-
trate. It will make a greater increase of pro-
duce, by at least thirty times, than common grass
or turf on poor land. Where it meets with chalk
or stone, it will extend its roots through the
cracks and chinks to a very great depth, in search
of nourishment. The dryness is of more conse-
quence than the richness of land for sainfoin ; al-
though land that is both dry and rich will always
produce the largest crops. It is very commonly
sown broad-cast ; but it answers best in drills,
especially if the land be made fine by repeated
ploughing, rolling, and harrowing. Much de-
pends on the depth which this seed is sown. If
it be buried more than an inch deep, it will sel-
dom grow ; and, if left uncovered, it will push
out its roots above ground, and these will be
killed by the air. March and the beginning of
April are the best seasons for sowing it, as the
severity of winter and the drought of summer
are equally unfavorable to the young plants. A
bushel of seed sown broad-cast, or half that quan-
tity in drills, if good, is sufficient for an acre.
The drill should be thirty inches apart, to
admit of horse-hoeing between them. Much
depends on the goodness of the seed, which may
however, be best judged of by the following
marks : —
The husk being of a bright color, the kernel
plump, of a gray or bluish color without, and,
if cut across, greenish and fresh withinside; if it
be thin and furrowed, and of a yellowish cast, it
will seldom grow. When the plants stand sin-
gle, and have room to spread, they produce the
RURAL ECONOMY.
126
greatest quantity of herbage, and the seed ripens
oest. But farmers in general plant them so close
that they choke and impoverish each other, and
often die in a few years. Single plants run deepest
and draw most nourishment; they are also
easiest kept free from weeds. A single plant
will often produce half a pound of hay, when
dry. On rich land this plant will yield two
good crops in a year, with a moderate share of
culture. A good crop must not be expected the
first year ; but, if the plants stand not too thick,
they will increase in size the second year prodi-
giously. No cattle should be turned on the
field the first winter after the corn is off with
which it was sown, as their feet would injure the
young plants. Sheep should not come on the
following summer, because they would bite off
the crown of the plants, and prevent their shoot-
ing again. A small quantity of soapers' ashes as
a top-dressing will be of great service, if laid on
the first winter.
If the sainfoin be cut just before it comes into
bloom, it is admirable food for horned cattle ;
and, if cut thus early, it will yield a second crop
the same season. But, if it proves a wet season,
it is better to let it stand till its bloom be per-
fected ; for great care must be taken, in making
it into hay, that the flowers do not drop off, as
cows are very fond of them ; and it requires
more time than other hay in drying. Sainfoin
is so excellent a fodder for horses, that they re-
quire no oats while they eat it, although they
be worked hard all the time. Sheep will also be
fattened with it faster than with any other food.
If the whole season for cutting proves very rainy,
it is better to let the crop stand for seed, as that
will amply repay the loss of the hay ; because it
will not only fetch a good price, but a peck of
it will go as far as a peck and a half of oats for
horses. The best time of cutting the seeded
sainfoin is when the greatest part of this seed is
well filled, the first blowing ripe, and the last
blowing beginning to open. For want of this
care some people have lost most of their seed by
letting it stand too ripe. Seeded sainfoin should
always be cut in a morning or evening, when
the dews render the stalks tender. If cut when
the sun shines hot, much of the seed will fall out
and be lost.
An acre of very ordinary land, when improved
by this grass, will maintain four cows very well
from the 1st of April to the end of November ;
and afford, besides, a sufficient store of hay to
make the greater part of their food the four
months following. If the soil be tolerably good,
a field of sainfoin will last from fifteen to twenty
years in prime ; but, at the end of seven or eight
years, it will be necessary to lay on a moderate
coat of well rotted dung ; or, if the soil be very
ligkt and sandy, of marie. The future crops,
and the duration of the plants in health and vigor,
will thus be greatly increased and prolonged.
Hence it will appear that, for poor land, there is
nothing equal to this grass in point of advantage
to tne farmer. Clover will last only two years
:n perfection ; and often, if the soil be cold and
moist, nearly half the plants 'will rot, and bald
patcnes be found in every part of the field the
secono. year. Besides, from our frequent rains
during September, many crops left for feeding
are lost. But from the quantity and excellent
quality of sainfoin, and its ripening earlier, and
continuing in vigor so much longer, much risk and
expense is avoided, and a large annual profit
accrues to the farmer.
The writers on agriculture, ancient as well as
modern, bestow the highest encomiums upon lu-
cerne as affording excellent hay, and producing
very large crops. Lucerne remains at least ten or
twelve years in the ground, and produces about
eight tons of hay upon the Scots acre. There is
but little of it cultivated in Scotland. However,
it has been tried in several parts of that country •
and it is found that, when the seed is good, it
comes up very well, and stands the winter frost.
But the chief thing whicn prevents this grass
from being more used in Scotland is the difficulty
of keeping the soil open and free from weeds
lu a few years the surface becomes so hard, and
the turf so strong, that it destroys the lucerne
before the plants have arrived at their greatest
perfection ; so that lucerne can scarcely be culti-
vated with success there, unless some method be
fallen upon of destroying the natural grass, and
preventing the surface from becoming hard and
impenetrable. This cannot be done effectually by
any other means than horse-hoeing. This method
was first proposed by Tull, and afterwards prac-
tised successfully by M. de Chateauvieux. That
gentleman tried the sowing of lucerne both in
rows upon the beds where it was intended to
stand, and likewise the sowing it in a nursery,
and afterwards transplanting it into the beds
prepared for it. He prefers transplanting ; be-
cause part of the tap-root is thus cut off, and the
plant shoots out a number of lateral branches
from the cut part of the root, which makes it
spread its roots nearer the surface, and conse-
quently renders it more easily cultivated ; besides,
this circumstance adapts it to a shallow soil, ia
which, if left in its natural state, it would not
grow. This transplanting is attended with many
advantages. The land may be prepared in sum-
mer for receiving the plants from the nursery in
autumn ; by which means the field must be ia a
much better situation than if the seed had been
sown upon it in the spring. By transplanting, the
rows can be made more regular, and the intend-
ed distances more exactly observed ; and con-
sequently the hoeing can be performed more
perfectly, and with less expense. M. Chateau-
vieux likewise tried the lucerne in single beds
three feet wide, with single rows ; in beds three
feet nine inches wide, with double rows ; and in
beds four feet three inches wide, with triple rows.
The plants in the single rows were six inches asun-
der, and those in the double and triple rows were
about eight or nine inches. In a course of three
years he found that a single row produced more
than a triple row of the same length. The plants
of lucerne, when cultivated by transplantation,
should be at least six inches asunder, to allow
them room for extending their crowns.
He further observes that the beds or ridges
ought to be raised in the middle ; that a small
trench, two or three inches deep, should be drawn
in the middle ; and that the plants ought to be
set in this trench, covered with earth up to the
RURAL ECONOMY.
neck. He says that if the lucerne be sown in
spring, and in a warm soil, it will be ready for
transplanting in September ; that, if the weather
be too hot and dry, the transplanting should be
delayed till October ; and tbat, if the weather be
unfavorable during both these months, this opera-
tion must be delayed till spring. He further directs
that the plants should be carefully taken out of the
nursery, so as not to damage the roots ; that the
roots be left only about six or seven inches long;
that the green crops be cut off within about two
inches of the crown ; that they be put into \vater
as soon as taken up, and remain till they are
planted ; and that they should be planted with a
planting-stick, in the same manner as cabbages.
He does not give particular directions as to the
times of horse-hoeing ; but only says, in general,
that the intervals should be stirred once in the
month during the whole time that the lucerne
is in a growing state. He likewise observes that
great care ought to be taken not to suffer any
weeds to grow among the plants, at least for the
first two or three years ; and, for this purpose,
that the rows, as well as the edges of the inter-
vals where the plough cannot go, should be
weeded by the hand.
Burnet is peculiarly adapted to poor land, it
proves an excellent winter pasture when hardly
any thing else vegetates. It makes good butter;
it never swells cattle ; it is fine pasture for sheep ;
and will flourish well on poor, light, sandy, or
stony soils, or even on dry chalk hills. The cul-
tivation of it is neither hazardous nor expensive.
If the land is prepared as is generally done for
turnips, there is no danger of its failing. After
the first year, it will be attended with very little
expense, as the flat circular spread of its leaves
will keep down, or prevent the growth of weeds.
On the failure of turnips, either from the fly or
black worm, some of our farmers have sown the
land with burnet, and in March following had
a fine pasture for their sheep and lambs. It will
perfect its seed twice in a summer ; and this seed
is said to be as good as oats for horses ; but it is
too valuable to be applied to that use. It is some-
times sown late in the spring, with oats and bar-
ley, and succeeds very well ; but it is best to
sow it singly in the beginning of July, when
there is a prospect of rain, on a small piece of
land, and in October following transplant it in
rows two feet apart, and about a foot distant in
rows. This is a proper distance, and gives op-
portunity for hoeing the intervals in the succeed-
ing spring and summer. After it is eaten down
by cattle, it should be harrowed clean. Some
horses will not eat it freely at first, but in two or
three days they are generally very fond of it. It
affords rich pleasant milk, and in great plenty.
The severest frost never injures it, and the oft-
ener it is fed upon, the thicker are its leaves,
which spring constantly from its root.
PART II.
OF THE GRAZING SYSTEM.
Grazing, in a large sense, will comprehend the
entire management of grass lands. These are ob-
viously divided into meadows, or such perennial
grass lands as are usually kept for a hay crop,
and permanent pastures. The importance of
some system for their proper management being
adopted will appear from the consideration that
by far the greater part of the land of Great
Britain is included in one or other of these
descriptions. See MEADOW.
Of the culture of meadows. — The most luxuriant
and valuable meadows are found in the bottom of
valleys, and connected with one or more rivers
of the neighbourhood : often indeed the entire
growing soil has been washed down from adjoin-
ing highlands. This, of all other land, observe
the Agricultural Reports of Staffordshire, is ' the
most productive of grass and hay, yielding suste-
nance for cattle through the summer and the
winter, and producing an everlasting source of
manure for the improvement of the adjoining
lands. In all cases of extensive enclosures, the
improvement of the vale land, or that formed by
nature for meadow and pasture, should be first
attended to. In this view, the low lands in all
situations come under the head of natural mea-
dows. But river or low meadows, from their
long retention of moisture, and the great depth
of vegetable matter which they contain, are cer-
tainly liable to throw up coarse herbage ; in many
cases therefore more careful drainage, as well as
other management, is necessary to bring them into
proper condition for the growth of good herbage
than is requisite in the hay grounds in more ele-
vated places. The most proper season for sur-
face-draining grass lands is autumn, when they
are comparatively firm and dry ; in the early
spring months such lands are too full of mois-
ture. The grips, or small open drains, should
be cut obliquely in the most suitable directions
for conveying off the superficial stagnant water.
' It is a practice, in some cases, to suffer the sods
or grippings that are taken out of the trenches
to remain on their sides ; but it is much better,
and a less slovenly mode, to have them con-
veyed from the land and laid up in heaps, in
order to their being acted upon by the winter
frosts and other causes, so as to be brought into
a state proper for being formed into composts
with well rotted farm-yard dung. Much of this
sort of draining may be performed at a small
expense, and the beneficial effects be very con-
siderable, especially where the lands are very
much loaded with moisture, in the quantity of
produce.' Besides, such meadow lands ' de-
mand much more attention in their management
in other respects, as those of their being fed by
cattle, and the performing of the different opera-
tions that are proper for rendering them produc-
tive of good herbage. In these cases stock
should be turned upon the lands, and manure-
be applied \vith much care, and only when the
land is in such a state of dryness as not to be in-
jured by the poaching or breaking of the sward.
The higher sorts of grass lands, in most instances,
admit of considerably more latitude in perform-
ing these different operations, as they are capable
of admitting the stock, as well as the dung-cart,
more early in the spring months, and of suffering
them to remain or be applied at later periods in
the autumn without inconvenience. The advan-
tage of this attention is rendered sufficiently
plain by the effects which the contrary practice
produces in such meadow and other hay lands
as are in a state of commonage, where the stock
RURAL ECONOMY.
127
is admitted at all seasons, and under all circum-
stances.'
' In apiece of clayey meadow land/ mentioned
in the Agricultural Report of Middlesex, ' which
was exposed to the treading of cattle during the
wet season of winter, with a view of fully ascer-
taining the effects of the practice of suffering
cattle to remain too long upon grass hay lands,
it was found that after three years, notwithstand-
ing every possible care and attention in rolling,
manuring, and sowing grass seeds, was employed,
it was not restored to its former state of sward.'
And it is said that, on the deep tough yellow
clayey grass lands in this district, ' it is well
known that wherever a bullock makes a hole
with his foot, it holds water, and totally destroys
every vestige of herbage ; which is not quite re-
placed till several years after the hole is grown
up.' Bog-meadows are drained and managed in
a similar manner with other low meadows.
The upland meadows of Middlesex yield also
some fine hay crops ; being so well situated for
receiving the manure of the metropolis. Here
moss, mole-hills, and ant-hills, are the great ene-
mies of the farmer : and the destruction of the
latter is often a process of no small difficulty.
It is said that where grass lands are sufficiently
rolled with a heavy roller, once or oftener every
year, no ant-hills will ever be formed greater
than the roller can compress, and consequently
no injury will be sustained. In this, as in most
other cases of disease, observes Mr. Loudon,
proper regimen is the best cure. ' In domestic
economy, various directions are given for destroy-
ing bugs, lice, and other vermin ; but who ever
had any to destroy, who attended properly to
cleanliness ?'
With regard to the application of manure, we
are told in the Middlesex Report, that almost all
the grass lands in the county are preserved for
hay, that the manure is invariably laid on in
October, while the land is sufficiently dry to
bear the driving of loaded carts without injury,
and when the heat of the day is so moderated as
not to exhale the volatile parts of the dung.
Other agriculturists prefer applying it imme-
diately after hay-time, or from about the middle
of July to the end of August, said to be the
'good old time' (Cormnun. to Board of Agricul-
ture, vol. iv. p. 138); others again from the be-
ginning of February to the beginning of April
(Dickson's Practical Agriculture, vol. ii. p. 915).
' The dairy farmers in North Wiltshire,' ob-
serves Mr. Davies, and in particular the graziers,
are much more attentive to the quality than the
quantity of their hay. They make a point of
haining up their meadows as early as possible in
autumn, and of course are able to mow early in
the summer. It is not uncommon to see grass
mown, not only before it is in blossom, but even
before it is all in ear ; and to this it is owing that
it is more common to fat cattle with hay alone,
in North Wilts, than perhaps in any country in
the kingdom. And by this the dairy-men are
able to keep up the milk of those cows that calve
early, and from which calves are fatted, which
otherwise shrink before the springing of the
grass and never recover. And the advantage
they get by early after-grass, and by the duration
of that after-grass to a late period in autumn,
fully compensates for the loss of quantity in their
hay crop.'
Dr. Anderson says it is in general understood
that, if hay can be made so as to retain some
tinge of its green color, it is better than if it were
bleached white or rotted ; but precautions are
seldom thought necessary to be adopted for
guarding against the effects of scorching sun-
shine, which, by too quickly exhaling its natural
juices, renders it sticky, brittle, and unpalatable
to a certain degree ; and, what is of still more
importance, the effects of rain, or even dew if
abundant, if they are suffered to fall upon the
grass after it is cut, and before it be made into
hay, are seldom adverted to ; so that if dry
weather comes soon to exhale that wet, while the
grass lies spread out upon the ground, the
farmer feels little anxiety about the consequences ;
though it is a certain fact that no hay which has
been in the least wetted during the process of
hay-making can ever be made to have that sweet
palatable taste it would have had without it.
Nor has our author ever seen that beasts, when
allowed to choose between hay so made and
that which has been guarded from moisture,
ever hesitated to make choice of the last, or
committed a mistake, even where he himself
could not distinguish a perceptible difference.
But to obtain hay in all cases of the very best
quality the circumstances will admit of, the fol-
lowing process, he says, may be safely conjoined
with the practice of cutting and feeding beasts
with grass in the house as above recommended.
Where the produce of grass land is to be cut, as
above described, and used green, it will be pro-
per in general to reserve a part of it for hay.
In this case the cutting for grass and for hay
should be carried on together, but with the fol-
lowing variations, depending on the uses it is to
be applied to. That part of the grass which is
intended to be used green, as it will suffer no
damage by being cut when wet, must continue
to be cut regularly each day as it is wanted,
without regard to the weather; whereas that
part of it which is intended for hay ought on no
account to be cut while wet ; and, therefore, that
part of the operation must be discontinued, un-
less when the weather is dry and fine ; nor should
it ever be cut either in the morning or the even-
ing, while dew is upon it. And as the hay, in
the mode proposed, ought to be made day by
day, for a continuance, as the grass comes for-
ward for the scythe, while the weather is in a
proper state for it, and not all at one time, as in
the usual mode of hay-making, the cutting both
grass and hay from the same field may be very
economically combined together. For this pur-
pose the grass which is cut in the morninsr,
while the dew may perhaps be upon it, and in
the afternoon, ought to be appropriated to the
beasts gieen ; and that part of the grass only
which is cut from nine till two o'clock, while the
weather is dry and fine, should be made into
hay. If the mower begins to cut down for hay
about nine o'clock in the morning, and goes on
in that operation till one or two in the afternoon ;
and, if the persons who are to put up the hay
begin that operation about one, the grass will
RURAL ECONOMY.
thus be allowed to lie between three and four
hours in the swathe, exposed to the sun, which
will exhale some part of its moisture, and deaden
* enough for the purposes required, though it
Mill retains the whole of its nutritious juices
\vithout abatement. After being allowed to lie
thus long it should be raked clean up, and car-
ried off the field in the same cart that is em-
ployed for taking in the grass, and immediately
put into the stack, so as that the whole grass
that was cut that day shall be put up hjefore
evening; and thus regularly each good day
throughout the season. But as grass, while in
this green and succulent state, would not keep
if put up by itself, care must betaken to provide
some dry forage to mix with it. For this purpose
nothing can be so proper as good dry hay ; but,
for want of that, at the beginning, good straw
may be very safely employed. Our author once
saved a great quantity of clover hay, being a late
third cutting, when the season was too far ad-
vanced to admit of its being made in the usual
way, by putting it up when new cut, thus inter-
mixed with a large proportion of good straw. It
kept perfectly well; and, when cut down and
given to the beasts, was relished by them better
than any other hay he had, and was equally va-
luable for every purpose.
Every part of the management in Middlesex,
with regard to hay, has been acknowledged by
able judges to be very superior. When the
grass here is nearly fit for mowing, the farmer
generally lets it out to be mown by the acre ;
calculating that a healthy man will mow from
one and a-half to two acres a day, beginning
very early in the morning. He provides five
hay-makers to each mower, and they are ex-
pected to bring a fork and rake of their own.
The course of operations that now takes place is
thus described in the Middlesex Report : —
First day. — All the grass mown before nine
o'clock in the morning is tedded, in which great
care is taken thoroughly to loosen every lump,
and to strew it evenly over all the ground. By
this regular method of tedding grass for hay, the
hay will be of a more valuable quality, heat
more equally in the stack, consequently not so
liable to damage or fire ; will be of greater quan-
tity when cut into trusses, and will sell at a bet-
ter price ; for, when the grass is suffered to lie a
day or two before it is tedded out of the swathe,
the upper surface is dried by the sun and winds,
and the interior part is not dried, but withered,
so that the herbs lose much, both as to quality
and quantity, which are very material circum-
stances. Soon after the tedding is finished, the
hay is turned with the same degree of care and
attention: and if, frorr. the number of 'hands,
they are able to turn the whole again, they do so,
or at least as much of it as they can, till twelve
or one o'clock, at which time they dine. The
first thing to be done after dinner is to rake it
into what are called single wind-rows; and the
last operation of this day is to put it into grass-
cocks.
Second day. — The business of this day com-
mences with tedding all the grass that wa> mown
the first day after nine o'clock, and all thai was
mown this day before nine o'clock. Next, the
grass-cocks are to be well shaken out into stad-
dles (or separate plats) of five or six yards dia-
meter. If the crop should be so thin and light
as to leave the spaces between these staddles
rather large, such spaces must be immediately
raked clean, and the rakings mixed with the
other hay, in order to its all drying of a uniform
color. The next business is to turn the staddles,
and after that to turn the grass that was tedded
in the first part of the morning, once or twice,
in the manner described for the fiist day. This
should all be done before twelve or one o'clock,
so that the whole may lie to dry while the work-
people are at dinner. After dinner the first
thing to be done is to rake the staddles into
double wind-rows ; next, to rake the grass into
single wind-rows ; then the double wind-rows
are put into bastard-cocks ; and, lastly, the
wind-rows are put into grass-cocks. This com-
pletes the work of the second day.
Third day. — The grass mown and not spread
on the second day, and also that mown in the
early part of this day, is first to be tedded in the
morning, and then the grass-cocks are to be
spread into staddles as before, and the bastard-
cocks into staddles of less extent. These lesser
staddles, though last spread, are first turned,
then those which were in grass-cocks; and next
the grass is turned once or twice before twelve
or one o'clock, when the people go to dinner as
usual. If the weather has proved sunny and
fine, the hay which was last night in bastard-
cocks will this afternoon be in a proper state to
be carried ; but if the weather should, on the
contrary, have been cool and cloudy, no part of
it probably will be fit to carry. In that case the
first thing set about after dinner is to rake that
which was in grass-cocks last night into double
wind-rows ; then the grass which was this morn-
ing spread from the swathes into single wind-
rows. After this the hay which was last night
in bastard-cocks is made up into full-sized
cocks, and care taken to rake the hay up clean,
and also to put the rakings upon the top of each
cock. Next, the double wind-rows are put into-
bastard-cocks, and the single wind-rows into
grass-cocks, as on the preceding days.
Fourth day. — On this day the great cocks just
mentioned are usually carried before dinner.
The other operations of the day are such, and in
the same order, as before described, and are con-
tinued daily until the hay harvest is completed.
Of the culture of pastures. — Dr. Anderson,
in the third volume of his Essays on Agricul-
ture, has some practical remarks on pastures,
which we think worth perpetuating in our work :
— ' It is stated,' he says, ' in the Agricultural
Survey of Gloucestershire, that one acre of rye-
grass, which had been saved from Michaelmas
to May, kept nine ewes and lambs one month.
\\e may, therefore, he adds, conclude that the
produce of the same field, from May till Mi-
chaelmas, would have been double to that it
yielded during the winter half year; conse-
quently it could have sustained eighteen ewes
and lambs one month. At this rate the acre of
ground, ta, ng the whole year round, would
have afior eil food Tor twenty-seven ewes
and lambs for one month. These were large
RURAL ECONOMY.
129
sheep, weighing abovit twenty-five pounds per
quarter on the average. In the Survey of Wilt-
shire, it is said that 500 such ewes and lambs
are sufficient to dung an acre each day when
folded upon it ; at that rate, says the Dr., twenty-
seven of them should dung an acre in a little
less than nineteen days ; consequently, in thirty
days, somewhat better than half an acre more.
He is, however, inclined to think this would be
but a very moderate dunging ; but should dou-
ble the quantity of dung, or more, be required
for certain purposes on particular occasions, it
will not, he says, affect the conclusions deduci-
ble from these facts in kind, only in degree.
Hence, in his opinion, it follows, that if none of
this dung were suffered to go to waste, an acre
of good land laid down to grass, in high order,
should afford as much dung as would be sufficient
to dress each year an acre and a half of other
.and.
In the Agricultural account of Suffolk, it is
stated that the rich marsh lands there keep at the
rate of six sheep for seven summer months, and
four for the five winter months per acre ; that is,
a little more than five sheep on an average per
acre throughout the year. These are very large
sheep, of which 800 would be equal to the 500
ewes and lambs above mentioned, and conse-
quently would be sufficient to dung an acre in
one day. But five times 365 makes 1825, the
number of sheep kept for one day. At this rate
one acre of these rich grass lands would afford
as much dung in the course of one year, as
should be sufficient to dung somewhat more than
two acres and a quarter each year, if husbanded
with due economy and attention.
But, as the sheep in neither of these cases are
folded, the dung is suffered to drop in a scattered
manner over the pastures, throughout the whole
year. In this manner the influence of the dung must
either be nothing, or it must produce certain ef-
fects upon the grass. It is well known that when
sheep are folded upon grass ground, so as to de-
posit their dung upon it in considerable quanti-
ties all about one time, as in folding, the effect is,
that a flush of grass is quickly produced over its
whole surface, which is much more luxuriant and
abundant than it would have been, had it not re-
ceivedthis dressing. But it is well known, that the
animals, whose dung has occasioned that flush of
grass, nauseate it ; nor can they be brought to
taste it, unless they be compelled through hunger;
although animals of another kind are seen to eat
that kind of grass, not only without reluctance, but
even with avidity. He thinks the extra flush of grass
raised on the two acres and a half, that might be
thus manured by the sheep fed on one acre,
would be sufficient, on a moderate computation,
to keep at the rate of two sheep per acre. By
consequence, the extra grass produced by the
dung of the sheep kept on one acre of this rich
grassland, would be sufficient to keep four sheep
and a half. But, to keep within bounds, say three
sheep only could be kept by the grass produced
from the dung of the sheep fed on one acre. If
the dung be supposed to have the same effect in
producing extra grass, when dropped from the
animals as they pasture on the field, as it has when
laid upon ground closely by means of folding,
VOL. XIX
it must follow, from these premises, that as much
grass will grow from the dung upon each acre as
would feed three sheep. But, as the sheep
will not eat this kind of grass without constraint,
the ground must either be so hard stocked as to
compel them, through hunger, to eat that nau-
seous food, or that portion of the grass produced
by the dung will be suffered to run to waste ; so
that, in either case, a considerable loss must be
sustained by the owner. After some farther re-
marks our author adds, ' If these observations
be well founded, what an amazing waste is sus-
tained through the nation, by the loss of the
dung thus uselessly scattered on the surface of
pasture fields ! '
The remedy which first presents itself in this
case, he contends, is that of folding; and that,
if properly managed, there are perhaps few cases
in which it might not be put in practice, not only
without detriment to the stock, but even to their
advantage. All animals, but especially those
that ruminate, choosing to feed and rest by turns.
Ruminating animals require much time for rest ;
and, the more quiet they are allowed to be dur-
ing that period, the better they* will thrive. If
these then are withdrawn from their pastures
after they have properly filled their bellies, and
when they become necessarily disposed to rumi-
nate, they can sustain no damage by being put
into a place where they can have no access to
food. And if they be only as long detained there
as till they have rechewed the food they have
swallowed, and begin to feel an inclination to
eat more, they will be benefited by this confine-
ment, rather than otherwise. And they will thus
all feed and rest at the same time.
Penning, however, under injudicious manage-
ment, may tend to retard the feeding of the ani-
mals subjected to it. If the creatures be driven
to a great distance from their pastures to the pen,
it must subject them to a hurtful degree of fatigue ;
and this will be increased if they are made to pass
through lanes, where they may be crowded by
passengers, mired in dirt, or drenched in wet ;
or if they are neglected too long in the pen ; or
put up at improper times, &c. Therefore, to
derive the full benefit from folding,where the pas-
tures are of a great extent, there ought to be two
or more folds placed close by the pasture, at con-
venient distances ; so that the flocks, being gently
conducted from one to the other, feeding all the
way, might find themselves, when full, just at the
place for rest. There they should be suffered to re-
main just so long as is found to be necessary to
complete their ruminating process, and to prepare
them for feeding afresh ; they should then be suf-
fered to rise and stretch themselves, when they
naturally void their dung and urine on the spot.
Thus will the dung be preserved, and the pas-
tures be kept clean"and sweet. They ought then
to be led gently to the fresh pasture which they
had not lately breathed upon, or trampled with
their feet, and which of course will be to them
sweet and inviting ; they should thus be slowly
conducted to their next resting place, feeding all
the way ; and so on till they go over the whole
in a regular succession. If diseases be produced
by suffering the animals to eat their food when
covered with hoar frost, or dew, or mildew, or
K
130
RURAL ECONOMY.
at certain times of the clay or night, when snails
and other creatures are abroad, which they may
swallow with their food, in all these cases, when
observed, the evil may, by an attentive economist,
6e avoided by a judicious use of the fold. He
may also withdraw the sheep from the pastures
when they become restless and refuse to feed.
]n short, a judicious economist, by having folds
properly situated, respecting the circumstances
of shelter, coolness, water, and other conveni-
encies, may avail himself of these for greatly
promoting the health and enjoyment of the ani-
mals, and thus accelerating their feeding ; so
that, independent of the benefits he shall derive
from their dung, he will in other respects reap
considerable emolument.
Dr. Anderson observes that some persons
contend that the pastures ought to be stocked very
lightly ; alleging that although much of the pro-
duce is thus allowed to run to seed,which the beasts
will not eat, and which of course is trod under
foot, and rotted by rain, and thus wasted ; yet
experience, they say, proves that a greater profit
will be thus derived from it, upon the whole, on
account of the superior thriving of the animals,
than by any other practice. Others insist that
li^htstocking of grass land is a practice highly to
be condemned ; as it tends not only gradually to
diminish its produce, but also to encourage the
growth of coarse and unprofitable grasses, which
deteriorate the pastures ; and that hard stocking
of grass lands, especially those of a rich quality,
* an indispensible requisite of good manage-
ment. These two opinions, so diametrically op-
posite, and which are equally maintained by
sensible men, he thinks, clearly prove the embar-
rassment to which they are subjected, in conse-
quence of their not having adverted to the cir-
cumstances stated above, and many other parti-
culars, as affecting the economical consumption
of the produce of lands in grass. A third party,
he adds, who approach perhaps nearer to the
txuth than either, advise that a mixed stock should
be always kept upon the same field ; and that,
were the consumption of the foul grass produced
by the dung of the animals the only article to be
adverted to, it might doubtless be so managed as
to correct this evil. But there are so many cir-
cumstances to be adverted to, that it is not easy
by these means to get them all remedied. In
every field a variety of plants spontaneously
spring up, some of which are disrelished by one
class of animals, while they are eaten by others ;
and some of which, though eaten readily by some
animals at one particular period of their growth,
are rejected by them entirely at another. Thus it
becomes necessary, not only to have a vast
variety of animals in the same pasture, but also a
very particular attention is required to augment
or diminish the proportion of some of these
classes of animals, at particular seasons of the
year; otherwise some part of the produce will
M allowed to run to waste, unless it be hard
stocked to such a degree as to retard their thriv-
ing. But, if a great variety of animals be allowed
to go at large in the same pasture, they are never
suffered to feed with that tranquillity which is
necessary to ensure thriving in the highest degree.
One class of these wishes to feed, or to play,
while the others would incline to rest. They thus
mutually disturb and tease each other ; and this
inconvenience is greatly augmented if penning
of any sort be attempted. From these considera-
tions the practice of intermixing various kinds of
stock very much together is productive of evils in
many cases greater than those which result from
the waste of food they were intended to prevent.
And though, by hard stocking, the grass will be
kept shorter, and more palatable in general to the
animals who eat it, than if it were allowed to run
to a great length, yet as animals which are to be
fatted must not only have sweet food, but an
abundant bite at all times, to bring them forward
in a kindly manner, it seems to be nearly impos-
sible to obtain at the same time both these advan-
tages in the practice of pasturage.
Might not these evils, says our author, be
greatly diminished, if not entirely remedied, in
many cases, by having the produce cut by the
scythe, and given to the animals fresh in the
house ; rather than to suffer them to go at large and
eat the produce on the field, even under any
system of management whatever ? Many argu-
ments, he thinks, tend to show that this practice
is, in general, highly economical and advantage-
ous. 1. If the consumption of plants be the
object principally attended to, it is pl<iin the
benefits will be great ; for experience has clearly
proved that there are many plants which are
greedily consumed by beasts, if cut and given to
them in the house, which never would be touched
by them when growing in the field. Of this na-
ture is the dock, cow-parsley, thistles, nettle-;,
and many other plants. Upon what principle it
should happen that these plants should be so
readily eaten when thus given, while they are to-
tally rejected when in the field, he cannot say ;
but that they are thus eaten, without reluctance,
even when the animal is not hurtfully hungry, is
evident from this circumstance, that tin? beasts
often fall greedily to these at the moment
they are brought in from the field, even before
they have had time to become hungry after they
had come in. Fewer plants would be rejected or
suffered logo to waste on this plan. 2dly. .Many
of even the best kinds of grasses, which when
young form the most palatable food for the crea?-
tures, if once suffered to get into ear ; are disre-
lished so much as never to be tasted by them
unless to prevent starvation ; and. as, in most
pasture fields, many of these grasses get into ear
from various causes, all the produce of these
plants is inevitably lost to the farmer. But if
cut down by the scythe, in proper time, not one
of these is ever suffered to get into that nauseat-
ing state ; and consequently no waste is sustained.
3dly. But when animals are suffered to go upon
the field, many of the plants are trodden under
foot by the beasts, and bruised or buried in part
of the earth ; in which state they are greatly dis-
relished by them, and are suffered to run to
waste ; which never would take place were the
practice of cutting adopted generally. Lastly.
Those few plants which are totally disielished by
one class of animals, will not, from this circum-
stance, become less acceptable to others, but
much the reverse. Food that an animal has
breathed upon, for any considerable time, be-
RURAL ECONOMY.
131
comes unpleasant to other animals of the same
class; but not so to those of another species ; it
seems indeed thus to acquire for them a higher
relish. Even greater defilement by one animal
seems to render food more acceptable to others ;
for straw, that in its clean state has been rejected
by cattle, if employed as litter for horses, ac-
quires a relish for cattle that they search for with
avidity. Hence the sweeping of the stalls from
one animal furnishes a dainty repast for those
of another kind ; which can easily be shifted
from one to the other, if the plants are consumed
in the house, but which must have been lost in
the field.
If, adds this author, the health and the comfort
of the animal be chiefly adverted to, the balance
«vill be clearly in favor of the cutting system, when
compared with that of pasturing. When animals
are exposed to the sun, in the open air, they are
not only greatly incommoded on many occasions
by the heat, but also are annoyed by swarms of
flies,gnats, and hornets, particularly by the gad-fly,
which drives them into a state of fury, and must
retard their thriving. At other times they are
hurt by chilling blasts, or drenched by cheerless
rain, which renders their situation very unpleas-
ing, and greatly retards their feeding. Under
proper management, in a well constructed stall, all
these evils would be removed, and they would
be kept perpetually in a proper state of coolness,
tranquillity, and ease, so as to make the same
quantity of food go farther than it otherwise could
have done in nourishing them. They would also
be prevented from licking up snails, worms, and
other noxious creatures, among their food, which
they are by pasturing apt to do, when they feed
at those times of the day or night when those
creatures crawl abroad. This would be entirely
avoided by cutting the grass at those times of the
day when none of these are to be found. Thus
lingering diseases might often be avoided, which
always retard the thriving, and often prove the
destruction of the animal. And by giving an
opportunity of administering dry and nourishing
food along with the soft and succulent, and by
varying the tastes, so as to provoke an appetite,
not only the health, but the thriving of the crea-
tures, would be greatly augmented beyond what
they could have been in any other way.
But, if manure is to be chiefly attended to,
there can be no comparison between the two
modes of consumption. This is so greatly in
favor of stall-feeding, that it would be idle to
spend time in proofs of a proposition that may
be considered as self-evident and certain. And
lastly, if the quantity of herbage produced from
the same field be adverted to, it will be found
to be equally in favor of the cutting system. All
animals delight more to feed on the young fresh
shoots of grass, than those that are older. Hence
those patches in a pasture field that happen to
have been eaten once bare, in the beginning of
the season, are kept very short ever afterwards
throughout the whole of that season, by the crea-
tures delighting to feed upon them in preference
to the parts of the field that have got up to a
greater head ; so that these last are suffered to
remain in a great measure untouched throughout
the season. It is not, brwcver, in general
known, tha! grass, even the leafy parts of it,
when it has attained a certain length, becomes
stationary ; and, though it will retain its verdure
for some months in that state, makes no sort of
progress whatever ; whereas, if it had been
cropped down frequently, it would have con-
tinued in a constant state of progress, advancing
with a rapidity in a ereat measure proportioned
to the frequency of its being cropped. For ex-
perimental proofs of this fact, see our author's
Essay on Agriculture and Rural Affairs, Vol. II.
Disquis V.
' I have often,' says he, ' seen lawns around
gentlemen's houses that have been under a course
of continued shaving from time immemorial, that
discovered no symptoms of exhaustion, nor any
sensible diminution of luxuriance or verdure,
though no manures of any sort had ever been
laid upon them. This fact struck him as im-
portant; and he applied for information respect-
ing this particular, to a gardener who had the
charge of very extensive lawns of this sort, be-
longing to a gentleman of large property. He
assured him that, for upwards of thirty years
that he had had the care of the lawns, some
parts of them which had been laid down long
before he knew them, and were' originally, as he
supposed, of a rich quality, had never received
during all that time the smallest quantity of ma-
nure of any sort ; and that the lawn continued
to be equally close in the pile, equally verdant
at all seasons in the year, and required to be as
often cut as ever ; and that, in short, he had no
reason to apprehend that the quantity of its pro-
duce had diminished in the smallest degree.*
This seems to our author a strong presumptive
proof that grass land, when once of a rich qua-
lity, may be continued for an indefinite tength
of time under the scythe, without being at all
deteriorated, even when it gets no return of dung.
And as the Doctor has shown that rich grass
land, under pasturage, produces as much dung
as ought to manure each year more than double
its own extent of surface ; it follows that, if the
same quantity of grass land will only furnish as
many beasts in the house, as if it were pastured
upon (and it will do much more), there can be
annually obtained from each acre of land kept
under the scythe as much dung as might manure
two acres more, which might be abstracted from
that grass land without deteriorating it. Of
course, if the land be such as that it can admit
of being made richer, a dressing of that dung,
now and then returned upon itself, would give
it the richness wanted, without any extraneous
aid. In this point of view, then, it seems to be
impossible to deny that rich land, if kept under
the scythe, can never become poorer, if none of
the dung made by the beasts fed upon it be ab-
stracted from it ; but that, on the contrary, it can
thus be made to afford a large annual supply of
dung for the purpose of enriching poorer land,
while it still continues to be fertile itself in the
same degree. He also remarks, there seems to
be no doubt but that the quality of the grass
must continue to improve while under the scythe,
much more than while under pasturage. Every
person, says he, who has bestowed the smallest
attention to objects of this sort, must have re
K2
132
RURAL ECONOMY.
marked that the worst kiml of grasses grow most
freely upon those parts of rich grass lands that
are the most open and spongy in their texture ;
and that they are in general much sweetened in
the pile where they chance to be much trod
upon. Hence the finest grasses on such fields
always abound most upon paths which are mode-
rately trod upon ; white clover, and the sweetest
grasses, being seen there in abundance, while
they are less frequent in the spongy parts of
the field. But frequent rolling tends to produce
this effect more universally and equally than any
kind of treading by beasts.
In confirmation of this, the observations of
Mr. Davies, in his Account of the Agriculture
of Wiltshire, may be quoted. He says that ' the
sweetness of the feed depends much more on its
being kept close, and eaten as fast as it shoots,
than on any peculiar good quality of the grass
itself; for there are many downs that, when close
fed, appear to be a very sweet pasture, but
which, if suffered to run a year or two without
a full stock on thorn, will become so coarse that
sheep will almost as soon starve as eat the grass :
and even in those parts of the downs, where the
finer and sweeter grasses abound, the soil is fre-
quently so loose and porous, that nothing but
constant treading will prevent them from dying
out, or being choked by the larger and coarser
grasses.' It is farther remarked, by Mr. Davies,
that in consequence of too light stocking, heath,
in some cases, comes in the place of the better
grasses. But, says Dr. Anderson, it is very evi-
dent that all the purposes of hard stocking, that
is, keeping the grass short, and in a continual
slate of vegetation, and consequently sweet, and
preventing the coarser grasses from running up
to stalk and overpowering the others, together
with the consolidating of the ground by treading,
would be obtained with much greater certainty
by the practice of mowing ; while the animals
that consumed the produce could in no case be
subjected to a stint of food, which they neces-
sarily must sometimes be, where reliance is had
upon hard stocking for preventing this evil.
Our able essayist observes that the terms
sweetness of pasture, and sweet kinds of grass,
frequently occur in agricultural writings ; yet it
is doubtful, if ever they have been properly de-
fined. He therefore here attempts to supply this
defect. Those pastures which animals choose
to feed upon in preference to others, and which in
general are eaten down close to the ground, are
said to be sweet pastures, he observes, in con-
tradistinction to those where the grass, being
disrelished, is suffered to grow to a greater
length, and often to wither in part, without being
touched ; which are called coarse, or, if tending
to dampness, sour pasture. Without entering
into a disquisition concerning the circumstances
that tend to produce this sweetness, which are
various, he considers that, from whatever cause
it originates, it is a universal rule, that in every
case the younger the grass is, the sweeter and
more palatable it will be to beasts of every sort ;
and that the same weight of food will go much
farther in nourishing or fattening an animal, if it
1 <• very pleasing to the palate of the animal to
ulnch it is given, than if it had been less tooth-
some. For, as a certain quantity of food is re-
quired for the mere sustenance of every animal,
if that quantity be daily administered to it, and
no more, the creature will barely subsist, but
will never return any profit to the farmer. But,
if the beast shall get a greater quantity of food
than this portion which is barely necessary for
subsistence, that surplus food then goes to aug-
ment the size, and to fatten the animal, and of
course yields a profit to the farmer in proportion
to its quantity.
As to weeding, the dock-weeder will be" found
a useful implement for taking out that mis-
chievous perennial by the roots ; nettles and
other weeds may be cut with spades, or mown
over ; while some of the rushes and fern are best
killed by hoisting the stem. Mosses greatly mo-
lest old pastures ; and rich composts, harrowing,
and drainage, are often necessary to be applied.
The Code of Agriculture says that, ' to keep
grass in good condition, a dressing of from thirty
to forty cubic yards or cart-loads of compost is
required every four years. The application of
unmixed putrescent manure will thus' be ren-
dered unnecessary, which ought at least to be
avoided, in meadows appropriated for the feeding
of dairy cows, from its affecting the quality of
the milk.' p. 476.
An eminent agriculturist observes that there
seems to be a season, some time during the year,
when grass lands, particularly old turf, should be
eaten very close, not merely for the sake of pre-
venting waste, but also for the purpose of keep-
ing down the coarser kinds of plants, and giving
to the pastures as equal and fine a sward as pos-
sible. The most proper period must partly de-
pend upon the convenience of the grazier ; but it
can hardly be either immediately before the
drought of summer or the frost of winter. Some
time in autumn, when the ardent heat of the
season is over, and when there is still time for a
new growth before winter, may be most suitable
for the land itself, and generally also for the
grazier, his fat stock being then mostly disposed
of, or carried to the after grass of mown grounds.
The sweeping of pastures with the scythe may
be employed as a substitute for this close feeding ;
the waste and labor of which, however, though
they be but trifling, it does not seem necessary
to incur on rich grazing lands, under correct
management. Under the system of fogging pas-
ture lands, fields in pasture are shut up early in
May, and continued in that state till November
or December, when the farmer's stock is turned
in, and continue to pasture till the May succeed-
ing. Such management, however, can only be
advisable on a soil of the driest nature.
The chief improvements of which mountainous
pastures are susceptible, according to Mr. Loudon,
are those of draining and sheltering by planta-
tions. ' Some parts might probably be enclosed
by strips of plantation between stone walls, or
by stone walls alone ; but, as the stock on moun-
tain pastures are generally under the care of a
herdsman, the advantages of change of pasture,
and alternate eating down and saving or sparing
the grass, by keeping out the cattle, are obtainable
without the use of fields.' But, in the words of
an able contemporary, ' except in regard to those
RURAL ECONOMY.
necessary operations that have been already
. noticed — such as the extirpation of weeds and
noxious shrubs, clearing away ant and mole-hills,
&c., there are few points respecting the manage-
ment of this kind of land on which some dif-
ference of opinion does not prevail. The time of
stocking — the number of the animals, and whether
all should be of one or of different species — the
extent of the enclosures — and the propriety of
eating the herbage close, or leaving it always in
a rather abundant state — are all of them ques-
tions which it is scarcely possible to decide in a
satisfactory manner by the application of general
rules.' Mr. Marshal states that, in all cases where
fatting cattle or dairy cows make a part of the
stock, and where situation, soil, and water will
permit, every suit of grazing grounds ought to
consist of three compartments. One for head
stock (as cows or fatting cattle) ; one for followers
(as rearing and other lean stock) ; and the third
to be shut up to freshen, for the leading stock. —
Marshal's Yorkshire, vol. ii. p. 158.
PART III.
OF THE CONVERTIBLE OR ALTERNATE
SYSTEM.
The Board of Agriculture, under the direction
of government, was long engaged in an enquiry
* into the best means of converting portions of
grass lands into tillage, without exhausting the
soil, and of returning the same to grass, after a
certain period, in an improved state, or at least
without injury : and, while the author of the sup-
plemental article on Agriculture in the Encyclo-
paedia Britannica thinks the industry of the
Board was ill-directed, much information was
certainly collected by this means. Sir John Sin-
clair is confident that a ' much larger proportion
of the United Kingdom than is at present so cul-
tivated, might be subject to the alternate system
of husbandry, or transferred from grass to tillage,
and then restored to grass. Much of the middling
sorts of grass lands, from 200 to 400 feet above
the level of the sea, is of this description ; and all
well-informed husbandmen, and friends to the
general prosperity of the country, regret that
such lands are left in a state of unproductive
pasturage, and excluded from tillage.
There are lands, however, respecting which it
seems the general testimony was, that they ought
never to be thus broken up ; as strong clays, un-
fit for barley or turnips ; soft clayey loams, with
a clayey or marly sub-soil ; and the deeper valley
or river meadows, most of which improve an-
nually while kept under good grazing manage-
ment. The grass lands of Lincolnshire are in-
stanced as the richest altogether in the kingdom.
They let from £l 15s. to £3 per acre, and the
value of the produce is from £3 to £lO,per acre,
arising from the beef, mutton, and wool, obtained,
subject to little variation from the nature of the
seasons. The stock maintained per acre on the
best grazing lands surpasses what could be fed
by any arable produce ; it being not uncommon
to feed at the rate of from six to seven sheep in
summer, and two sheep in winter. The sheep,
when put on the grass, may weigh from 18 Ibs.
to 20 Ibs. per quarter, and the increase of weight
would be at the rate of 4 Ibs. per quarter, or 16
Ibs. per sheep. But suppose in all only 100 Ibs.
at 8d. per pound, that would amount to £3 17s.
lOd. The wool would be worth about two
guineas more, besides the value of the winter
keep ; and the total may be stated at about £7
per acre, got at little expense. Such lands can-
not be better employed. From other causes,
very light land, where sheep are both bred and
fed, must, in part at least, be left as permanent
pasture : and those of the county of Norfolk are
here adduced in proof. Great injury has been
sustained, we are told, by breaking up permanent
pastures on such soils, more especially when
subject to rectorial tithes : lands of an inferior
soil, which kept two sheep on an acre, paying
only vicarial tithes, and rented at 10s. per acre,
since they have been broken up cannot pay, even
without rent, both the tithe of corn and the ex-
pense of cultivation. In general it may be al-
lowed that a farm lets best with a fair proportion
of grass land upon it, which admits of a mixed
management.
Under the following particulars are given, in
the Code of Agriculture, the result of the infor-
mation communicated to the Board : i. e. whe-
ther any previous steps are necessary before
lands in grass are broken up ; the proper mode
of effecting that object ; the course of crops ;
the manure necessary : the system of manage-
ment during the rotation ; the mode of laying
down the land again to grass ; that of sowing the
grass-seeds ; and the subsequent management.
1 . If the land be wet, it is said to be advisable
to drain it completely, previous to its being
broken up ; as it is not improbable that its being
kept in pasture was partly on that account.
Land that long has been in pasture does not re-
quire dung during the first course of crops that
is taken after being broken up ; but the applica-
tion of calcareous manure is always, in suck
cases, expedient. Sometimes lime is spread on
the ground before it is ploughed ; at other times
when it is either under summer fallow, or a
drilled crop of turnips. Marl and chalk also
have been used for the same purpose with great
advantage. The land thence derives additional
strength and vigor; the succeeding crops are
much improved ; the soil is commonly so sof-
tened in its texture that it may be ploughed
with half the strength that would otherwise be
necessary ; and, whenever it is restored to grass,
the herbage is abundant.
2. Wherever the soil is not too shallow, or
friable, or when the turf cannot soon be rotted,
if land is to be broken up from old pasture,
paring and burning is the proper system. In
this way good tilth is speedily procured ; the da-
mage that might otherwise be sustained by the
grub, the wire-worm, and other insects, is
avoided, while the soil receives a stimulus which
ensures an abundant crop. Where paring and
burning, from any circumstance, cannot take
place, the land may be trenched or double-
ploughed. This is effected by means of two
ploughs following each other, the first plough
taking off a thin surface of about three inches,
and the second going deeper in the same place,
covering the surface-sod with fine mould ; both
134
RURAL ECONOMY.
furrows not exceeding the thickness of the vege-
table mould or other good soil. If the land is
ploughed with one furrow, the operation ought
to be performed before winter, that it may re-
ceive the benefit of the succeeding frosts, by
which the success of the future operations will
not only be promoted, but most of the insects
lodged in the soil will be destroyed. When one
furrow alone is taken, the best size is four inches
and a half deep by eight or nine broad. The
strain on horses in ploughing ley land is mostly
from the depth.
3. The rotation of crops to be adopted, when
grass lands are broken up, must partly depend
upon the soil, and partly on the manner in
which it is prepared for cultivation. As a gene-
ral principle, however, it may be laid down,
that unless by the course of cropping to be pur-
sued the bad grasses and other plants indigenous
in the soil are extirpated, they will, when the
land is again laid down to grass, increase and
prevail with more rapidity and effect than seeds
chosen by the farmer; and the consequence
must be, a heavy disappointment to the future
crops of grass, perhaps solely, or at least prin-
cipally, attributable to a previous defective ma-
nagement. It is necessary, therefore, to enter
into details upon this subject. The process of
conversion in clayey soils should be commenced
with paring and burning, especially where the
grub is suspected. The following course may
then be adopted: — 1. Rape fed with sheep; 2.
Beans; 3. Wheat; 4. Beans; 5. W:heat ; 6. Fal-
low ; 7. Wheat, sown with grass-seeds. This
may seem severe cropping, but is justified by
experience when old grass clay land is broken
up. If the land has not been pared and burnt,
the first crop ought to be either oats or dibbled
beans. To do justice to the plan of restoring
the land to grass, there ought to be, in all cases,
according to the soil, either a naked or turnip
fallow, before the sowing of grass-seeds be at-
tempted. But on mellow loamy clay land, con-
sisting of fine old grass pasture, where it is
thought necessary or advisable to break up such
land, it should be done in detached pieces, so as to
suit the convenience of the occupier, and the
following course should be adopted: — !. Au-
tumnal ploughing for oats in spring; 2. Fallow
for rape, to be eaten with sheep; 3. Beans; 4.
Wheat, sown with clover; 5. Clover; 6. Clover;
7 Wheat; 8. Rape, to be partially eaten, and
jioed in spring, and to stand for seed ; and, 9.
Wheat with grass-seeds. This is a very profit-
able rotation, and applicable to the best grazing
land in Lincolnshire. As to chalk : Paring and
burning is considered in this case to be indis-
pensable as a preparation for turnips, which
ought, where manure can be got, to be raised
iwo years in succession ; then barley, clover,
wheat; and, after one or two additional crops of
'urnips, the land may be laid down with sain-
foin to great advantage. Peat : On this soil
;>armg and burning are essentially necessary.
Under a judicious system, the greatest and
quickest profit is thus secured to the farmer,
•Mih advantage to the public, and without in-
iury to the landlord. Draining also must not
be neglected. The crops to be grown on j«eat
soils are, 1. Rape or potatoes; 2. Oats; 3. Tur
nips; 4. Oats or wheat; and, 5, Clover, or grass-
seeds. A liberal application of lime, where it '
can be obtained, is of the greatest service in en-
abling such soils to bring corn to its full perfec-
tion. In the fens of Thorney, the following
course was recommended : — 1. Paring and burn-
ing for rape ; 2. Oats; and, 3. Wheat with grass-
seeds ; if the land was safe from water, the Lam-
mas sort, if not spring wheat. This short cours^,
it is contended, preserves the land in heart ; and
it afterwards produces abundant crops of grass.
But long courses, in such a soil, run the lands
to weeds and straw, without quality in the grain.
Loam : The courses of crops applicable to this
soil are too numerous to be here inserted. If the
sward be friable, the following rotation may .be
adopted: — 1. Oats; 2. Turnips; 3. Wheat or
barley ; 4. Beans ; 5. Wheat ; 6. Fallow or tur-
nips; 7. Wheat or barley, and grass-seeds. If
the sward be very tough and coarse, instead of
taking oats, it may be pared and burnt for tur-
nips. Sand : On rich and deep sandy soils,
the most valuable crop that can be raised is car-
rots. For inferior sands, turnips, to be eaten on
the ground, then to be laid clown with barley and
grass seeds.
4. According to the improved system of lav-
ing down lands to grass, they ought to be pre-
viously made as clean and fertile as possible.
With that view, all the green crops raised oui;ht
to be consumed upon the ground ; fallow or
fallow crops ought not to be neglected ; an-
whole straw of the corn crops should be con-
verted into manure, and applied to the soil that
produced it. Above all, the mixing of calcareous
matter with the soil, either previous to, or during
the course of cropping, is essential ; and nothing
generally improves meadows or pastures more
than lime or marl.
5. It is disputed whether grass-seeds should
be sown with or without corn. In favor of the
first practice, that of uniting the two cro:
is maintained that, where equal pains are taken,
the future crop of grass will succeed equally
well as if they had been sown separately, while the
same tilth answers for both. On the other hand
it is observed, that as the land must, in that
case, be put into the best possible order, there
is a risk that the corn crop will grow so luxu-
riantly, as to overpower the grass-seeds, and, at
any rate, will exclude them from the benefit of
the air and the dews. If the season also In
a corn-crop is apt to lodge, and the grass will, in
a great measure, be destroyed. On soils mode-
rately fertile, the grasses have a better chance of
succeeding ; but then, it is said, that the land is
so much exhausted by producing the corn- crops,
that it seldom proves good grass land afterwards.
In answer to these objections, it has been 01
that where, from the richness of the soil, the
any risk of sowing a full crop of corn, less seed
d, even as low as one-third of the usual
quantity ; and that a moderate crop of grain
nurses the young plants of grass, and protects
them from the rays of a hot sun, without pro
ducing any material injury. Where the two
crops are united, barley is the preferable graic.,
except on peat. Barley has a tendency to !•-
RURAL ECONOMY.
135
the texture of the ground in which it grows,
which is favorable to the vegetation of grass-
seeds. In the choice of barley, that sort should
be preferred which runs least to straw, and which
is the soonest ripe. On peat, a crop of oats is
to be preferred. The manner of sowing the
grass-seeds requires to be particularly attended
to. Machines have been invented for that pur-
pose, which answer well, but they are unfortu-
nately too expensive for the generality of fanners.
It is said to be a bad system to mix seeds of
different plants before sowing them, in order to
have the fewer casts. It is better to sow each
sort separately, for the expence of going several
times over the ground is nothing, compared to
the benefit of having each sort equally distri-
buted. The seeds of grasses, being so light,
ought never to be sown in a windy day, except
by machinery, an equal delivery being a point
of great consequence. Wet weather ought like-
wise to be avoided, as the least degree of poach-
ing is injurious. Grass -seeds ought to be well
harrowed, according to the nature of the soil.
6. When the corn is carried off, the young
crop of grass should be but little fed during au-
tumn, and that only in dry weather ; but heavily
rolled in the following spring, in order to press
the soil home to the roots. It is then to be
treated as permanent pasture. By attention to
these particulars, the far greater proportion of
the meadows and pastures in the kingdom, of
an inferior, or even medium quality, may be
broken up, not only with safety, but, as we are
told, with great profit.
PART IV.
OF THE CULTIVATION OF PLANTS THAT
ARE ARTICLES OF COMMERCE.
These in general are such as cannot be used
for food ; and are principally flax, hemp, rape,
hops, and timber of various kinds.
Ofjiax and hemp. — Flax is cultivated not only
with a view to the common purposes of making
linen, but for the sake of its seed also ; and thus
forms a most extensive article of commerce, all
the oil used by painters, at least for common
purposes, being extracted from this seed. See
FLAX, FLAX-DRESSING, and LINVM. The cake
which remains after ihe extraction of the oil is
in some places used as a manure, and in others
sold for fattening of cattle. In the vale of Glou-
cester, Mr. Marshal informs us that it is, next
to hay, a main article of stall fatting ; though
the price is often great. Hence some indivi-
duals have been induced to try the effect of lint-
seed itself boiled to a jelly, and mixed with flour,
bran, or chaff, with good success ; "and even the
oil itself has been tried for the same purpose in
Herefordshire. Though this plant is in universal
culture over the whole kingdom, yet it appears,
by the vast quantity imported, that by far too
little ground is employed in that way; as Mr.
Marshal takes notice of its culture only in York-
shire, and here, he tells us, its cultivation is con-
fined to a few districts. The kind cultivated is
that called ' blea-line,' or the blue or lead co-
lored flax, and this requires a rich dry soil for
its cultivation.
A deep, fat, sandy loam is perhaps the only-
soil on which it can be cultivated with advan-
tage. If sown upon old corn land, it ought to
be well cleaned from weeds, and rendered per-
fectly friable by a summer fallow. Manure is
seldom or ever set on for a line crop ; and the
soil process consists generally of a single plough-
ing. The seed time is May, but much depends
on the state of the soil at the time of sowing.
' It should neither be wet nor dry ; and the sur-
face ought to be made as fine as that of a garden-
bed. Not a clod of the size of an egg should
remain unbroken.' Two bushels of seed are
usually sown upon an acre; the surface, after
being harrowed, is sometimes raked with garden
or hay-rakes ; and the operation would be still
more complete if the clods and other obstructions,
which cannot be easily removed, were drawn into
the interfurrows. A light hand-roller used be-
tween the final raking and harrowing would
much assist this operation. The chief requisite
during the time of vegetation is weeding, which
ought to be performed with the utmost care ; and
for this reason it is particularly requisite that the
ground should be previously cleansed as well as
possible, otherwise the expense of weeding be-
comes too great to be borne, or the crop must
be considerably injured. It is an irreparable
injury, if, through a dry season, the plants come
up in two crops ; or if by accident or misma-
nagement they be too thin. The goodness of the
crop depends on its running up with a single
stalk without branches ; for wherever it ramifies
there the length of the line terminates ; and this
ramification is the consequence of its having too
much room at the root, or getting above the
plants which surround it. The branches are ne-
ver of any use, being unavoidably worked off in
dressing ; and the stem itself, unless it bear a
due proportion to the length of the crop, is like-
wise worked off among the refuse. The ramifi-
cation of the flax will readily be occasioned by
clods on the ground when sown. A second crop
is very seldom attended with any profit ; for, be-
ing overgrown with ihe spreading plants of the
first crop, it remains weak and short, and at pull-
ing time is left to rot upon the land.
Flax is injured not only by drought, but by
frost, and is sometimes attacked, even when got
five or six inches high, by a small white slug,
which strips off the leaves to the top, and the
stalks bending with their weight are thus some-
times drawn into the ground. Hence, if the
crop does not promise fair at-weeding time, our
author advises not to bestow further labor and
expense upon it. A crop of turnips or rape will
generally pay much better than such a crop of
flax. The time of flax harvest in Yorkshire is
generally in the latter end of July, or beginning
of August. On the whole, our author remarks,
that ' the goodness of the crop depends in some
measure upon its length; and this upon its
evenness and closeness upon the ground. Three
feet high is a good length, and the thickness of
a crow's quill a good thickness. A fine stalk
affords more fine and fewer shivers than a thick
one. A tall thick set crop is therefore desirable.
But, unless the land be good, a thick crop cannot
attain u sufficient length of stem. Hence the
136
HURAL ECONOMY.
folly of sowing flax on land which is unfit for it.
Nevertheless, with a suitable soil, a sufficiency
of seed evenly distributed, and a favorable sea-
son, flax may turn out a very profitable crop.
The flax crop, however, has its disadvantages ;
it interferes with harvest, and is generally be-
lieved to be a great exhauster of the soil, espe-
cially when its seed is suffered to ripen. Its
cultivation ought therefore to be confined to rich
grass-land districts, where harvest is a secondary
object, and where its exhaustion may :-e rather
favorable than hurtful to succeeding arible crops,
by checking the too great rankness of rich fresh
broken ground.
In vol. ii. of Bath Papers, a Dorsetshire gen-
tleman, who writes on the culture of hemp and
flax, gives an account somewhat different from
that of Mr. Marshal. Instead of exhausting
crops, he maintains that they are both amelio-
rating crops if cut without seeding; and, as the
best crops of both are raised from foreign, seed,
he is of opinion that there is little occasion for
raising it in this country. A crop of hemp, he
insists, prepares the land for flax, and is there-
fore clear gain to the farmer. ' That these plants
impoverish the soil,' he repeats, ' is a mere vulgar
notion, devoid of all truth. The best historical
relations, and the verbal accounts of honest in-
genious planters, concar in declaring it to be a
vain prejudice, unsupported by any authority;
and that these crops really meliorate and improve
the soil.' He is likewise of opinion that the
growth of hemp and flax is not necessarily con-
fined to rich soils, but that they may be culti-
vated with profit also upon poor sandy ground,
if a little expense be laid out in manuring it.
; Spalding Moor in Lincolnshire is a barren
sand ; and yet with proper care and culture it
produces the best hemp in England, and in large
quantities. In the Isle of Axholme, in the same
county, equal, quantities are produced ; for the
culture and management of it is the principal
employ of the inhabitants; and, according to
Leland, it was so in the reign of Henry VIII.
In Marshland the soil is a clay or strong warp,
thrown up by the river Ouze, and of such a qua-
lity that it cracks with the heat of the sun, till a
hand may be put into chinks ; yet, if it be once
covered with the hemp or flax before the heats
come on, the ground will not crack that summer.
When the land is sandy, they first sow it with
barley, and the following spring they manure the
stubble with horse or cow dung, and plough it
under. Then they sow their hemp or flax, and
harrow it in with a li^ht harrow, having short
teeth. A good crop destroys all the weeds, and
makes it a fine fallow for flax in the spring. As
soon as the flax is pulled, they prepare the
ground for wheat. Lime, marl, and the mud of
ponds, is an excellent compost for hemp lands.'
Our author takes notice of the vast quantity of
flax and hemp, not less than 11,000 tons, im-
ported formerly into Britain ; and complains
ilia* it is not all raised in the island. He ob-
serves that the greater part of those marshy
Jands lying to the west of Mendip hills are very
{u-oper for the cultivation of hemp and flax ;
wad if laid out in this manner could not fail of
inR out. highly advantageous both to the land-
holders and the public at large. ' The vast quan-
tities of hemp and flax,' says he, 'which have
been raised on lands of the same kind in Lin-
colnshire marshes, and the fens of the Isle of
Ely and Huntingdonshire, are a full proof of
the truth of my assertion. Many hundreds of
acres in the above mentioned places, which for
pasturage or grazing were not worth more than
20s. or 25s. per acre, hare been readily let at
from £-2 to £4.
Choice of the soil, and preparing the ground.
— A skilful flax-raiser always prefers in Scotland,
we are told, a free open deep loam, and all grounds
that produced the preceding year a good crop of
turnips, cabbages, potatoes, barley, or broad
clover, or have been formerly laid down rich,
and kept for some years in pasture. A clay soil,
the second or third crop after being limed, will
answer well for tfax ; provided, if the ground be
still stiff, that it be brought to a proper mould,-
by tilling after harvest to expose it to winter
frosts. All new grounds produce a strong crop
of flax, and pretty free of weeds. When many
mole-hills appear upon new ground, ii ;u>\v,.rs
the better for flax after one tilling. The seed
ought never to be sown on grounds that are either
too wet or dry, but on such as retain a natural
moisture ; and such grounds as are inclined to
weeds ought to be avoided, unless prepared by
a careful summer fallow. If the linseed be
sown early, and the flax not allowed to stand for
seed, a crop of turnip may be got after the flax
that very year ; the second year a crop of rye or
barley may be taken; and the third year grass
seeds are sometimes sown along with the lint-
seed. This is the method mostly practised in
and about the counties of Lincoln and Somer-
set, where great quantities of flax and hemp are
every year raised, and where these crops have
long been capital articles. There old ploughed
grounds are never sown with linseed, unless the
soil be very rich an'd clean. A certain worm,
called in Scotland the coup worm, abounds in
new ploughed grounds, which greatly hurts every
crop but flax. In small enclosures, surrounded
with trees or high hedges, the flax, for want of
free air, is subject to fall before it is ripe, and
the droppings of rain and dew from the trees
prevent the flax within the reach of the trees
from growing to any perfection. Of preceding
crops, potatoes and hemp are the best prepara-
tion for flax. In the fens of Lincoln, upon pro-
per ground of old tillage they sow hemp, dung-
ing well the first year; the second year hemp
without dung; the third year flax without dung;
and that same year a crop of turnip eat on the
ground by sheep ; the fourth year hemp with a
large coat of dung; and so on successively. If
the ground be free and open, it should be but
once ploughed, and that as shallow as possible,
not deeper than two inches and a half. It
should be laid flat, reduced to a fine garden
mould by good harrowing, and all stones and
sods should be carried off. Except a little pi-
geon's dung for cold or sour ground, no other
dung should be used preparatory for flax ; be-
cause it produces too many weeds, and throws
up the flax thin and poor upon the stalk. Ite-
l<>ir sowing, the bulky clod.s should be broken,
RURAL ECONOMY.
137
or carried ofl' the ground ; and stones, quicken-
ings, and every other thing that may hinder the
growth of the flax, should be carefully taken
away.
Choice of seed. — The brighter in color, and
heavier the seed is, so much the better; that
which, when bruised, appears of a light or yel-
lowish green, and fresh in the heart, oily, and not
dry, and smells and tastes sweet, and not fusty,
may be depended upon. Dutch seed of the
preceding year's growth for the most part an-
swers best ; but it seldom succeeds if kept ano-
ther year. It ripens sooner than any other fo-
reign seed. Philadelphia seed produces fine
lint and few bolls, because sown thick, and an-
swers best in wet cold soils. Riga seed pro-
duces coarser lint, and the greatest quantity of
seed. Scotch seed, when well winned and kept
and changed from one kind of soil to another,
sometimes answers pretty well ; but should be
sown thick, as many of its grains are bad, and
fail. It springs well, and its flax is sooner ripe
than any other ; but its produce afterwards is
generally inferior to that from foreign seed. A
kind has been lately imported, called Memel
seed ; which looks well, is short and plump, but
seldom grows above eight inches, and on that ac-
count ought not to be sown.
Method of sowing. — The quantity of lintseed
sown should be proportioned to the condition
of the soil ; for if the ground be in good heart,
and the seed sown thick, the crop will be in
danger of falling before it is ready for pulling.
In Scotland, from eleven to twelve pecks, Lin-
lithgow measure, of Dutch or Riga seed, is ge-
nerally thought sufficient for one acre ; and about
ten pecks of Philadelphia seed, which, being the
smallest grained, goes farthest. Riga lintseed,
and the next year's produce of it, is preferred in
Lincolnshire. The time for sowing lintseed is
from the middle of March to the end of April,
as the ground and season answer ; but the earlier
the seed is sown, the less the crop interferes with
the corn-harvest. Late sown lintseed may grow
long, but the flax upon the stalk will be thin
and poor. After sowing, the ground ought to
be harrowed till the seed is well covered, and
then (supposing the soil, as before mentioned, to
be free, and reduced to a fine mould) it ought to
be rolled. ^Yhen a farmer sows a large quan-
tity of lintseed, he may find it proper to sow a
part earlier and part later, that in the future ope-
rations of weeding, pulling, watering, and grass-
ing, the work may be the easier and more conve-
niently gone about. It ought always to be sown
on a dry bed.
Weeding. — Flax ought to be weeded when
the crop is about four inches long. If longer
deferred, the weeders will so much break and
bend the stalks that they will never perhaps re-
cover their straightness again ; and, when the
flax grows crooked, it is more liable to be hurt
in the rippling and swingling. Quicken-grass
should not be taken up ; for, being strongly
rooted, the pulling of it always loosens a deal
of the lint. If there is an appearance of a set-
tled drought, it is better to defer the weeding,
than by that operation to expose the tender roots
of the flax to the drought. So soon as the weeds
are got out, they ought to be carried off the field,
instead of being laid in the furrow, where they
often take root again, and at any rate obstruct
the growth of the flax in the furrows.
For the cultivation, natural history, dressing,
importation, uses, &c., of hemp, see CANKABIS
and HEMP.
We may subjoin in this place a few practical
remarks on rape or cole seed. This, as well as
lintseed, is cultivated for the purpose of making
oil, and will grow almost any where. Mr. Ha-
zard says that in the north of England the
farmers pare and burn their pasture lands, and
then sow them with rape after one ploughing;
the crop commonly standing for seed. Poor
clay, or stone brash land, will often produce
from twelve to sixteen or eighteen bushels per
acre, and almost any fresh or virgin earth will
yield one plentiful crop ; so that many in the
northern counties have been raised, by culti-
vating this seed, from poverty to affluence. The
seed is ripe in July, or the beginning of August;
and the threshing of it out is conducted with the
greatest mirth and jollity. The rape, being fully
ripe, is first cut with sickles, and then lafd thin
upon the ground to dry ; and, when in proper
condition for threshing, the neighbours are in-
vited, who readily contribute their assistance.
The threshing is performed on a large cloth in
the middle of the field, and the seed put into
sacks and carried home. It does not admit of
being carried from the field in the pod, to be
threshed at home, and therefore the operation is
always performed in the field ; and, by the num-
ber of assistants procured on this occasion, a
field of twenty acres is frequently threshed out
in one day. The straw is burnt for the sake of
its alkali, the ashes being said to equal the best
kind of those imported from abroad. The pro-
per time for sowing rape is June ; and the land
should, previously to the sowing, be twice well
ploughed. About two pounds of seed are suffi-
cient for an acre; and, according to our author,
it should be cast upon the ground with only the
thumb and two fore-fingers ; for, if it be cast witn
all the fingers, it will come up in patches. If
the plants come up too thick, a pair of light har-
rows should be drawn along the field length-ways
and cross-ways, by which means the plants will
be equally thinned ; and, when the plants which
the harrows have pulled up are withered, the
ground should be rolled. A few days after, the
plants may be set out with a hoe, allowing six-
teen or eighteen inches distance betwixt every
two plants.
Mr. Hazard strongly recommends the trans-
planting of rape, having experienced the good
effects of it himself. A rood of ground, sown
in June, will produce as many plants as are suf-
ficient for ten acres ; which may be planted out
upon ground that has previously borne a crop of
wheat, provided the wheat be harvested by the
middle of August. One ploughing will be suffi-
cient for these plants ; the best of which should
be selected from the seed-plot, and planted in
rows two feet asunder, and sixteen inches apart
in the rows. As rape is an excellent food for
sheep, they may be allowed to feed upon it in
the spring ; or the leaves might be gathered, and
138
RURAL ECONOMY.
given to oxen or young cattle : fresh leaves would
sprout again from the same stalks, which in like
manner might be fed off by ewes and lambs in
time enough to plough the land for a crop of
barley and oats. Planting rape in the begin-
ning of July, however, would be most advanta-
geous for the crop itself, as the leaves might then
be fed off in the autumn, and new ones would
appear in the spring. Our author discommends
the practice of sowing rape with turnips, as the
crops injure one another. ' Those who look for
an immediate profit,' says he, ' will undoubt-
edly cultivate rape for seed ; but perhaps it may
answer better in the end to feed it with sheep :
the fat ones might cull it over first, and after-
wards the lean or store-sheep might follow them,
and be folded thereon : if this is done in autumn
season, the land will be in good heart to carry a
crop of wheat ; or, where the rape is fed off in
the spring, a crop of barley might follow. In
either case, rape is profitable to the cultivator ;
and when it is planted, and well earthed round
the stems, it will endure the severest winter ; but
the same cannot be advanced in favor of that
which is sown broad cast.' In the Agricultural
Survey of Kent it is remarked, that this seed
is much cultivated on the poor lands of the
eastern part of that county, under the same man-
agement as turnips. Sometimes, although rarely,
it is sown for seed ; but most, commonly fed off
with lean flocks of sheep. Cattle and sheep,
when poor, are however very subject to be de-
stroyed by eating greedily of this plant.
Of coriander, canary, and some other seeds.—
Coriander is used in large quantities by distil-
lers, druggists, and confectioners, and might be
a considerable object to such farmers as live in
the neighbourhood of great towns ; but the price
is very variable. In the fourth volume of Bath
Papers, Mr. Hartley gives an account of an ex-
periment made on this seed, which proved very
successful. Ten perches of good sandy loam
were sown with coriander in March. 3 Ibs.
of seed were sufficient for this spot ; and
the whole expense amounted only to 5s. Wd.
The produce was 87 Ibs. of seed, which,
valued at 3d., yielded a profit of 15*. lid. or
£15 18i. 4rf. per acre. He afterwards made se-
veral other experiments on a larger scale ; but
none of the crops turned out so well, though all
of them afforded a good profit.
Canary seed has been cultivated in large quan-
tities in the Isle of Thanet, where it is said they
have had frequently twenty bushels to an acre.
Mr. Hartley sowed half an acre of ground, the
soil a mixture of loam and clay, but had only
eight bushels and a half, or seventeen bushels
per acre. With this produce, however, he had a
profit of £4 2*. 3d. per acre.
In Kent, where this seed is much cultivated,
Mr. Boys says, there are three kinds of tilths for
it, viz. summer fallow, bean stubble, and clover
lay ; the last he considers the best. If the land
is not very rich, a coat of rotten dung is fre-
quently spread for it. Whether manured or not,
the tillage necessary is to plough the land the
first opportunity that offers after wheat-sowing is
done ; and, as soon as the land is tolerably dry
in the spring, furrows are made about eleven or
twelve inches apart, and the seed is sown broad-
cast, about four or five gallons per acre, and
well harrowed in. When the blade appears, and
the rows are distinct, the intervals are imme-
diately hoed with a Dutch hoe, and afterwards,
in May or June, the hoeing is repeated with a
common hoe : carefully cutting up every weed,
and thinning the plants in the furrows, if they
are too thick. It is cut in the harvest, which is
always later than any corn crop, with a hook,
called a twibil and a hink ; by which it is laid
in lumps, or wads, of about half a sheaf of
each. The seed clings remarkably to the husk ;
and, to detach it, the crop must be left a long
time on the ground to receive moisture sufficient
to destroy the texture of the envelopment,
otherwise it would be hardly possible to thresh
out the seed. The wads are turned from time
to time, to have the full benefit of the rains and
sun.
Radish seed. — For this crop the land should
be clean, full of manure, and ploughed a good
depth in the early part of the winter. In Kent
they cultivate the early short top, the salmon,
and the turnip rooted. The seed is sown on
furrows, about ten inches apart : in a dry time
in the month of March, about two or three gal-
lons per acre. As soon as the plants appear,
every other row is cut up with a horse-hoe,
leaving the rows twenty inches apart. When
the plants get two or three rough leaves, they
are hoed out in rows, and are then kept clean by
repeated horse and hand-hoeing when necessary,
leaving the plants at about eighteen inches dis-
tance. The crop is seldom fit to reap till Octo-
ber, and sometimes is out in the fields till
Christmas, without receiving injury from wet
weather : it being necessary that it should have
much rain to rot the pods, that it may thresh
well. The produce is from eight to twenty-four
bushels per acre.
Spinach seed. — Two sorts of this seed are
cultivated, the prickly and the round : both are
sown in furrows, about twelve or fourteen inches
apart ; the prickly, six gallons per acre, and the
round four. 1'arly in March, when the plants
have leaves about an inch or two in length, they
are hoed out to the distance of four or five
inches. When the crop is in full bloom, the
greater part of the male plants are drawn out by
hand, and given profitably to young pigs ; by
which operation the female plants have more
room to grow, and perfect their seed. The crop,
when ripe, is pulled up, and threshed in the field
on a cloth, or carried to the barn for that pur-
pose.
Of wood. — The use of woad in dyeing is well
known (see ISATIS and WOAD), and the con-
sumption is so great that the raising of the
plant might undoubtedly be an object to a hus-
bandman, provided he could get it properly
manufactured for the dyers, and could overcome
their prejudices. The growing of this plant was
long in a manner monopolised in particular
places, particularly at Keynsham near Bristol.
Mr. Bartley informs us that, in a conversation
he had with these growers, the latter asserted
that the growth of woad was 'peculiar to their
soil. This is a blackish heavy mould, with a
RURAL ECONOMY.
139
considerable proportion of clay; but works
freely ; that of Brislington, where Mr. Bartley
resided, was a hazel, sandy loam : nevertheless,
having sowed half an acre of this soil with
woad seed, it throve so well that he never saw
a better crop at Keynsham. Woad grows to the
greatest advantage on a light black rich soil,
which has a southern situation. Land intended
for it should be dunged a year before it is sown
with this plant, and made first to bear a crop of
wheat, &c. This being taken off, three deep
stirrings should be given with the plough, the
first in November, and the other two in spring.
It is often sown so early as in the beginning of
April ; but, when it is too cold at that period,
the sowing must be deferred till May. Jn this
climate, however, it is often not sown until some
time later.
In some parts of Kent this plant is much cul-
tivated. It is frequently sown on poor, stiff, and
oome chalky lands, in the proportion of ten or
twelve Ibs. of seed to the acre, and among beans
before the last hoeing in the beginning of July.
It requires no culture while growing, unless the
land be full of weeds ; in which case the weeds
must be drawn out by the hand, or cut up with
a narrow hoe. When the plants have produced
their bloom up to the top of the stem, they are
pulled up, then tied by a single stalk in small
handfuls, and set up in a conical form to ripen.
When thoroughly dry, the seed is shaken out on
a cloth or into a tub, the plants being then bound
with rope-yarn into bundles, each weighing 30
Ibs. : sixty of these bundles make a load of woad,
the price of which is generally from £4 to £10.
The Keynsham growers are said to cultivate and
prepare it in the best manner.
Of madder. — This is a plant also used by the
dyers. See DYEING and RUDIA. It was for-
merly much cultivated in the eastern part of
Kent : ' I am firmly persuaded,' says Mr. Boys.
' that good crops of excellent madder may be
raised in Kent, on soils properly adapted for the
purpose ; and that it would be a profitable arti-
cle of culture, if it were never under £3 per cwt.,
nor would the buyers be injured by a restriction
to this price ; but then the legislature must inter-
fere to prevent the importation of the root from
Holland, where it can be cultivated cheaper.
Perhaps, (said he before the peace,) if that coun-
try should continue unfriendly to us, it might be
good policy to encourage the growth of madder at
home. I have many years been in the habit of
cultivating it ; but, from the low price at market,
have been obliged to abandon it. There have
been several modes of planting practised ; but
that which appears the best is to plant it in sin-
gle rows, about two feet apart. The land should
be perfectly clean from weeds, and have been
well manured the preceding year, so that the
dung may be well incorporated with the soil ;
which should be a fine deep, rich, sandy loam,
without any redundancy of moisture. To pre-
pare the land for planting, it should be ploughed
Hi the autumn, to have the benefit of the winter's
frost, and harrowed in dry weather in the spring,
and then kept clean by horse-hoeing, until the
nlanfs are ready for drawing, which is usually by
tiic end of May, or beginning of June: the
proper time is known by the plants having got
to the height of ten or twelve inches from the
ground, and having produced roots branching
out from the bottom of the suckers which will
be perceived by drawing up a few of them.
When the suckers are in this state, all hands
necessary for this work are to be provided, that
the operation may proceed with every possible
despatch. One acre requires about 20,000
plants. The plants should have about one-third
of their tops cut off, and then their roots should
be dipt in earth, or fine mould and water beaten
together to the consistence of batter; which
prevents the necessity of watering them. It re-
quires one woman to dip the plants, two to carry
and strew them in handfuls along the furrow,
and about seven to follow the plough. The land
should be ploughed with a strong turnwrest
plough with six horses, twelve or fourteen inches
deep : women attend to lay the plants about
eight or nine inches apart in every other furrow,
leaning off from the plough: by which, every
time the plough returns, the row of plants laid
in by women who follow the plough is covered
with the earth of the furrow. The crop must be
kept perfectly clean by the hoe and hand weed-
ing during the summer months, and earthed up
with the plough each autumn until the third
after planting, when the roots are dug up by
trenching the land two feet deep ; two children
attending each digger, in order to pick out the
roots.
The most proper time to take up the roots is
when they are about the size of a swan's quill ;
they then yield most dye, and are of course most
proper for use; but the time when they arrive
at this proper state depends not only on the
nature of the soil in which they have been
planted, but also on the good husbandry that has
been bestowed on the land.
For HOPS, see that article.
In Vol. II. of his Annals, Mr. Young informs
us, that ' one profit of hop land is that of break-
ing it up. Mr. Potter grubbed up one garden,
which failing, he ploughed and sowed barley,
the crop great ; then mazagan beans, two acres
of which produced sixteen quarters and five
bushels. He then sowed it with wheat, which
produced thirteen quarters and four bushels and
a half; but since that time the crops have not
been greater than common. The same gentleman
has had ten quarters of oats after wheat.' In the
ninth volume there is an account of an experi-
ment by Mr. Le Bland of Sittingbourne in Ke'H,
of grubbing up twelve acres of hop ground.
Part of the hops were grubbed up and mazagan
beans sown in their stead ; but the seed being
bad, and the summer dry, the crop turned out
very indifferent. Next year the remainder of the
hops were grubbed up, and the whole twelve
acres sown with wheat; but still the crops
turned out very bad, owing to the wet summer
of that year. It was next planted with potatoes,
which turned out well ; and ever since that tune
the crops have been good. This gentleman in-
forms us that the person who had the hop
ground above mentioned did not lose less by it
than .t'1500.
The culture of hups s e n> to be confined in a
140
RURAL ECONOMY.
great measure to the southern counties of Eng-
land ; for Mr. Marshal mentions it as a matter
of surprise that in Norfolk he saw a ' tolerably
large hop garden.' The proprietor informed
him that three or four years before there had
been ten acres of hops in the parish (Blowfield),
where he resided ; which was more than could
be collected in all the rest of the county ; but
at that time there were not above five ; and the
culture was daily declining ; as the crops, owing
to the low price of the commodity, did not de-
fray the expense. It is clear enough that hops
are the most uncertain and precarious crop on
which the husbandman can bestow his labor.
Mr. Young is of opinion that some improve-
ment in the culture is necessary ; but he does
not mention any, excepting that of planting them
in espaliers, a method long since recommended
both by Mr. Rogers and Mr. Potter. The former
took the hint from observing that a plant which
had been blown down, and afterwards shot out
horizontally, always produced a greater quantity
than those wKich grew upright. He also re-
marks that hops which are late picked carry
more next year than such as are picked early ;
for which reason he recommends the late pick-
ing. The only reason for picking early is that
the hops appear much more beautiful than the
others.
Of the cultivation of apples and pears. — In
Herefordshire and Gloucestershire the cultivation
of fruit, for the purpose of making a liquor from
the juice, forms a principal part of their hus-
bandry. In Devonshire also considerable quan-
tities of this kind of liquor are made, though
much less than in these two counties. For the
cultivation, curing, and management of fruit
trees in general, see HORTICULTURE.
The fruits cultivated in Herefordshire and
Gloucestershire are the apple, pear, and cherry.
From the two first are made the liquors named
cyder and perry. See CYDER and PERRY. Mr.
Marshal remarks that nature has furnished only
one species of pears and apples, viz. the com-
mon crab of the woods and hedges, and the wild
pear, which is also pretty common. The varie-
ties of these fruits are entirely artificial, being
produced not from seed, but by a certain mode
of culture ; whence it is the business of those
who wish to improve fruit to catch at superior
accidental varieties ; and, having raised them by
cultivation to the highest perfection of which
they are capable, to keep them in that state by
artificial propagation. Mr. Marshal, however,
observes that it is impossible to make varieties
of fruit altogether permanent, though their dura-
tion depends much upon management. ' A time
arrives, says he, ' when they can no longer be
propagated with success. All the old fruits
which raised the fame of the liquors of this
country are now lost, or so far on the decline as
to be deemed irrecoverable. The redstreak is
given up; the celebrated stir-apple is going off;
and the squash-pear, which has probably fur-
nished this country with more champaign than
was ever imported into it, can no longer be got
to flourish ; the stocks canker, and are unpro-
ductive. In Yorkshire similar circumstances
have tukrn place; several old fn ':•; which were
productive within my own recollection are lostj
the stocks cankered, and the trees would no lon-
ger come to bear.' Our author controverts the
common notion among orchard men that the
decline of the old fruits is owing to a want of
fresh grafts from abroad, particularly from Nor-
mandy, whence it is supposed that apples were
originally imported into this country. Mr. Mar-
shal, however, thinks that these original kinds
have been long since lost, and that the nume-
rous varieties of which we are now possessed
were raised from seed in this country. At Led-
bury he was shown a Normandy apple-tree,
which, with many others of the same kind, had
been imported immediately from France. He
found it, however, to be no other than the bitter-
sweet, which he had seen growing as a neglected
wilding in an English hedge.
The process of raising new varieties of apples,
Mr. Marshal says, is simple and easy. ' Select
among the native species individuals of the
highest flavor ; sow the seeds in a highly enriched
seed-bed. When new varieties, or the improve-
ment of old ones, are the objects, it may be eligi-
ble to use a frame or stove ; but, where the pre-
servation of the ordinary varieties only is wanted,
an ordinary loamy soil will be sufficient. At
any rate, it ought to be perfectly clean at least
from root weeds, and should be double dug from
a foot to eighteen inches deep. The surface
being levelled, and raked fine, the seeds ought to
be scattered on about an inch asunder, and
covered about half an inch deep with some of
the finest mould previously raked off the bed
for that purpose. During summer the young
plants should be kept perfectly free from weeds,
and may be taken up for transplantation the en-
suing winter ; or, if not very thick in the seed
bed, they may remain in it till the second win-
ter. The nursery ground ought also to be en-
riched, and double dug to the depth of fourteen
inches at least; though eighteen or twenty are
preferable. The seedling plants ought to be
sorted agreeably to the strength of their roots,
that they may rise evenly together, the top or
downward roots should be taken off, and the
longer side rootlets shortened. The young trees
should then be planted in rows three feet asun-
der, and from fifteen to eighteen inches distant
in the rows ; taking care not to cramp the roots
but to lead them evenly and horizontally among
the mould. If they be intended merely for
stocks to be grafted, they may remain in this
situation until they are large enough to be planted
out ; though, in strict management, they ought
to be re-transplanted two years before their be-
ing transferred into the orchard, ' in fresh but
unmanured double-dug ground, a quincunx four
feet apart everyway.' In this second transplan-
tation, as well as in the first, the branches of the
root ought not to be left too long, but to be
shortened in such a manner as to induce them
to form a globular root, sufficiently small to be
removed with the plant ; yet sufficiently large to
. give it firmness and vigor in the plantation.
Having thus proceeded with the seed bed, our
author adds the following directions : — ' Select
from among the seedlings the plants \\IIOM;
wood and leaves wear the most apple-like ap-
RURAL ECONOMY.
141
pearance. Transplant these into a rich deep
soil in a genial situation, letting them remain in
this nursery until they begin to bear. With the
seeds of the fairest, richest, and best flavored fruit,
repeat this process ; and at the same time, or in
due season, engraft the wood which produced
this fruit on that of the richest, sweetest, best
flavored apple ; repeating this operation, and
transferring the subject under improvement from
one tree and sort to another, as richness, flavor,
or firmness may require; continuing this double
mode of improvement until the desired fruit be
obtained. There has, no doubt, been a period
when the improvement of the apple and pear
was attended to in this country ; and, should not
the same spirit of improvement revive, it is pro-
bable that the country will, in a course of years,
be left destitute of valuable kinds of these two
species of fruit ; which, though they may in
some degree be deemed objects of luxury, long
custom seems to have ranked among the neces-
saries of life.' ,
In the Bath Papers, Vol. IV., JVIr. Grimwood
supposes the degeneracy of apples to be rather
imaginary than real. He says that the evil
complained of ' is not a real decline in the qua-
lity of the fruit, but in the tree ; owing either to
want of health, the season, soil, mode of plant-
ing, or the stock they are grafted on being too
often raised from the seed of apples in the same
place or county. I have not a doubt in my
own mind, but that the trees which are grafted
on the stocks raised from the apple-pips are
more tender than those grafted on the real crab-
stock ; and the seasons in this country have, for
many years past, been unfavorable for fruits,
which add much to the supposed degeneracy of
the apple. It is my opinion that, if planters of
orchards would procure the trees grafted on real
crab-stocks from a distant country, they would
find their account in so doing much overbalance
the extra expence of charge and carriage.' In
the same volume, Mr. Edmund Gillingwater
assigns as a reason for the degeneracy of apples
the mixture of various farina, from the orchards
being too near each other. In consequence of
this notion, he also thinks that the oldest and
best kinds of apple-trees are not lost, but only
corrupted from being planted too near bad
neighbours : ' Remove them,' says he, ' to a situ-
ation where they are not exposed to this incon-
venience, and they will immediately recover
their former excellency,'
With regard to the method of cultivating fruit-
trees, it is only necessary to add that, while they
remain in the nursery, the intervals betwixt them
may be occupied by such kitchen-stuff as will
not crowd or overshadow the plants ; keeping the
rows in the mean time perfectly free from weeds.
In pruning them, the leader should be particu-
larly attended to. If it shoot double, the weaker
of the contending branches should be taken off";
but if the leader be lost, and not easily recover-
able, the plant should be cut down to within a
hand's breadth of the soil, and a fresh stem
trained. The undermost boughs should be taken
off by degrees, going over the plants every win-
ter ; but taking care to preserve heads of suffi-
cient magnitude not to draw the stems up too
tall, which would make them feeble in the lower
part. The stems in Herefordshire are trained to
six feet high ; but our author prefers seven, or
even half a rood in height. A tall stemmed tree
is much less injurious to what grows below it
than a low headed one, which is itself in danger
of being hurt, at the same time that it hurts the
crop under it. The thickness of the stem ought
to be in proportion to its height ; for which rea
son a tall stock ought to remain longer in the
nursery than a low one. The usual size at which
they are planted out in Herefordshire is from four
to six inches girt at three feet high ; which size,
with proper management, they will reach in
seven or eight years. The price of these stocks
in Herefordshire is eighteen pence each.
In Herefordshire it is common to have the
ground of the orchards in tillage, and in Glouces-
tershire in grass ; which Mr. Marshal supposes
to be owing to the difference betwixt the soil of
the two counties; that of Herefordshire bein<(
generally arable, and Gloucester grass land.
Trees, however, are very destructive not only to
a crop of corn, but to clover and turnips ; though
tillage is favorable to fruit trees in general, espe-
cially when young. In grass grounds their pro-
gress is comparatively slow, for want of the earth
being stirred about them, and by being injured
by the cattle, especially when low-headed and
drooping. After they begin to bear, cattle ought
by all means to be kept away from them, as
they not only destroy all the fruit within their
reach, but the fruit itself is dangerous to the
cattle, being apt to stick in their throats and
choak them. These inconveniences may be
avoided by eating the fruit grounds bare before
the gathering season, and keeping the boughs out
of the way of the cattle ; but Marshal is of opi-
nion that it is wrong to plant orchards in grass
land. ' Let them,' says he, ' lay their old
orchards to grass ;• and, if they plant, break up
their young orchards to arable. This will be
changing the course of husbandry, and be at
once beneficial to the land and to the trees.' Our
author complains very much of the indolent and
careless method in which the Herefordshire and
Gloucestershire farmers manage their orchards.
Blight is a term, as applied to fruit trees,
which Mr. Marshal thinks is not understood,
Two bearing years, he remarks, seldom come to-
gether ; and he is of opinion that it is the mere
exhausting of the trees by the quantity of fruit
which they have carried one year that prevents
them from bearing any the next. The only thing
therefore that can be done in this case is to keep
the trees in as healthy and vigorous a state as
possible. Insects destroy not only the blossoms
and leaves, but some of them also the fruit,
especially pears. Mr. Marshal advises to set a
price upon the female wasps in the spring ; by
which these mischievous insects would perhaps
be exterminated, or at least greatly lessened.
An excess of fruit stints the growth of young
trees, and renders all in general barren for two
or three years ; while in many cases the branches
are broken off by the weight of the fruit ; and in
one case Mr. Marshal mentions that an entire
14-2
RURAL ECONOMY.
tree had sunk under its burden. To prevent as
much as possible the bad effects of an excess of
fruit, Mr. Marshal recommends to graft in the
boughs, and when fully grown to thin the bearing
branches ; thus endeavouring, like the gardener,
to grow fruit every year.
Though it is impossible to prevent the effects
of old age, yet, by proper management, the
natural life of fruit-trees may be considerably
protracted. The most eligible method is to graft
stocks of the native crab in the boughs. The
decline of the tree is preceded by a gradual de-
cline of fruitfulness, which long takes place be-
fore the tree manifests any sign of decay. During
this decline of fruitfulness there is a certain
period when the produce of a tree will no longer
pay for the ground it occupies, and beyond this
period it ought by no means to be allowed to
stand. In the Vale of Gloucester, however, our
author saw an instance of some healthy bearing
apple trees, which then had the second tops to
the same stems. The former tops, having been
worn out, were cut off, and the stumps saw-
grafted. Our author observes that the pear-tree
is much longer lived than the apple, and ought
never to be planted in the same ground. He
concludes with the following general observation :
* Thus, considering fruit-trees as a crop in hus-
bandry, the general management appears to be
this ; plant upon a recently broken up worn out
sward. Keep the soil under a state of arable
management, until the trees be well grown ; then
lay i* down to grass, and let it remain in sward
until the trees be removed, and their roots be
decayed ; when it will again require a course of
arable management.'
Of chei-ries andflberts. — In Kent they prefer
for this fruit a situation where there is a deep
surface of loam upon the rock. But by some it
is said that there is not any necessity for a great
depth of soil. In respect to distance apart,
cherry-trees require to be planted according to
their sorts ; a heart requiring double the distance
of a duke or mortllo. But, when planted by
themselves, they are generally placed from twenty
to thirty feet distant, and are put somewhat
deeper in the earth than apples ; but in other
respects the management is the same.
Cherry wine. — A cooling and pleasant drink
is made from the juice of cherries when properly
fermented. For making this liquor the cherries
should hang upon the trees till they are thorough-
ly ripe, in order that their juices may be better
perfected and enriched by the sun ; and they
should be gathered in dry weather. The juice
is then pressed out, and a quantity of sugar pro-
portioned to the intended strength of the wine is
to be added, and the whole regularly fermented.
When the wine is become fine it must be bottled
for use.
Filberts are much cultivated in some parts of
Kent. The soil best adapted for them is the
stone shattery sandy loam of a quality somewhat
inferior ; as it is a disadvantage for the trees to
grow with great luxuriance, they bearing most
nuts when bat moderately strong. If they are
planted among hops, without apples or cherries,
•hey are put about twelve feet apart ; when the
hops are dug up, the filberd plantation is kept
clean by repeated dig^ug and hoeing ; and
great skill is necessary in pruning to make them
bear well. It is indeed entirely owing to skill
and management in this operation that the trees
are rendered productive upon even a favorite
soil. These trees are generally trained in the
shape ot a punch bowl, and never suffered to
grow above five or six feet high, with short stems,
like a gooseberry bush, and exceedingly thin of
wood. If suffered to stand till ripe this fruit will
keep good for several years in a dry room or
closet ; but when gathered they should be laid
thin on the floor of a room where the sun can
get in to dry them properly.
Of raising trees for timber and other purposes.
— The importance and value of these is so well
known that it is almost superfluous to say any
thing on that subject : notwithstanding this ac-
knowledged value, however, the growth of timber
is so slow, and the returns for planting so distant,
that it is generally supposed for a Ions time to
be a positive loss or at least to be attended witli
no profit. This matter, however, when properly
"onsidered, will appear in another light. There
are four distinct species of woodlands, viz. woods,
timber groves, coppices, and woody waste*.
The woods are a collection of timber trees and
underwood ; and the coppices are collections of
underwood alone. All these turn out to advan-
tage sooner or later, according to the quick or
slow growth of the trees, and the situation of the
place with respect to certain local advantages.
Thus in some places underwood is of great con-
sequence, for rails, hoops, stakes, fuel, &c. ; and
by reason of its growth it may be accounted the
most profitable of all plantations. An osier-bed
will yield a return of profit the second or third
year, and a coppice in fifteen or twenty years ;
while a plantation of oaks will not arrive at per-
fection in less than a century. This last period
is so long that it may be supposed likely to deter
people from making such plantations of this kind,
as few are willing to take any trouble for what
they are never to see in perfection. It must be
remembered, however, that, though the trees
themselves do not come to perfection in a shorter
time, the value of the ground will always increase
in proportion to their age. Mr. Pavier, in the
Bath Papers, vol. iv., compute.; the value of
fifty acres of oak timber in 100 years to be
£12,100, which is nearly fifty shillings annually
per acre; and, as this is continually accumulating
without any of that expense or risk to which
annual crops are subject, planting of timber may
be accounted one of the most profitable articles
in husbandry. Evelyn calculates the profit of
1000 acres of oak land in 150 years, at no less
than £670,000. But it would be improper to
occupy with timber of such slow growth the
grounds which, either in grass or corn, can repay
the trouble of cultivation with a good annual crop.
In the Bath papers, vol. iv., Mr. Wagstaffc
recommends planting as an auxiliary to cultiva-
tion. He brings an. instance cf the success of
Sir William Jerringham, who made trial of the
most unpromising ground perhaps that any
successful planter has hitherto attempted. His
RURAL ECONOMY.
143
method was to plant beech trees at proper dis-
tances among Scotch firs, upon otherwise barren
heaths. ' These trees,' says Mr. Wagstaffe, ' in
a soil perhaps without clay or loam, with the
heathy sod trenched into its broken strata of
sand or gravel, under the protection of the firs,
have laid hold, though slowly, of the soil ; and,
accelerated by the superior growth of the firs,
have proportionally risen, until they wanted an
enlargement of space for growth when the firs
were cut down.' He adds that, when the firs
are felled, their roots decay in the ground ; and
hus furnish by that decay a new support to the
soil on which the beeches grow ; whereby the
latter receive an additional vigor, as well as an
enlargement of space and freer air; the firs
themselves, though cut down before they arrived
at their full growth, being also applicable to
many valuable purposes.
In the Annals of Agriculture, vol. vi., we find
the culture of trees recommended by Mr. Har-
ries; and he informs us that the larch is the
quickest grower and the most valuable of all the
resinous timber trees ; but, unless there be pretty
good room allowed for the branches to stretch
out on the lower part of the trunk, it will not
arrive at any consi'derable size ; and this obser-
vation, he says, holds good of all pyramidal
trees. Scotch firs may be planted between them,
and pulled out after they begin to obstruct the
growth of the larch. Some of these larches he
had seen planted about thirty years before,
which, at five feet distance from the ground,
measured from four feet to five feet six inches in
circumference. The most barren grounds, he
says, would answer for these trees, but better
soil is required for the oaks. In this paper he
takes notice of the leaves of one of his planta-
tions of oaks having been almost entirely de-
stroyed by insects ; in consequence of which
they did not increase in bulk as usual ; but
another, which had nearly escaped these ravages,
increased at an average one inch in circumfer-
ence. ' A tree four feet round,' says he, ' that
has timber twenty feet in length, gains by this
growth a solid foot of timber annually, worth
one shilling at least, and pays five per cent, for
standing. It increases more as the tree gets
from five to six feet round. I have in my groves
3000 oaks that pay me one shilling each per
annum, or £150 a year. My poplars have
gained in circumference nearly two inches, and
a Worcester and witch elm as much. I have
lately been informed that the smooth cut of a
holly tree, that measures twenty inches and up-
wards round, is worth to the cabinet makers
2s. 6d. per foot.'
The following table shows the increase of trees
in twenty-one years from their first planting.
It was taken from the marquis of Lansdowne's
plantation, begun in 1765, and the calculation
made on the 15th of July 1768. It is about
six acres in extent, the soil partly a swampy
meadow upon a gravelly bottom. The measures
were taken at five feet above the ground ; the
small firs having been occasionally drawn for
posts and rails, as well as rafters for cottages;
and, when peeled of the bark, will stand well
for seven years.
Height r.i
Feet.
Circumference in
Feet. Inch.
Lombardy poplar
60 to 80
4
8
Arbeal
50 to 70
4
6
Plane
50 to 60
3
6
Acacia
50 to 60
2
4
Elm .
40 to 60
3
6
Chestnut .
30 to 50
2
9
Weymouth pines
30 to 50
2
5
Cluster ditto
30 to 50
2
5
Scotch fir .
30 to 50
2
10
Spruce ditto
30 to 50
2
2
Larch
50 to 60
3
10
From this table it appears that planting of
timber trees, where the return can be waited
for during the space of twenty years, will un-
doubtedly repay the original profits of planting,
as well as the interest of the money laid out;
which is the better worth the attention of a pro-
prietor of land, that the ground on which they
grow may be supposed good for very little else.
From a comparative table of the growth of oak,
ash, and elm timber, given in the Annals of
Agriculture, vol. ii., it appears that the oak is by
much the slowest grower of the three.
With respect to the growth of underwood,
which in some cases is very valuable, it is to be
Remarked that, to have an annual fall of it, the
whole quantity of ground, whatever its extent
may be, ought to be divided into annual sowings.
The exact number of sowings must be regulated
by the uses to which it is intended to be put.
Thus, if, as in Surrey, stakes, edders, and hoops
are saleable, there ought to be eight or ten
annual sowings; or if, as in Kent, hop poles are
demanded, fourteen or fifteen will be required ;
and if, as in Yorkshire, rails be wanted, or, as
in Gloucestershire, cordwood be most marketa-
ble, eighteen or t%venty sowings will be necessary
to produce a succession of annual falls. Thus
the business, by being divided, will be rendered
less burdensome; a certain proportion being
every year to be done, a regular set of hands
will, in proper season, be employed ; and, by
beginning upon a small scale, the errors of the
first year will be corrected in the practice of the
second, and those of the second in that of the
third. The produce of the intervals will fall
into regular course; and, when the whole is
completed, the falls will follow each other in
regular succession. The greatest objection to
this method of sowing woodlands is the extra-
ordinary trouble in fencing; but this objection
does not hold if the sowings lie at a distance
from one another; on the contrary, if they lie
together, or in plots, the entire plot may be
enclosed at once ; and, if it contain a number of
sowings, some subdivisions will be necessary,
and the annual sowing of these subdivisions
may be fenced off with hurdles, or some other
temporary contrivance ; but, if the adjoining
land be kept under the plough, little temporary
fencing will be necessary. But, in raising a
woodland from seeds, it is not only necessary tc
defend the young plants against cattle and sheep
144
RURAL ECONOMY.
but against hares and rabbits ; so that a close
fence of some kind is absolutely necessary.
With regard to the preparation of the ground
for raising timber, if the soil be of a stiff clayey
nature, it should receive a whole year's fallow ;
if light, a crop of turnips may be taken ; but at
all events it must be made perfectly clean before
the tree seeds be sown, particularly from peren-
nial root weeds ; as, after the seeds are sown,
the opportunity of performing this necessary
business is in a great measure lost. If the situa-
tion be moist, the soil should be gathered into
wide lands, sufficiently round to let the water
run off 'from the surface, but not high. The
time of sowing is either October or March ; and
the method as follows : — 'The land being in fine
order, and the season favorable, the whole should
be sown with corn or pulse adapted to the season
of sowing; if in autumn, wheat or rye may be
the crop ; but if in spring, beans or oats.
Whichever of these species be adopted, the
quantity of seed ought to be less than usual, to
give a free admission of air, and prevent the
crop from lodging. The 'sowing of the grain
being completed, that of the tree seeds must be
immediately set about. These are to be put
in drills across the land ; acorns and nuts should
be dibbled in, but keys and berries scattered in
trenches or drills drawn with the corner of a
hoe, as gardeners sow their pease. The distance
mioht'be a quarter of a statute rod, or four feet
and one inch and a half. A land chain should
be used in setting out the drills, as not being
liable to be lengthened or shortened by the
weather. It is readily divided into roods ; and
the quarters may be easily marked.'
The species of underwood to be sown must
be determined by the consumption of it in the
neighbourhood. Thus, if stakes, hoops, &c.,
be in request, the oak, hazel, and ash, are es-
teemed as underwood. Where charcoal is
wanted for iron forges, beech is tbe prevailing
underwood. The oak, box, birch, &c., are all
in request in different countries, and the choice
must be determined by the prevailing demand.
As the keys of the ash sometimes lie two or even
three years in the ground, it will be proper to
have the places where they are sown distinguished
by some particular marks, to prevent them from
being disturbed by the plough after harvest ; as
a few beans may be scattered along with them, if
the crop be oats ; or oats if the crop be beans.
The crop should be reaped, not mown, at har-
vest time, and be carried off as fast as possible.
Between harvest and winter a pair of furrows
should be laid back to back in the middle of
each interval, for meliorating the next year's
crop, and laying the seedling plants dry; while
the stubble of thp unploughed ground on each
side of the drills will keep them warm during
the winter. The next year's cro*p may be pota-
toes, cabbages, turnips; or, if the first was
corn, this may be beans ; if the first was beans,
this may be wheat drilled. In the spring of the
' third year the drills which rose the first year
must be looked over, and the vacancies filled up
iiom those parts which are thickest; but the
drills of the ash should be let alone till the
fourth year. The whole should afterwards be
looked over from time to time ; and this, with
cultivating the intervals, and keeping the drills
free from weeds, will be all that is necessary
until the tops of the plants begin to appear.
The crops may be continued for several years ;
and, if they only pay for the expenses, they will
still be of considerable advantage, by keeping
the ground stirred, and preserving the plants
from hares and rabbits. Even after the crops
are discontinued, the ground ought still to be
stirred, alternately throwing the mould to the
roots of the plants, and gathering it into a ridge
in the middle of the interval. The best method
of doing this is to split the ground at the ap-
proach of winter, to throw it up to the trees on
both sides; this will preserve the roots from
frost ; gather it again in the spring, which will
check the weeds, and give a fresh supply of air;
split again at midsummer, to preserve the plants
from drought; gather, if necessary, in autumn,
and split as before at the approach of winter.
The spring and midsummer ploughings should
be continued as long as a plough can pass be-
tween the plants.
Whenever the oaks intended for timber are in
danger of being drawn up too slender for their
height, it will be necessary to cut off all the
rest at the height of about a hand-breadth above
the ground ; and those designed to stand must
now be planted at about two rods distant from
each other, and as nearly a quincunx as possible.
The second cutting must be determined by the
demand for the underwood ; with this proviso,
that the timber stands be not too mucji crowded
by it ; for, rather than this should be the case, the
coppice should be cut, though the wood may not
have reached its proper profitable state. What
is here said of the method of rearing oak trees
in woods is in a great measure applicable to
that of raising other trees in timber groves. The
species most usually raised in these are the ash,
elm, beech, larch, spruce fir, Weymouth pine,
poplar, willow, alder, chestnut, walnut, and
cherry. The three last are used as substitutes
for the oak and beech, and these two for the
mahogany.
PART V.
OF THE MANAGEMENT OF LIVE STOCK.
As great part of the stock of a husbandman
must always consist of cattle, and one of his
principal expenses is in the maintenance of
them, this part of his business is certainly to be
looked upon as important. The cattle belonging
to a farm may be divided into two classes, viz.
such as are intended for work, and such as are
designed for sale. The former are now princi-
pally horses. In the second volume of Bath
Papers, we have an account of a comparative
experiment of the utility of horses and oxen in
husbandry, by Mr. Kedington of Bury, in which
the preference is decisively given to oxen. He
says that when he began the experiment, in 1779,
he was almost certain that there was not an ox
worked in the whole country : finding, however,
the expense of horses very great, he purchased a
single pair of oxen, but found much difficulty in
breaking them, as the workmen were so much
RURAL ECONOMY.
145
prejudiced against them, that they would not
take the proper pains. At last he met with a
laborer who undertook the task ; and the oxen
' soon became as tractable and as handy, both at
ploughing and carting, as any horses.' On this
he determined to part with all his cart horses;
and when he wrote his letter (1781) he had not
a single horse, nor* more than six oxen; which
inconsiderable number performed, with ease, all
the work of his farm (consisting of upwards of
luO acres of arable land and sixty of pasture
uiid wood), besides the statute duty on the high-
ways, timber and corn, carting, harrowing, roll-
ing, and every part of rural business. They
are constantly shod ; their harness is the same
as that of horses (excepting the necessary
alterations for difference of size and shape);
they are driven with bridles and bits in their
mouths, answering to the same words of the
ploughman and carter as horses will do. A
single man holds the plough, and drives a pair
of oxen with reins: and our author informs us
that they will plough an acre of ground in less
than eight hours, or even in seven. The inter-
vals of a small plantation, in which the trees
are set in rows ten feet asunder, are ploughed
by a single ox with a light plough, and he is
driven by the man who holds it. The oxen go
in a cart either single, or one, -two, or three,
according to the load. Four oxen will draw
eighty bushels of barley or oats in a waggon
with ease ; and, if good of their kind, will travel
as fast as horses with the same load. One ox
will draw forty bushels in a light cart, which our
author thinks is the best carriage of any. On
the whole, he prefers oxen to horses for the fol-
lowing reasons: — 1. They are kept at much less
expense, never eating meal or torn of any kind.
In winter they are fed with straw, turnips, car-
rots, or cabbages : or, instead of the three last,
they have each a peck of bran per day while
kept constantly at work. In spring they eat
hay ; and, if working harder than usual in seed-
time, they have also bran. When the vetches
are fit for mowing, they get them only in the
stable. After the day's work in summer they
have a small bundle of hay, and stand in the
stable till they cool ; after which they are turned
into the pasture. Our author is of opinion that
an ox may be maintained in condition for the
same constant work as a horse for at least £4
less annually. 2. After a horse is seven years
old, his value declines every year ; and when
lame, blind, or very old, he is scarcely worth
any thing : but an ox in any of these situations
may be fatted, and sold for even more than the
first purchase ; and will always be fat sooner
after work than before. 3. Oxen are less liable
to diseases than horses. 4. Horses are often
liable to be spoiled by servants riding them
without their master's knowledge, which is not
the case with oxen. 5. A general use of oxen
would make beef plentiful, and consequently all
other meat ; which would be a national benefit.
Mr. Marshal, in his Rural Economy of the
Midland Counties, also shows the advantage of
employing oxen in preference to horses, from the
mere article of expense, which, according to his
calculation, is enormous on ».he part rf the horses.
VOL. XIX.
He begins with estimating the number of square
miles in England ; and this he supposes to be
30,000 of cultivated ground. Supposing the
work of husbandry to be done by horses only,
and each square mile to Employ twenty horses,
which is about three to 100 acres, the whole
number used throughout Britain would be
600,000 ; from which deducting one-sixth, for the
number of oxen now employed, the number will
be 500,000. Admitting that each horse works
ten years, the number of farm-horses which die
annually are 50,000 ; each of which requires full
four years keep before he is fit for work. .Horses
indeed are broken in at three, some at two years
old, but they are, or ought to be, indulged in
keep and work till they are six ; so that the cost
of rearing and keeping may be laid at full four
ordinary years. For all this consumption of
vegetable produce he returns the community not
a single article of food, clothing, or commerce ;
even his skin,' for economical purposes, being
barely worth the taking off. By working horses
in husbandry, therefore, ' the community is losing
annually the amount of 200,000 years keep of a
growing horse ; which, at the low estimate of £5
a-year, amounts to a million annually. On the
contrary, supposing the business of husbandry to
be done solely by cattle, and admitting that oxen
may be fatted with the same expenditure of ve-
getable produce as that which old horses require
to fit them for full work, and that^ instead of
50,000 horses dying, 50,000 oxen, of only fifty-
two stone each, are annually slaughtered ; it is
evident that a quantity of beef nearly equal to
what the city of London consumes would be an-
nually brought into the market ; or 100,000
additional inhabitants might be supplied with
one pound of animal food a-day each, without
consuming one additional blade of grass.' 'Oxen,'
adds Mr. Marshal, ' appear to be perfectly
handy, and work, either at plough or cart, in a
manner which shows that although horses may
be in some cases convenient, and in most cases
pleasurable to the driver, they are by no means
necessary to husbandry. A convenience used in
this country is a moveable harness-house, with a
sledge bottom, which is drawn from place to
place as occasion may require. Thus no labor is
lost either by the oxen or their drivers. In
Yorkshire oxen are still used, though in fewer
numbers than formerly. The Yorkshire plough
was formerly of such an unwieldy construction
that four or six oxen, in yokes, led by two
horses, were absolutely requisite to draw it ; but
the improvements in the construction of the
plough have of late been so great that two bones
are now sufficient for the purpose ; so that, as
Yorkshire has always been famous for its breed
of horses, we are not to wonder at the present
disuse of oxen.' For these and other reasons,
the employment of oxen at all is to Mr. Marshal a
convincing argument of their utility as beasts of
draught. The timber carriers still continue to us«
them, even though their employment be solely
upon the road. They find them not only able to
stand working every day, but to bear long hours
better than horses going in the same pasture. An
ox in a good pasture soon fills his belly, and lies
down to rest; but a horse can scarcely satisfy
L
146
R U II A L E 0 O N (.) M V.
his hunger in a short summer's night. Oxen are
also much superior at a difficult pull to horses.
Horses of draught cost, at four years old, from
£•20 to £30 ; they will, with extravagant keep,
extraordinary care and attendance, and much
good luck, continue to labor eight or ten years,
and may then generally be sold for 5s. a-head.
if we had no other species of animals adapted to
the purposes of draught in the island, cart-horses
would be very valuable. But it is evident that,
were only a small share of the attention paid to
the breeding of draught oxen which is now
bestowed on the breeding of cart-horses, animals
equally powerful, more active, less costly, equally
adapted to the purposes of husbandry if harnessed
with equal judgment, less expensive in keep and
attendance, much more durable, and infinitely
more valuable after 'they have finished their
labors, might be produced. A steer, like a colt,
ought to be familiarised to harness at two or
three years old, but should never be subjected to
hard labor until he be five years old ; from which
age, until he be fifteeu or twenty, he may be
considered as in his prime as a beast of draught.
'An ox,' says Mr. Marshal, 'which I worked
several years in Surrey, might, at seventeen or
eighteen years of age, have challenged, for
strength, agility, and sagacity, the best bred cart-
horse in the kingdom.'
Of horses, and the methods of breeding, rearing,
and feeding them. — The midland counties of
England have for some time been celebrated on
account of their breed of the black cart-horse ;
though Mr. Marshal is of opinion that this kind
are unprofitable as beasts of draught in husban-
dry. The present improvement in the breed took
its rise from six Zealand mares sent over by the
late lord Chesterfield during his embassy at the
Hague. These mares being lodged at his lord-
ship's seal at Bretby in Derbyshire, the breed of
horses thus became improved in that county, and
for some time it took the lead for the species of
these animals. As the improved breed passed
into Leicestershire, however, through some un-
known circumstances, it became still more im-
proved ; and Leicester has for some time taken
the lead. It is now found, however, that the
very large horses formerly bred in this district
are much less useful than such as are of a smaller
size. Mr. Marshal describes in lofty terms one
of these large horses, a stallion belonging to Mr.
Bakewell, which, he says, was the handsomest
horse he ever saw. ' He was,' says he, ' the
fancied war-horse of the German painters ; who,
in the luxuriance of imagination, never perhaps
excelled the natural grandeur of this horse. A
man of moderate size seemed to shrink behind
his fore end, which rose so perfectly upright,
that his ears stood (as Mr. Bakewell says every
horse's ears ought to stand) perpendicularly
over his fore feet. It may be said, with little
latitude, that in grandeur and symmetry of form,
viewed as a picturable object, he exceeded as far
the horse which this superior breeder had the
honor of showing to his majesty, and which was
afterwards shown publicly at London, as that
horse does the meanest of the breed.' A more useful
horse, l>m! aUo by Mr. Bakewell, however, is
described as having ' a thick carra-e, his back
short and straight, and his legs short and clean :
as strong as an ox, yet active as a poney ; equally
suitable for a cart or a lighter carnage.'
The stallions in this country are bred either by
farmers or by persons whose business it is to
breed them, and who therefore have the name of
breeders. See EQUUS and HORSE. These last
either cover with them, or let them out to others
for the season, or sell them. The prices given
for them are from fifty to 200 guineas by pur-
chase; from forty to eighty or 100 by the season ;
or from half a guinea to two guineas by the mare.
Mr. Marshal owns that this breed of horses are a
profitable species of live stock, and, as far as
there is a market for six-years-old-horses of this
breed, it is profitable to agriculture. ' But,' says
he, ' viewing agriculture in general, not one oc-
cupier in ten can partake of the profit ; and, being
kept in agriculture after they have reached that
profitable age, they become indisputably one of
its heaviest burdens. Even the brood mare,
after they have passed that age, may, unless they
be of a very superior quality, be deemed un-
profitable to the farmer.'
.Mr. Marshal complains that the ancient breed
of Norfolk horses is almost entirely worn out.
They were small, brown muzzled, and light boned,
but they could endure very heavy work, with little
food : two of them were quite equal to the plough
in the soil of that county, which is not deep. The
present breed is produced by a cross with a large
one of Lincolnshire and Leicestershire already
mentioned. He approves of the Suffolk breed,
which, he says, are a ' half-horse, half-hog race
of animals, but better adapted to the Norfolk
husbandry than the Leicestershire breed ;' their
principal fault, in his opinion, is a flatness of the
rib. In the Vale of Gloucester most farmers
rear their own plough horses. They are of a very
useful kind, the color mostly black, inclinable to
tan color, short and thick in the barrel, and low
on their legs. The price of a six-year-old horse
from £2*5 to £35. Some cart horses are bred in
Cotswold hills ; the mares are worked till the
time of foaling, but not while they suckle ; and
the foals are weaned early, while there is plenty
of grain upon the ground. Yorkshire, which has
been long celebrated for its breed of horses, still
stands foremost in that respect among the Kni;-
lish counties. It is chiefly remarkable for the
breed of saddle horses, which cannot be reared in
Norfolk, though many attempts have been made
for that purpose. Yorkshire stallions are often
sent into Norfolk; but, though the foals may I -.,-
handsome when young, they lose their beautv
when old. In Yorkshire, on the other hand,
though the foal be everso unpromising, it acquire-;
beauty, strength, and activity as it grows up.
Mr. Marshal supposes that from 5000 to 10,OOO
horses are annually bred up between the eastern
Morelands and the Humber. In the breeding of
horses he complains greatly of the negligence of
the Yorkshire people, the mares beini: almost
totally neglected ; though in the brute creation
almost every tiling depends upon the female.
With regard to the general maintenance of In
our author recommends the Norfolk manage-
ment of horses as the cheapest method of feeding
them practised an> where. In winter, when little
RURAL ECONOMY.
147
work is to be done, their only rack-meat is bar-
ley-straw ; a reserve of clover-hay being usually
made against the hurry of seed-time. A bushel
of corn in the most busy season is computed to
be an ample allowance for each horse, and in
more leisure times a much less quantity suffices.
Oats and sometimes barley, when the latter is
cheap and unsaleable, are given ; but in this case
the barley is generally malted, i. e. steeped and
afterwards spread abroad for a few days, until it
begin to vegetate, when it is given to the horses,
and is supposed to be less heating than in its
natural state. Chaff is universally mixed with
hoise corn; the great quantities of corn grown
in this country afford in general a sufficiency of
natural chaff; the chaff, or rather the awns of
barley, which in some places are thrown as use-
less to the dunghill, are here in good esteem as
provender. This method of keeping horses,
which Mr. Marshal approves of in the Norfolk
farmers, is practised, and probably has been so
from time immemorial, in many places of the
north of Scotland ; and is found abundantly suf-
ficient to enable them to go through the labor
required. In summer they are in Norfolk kept
out all night, generally in clover leys ; and in
summer their keep is generally clover only, a few
tares excepted.
In the Annals of Agriculture, vol. iv., Mr.
Young gives an account of the expenses of
keeping horses ; which, notwithstanding the vast
numbers kept in the island, seem still to be
very indeterminate, as the informations he re-
ceived varied no less than on his own farm of
the expense of horses kept from £8 to £25 a
year. From accounts kept for no other pur-
pose than that of agriculture he stated the
average of the whole at £ll 12$. 3d. On the
discordant accounts he received, Mr. Young ob-
serves that many of the extra expenses depend
on the extravagance of the servants ; while some
of the apparent savings depend either on their
carelessness, or stealing provender from their
beasts privately. He concludes, however, that ' the
more exactly the expense of horses is examined
into, the more advantageous will the use of oxen
be found.' Every day's experience convinces me
more and more of this. If horses kept for use
alone, and not for show, have proved thus ex-
pensive to me, what must be the expense to
those farmers who make their fat sleek teams an
object of vanity ? It is easier conceived than
calculated.'
Notwithstanding all these strong arguments,
urged by Mr. Young, Mr. Henry Harper, an
eminent Lancashire farmer, in a comparative
view of the expense of the purchase and keep of
three horses and three oxen for one year, makes
a balance of £44 Os. 6d. in favor of horses. But
in the calculation he states 49s. per week, or
£127 8s. a year, for gain by his horse team.
The Suffolk punch is a very useful animal for
labor, according to Culley. ' Their color is
mostly yellowish or sorrel, with a white ratch or
blaze on their faces; the head large, ears wide,
muzzle coarse, fore-end low, back long but very
straight, sides flat, shoulders too far forward,
hind quarters middling but rather high about the
laps, lei;s round and short in the pasterns, deep-
bellied and full in the flank. Here, perhaps,
lies much of the merit of these horses ; for we
know, from observation and experience, that all
deep-bellied horses carry their food long, and
consequently are enabled to stand longer and
harder days' works. However, certain it is that
these horses do perform surprising days' works.
It is well known that the Suffolk and Norfolk
farmers plough more land in a day than any other
people in the island ; and these are the kind of
horses every where used in those districts.' — Cul-
ley on Live Stock, p. 27.
Another horse in high repute for labor with
the farmers in Scotland, and the north of Eng-
land, is the Clydesdale: it is probably equal,
says Mr. Cleghorn, to any other breed in Britain
Of the breeding and rearing of cattle. — These
are reared for two different purposes, viz. for
work, and for slaughter. For the former purpose
Mr Marshal remarks that it is necessary to pro-
cure a breed without horns. This he thinks
would be no disadvantage, as horn, though for
merly an article of some request, is now of very
little value. The horns are useless to cattle in
their domestic state, though nature has bestowed
them upon them as weapons of defence in their
wild state ; and our author is of opinion that it
would be quite practicable to produce a hornless
breed of black cattle as well as of sheep, which
last has been done by attention and persever-
ance; and there are now many hornless breeds
of sheep in Britain. Nay, he insists that there
are already three or four breeds of hornless cattle
in the island ; and that there are many kinds of
which numbers of individuals are hornless, and
from these, by proper care and attention a breed
might be formed. The first. step is to select fe-
males ; and, having observed their imperfections,
to endeavour to correct them by a well chosen
male.
The other properties of a perfect breed of
black cattle for the purposes of the dairy as well
as others, according to Mr. Marshal, are as fol-
lows : — 1. The head small and clean, to lessen
the quantity of offal. 2. The neck thin and
clean, to lighten the fore end as well as to lessen
the collar and make it sit close and easy to the
animal in work. 3. The carcase large, the chest
deep, and the bosom broad, with the ribs stand-
ing out full from the spine ; to give strength of
frame and constitution, and to admit of the in-
testines being lodged within the ribs. 4. The
shoulders should be light of bone, and rounded
off at the lower point, that the collar may be
easy, but broad to give strength ; and well co-
vered with flesh for the greater ease of draught,
as well as to furnish a desired point in fatting
cattle. 5. The back ought to be wide and level
throughout ; the quarters long ; the thighs thin,
and standing narrow at the round bone ; the ud-
der large when full, but thin and loose when
empty, to hold the greater quantity of milk; with
large dug veins to fill it, and long elastic teats for
drawing it off with greater ease. 6. The legs,
below the knee and hock, straight, and of a
middle length ; their bones, in general, light and
clean from fleshiness, but with the joints and
sinews of a moderate size, for the purposes of
strength and activity. 7. The flesh ought to be
!. 1
.148
RURAL ECONOMY.
mellow in the state of fleshiness, ami firm in the
state of fatness. 8. The hide mellow and of a
middle thickness.
As the milk of cows is an article of great im-
portance, it is an object to the husbandman, if
possible, to prevent the waste of that useful fluid
which in the common way of rearing calves is
unavoidable. A method of bringing up these
young animals at less expense is proposed by the
duke of Northumberland. His plan is to make
skimmed milk answer the purpose of that which
is newly drawn from the teat ; and which, he
supposes, might answer the purpose at one-third
of the expense of new milk. The articles to be
added to the skimmed milk are treacle and the
common linseed oil cake, ground very fine, and
almost to an impalpable powder : the quantities
of each being so small that to make thirty-two
gallons would cost only sixpence, besides the
skimmed milk. It mixes very readily, and al-
most intimately, with the milk, making it more
rich and mucilaginous, without giving it any
disagreeable taste. The recipe for making it is
as follows : — Take one gallon of skimmed milk,
and to about a pint of it add half an ounce of
treacle, stirring it until it is well mixed; then
take one ounce of linseed oil cake finely pulver-
ised, and with the hand let it fall gradually in
very small quantities into the milk, stirring it in
the mean time with a spoon or ladle until it be
;horoughly incorporated; then let the mixture
be put into the other part of the milk, and
the whole be made nearly as warm as new milk
when it is first taken from the cow, and in that
state it is fit for use. The quantity of the
oil-cake powder may be increased as occasion
requires, and as the calf becomes inured to its
flavor.
On this subject Mr. Young remarks that, in
rearing calves, there are two objects of great im-
portance. 1. To bring them up without any
milk at all ; and, 2. To make skimmed milk
answer the purpose of such as is newly milked
or sucked from the cow. In consequence of
premiums offered by the London Society, many
attempts have been made to accomplish these
desirable purposes ; and Mr. Budel, of Wanbo-
rough in Surrey, was rewarded for an account of
his method. This was to give the calves a gruel
made of ground barley and oats. But Mr.
Young, who tried this method with two calves,
assures us that both of them died. When in
Ireland he had an opportunity of purchasing
calves at three days old from Is. 8d. to 3s. each ;
by which he was led to repeat the experiment
many times over. This he did in different ways,
having collected various recipes. In consequence
of these he tried hay tea, bean meal mixed with
wheat flow, barley and oats ground nearly but
not exactly in Mr. Budel's method ; but the
principal one was flax seed boiled into a jelly,
and mixed with warm water : this being recom-
mended more than all the rest. The result of all
these trials was that, out of thirty calves, only
three or four were reared ; these few were
brought up with barley and oatmeal, and a very
small quantity of flax seed jelly : one only ex-
cepted, which at the desire of his coachman was
brought up on a mixture of two-thirds of
skimmed milk and one-third of water, with a
smalt addition of flax seed jelly well dissolved.
The second object, namely, that of improving
skimmed milk, accord-ing to the plan of the duke
of Northumberland, seems to be the more
practicable of the two. Mr. Young informs- us
that it has answered well with him for two sea-
sons ; and two farmers to whom he communicat-
ed it gave likewise a favorable report.
In vol. iii. of the same work we are informed
that the Cornwall farmers use the following me-
thod in rearing their calves: — 'They are taken
from the cow from the fourth to the sixth da\ ;
after which they have raw milk from six to u-n
or fourteen days. After this they feed them
with scalded skimmed milk and gruel made of
shelled oats, from three quarts to four being given
in the morning, and the same in the evening.
The common family broth is thought to be better
than the gruel. The proportion of gruel or
broth is about one-third of the milk given
themr A little fine hay is set before them, which
they soon begin to eat.'
In vol. v. of Bath Papers, we have an account
by Mr. Crook of a remarkably successful expe-
riment in rearing calves without milk at all.
This gentleman, in 1787, weaned seventeen
calves; in 1788, twenty-three; and in 1789
fifteen. In 1787 he bought three sacks of lin-
seed, value £2 5s. which lasted the whole three
years. One quart of it was put to six quarts of
water ; which, by boiling ten minutes, was rt-
duced to a jelly ; the calves were fed with this
mixed with a small quantity of tea made by
steeping the best hay in boiling water. By the
use of this food three times a day, he says that
his calves throve better than those of his neigh-
bours which were reared with milk. — These un-
natural kinds of food, however, are In many
cases apt to produce a looseness, which in the eml
proves fatal to the calves. In Cornwall fhey re-
medy this sometimes by giving acorns as an
astringent ; sometimes by a cordial of which
opium is the basis. In Norfolk the calves are
reared with milk and turnips ; sometimes with
oats and bran mixed among the latter. Winter
calves are allowed more milk than summer ones;
but they are universally allowed new milk, or
even to suck.
According to Parkinson there seem to be two
distinct kinds of Welsh cattle. 'The large sort
are of a brown color, with some white on the rump
and shoulders,denoting a cross from the long horns,
though in shape not the least resembling them.
They are long in the legs, stand high according
to their weight, are thin in the thigh, and rather
narrow in the chine ; their horns are white and
turned upwards; they are light in flesh, and,
next to the Devons, well formed for the yoke;
have very good hoofs, and walk light and nimble.
The other sort is much more valuable; color
black, with very little white ; of a good useful
form, short in the leg, with round deep bodies ;
the hide is rather riiin, with short hair ; they have
a likely look and a good eye ; and the bones,
though not very small, are neither large nor
clumsy ; and the cows are considered good
milkers.' (Parkinson on Live Stock, vol. i. p
135).
RURAL ECONOMY.
149
Aldrrney cattle are much prized in England
for the sake of their milk, which is rich, and not
always small in quantity. The race is consider-
ed by competent judges as too delicate and ten-
der to be propagated to any extent in Britain.
Their color is mostly yellow, light red, or dark
dun, with white or mottled faces; they have
short horns, are small in size, and often ill shap-
ed ; yet are they fine in bone ; and their beef,
though high colored, is welf flavored. Mr.
Culley says he has seen some very useful
cattle bred from a cross between an Alderney
cow and a short horned bull. See Bos.
' Whatever be the breed,' says Mr. Culley, ' I
presume that, to arrive at excellence, there is
one form or shape essential to all, which form I
shall attempt to give in the following description
of a bull.
' The head of the bull should be rather long,
and muzzle fine; his eyes lively and prominent;
his ears long and thin ; his horns white ; his
neck rising with a gentle curve from the shoulders,
and small and fine where it joins the head ; his
shoulders moderately broad at the top, joining
full to his chine and chest backwards, and to the
neck-vane forwards ; his bosom open ; breast
broad, and projecting well before his legs ; his
arms or fore thighs muscular, and tapering to
his knee ; his legs straight, clean, and very fine
boned ; his chine and chest so full as to leave
no hollow behind the shoulders ; the plates
strong to keep his belly from sinking below the
level of his breast; his back or loin broad,
straight, and flat ; his ribs rising above one another,
in such a manner that the last rib shall be rather
the highest, leaving only a small space to the
hips or hooks, the whole forming a round or bar-
rel-like carcase ; his hips should be wide placed,
round or globular, and a little higher than the
back ; the quarters (from the hip to the rump)
long, and, instead of being square, as recom-
mended by some, they should taper gradually
from the hips backward, and the turls or pott-
bones not in the least protuberant ; rumps close
to the tail ; the tail broad, well haired, and
set on so high as to be in the same horizontal
line with his back.' (Culley on Live Stock,
p. 38.)
Oftkfep. — According to Culley there are four-
teen different breeds of sheep in Great Britain,
a"l of them readily distinguishable by their horns,
or by being hornless, by the color of their faces
and legs, and by the length and quality of their
wool. Parkinson (on Live Stock, vol. i. p. 249)
enumerates no fewer than thirty-seven breeds.
' Perhaps,' says the article Agriculture, Supple-
ment to Encyclopaedia Britannica, ' the most eli-
gible mode of classification would be, to consi-
der separately those races which are best adapt-
ed to enclosed arable land ; those which occupy
green hills, downs, and other tracts of moderate
elevation ; and, finally, such as inhabit the higher
hills, and mountains. On the first description of
land every sort of practicable improvement may
be effected, though there the carcase has hitherto
been the chief object ; on the second, the carcase
is smaller but the wool generally finer, — and it
is probably with such sheep that the greatest
improvements ought to be attempted on the
fleece ; and, on the last division, the breeds are
necessarily small and hardy, and, in regard to
form and general properties, still almost in a
state of nature. The improvement of sheep
must mainly depend on the circumstances of
every district, in regard to the food and shelter
it affords them ; and it is only where these in-
dispensable requisites are abundantly provided
by nature, or by human industry, that the most
skilful management can be successful.
Culley gives, as in the case of cattle, his iJeaof
the best general form of the male : — ' His head,'
he says, of the ram, ' should be fine and small,
his nostrils wide and expanded, his eyes pro-
minent, and rather bold or daring, ears thin, his
collar full from his breast and shoulders, but ta-
pering gradually all the way to where the neck
and head join, which should be very fine and
graceful, being perfectly free from any coarse
leather hanging down ; the shoulders broad and
full, which must at the same time join so easy to
the collar forward, and chine backward, as to
leave not the least hollow in either place ; the
mutton upon his arm, or fore-thigh, must come
quite to the knee ; his legs upright, with a clean
fine bone, being equally clear from superfluous
skin and coarse hairy wool from the knee and
hough downwards ; the breast broad and well
forward, which will keep his fore-legs at a pro-
per wideness ; his girth or chest full and deep,
and, instead of a hollow behind the shoulders,
that part by some called the fore-flank should be
quite full; the back and loins broad, flat, and
straight, from which the ribs must rise with a
fine circular arch ; his belly straight, the quarters
long and full, with the mutton quite down to the
hough, which should neither stand in nor out;
his twist deep, wide, and full, which, with the
broad breast, will keep his four legs open and
upright; the whole body covered with a thin
pelt, and that with fine, bright, soft wool. The
nearer any breed of sheep comes up to the above
description, the nearer they approach towards
excellence of form.'
This kind of stock is highly advantageous to
the farmer in various points of view : as supply-
ing food and clothing, and as a means of im-
proving the farm. See Ovis, SHEEP, and WOOL.
The sheep of different counties excel in these
different properties, and in some parts they have
been much improved by crossing the breeds.
Kent, in his Survey of Norfolk, observes, that
there ought always to be some affinity or simili-
tude between the animals which are crossed. It
is, says he, a manifest incongruity to match a
Norfolk and a Leicester sheep ; or a Norfolk
and a South Down ; or any long-woolled sheep
with a short -woolled ; but a Leicestershire sheep
may be matched, with some degree of propriety
witli a Cottswold ; and a South Down sheep with
a Berkshire or a Herefordshire Ryland.
In the Survey of Staffordshire Mr. Pitt says,
the Wiltshires crossed by a heavy ram have pro-
duced sheep, at little more than two years old,
of forty pounds per quarter, and which have
been sold to the butcher at £3 10s. each. The
Dorsetshire breed, which are well made and
compact, have often answered well, and are, in
the opinion of some experienced farmers, equal
150
RURAL E C O N O M Y.
to any other breed. The fact is, that any breed
of sheep, if sound and healthy, may be enlarged
and improved by good keeping, and by crossing
with rams selected with attention.
The best sheep for fine wool are said to be
those bred in Herefordshire and Worcestershire ;
but they are small and black faced, and conse-
quently bear but a small quantity. Warwick,
Leicester, Buckingham, and Northamptonshire,
breed a large-boned sheep, of the best shape,
and deepest wool. The marshes of Lincolnshire
also breed a very large kind of sheep, but their
wool is not good. The northern counties in
general breed sheep with long, but hairy wool ;
and Wales breeds a small hardy kind of sheep,
which has the best tasted flesh, but the worst
wool of all. The farmer, according to some
writers, should always buy his sheep from a
worse land than his own, and they should be
big-boned, and have long greasy wool curling
close and well. These sheep always breed the
finest wool, and are also the most approved of
by the butcher.
E'itt, in his Survey of Staffordshire, tells us, in
that populous manufacturing county the consi-
derable demand for lamb, as well as mutton, in-
duced a great proportion of farmers to keep none
other than an annual stock of sheep, consisting
of ewes bought in at Michaelmas from Cannock
Heath, Sutton Coldfield, the common of Shrop-
shire, and sometimes even from Gloucestershire,
Wiltshire, and Dorsetshire. These ewes being
immediately put to a ram, the lambs in spring
are suckled till they are fit for the butcher ; they
are then sold, and the ewes kept in good pasture,
fatted and sold after them, and the whole stock
generally cleared off within the year: the lambs
and wool generally pay the original purchase of
the ewe, and sometimes more ; and the price of
the fat ewe remains for keeping and profit. He
observes that the rams of Mr. Fowler, a celebrated
breeder of this kind of stock, are stout, broad-
backed, wide on the rump, and well made, with
fine wool to the very breech ; the largest of them
would, he believes, fatten to more than thirty
pounds the quarter ; and the smallest would be
considerably above twenty pounds. Great at-
tention has been paid for several years past to
improving this breed both in wool and carcasses.
But Mr. Fowler himself thinks the breed is now
pushed rather too far in bulk and weight, for the
pasturage of the common, or even of the neigh-
bourhood, unless they are driven into better
land for fatting. But he is clearly of opinion
that pushing or increasing the size or bulk of
sheep by improving their pasturage, or removing
i Item to a better pasture, does not at all tend to
injure the staple, or degenerate the fineness of
clothing wool, provided due attention be paid to
selecting the tinest-woolled rams. The Leices-
tershire breeds, he says, are of two kinds, the
old and the new. The old Leicesters are large,
thick, heavy sheep, with long combing wool ; the.
new Leicester breed is a refinement upon the
old, by crossing with a finer-boned and a finer-
woolled ram. These are now established in
various parts of Staffordshire, and increasing in
oilier places. The old Leicester breeds are cross-
ing with the new, which bids fair to produce a
very good breed ; there being many instances
in which the old breed were become too coarse,
and the new too fine. The stock of Mr. Dyott,
of Freeford near Litchfield, a gentleman who has
attended much to this subject, is closely bred
from the new Leicester breed, by rams for many
years procured from the best breeds. His farm-
ing is to the extent of 800 acres or more; and
the main object sheep. His stock of breeding
ewes is 2(30, and* he never sells a lamb, which
upon the avenxyje rearing is about 300. lie in-
formed our author that his annual sales from
sheep and wool amounted upon an average to
£650, that his sheer hogs or yearling wethers
generally go to the butcher at two guineas each ;
and the culls of this age make 35s. each ; and
by keeping to February he has sometimes sold
them at 50s. each, under two years old. He has
several times killed sheep kept to a greater age,
that have weighed forty pounds per quarter.
Mr. Pitt says that there are some other flocks,
such as those of lord Bagot's tenants, and parti-
cularly some lately belonging to Mr. Harvev,
his lordship's steward, that deserve attention.
This breed is gaining ground fast, and is sup-
posed by many to be the best pasture sheep-flock
in the kingdom. The superiority consists in this,
that the pastures may be stocked much harder
with these than any other stock of equal weight :
as they are always fat, even when suckling
lambs. The ewes, full grown, will weigh from
twenty to twenty-five pounds per quarter ;
wethers at two years old about the same ; but
when kept another year they rise to thirty
pounds per quarter. The fleeces weigh from
seven to ten pounds. These sheep he describes
to be fine and light in the bone ; thick and
plump in the carcase ; broad across the loin,
with the back bone not rising into a ridge, but
sinking in a nick, and a double chine of mutton
rising on either side ; fine and clean in the neck
and shoulder ; not too short in the leg ; and of
a sufficient bulk in the carcase to rise to the
weight above-mentioned.
In Norfolk, those who keep ewe flocks, Mr.
Kent observes, find them answer extremely well ;
for, besides the fleece and manure, the average
price of the lambs is 12s. Those who buy the
wether lambs with a view of bringing them up for
fatting stock, after keeping them eighteen or
nineteen months, generally sell them at an ave-
rage of 30s., which is a very handsome profit.
Mr. Boys informs us that the management of
sheep in the different parts of Kent is as fol-
lows : — In the eastern part the flock farmers buy
in lambs at Romney fair the 20th August, at from
12s. to 14s. each ; and when they have kept them
two yeacs they either sell them lean to the fatting
grazier, or fatten them themselves on turnips and
pea or bean straw. Oats, and cullings of garden
beans, are sometimes given to finish them in tho
spring. When these two yearling sheep are sold
in autumn to the graziers, the price is from 2 l.v.
to 28s. each ; and when made fat they product-
from 34s. to 42s. according to their size and fat-
ness. Hut these prices have lately considerabl)
advanced. The few sheep bred in the marshes
are of the same sort, except some small parcels
of Dorsetshire and South Down cwos. But al>
RURAL ECONOMY.
151
most the whole of the sheep kept on the upland
farms of East Kent are the true Romney marsh
bi oed ; whose carcases and bones being large,
and wool long and heavy, they require rich land
and good keep to make them fat. Mr. Boys
keeps no other than South Down sheep, and has
every reason to be satisfied with them : his flock
is about 1000, 400 of which are breeding ewes.
In the isle of Sheppey the sheep are of the
Romney marsh sort, true Rents. The soil being
much inferior to Romney marsh, the sheep are
somewhat smaller ; and, from the same cause,
their wool is lighter and finer. The wethers are
fattened at three years old, then weighing from
twenty to twenty-four pounds per quarter. The
sheep mostly kept in the district of West Kent
are the South Down sort, bought in wether
lambs at the autumnal fairs on the Downs, Oc-
tober 2nd. The usual practice with the lambs
in the Romney marshes is that of sending them,
about the beginning of September, to be kept by
the neighbouring upland -or hill farmers during
the winter. They go in separate lots, being re-
ceived at certain appointed places by the far-
mers, and driven to the houses or taken to the
farms by their servants. They are then com-
monly put upon the stubbles or grattons, as they
are called ; but in some cases they have also
pastures to run upon, though too little attention
is, in general, paid to the changing of them ; by
which they suffer much, and are ofbn greatly in-
jured, especially such as are weakly and deli-
cate. It is found that there is a prodigious
benefit in keeping the lambs in winter, in such
situations, in having the grounds dry and warm,
instead of being of a cold, wet, clayey nature.
Lambs should by no means be stocked along
with the ewes, as the old sheep will constantly
take the feed, and stench the land, by which the
lambs may be greatly hurt. They should always
be stocked separately, and the pastures be fre-
quently changed, circumstances which are little
regarded here. Some think that lambs do not
thrive well on being put to grass, after having
been fed on luxuriant food, such as turnips, old
tares, rye-grass, &c. The price of the keeping
of lambs in these cases is very different ; some
paying only 3s. 6d. the lamb, while others pay
5s. ; and where no neat stock are kept they charge
as high as from 6s. to 6s. 6d. the head, for the
space of about six months. This is but a late
advance; however it makes the price of keep
a serious object. The loss of lambs in this sys-
tem of winter management is occasionally con-
siderable, but depends much on the nature of
the season, as to mildness or severity, amounting
in some cases to four or more in TOO.
The tegs, or one-year old lambs, in this system
are brought from the uplands, where they have
been wintered too often in a low state of con-
dition, for the supply of the marsh graziers,
which enables them to keep more ewes and fat-
tening sheep on the marsh lands. This is done
about the beginning of April, when the upland
farmers are indulged with a feast or treat at the
expense of the graziers, as a recompense for their
care and attention to the lambs, in which libe-
rality has a great effect. As the flocks reach the
marsh, they are put into the poorest pastures, at
'he rate ot five to the acre, their old sheep being
just sold to make room for them. Tlu.se are
commonly the best conditioned tegs, in which
there may sometimes be loss from the sudden
transition from poor to too good keep, though
they are not, in general, so subject to some sorts
of disease as the old ones, on such changes being
made in their food. The marsh sheep-graziers
have lately been much in the practice of prevail-
ing on the farmers to keep such flocks a fort-
night, or even douhle that time, on turnips,
which has the advantage of enabling them to
double the stock on the same pastures during
the summer; while, on the other hand, it is evi-
dent that, when they are so hard stocked early in
the spring, they can neither have so luxuriant a
growth nor be so full of grass. The pastures
are likewise eased gradually, as the fat ewes or
wethers are taken off, and their places supplied
by the wether-tegs, while the ewe-tegs are suf-
fered to remain on their original pastures until
they are selected, or set for going to the rams.
The wether tegs in the autumn are removed to
the fatting, and the ewe-tegs to the breeding
grounds, among the two and three yearling ewes.
The wethers remain till July or August following,
when, as they become fat, they are drawn out
and sold to the butchers at the marsh markets,
or sent to Smithfield. The two-yearling wethers,
when fat, at this season weigh from twenty to
twenty-eight pounds per quarter ; and some of
the largest and best fed a few pounds more. The
old ewes, there called barrens, are put to fattening
as soon as their milk is dried after the third
lamb, which is at the age of four years, on some
of the best lands ; where they are placed, from
two to three per acre, for the winter. These, in
favorable winters, are sometimes made fat, and
sold in the spring. The practice of fattening
sheep on turnips, assisted by oil cake, corn, hay,
saintfoin, &c., is greatly in use among the upland
farmers of this county ; not so much for the
profit by feeding with those articles, as for the
great improvement of the soil where the turnips
are fed off. The manure from sheep fed on oil
cake and turnips is reckoned very enriching to
the land. A great number of fold flocks of lean
sheep are kept by the farmers in the east part of
the county, of from eight to twenty score. These
are each attended by a shepherd, who removes
the fold every morning to fresh ground, at six
o'clock in summer, and at break of day in win-
ter : the flock is then driven away to the most
inferior keep at the first part of the morning, and
is returned into the fold for two or three hours
in the middle of the day, while the shepherd
goes to dinner ; in the afternoon it is gradually
led to the best keep in the farm, that the sheep
may return full fed to the fold in the evening.
Great caution is necessary in feeding sheep on
clover in summer, and on turnips in the first part
of winter.
Mr. Robertson has insetted the following ac-
count of feeding ewes with early lambs in his
Survey of Mid Lothian, as stated by an accurate
observer. The number in all was sixty ; fed off
in four weeks the expense was £12. Thus each
lamb cost 4s. The expense of twenty fed five
weeks was £5 12s. 6d., or 5s. 7%d. each lamb : —
' Feeding on grass takes six weeks to feed off.
The average rent of good grass may be £2 pe*
152
RURAL ECONOMY.
acre, which will feed off four ewes with lambs.
He considers six weeks from the middle of April,
the usual time of laying on, to be full one-half
of the value of the grass for that season ; hence
the lambs cost 5s. each in that time. In turnip
feeding sheep, by flaking them on the field,
twenty sheep eat an acre in fourteen weeks. If
they be led off to a grass field, ten score will
tathe or dung an acre in seven days, worth £2
lOs. As to feeding in the house, he finds the
dung worth the trouble of carting, and the value
of the straw it takes for litter, lie finds also the
lambs fed on grains not only sooner ready, but
more white and firm in the flesh ; the ewes are
also in better condition. He likewise found that,
at times, to mix a little salt among the grains
was of great service ; but it was necessary to
avoid, above all things, giving them grains when
sour, or old kept; and of importance also to feed
them regularly, and to give them fresh clean
litter every day.' A sheep will consume about
twenty pounds of turnips in twenty-four hours,
if it he allowed as many as it can eat, which
should always be allowed to fat sheep ; but, as
sheep vary in size, so they will consume more or
less food.
The Teeswater breed of sheep is said to be the
largest in Great Britain ; is at present the most
prevalent in the fine fertile lands on the banks of
the Tees in Yorkshire ; and supposed to be from
the same stock as those of the Lincolns. It is a
breed only calculated for warm rich pastures,
where they are kept in small lots enclosed, and
well supported with food in severe winters. The
produce in mutton is large, but, from their re-
quiring so much longer time and richer keep, and
being admitted in so much smaller proportions
on the acre, they are not, upon the whole, so pro-
fitable, perliaps, as the smaller more quick-feed-
ing breeds. In the ewes there is, however,
according to Culley, a property which is of much
consequence, which is, that in general they are
very prolific, bringing two and frequently three
lambs, and in some cases a greater number each.
Hegiresthe following description of the breed : —
The legs are longer, finer boned, and support a
thicker and more firm and heavy carcase than
the Lincolnshires ; the sheep are much wider on
the backs and sides, and a fatter and finer-grained
mutton. The weight per quarter in two-years
old wethers is from twenty-five pounds to thirty-
five pounds, and in particular instances to fifty-
five pounds or more. The wool is shorter and
less heayy than in that breed.
In the Corrected Report of the West Riding,
of Yorkshire, Mr. Parkinson supposes that a
useful kind is capable of being bred by crossing
the ewes of this sort with Dishley rams. ' It is
added that by the use of these, and those of the
Northumberland kind, the quality of the wool
and the mutton has not only been greatly im-
proved, but the quantity of bone and offal much
lessened ; and, at the same time, the fattening
property considerably increased : they becoming
fatter ai two years old than the others are at
three. The wethers of this improved sort gene-
rally sell, unshorn, at two years old, from 45*.
to 55s. a piece, and weigh from twenty-four to
thirty pounds the quarter.
The Lincolnshire breed is characterised by their
having no horns ; white faces; lonsr, thin, weak
carcases ; thick, rough, white ;egs ; bones large;
pelts thick; slow feeding; mutton coarse
grained ; the weight per quarter in ewes from
fourteen pounds to twenty pounds; in three-
year old wethers from twenty pounds to thirty
pounds ; the wool from ten to eighteen inches in
length. And it is chiefly prevalent in the dis-
trict which gives the name, and other rich grazing
ones. The writer of the work on Live Stock
supposes that this breed is now so generally im-
proved by new Leicester tups, that they are proba-
bly, in a ^reat measure, free from those defects of
the old breed of which Mr. Culley, with much
reason, complained, namely, slow feeding, from
a looseness of form, and too much bone, and
coarse-grained flesh. It must not, however, be
denied, that a good old Lincoln has ever been,
and the name, at least, still continues a great fa-
vorite at Smithfield. The new or improved
Lincolns have finer bone, with broader loins and
trussed carcases, and are among the best, if not
actually the best, long-woolled stock we have.
The New Leicester, or Dishley, is an improved
breed of sheep, readily distinguished from the
other long-woolled sons, according to Culley, by
having fine lively eyes; clean heads, without
horns; straight, broad, flat backs; round or
barrel-shaped bodies ; fine small bones ; thin
pelU; and a disposition to make fat at an early
age ; to which maybe added a superiority in the
fineness of the grain and the flavor of ihe mutton
to that of other sheep of the large long-woolled
kinds. The weight per quarter in ewes three or
four years old from eighteen pounds to twenty-
six pounds ; in two-year old wethers, from
twenty pounds to thirty pounds; the length of
wool from six to fourteen inches. The author of
the Treatise on Live Stock characterises them as
having a fulness of form and substantial width
of carcase, with a peculiar plainness and meek-
ness of countenance ; the head long, tiiin, and
leaning backward ; the nose projecting forward :
the ears somewhat lone, and standing backward,
great fulness of the fore-quarters ; legs of mode-
rate length, and ihe finest bone; tail small;
fleece well covering the body, of the shortest and
finest of the combing wools, the length of staple
six or seven inches. The fore-flank, a term of
the old school, current in the time of Lisle, or
that flap of skin and fat appended to the ribs,
and the inferior part of the shoulder, is remark-
ably capacious in this breed. New Leicester
mutton, it is believed, is the most finely grained
of all the large lonsj-woolled species, but of a
flavor bordering on the insipid. And it is added,
that it is reported, and with the strongest pro-
bability, from the appearance of the stock, the
fineness of the wool, and the grain of the mutton,
that a Ryeland cross was a prime instrument in
the Dishley improvement of sheep. Probably
the root or foundation was Lincoln. In the
ordinary and gradual course of improvement
or alteration of form, it must have taken, it is
thought, a long time and vast pains, to mould the
animals into that artificial and peculiar shape
which distinguishes this remarkable variety.
The author of the Treatise on Cattle sa> s, the
RURAL ECONOMY.
153
pure Dishley sheep are by no means the most
prolific, nor the best nurses ; and adds that, the
heads of the improvers having had time to cool,
it is no longer boasted that new Leicester sheep
are able to subsist, and even thrive, on the
shortest commons. In fine, it is contended, the
merits of tliis stock as an improving cross (their
grand point of utility), being so undeniably great,
their disadvantages have been overlooked : and,
lurther, that though the Dishley cross has made
its way into every part of this island, to the
land's End, to the bottoms of the Welsh moun-
tains, and of the Scottish Highlands, to Ireland,
and even to Russia, its general success has been at-
tended with various particular instances of failure,
a remarkable oneof which is given by lordSomer-
ville, in his Facts, in respect to the Bampton or
Western long-woolled sheep. The cross is some-
times very injudiciously used with short or carding
wool stock, excepting where the intention is only
forward lamb. On stock naturally good and im-
proveable this peculiar effect of the new Lei-
cester cross has resulted : the improved have
considerably surpassed, in the most valuable pro-
perties, their improvers. Of this many examples
may be seen, it is supposed, in the improved
Lincoln, Northumberland, and Midland county
sheep. It has been stated by lord Somerville
that all the breeds of sheep in this kingdom may
be arranged into two classes ; those which shear
die short or clothing, and those which shear the
long or combing wool. And that the quality of
the flesh in each class follows the character of the
wool, the short-woolled sheep being close in the
grain as to flesh, consequently heavy in the scale,
and high flavored as to the taste ; the polled
Iniio-woolled sheep more open and loose in the
grain, and larger in size. We have as above de-
scribed the three chief long-woolled varieties,
and must refer to our article SHEEP for further
observations on this valuable animal and its
habits.
Of the rearing and fattening of hogs. — The
practice of keeping these animals is so general,
especially in England, that one should think the
profit attending it would be absolutely indis-
putable ; and this the more especially when it is
considered how little nicety they have in their
choice of food. From such experiments, how-
ever, as have been made, the matter appears to
be very doubtful. In the Annals of Agriculture,
vol. i., we have an experiment by Mr. Mure, of
feeding hogs with the cluster potatoe and carrots ;
by which it appeared that the profit on large
hogs was much greater than on small ones ; the
latter eating almost as much as the former, with-
out yielding a proportionable increase of flesh.
The gain was counted by weighing the large and
small ones alive; and it was found that from
November 10th to January 5th they had gained
in the following proportion: twenty large hogs
£l 3s. 6d. ; twenty small 7s. Qd. ; two stag
hogs, £l 17s. 8rf. On being finished with pease,
however, it appeared that there was not any real
profit at last ; for the accounts stood ultimately
at par ; the expense being £95, and the product
being exactly the same.
In some experiments by Mr. Young, related
in the same volume, he succeeded still worse, not
being able to clear his expenses. His first expe-
riment was attended with a loss of a guinea
per hog; the second with the loss of 11s. 3d. ;
the third of 3s. In the'se three the hogs were
fed with pease ; given whole in the two first, but
ground into meal in the last. The fourth experi-
ment, in which the hog was fed with Jerusalem
artichokes, was attended with no loss ; but ano-
ther, in which pease were again tried, was at-
tended with a loss of 4s. Barley was tried,
ground along with pease and beans ; this was
attended with a profit of 17s. 4|d. In another
experiment in which the hogs were fed with
pease and barley ground, the beans being omitted
as useless, there was a profit of 12s. 3d. upon an
expense of £20 15s. 9d. In this experiment the
pease and barley meal were mixed into a liquid
like cream, and allowed to remain in that state
for three weeks, till it became sour. This was
attended in two other instances with profit, and
in a third with loss : however, Mr. Young is or
opinion that the practice will still be found ad-
vantageous, on account of the quantity of dung
raised, and that the farmer can thus use his pease
and barley at home, without carrying them to
market.
Mr. Marshal remarks that, in the midland
district, oats are preferred to barley as a food
both for young pigs and breeding swine. It is
also supposed that young pigs require warm
meat to make them grow quickly. Barley meal
and potatoes are used in fattening them. In
this district it is common to keep two or three
pigs in the sty along with the*old hogs to be
fatted.
In Staffordshire, Mr. Pitt says, the breed of
hogs most esteemed is not the large slouched-
eared breed, but a cross between them and a
smaller dwarf breed. They should be fine in the
bone, thick and plump in the carcase, with a fine
thin hide, and of a moderate size; large enough
to fat, at from one to two years old, to the
weight of from 300 Ibs. to 400 Ibs. each. These,
if well bred, will keep themselves in good plight
with little feeding, and will soon grow fat with a
plentiful allowance of proper food. Hog^ of
the large breed have been fatted there, to from
600 Ibs. to 800 Ibs. each, exclusive of the en-
trails; but, requiring much time and food, have
pretty generally given way to a smaller-sized,
finer-boned, thick, plump, animal. Hogs are
generally fatted there by farmers with the refuse
of the dairy, boiled potatoes, and barley meal,
and pease either whole or ground : by millers
with the husk or bran of wheat ground down,
but not wholly divested of its flour ; also with
other sorts of grain and pulse ground down ; by
butchers with the refuse or offal of slaughtered
animals. The best way of managing the pota-
toes is to boil them in their own steam, and put
them afterwards into a large oven when the bread
is drawn, to evaporate the watery parts : they
will then go nearly as far as chestnuts or acorns
in feeding.
In Lancashire Mr. Holt observes, that Mr.
Eccleston has a breed between the wild boar and
the Chinese, which have very light and small
bellies. Upon the same food, he thinks, they will
yield onefourth more flesh than either the large
154
RURAL ECONOMY.
Irish or Shropshire breeds. Their size is but
small, weighing only from ten to fifteen score,
generally about twelve score.
In Kent a great number of pigs are reared and
fed on the corn stubbles for the butchers, which
are killed in autumn for roasting, at the age of
three or four months, then weighing three or four
score pounds each. Some are also fattened and
killed at from six to twelve months old, and sold.
In the west part of this district, a few farmers
hare the lamer kind, or Berkshire breed ; but in
general they are mixtures of many different sorts.
Little attention, says Mr. Boys, is paid to this
animal, though the breed might doubtless be very
much improved with proper care. Many hogs,
says he, are likewise kept in the woods of the
Weald of Kent in the autumn, on acorns, and
fattened on corn in the winter.
Pigs, Mr. Holt says, should, during their
growth, be regularly turned out to graze. This,
besides the advantageof grass, which is nutritious,
by the fresh air and exercise causes a disposition
to take their rest; and sleep after a meal con-
tributes to their cleanliness, and renders their
flesh of superior flavor. Mr. Young has inserted
a number of experiments on feeding hogs in the
Transactions of the London Society of Arts ;
and, on the whole, prefers pollard and skimmed
milk, as the best feeding; and, next to these,
boiled carrots and potatoes.
Of rabbits. — In particular situations these
animals may be kept to advantage, as they mul-
tiply exceedingly, and require no trouble in
bringing up. A considerable number of them
are kept in Norfolk, where many parts, consisting
of barren hills or heaths, are proper for their re-
ception. They delight in the sides of sandy
hills, which are generally unproductive when
tilled ; but level ground is improper for them.
Mr. Marshal is of opinion that there are few
sandy or other loose soiled hills which would not
pay better in rabbit warrens than any thing else.
' The hide of a bullock,' says he, ' is not worth
more than one-twentieth of 1iis carcase ; the skin
of a sheep may, in full wool, be worth from a
sixth to a tenth part of his carcase ; but the fur
of a rabbit is worth twice the whole value of the
carcase ; therefore, supposing a rabbit to consume
a quantity of food in proportion to its carcase, it
is, on this principle, a species of stock nearly
three times as valuable as either cattle or sheep.'
Rabbit warrens ought to be enclosed with a stone
or sod wall ; and, at their first stocking, it will be
necessary to form burrows to them until they have
time to make them for themselves. Boring the
ground horizontally with a large auger is perhaps
the best method that can be practised. Eagles,
kites, and other birds of prey, as well as cats,
weasels, and polecats, are great enemies of rab-
bits. The Norfolk warreners catch the birds by
traps placed on the tops of stumps of trees or
artificial hillocks of a conical form, on which they
naturally alight. Traps also seem to be the only
method of getting rid of the other enemies,
though thus the rabbits themselves are in danger
of being caught.
Rabbits are subject to two diseases: — 1. The
rot, occasioned by too much green food, or giving
it to them fresh gathered, with dew or rain upon
it. The cure is the sweetest hay that can be got.
2. A kind of madness, which is known by their
tumbling about, with their heels upwards. The
cause is full feeding ; the cure, keeping them low,
and giving them tare thistle. One buck rabbit
will serve nine does.
Of poultry. — Under this head are compre-
hended a variety of birds, which are objects of
attention to the farmer. 1. fowls. — The farm
yard cannot be said to be complete until well
stocked with fowls ; the advantage of which is
most considerable in situations where the farmer
is best supplied with grain, and has the best
means of preserving the birds. In choosing this
kind of stock, prefer the best breeders and the
best layers ; the oldest being the best sitters, and
the youngest the best layers ; but no sort will be
good for either, if they are kept too fat. The
best age to set a hen for chickens is two years
old, and the best month is February ; though any
month between that and Michaelmas is good.
Hens sit twenty-one days, during which they
should constantly have meat and drink near them,
that they may not straggle from their eggs, and
chill them. If fowls are fed with buck or French
wheat, or with hemp seed, they will lay more eggs
than ordinary ; and buck-wheat, either whole or
ground, made into paste, will fatten fowls very
speedily ; but the common food used is barley-
meal, with milk or water; but wheat flour mois-
tened is the best. A good hen should be work-
ing, vigilant, and laborious, both for herself and
her chickens, and the larger the better. The
elder hens are rather to be chosen for hatching
than the younger, because they are more con-
stant, and will sit out their time ; but, if chosen
for laying, take the youngest. Those eggs that
are laid when the hens are a year and a half or
two years old are the best ; at that time give the
hens plenty of victuals, and sometimes oats,
with fenugreek to heat them, if you would have
large eggs.
In setting hens, take care that the eggs be new,
which may be known by their being heavy, full,
and clear. While sitting, a hen should never be
disturbed from her nest, lest she forsake it. A
hen-house should be large and spacious, with a
pretty high roof and strong walls, to keep out
thieves and vermin ; there should likewise be
windows on the east side, for the benefit of the
rising sun ; and round about the inside of the
walls, upon the ground, should be made large
pens, three feet high, for geese, ducks, and large
fowls to sit in ; and near the covering of the
house long perches, reaching from one side to the
other, should be fixed, on which cocks, hens, ca-
pons, and turkeys, may sit. At another side of
the house, at the darkest part of the ground pens,
fix hampers full of straw, for nests, for the hens
to lay their eggs ; but, when they sit to hatch
chickens, they should be on the ground '. there
should likewise be stakes stuck in the walls, that
the poultry may climb to their perches with ease ;
and the floor should not be paved, but made of
earth smooth and easy. The smaller fowls should
also have a hole at one end of the house to go in
and out when they please, else they will seek out
roosts in other places. It would likewise be
of "great advantage to have the hen-noun-, si-
RURAL ECONOMY.
15ft
tuated near some kitchen, brew-house, bake-
house, or kiln, where it may have the heat of the
fire, and be perfumed with smoke, which is very
grateful to pullets.
To fatten chickens, put them into coops, and
feed them "with barley-meal ; put a small quan-
tity of brick dust into their water, which will
give them an appetite and fatten them very soon ;
for all fowls and birds have two stomachs, the one
is their crop, that softens their food, and the other
the gizzard, that macerates their food ; in the last
we always find small stones and sharp sand,
which help to do that office.
2. The duck, a native of Great Britain, is
found on the edges of all quiet waters through-
out Europe. In breeding, one drake is generally
put to five ducks ; the duck will cover from
eleven to fifteen eggs, and her term of incuba-
tion is thirty days. They begin to lay in Fe-
bruary, are very prolific, and are apt, like the
turkey, to lay abroad, and conceal their eggs, by
covering them with leaves or straw. The duck
generally lays by night, or early in the morning;
white and light-colored ducks produce similar
eggs, and the brown and dark-colored ducks
those of a greenish blue color, and of the largest
size. In setting ducks, it is considered safest to
put light-colored eggs under light ducks, and the
contrary; as there are instances of the duck
turning out with her bill those eggs which were
not of her natural color. During incubation, the
duck requires a secret and safe place, rather than
any attendance, and, will, at nature's call, cover
her eggs, and seek her food, and the refreshment
of the waters. On hatching, there is not often
a necessity for taking away any of the brood,
barring accidents; and having hatched, let the
duck retain her young upon the nest her own
time. On her moving with their brood, pre-
pare a coop upon the short grass, if the wea-
ther be fine, or under a shelter, if otherwise:
a wide and flat dish of water, often to be re-
newed, standing at hand ; barley, or any meal,
the first food. In rainy weather, particularly, it
is useful to clip the tails of the ducklings, and the
surrounding down beneath, since they are else
apt to draggle and weaken themselves. The
duck should be cooped at a distance from any
other. The period of her confinement to the
coop depends on the weather and the strength of
the ducklings. A fortnight seems the longest
time necessary ; and they may be sometimes
permitted to enjoy the pond at the end of a
week, but not for too great a length at once, least
of all in cold wet weather, which will affect, and
cause them to scour and appear rough and
draggled. In such case they must be kept
within a while, and have an allowance of bean
or pea-meal mixed with their ordinary food.
The meal of buck-wheat and the former is then
proper. The straw beneath the duck should be
often renewed, that the brood may have a dry
and comfortable bed ; and the mother herself be
well fed with solid corn, without an ample al-
lowance of which ducks are not to be reared or
kept in perfection, although they gather so much
abroad. Duck eggs are often hatched by hens.
The fattening of ducks at any age is very easy ;
whether it be the duckling or the grown 4uck,
the method is the same. They are to be put in
a quiet dark place, and kept in a pen, where
they are to have plenty of corn and water; any,
kind of corn will do ; and with this single di-
rection they will fatten extremely well in fifteen
or twenty days.
3. Geese are advantageous both for food, fea-
thers, and grease. They will live upon com-
mons, or any sort of pasture, and need little care
and attendance ; only they should have plenty of
water. The largest geese are reckoned the best ;
but there is a sort of Spanish geese that are mu^
better layers and breeders than the English, es-
pecially if their eggs be hatched under an Eng-
lish goose. Geese in general lay in spring, the
earlier the better, because of their price and of
their having a second brood. They commonly
lay twelve or sixteen eggs each. One may know
•when they will lay by their carrying straw in
their mouths, and when they will sit by their
continuing on their nest after they have laid. A
goose sits thirty days, but if the weather be fair
and warm she will hatch three or four days
sooner. After the goslings are hatched, some
keep them in the house ten or twelve days, and
feed them with curds, barley meal, bran, Sec.
After they have got some strength, let them out
three or four hours a-day, and take them in again,
till they are big enough to defend themselves.
For fattening green geese, they should be shut
up when they are about a month old, and they
will be fat in about a month longer. The fatting
of older geese is commonly done when they are
about six months old, in or after harvest, when
they have been in the stubble fields, from which
food some kill them ; but those who wish to have
them very fat shut them up two or three weeks,
and feed them with oats, split beans, barley meal,
or ground malt mixed with milk. Geese will
likewise fatten well with carrots cut small.
4. Turkeys prosper very well in open coun-
tries, where there is not much shelter to harbour
vermin to destroy them, as they are naturally in-
clined to ramble. The hens are so negligent of
their young, that, while they have one to follow
them, they never look after the rest; and there-
fore care must be taken while they are young to
watch them, and to keep them warm, as they
cannot bear the cold. When kept with corn,
they are very great feeders ; but, if left to their
liberty when grown up, they will get their own
living, without trouble or expense, by feeding on
herbs, seeds, &c. Turkeys, being very apt to
straggle, will often lay their eggs in secret places ;
therefore they must be watched, and made to lay
at home. They begin to lay in March, and sit
in April ; eleven or thirteen eggs are the most
they sit on. They hatch in twenty-five or thirty
days. The young ones may be fed either with
curds, or green fresh cheese. Their drink may
be new milk, or milk and water. Some give
them oatmeal and milk boiled thick together,
into which they put wormwood chopped small,
and sometimes eggs boiled hard, and cut in
pieces. They must be fed often ; and, when they
have got some strength, feed them abroad in a
close walled place where they cannot stray ; the\
must not be let out till the dew is off the gras«,
as it is very prejudicial to them. In the faUiiiw
156
RURAL ECONOMY.
of turkeys, sodden barley is very excellent, or
sodden oats for the first fortnight.
5. Pigeons. — These, Mr. Pitt observes, can
hardly, in general, be considered as an article of
profit to the occupier of a farm, though there are
instances in Staffordshire, where something hand-
some is actually made of them by tenants; yet
these instances are rare, and too seldom occur to
be reckoned upon in a general account. But
few farm-houses are indeed furnished with the
necessary accommodations for them ; and the
increase of them beyond a certain degree must
be injurious to the cultivation of grain ; within
due bounds they do little harm ; but, increased
beyond it, they prove pernicious vermin, both
to the new sown crops and the early part of
harvest. They are particularly voracious on
early pease. Mr. Kent says that pigeons are
much fewer in Norfolk than formerly, as many of
the pigeon-houses have been dropt, on account of
the injury which they did to thatched buildings.
Of bees. — Under the article APIS, we have
given so full an account of the management of
these useful and industrious insects, that we need
add nothing here on the subject of bee hus-
bandry.
SKETCH OF HOLKHAM FARMING.
In concluding this practical article we trust
our readers will be gratified with an abstract of
Dr. Rigby's able account of ' Holkham' farming:
we give it not only with a view to doing justice
to the efforts of the distinguished proprietor of
that estate in improving and extending the scien-
tific pursuit of agriculture, but also as containing
many valuable passing hints on several of the
topics of this paper. Dr. Rigby tells us that his
paper was originally read at the Norwich Philo-
sophical Society in December 1816 : and written
from notes taken at Holkham, not intended for
publication.
' My observations,' says our author, ' will be
principally directed to the extraordinary im-
provement Mr. Coke has effected in the value of
his extensive estate, by a system of agriculture
almost peculiar to himself; by an encouraging
liberality to his tenants, in a system of leasing
his farms, equally peculiar to himself; and by
his judicious and extensive system of planting,
which, I believe, already exceeds any thing of
the kind in the county, and is still progressively
increasing. I had the advantage of riding with
Mr. Coke several hours, two successive mornings,
over the Holkhara farm in his own occupation,
;md over another at Warham, occupied by an in-
telligent tenant ; and, as he allowed me to he
full of questions, and seemed to have a rea'dy
pleasure in answering them, I had ample means
of gratification and information.
' My first impression was that of surprise and
admiration at the exuberance of the crops, at the
seeming richness of the soil, and at its unexampled
freedom from weeds. The first crops which at-
tracted our notice were some extensive ones,
both of wheat and barley. I had never before
•jeen such. Mr. Coke estimated the wheat from
ten to twelve coombs per acre, and said nearly
twenty coombs per acre of barley had urowti
upon it, which is at least double the average
crop in the county of Norfolk, and nearly treble
that of many counties in the kingdom ; and yet
so sterile was this part of the estate considered,,
when he came into possession of it, that a large
tract of it had been let, tithe free, on a long lease,
at 3s. per acre ; and Mr. Coke offered another
lease, of twenty-one years, at 5s. per acre, but
the tenant had not courage to take it, and Mr
Coke procured him a farm under another land-
lord. At that time wheat was not cultivated in
this district : in the whole tract, between Holk-
ham and Lynn, not an ear was to be seen, nor
was it believed that one would grow. The system
of farming was wretched, and the produce of the
soil of little value. What a change has been ef-
fected by capital, skill, and industry! Notwith-
standing the rain of that summer had been, on
other farms, bo productive of weeds, and had
rendered crops, in general, more than usually
foul, I cannot help repeating that there was
scarcely a weed to be seen here. In several
places the harvest had commenced, and the
ground, which was exposed on cutting the
wheat, was as clean as a barn floor. The day
being fine, it was pleasing to see the reapers at
work — they were divided into parties, who
seemed to have certain quantities allotted to
them to cut; among the rest I observed, with
some interest, a man, and two girls about twelve
or fourteen years of age, who had also a certain
share ; he proved to be a widower, and these
were his children.
' On the second morning Mr. Coke accompa-
nied me to an extensive farm of his at Warham,.
a neighbouring parish, in the occupation of Mr.
Blomfield, cultivated on the Holkham system,
and exhibiting the same weedless surface, and
the same rich produce, as Mr. Coke's. On one
piece of seventy acres, very near the sea, I think
the wheat exceeded Mr. Coke's in luxuriance
and quantity.
' Mr. Blomfield has the merit of having made
a discovery, and adopted a practice, which must
be of singular benefit. to Norfolk. This county is
deficient in old pasture, and the attempt to lay
down land, as it is called, for a permanence, so
as to procure this kind of valuable pasture, has
hitherto been attended with great expense, and
has not always been successful. lie effects it l>y
what he has, rather ludicrously, called inoculating
the land, and literally in one summer it produces
a rich, and, strange as it may sound, an old pas-
ture. Without describing the process in detail,
it will give a sufficient idea of it to say tlia-t the
immediate operation on the land consists in
placing pieces lof grass, turf, or flag, of about
three inches and a half square, at certain dis-
tances, leaving an interval uncovered equal to
that which is covered byy the pieces of flag : tlicse
are well rammed down, and, in doing this, Air.
Blomfield jocularly said it was inoculating the
land, which gave it its name : this process takes
place in a winter month, and in the spring some
grass seeds are sown on the uncovered spots ;
but, before the end of the summer, the pieces of
il.iv. extend themselves, and, uniting, the whole
not only appears to be, but really is, the same as
old pasture. I saw thirty acres near Mr. Blom-
lirld's house, a most 'ordinary soil, light and
gravelly, and not worth 5s. an acre, under this
process, become an excdluit pasture, worth at
RURAL ECONOMY.
157
least £l 10s. an acre. Mr. Coke was preparing
a large piece, within view of the house at llolk-
ham, to he thus improved. 1 asked Mr. Blom-
field how the thought occurred to him; he said,
from observing pieces of flag laid on the hedge-
row banks, and beaten firmly on with a spade
when these banks are dressed, and which, he
added, soon extended themselves and covered the
1 anks, if free from weeds, with a similar flag.'
Mr. Coke's system of husbandry is the drill
si/stem, which he adopted at a very early period,
and his extraordinary success in it is owing to
the progressive improvement he has effected in
•the process, so as effectually to answer the pur-
.pose of loosening the soil, at different seasons,
and of completely extirpating weeds. The ad-
vantage of deep and repeated ploughings and
harrowings, to clean, loosen, and pulverise the
soil, preparatory to its receiving the different
seeds, every one knows, and, to a certain degree,
this is practised on every farm ; but the impor-
tance of stirring the soil, destroying weeds, and
earthing up the young plants in the summer
months, was not ascertained until effected in the
drill system, by horse-hoeing, &c.; and Mr.
Coke's great improvement in it, derived from
his long experience, consists in his having
gradually drilled at wider distances.
When the drilling of wheat was first practised,
the lines were four and six inches distant. Mr.
Coke now drills it at nine inches distance, which
admits ample room for horse-hoeing, in the
spring and early summer months, obviously
much more effectual in loosening the soil, de-
stroying weeds, and moulding up the plants,
than hand-hoeing, particularly as usually prac-
tised by women and girls ; who, in most in-
stances, by a partial stirring of the earth, and an
incomplete destruction of weeds, promote the
more vigorous growth of those which remain.
But he does not think it advisable to earth up
white-straw crops, and therefore, in horse-hoeing
wheat, he does not recommend moulding up the
plants.
The true estimate of every process in agricul-
ture must indeed be obtained from experience ;
but the drawing earth round the stems would
seem to promote their tillering, or the produc-
tion of new stems by suckers or pullulations ;
and this was one of the great advantages which
Tull, who has unquestionably the merit of having
been the first to suggest the drill system, ex-
pected from horse-hoeing wheat. And it is wor-
thy of remark to what an extent the stems may
lie multiplied under favorable circumstances, an
indispensable one being the supplying the lower
part of the plant with fresh earth to work in.
The most perfect way in which this can be ef-
fected is, obviously, by transplanting. Dr. Dar-
win, in his Phytologia, gives a drawing of a
plant of wheat taken from a corn field in the
spring, which then consisted of two stems ; it
was replanted in his garden, and purposely
buried so deep as to cover the two or three first
joints of both the stems beneath the soil. On
taking up the plant, on the 24th of September, it
had assumed the form delineated, and consisted
of six stems, p. 278. Another way of effecting a
multiplication of the stems is by drawing fresh
earth round the lower part of the plant, without
removing it, and whic^i, though inferior in degree,
is evidently similar in principle, to transplant-
ing it ; for, in both cases, Dr. Darwin explains
the process to be effected by accumulating earth
above the first few joints of the stems, whence
new buds spring, generated and nourished by
the caudex of the leaf, which surrounds the joint,
as the original stem vvas generated and nourished
from the grain itself, and which, like the seed,
withers away, when sufficient roots have been
formed for the future support of the plant. Sir
Humphry Davy also entertains a similar opinion
on this subject, and considers the tillering of
corn, or the multiplication of stems, as favored
by the drill husbandry; for, he says, loose earth
is thrown, by hoeing, round the stalks. — Ele-
n.ents of Agricultural Chemistry, p. 204.
In drilling turnips, Mr. Coke has gradually
extended his lines on ridges, in what is called the
Northumberland method, from twelve to fifteen,
to eighteen, and even to twenty-seven inches.
These wide drills allow the horse-hoe of the
largest dimensions, and of various forms, adapted
to the different purposes of turning up the soil
and earthing up the plants, to pass most readily.
1816 was the first year in which the turnips
were drilled so widely, and Mr. Coke expected
that the twenty-seven inch drilled Swedish tur-
nips would exceed in weight those of eighteen
inches, by ten ions an acre. Dr. Itigby saw a
large piece of these, about sixty acres, in which
half were at eighteen inches distance, and half at
twenty-seven inches ; the latter were evidently
the largest, in the most vigorous growth, and
certainly promised to meet Mr. Coke's expecta-
tions. Drilled turnips, however, obviously re-
quire cross-hoeing, which must necessarily be
done by hand ; but as this is merely to destroy
the supernumerary plants, it is easily effected by
women and young persons. The Swedish turnips
form his principal and most valuable crop, and
are sown upon the best soils, from the middle of
May to the middle of June ; but Mr. Coke cul-
tivates on his lightest soils the common and the
Scotch yellow turnip, both which are sown from
the middle of June to the middle of July.
In 1814 Mr. Blaikie published some observa-
tions on preserving Swedish turnips, by placing
them, as he terms it, and this has been success-
fully adopted at Holkham. They are taken up
about the middle of November, or as soon as
they have attained their full growth ; the tails or
bulb roots only are cut off, and they are placed
in an orchard, or on old turf land, close to, and
touching each other, with the tops uppermost,
and only one turnip deep. An acre of good
turnips from the field will occupy much less
space when placed than could be imagined. In
very severe weather a slight covering of litter is
thrown over them. In this way they will keep
very well, and be sound and firm in June. Those
taken up in the spring, when the bulb or fibrous
roots begin to shoot, and which, if suffered to
remain on the ground, would greatly deteriorate
the soil, may be placed in the same way ; and at
this time, if under the shade of trees the better.
The carrying off the Swedish turnips, and,
placing them elsewhere for consumption, is,
however, principally recommpuded on strong
soils and retentive sub-soils, where they cannot
158
RURAL ECONOMY.
be eaten on the ground without injury- But upon
light soils, and open sub-soils, the turnips should
be placed where they grow, and put into beds
of a proper width for a common hurdle to cover
them ; a furrow of earth should be ploughed
against the outside rows to protect them from
the severity of the weather, and from the depre-
dations of game. The expense of placing a me-
dium crop of Swedish turnips, with tops and tails
on, is about four shillings and sixpence per acre,
and five shillings per acre, when the tails are cut
from the bulbs. When turnips are eaten where
they are placed, the ground is hurdled oft" and
folded in the usual way ; they are chopped in
pieces, and thrown about for full-mouthed sheep ;
but when given to young and old sheep they are
cut into slices by a machine, and given to the
sheep in troughs, which are frequently shifted.
The refuse is thrown about, and the bottoms of
the beds, where the turnips were placed, are
shovelled and spread about ; particular attention
being paid to shifting the folds, so that the land
is regularly manured. It is not generally known
that the texture of the larger Swedish turnips is
firmer, and the specific gravity, consequently,
greater than in the smaller ones, the reverse be-
ing the case in the common turnip. The rind,
the least nutritive part, is also, in the same pro-
portion, thinner ; but, were it equally thick,
there would still be proportionately less of it, the
surface of a large sphere bearing, obviously, a
less proportion to the interior contents than the
surface of a smaller sphere. These may appear
trifling circumstances, but they not only show
the intrinsic superiority of the Swedish turnip,
but the manifest advantage of endeavouring, by
a superior cultivation, to grow large ones, thereby
improving their quality as well as increasing
their weight per acre ; and this, it is evident,
can in no way be so- completely effected as by
the improved drill system, and which was never
so convincingly apparent as in the most magni-
ficent crops of the year 1817, both at Holkham
and on lord Albemarle's farm, at Quiddenham,
in this county.
Mr. Coke is liberal in manuring for turnips :
he allows not less than fourteen loads of manure
per acre, the common quantity not often exceed-
ing ten loads : he is enabled to dp this by ma-
nuring his wheat with oil cake, which he drills
in with the seed, one ton being sufficient for six
acres ; or he puts it in between the rows by the
drill in the following spring, and this not only
saves time, labor of horses, &c., as well as ma-
nure, but certainly answers well, as his wheat
crops sufficiently prove. Mr. Coke mixes the
farm-yard dung in compost heaps, by which
means he not only increases the quantity, but he
seems to improve the quality of the manure, so
much so that he now grows better crops of tur-
nips upon the Northumberland ridge method,
uith compost manure, and without oil cake, than
he has formerly done, when his turnips were
sown upon the flat, either drilled or broad cast,
with all his farm-yard dung in the common me-
thod, and a large proportion of oil-cake added to
it; and he has the advantage of reserving the
oil cake for the wheat crop, to which he consi-
a more adapted tl:;in to tisuiips. The tur-
nip crop, though so highly important, has hitherto
however, even under the best management, been
considered as avery uncertain one, depend in gal--
most wholly on seasons. In a rainy season it
has been unusually good ; but in dry seasons
there is frequently a general failure ; and, inde-
pendent of the plant suffering from a deficiency
of moisture, in its very early state, it is liable, in
all seasons, and peculiarly in dry ones, to be-
come a prey to the ravages of the fly, which not
unfrequently sweeps off whole and repeatedly
sown crops. Some ingenious mechanical con-
trivances have been applied to remedy this latter
evil, and a curious trap, invented by Mr. Paul
of Starston, a most intelligent and active farmer,
has been successfully used in saving many crops ;
but its application is necessarily attended with
trouble ; and it is, at least, an additional source
of occupation at a time when all hands are
more than ordinarily employed in making hay,
&c., and it has never, therefore, been generally
made use of. Mr. Coke, however, no longer con-
siders the turnip crop as an uncertain one ; under
his improved system of cultivation, it appears
to be alike secure both from the seasons and the
depredations of this insect.
By depositing a much larger quantity of seed
than is usually sown, Mr. Coke produces a
greatly increased number of plants, which, as
the time of the insect feeding upon them is li-
mited, obviously increases the chance of a
greater number of them being ultimately left un-
touched ; and this chance is much increased by
shortening the period of the existence of the
leaf on which these little animals feed, whicli
is effected by accelerating the growth of the
plants, by the stimulus of manure placed imme-
diately under them, and also by the judicious
method of depositing the seed immediately after
the earth has been well stirred by the plough,
by which in all seasons some moisture is evolved,
and some chemical changes effected, which much
favor the first process of vegetation. The leaf
on which the insects feed is the first or cotyle-
don leaf, which is known to live only until the
second or rough leaf is formed. The cotyledon
leaf appears to be an expansion or evolution of
the seed itself, and being probably nourished by
the saccharine matter, which, from analogy, we
may suppose is elaborated during its process of
germination, it acquires a degree of sweetness
which attracts the fly. This communication be-
tween the seed and cotyledon leaf continues,
however, only until the roots are thrown out
whose office it is to supply nutriment, derived
immediately from the soil, to the plant in its more
advanced state, and simultaneously with their
formation below the surface are the second or
rough leaves formed above ground ; and, as soon
as this curious economy between the roots and
these leaves is established, the seed, no longer
necessary as a source of nourishment, wastes
away, the cotyledon leaves die and fall off, and,
the rough leaves not being sweet, the fly is no
longer attracted, disappears also, and the crop is
secure.
This excellent method of cultivating the tur-
nip will, probably, be understood by the follow-
ing brief detail of the process of sowing it. it
RURAL ECONOMY.
159
is effected by forming trenches and raising riil'jes
on a clean tilth, by a trench or double-breasted
plough and a pair of horses, one of which always
goes in the last trench, and this sets out the width
and preserves the straight line with tolerable ac-
curacy. A cart and two or three horses pass
down the trenches, which are thus opened, drop-
ping heaps of compost manure, which are spread
by two men with forks, and the manure falls
pretty equally in the rows ; another plough, like the
former, passes through the middle of the first form-
ed ridge, divides it equally, covers the manure, and
forms another ridge immediately over it ; a boy
with a mule, or little horse, drawing a very light
roller, follows this second operation, and flattens
the top of the ridges ; another boy, with a like
horse, follows the roller with a drill, and deposits
the seed on the middle of the ridges, and a light
chain attached at each end to the back of the
drill and whicfi at first sight appeared as if ac-
cidentally fallen from it, throws the earth into
the drilled lines and covers the seed, and thus
the work goes on, the laborers and ihe relative
progress of the work being so proportioned, that
none are idle, none stand in each other's way ;
the manure is not left to dry in the sun, but the
operation is completed as it proceeds, and about
three acres in a day, with fourteen cart loads
of manure on each, as before observed, may
be accomplished with one complete set.
In drilling wheat, Mr. Coke allows much
more than the usual quantity of seed ; ten pecks
an acre are the utmost which most farmers drill
or dibble, and even six pecks have sometimes
been thought sufficient ; but he allows four
bushels an acre in October, and even five bushels
in November. In deposit-ng so large a quantity,
of seed, and burying it so much deeper than
when sown broadcast, it certainly does not seem
so requisite to earth up the plants, as probably
there will ever be a sufficient number of stems
derived, in the first instance, from the seeds
themselves ; but then a question arises, and
which may merit consideration, whether there
would not, eventually, be an equal number to
produce ears, were a less quantity of seed sown,
and the plants afterwards judiciously moulded
>ip. It would seem, indeed, to come to the
same thing, and if so in the latter case there
would be a manifest, and on a large scale a very
great saving of seed. It cannot be expected
that nature should conform her processes to cal-
culations on paper ; but if the production of buds
and stems from the joints of wheat plants, when
duly surrounded with earth, depends upon an
established and unvarying law of nature, it must
be the same thing whether twelve stems are pro-
duced directly, from six grains of wheat, or six
stems are produced from three grains, and six
more are subsequently produced by surrounding
the lower joints with earth. A few experiments,
conducted as they usually are at Holkham, would
decide the question.
Mr. Coke is an advocate for early sowing ;
and, as the drill puts in the seed quickly, and, as
before observed, no time is lost in carting on
manure ; he has seldom much to sow in Novem-
ber. He says he has always the best crops when
the wheat is very thick in the rows ; and he
never thinks it thick enough if he can easily pass
his finger through the stems, near the ground.
He cuts his wheat very early, even when the
ear and stem are greenish, and the grain not
hard. He says the wheat, thus early reaped, is
always his best sample, and he gets 2s. a quarter
for it more than for wheat cut in a more mature
state. He, perhaps, loses something in the mea-
sure, the skin being thinner, and the grain, pro-
bably, not quite so bulky ; but, if this be true,
it is fully compensated by his suffering no loss
by shedding on the ground, which, when the eai
is ripe and the weather windy, is often not in-
considerable. He is equally early in cutting
oats and peas : when Dr. Rigby observed to
him that, in both these, the seeds were not all
ripe; his answer was that he should lose more
by the falling of the ripe seeds at the bot^pms,
than he should gain by waiting until the rest were
ripe ; and that the straw in this state, retaining
some immature seeds, was of more value to his
stock in the yards, than if cut later.
To prove the utility of reaping wheat early,
Mr. Coke had hung up, in his own room, a few
handfuls of wheat which was greenish and im-
mature ; in a few days they had ripened in the
capsule. ' Mr. George Hibbert, of Clapham, a
gentleman well skilled and much experienced in
the cultivation of plants, was with us,' says our
author, ' and he has since, in a letter, observed
to me that this is a common natural process,
more especially when the capsules are of a suc-
culent nature, and which all gardeners very well
know ; and he mentioned a remarkable instance
which occurred to him respecting a plant whose
seed had no considerable envelopement. James
Niven was employed by him to collect the seeds
of plants in Southern Africa : he sent a speci-
men of a beautiful erica, lamenting, in his letter,
that he had never been able to find one of that
species advanced into fruit ; but out of that very
specimen, which he seems to have gathered in
the full vigor of flowering, Mr. Hibbert actually
obtained ripe seeds, and produced plants here
by sowing them. When Niven returned, he
showed him the specimen, and he said a very
considerable progress towards fructification must
have been made during the transit from the Cape
of Good Hope, hither, by the rising of the sap
within the specimen.'
Mr. Coke's course of husbandry, that is, the
succession of his crops, varies but little from
that which is general throughout the county of
Norfolk. It is called the four or five course ; —
first year, turnips — second, barley, laid down
with clover or other grass seeds — third, grass to
cut or feed — fourth, wheat. He has, within a
few years, found it profitable to lay down a cer-
tain quantity of land with cock's-foot grass, dac-
tylis glomerata, and this lies two years, making
the course on this land five years.
This grass does not stand for hay, but is ex-
cellent sheep feed ; when fed close, it tillers very
much ; or spreads and branches on the «ground
with multiplied stems, and, in the season most
favorable to vegetation, it will grow more than
an inch in a few days. Sheep are very fond of
it, and Mr. Coke says he can pasture more upon
it than on any other layer of artificial grass. The
160
RURAL ECONOMY.
seeds of thu grass, which is indigenous, are ga-
thered in the woods and lanes by women and
children, who cut the tops off with scissars,
about six inches long, an inch and a half below
the lower spur; they are paid 3<f. a bushel for
it, measured as hay ; one bushel of seed is ob-
tained from seven bushels of it in the state it is
thus gathered.
Though not cultivated as other artificial grasses,
in the regular course of 'husbandry, saintfoin has
been found, at Holkham, a valuable source of
hay, and of autumnal pasturage. It was first
cultivated in this district, in the year 1774, upon
the Brent Hill Farm, by Mr. Beck, the then
occupier. Mr. Beck's example was followed by
.Mr. Coke, and he has cultivated saintfoin, in
Holkham park, about forty years. It seems
mosi adapted to thin soils, incumbent on chalk.
The seed is generally sown, in the pod, at the
rate of five bushels per acre, with the barley,
after a turnip crop ; nine pounds of trefoil per
acre are sown at the same time. The saintfoin
being in pod, attention is required to bury the
seed properly. The trefoil produces a crop to
mow in the following year, and dies away in the
succeeding years. The saint foin is not in full
perfection until the third and fourth years. It
continues good until the ninth year, after which
it becomes weaker, and is ploughed up for the
land to go through a regular course of husban-
dry. The saintfoin is seldom manured or top-
dressed : it produces a ton and a half of hay per
acre, annually, while in perfection. It is never
spring-fed, but is depastured by all sorts of
cattle, to consume the after-math in autumn.
Mr. Coke is ever ready to try the cultivation
of any new article. The introduction of the
Swedish turnip into general cultivation is much
owing to him. I was pleased, says Dr. R., to
see a crop of mangel wurzel in a good state :
and he told me he had procured some Heligo-
land beans, a new and promising article, which
is said to yield sixty bushels or fifteen coombs
per acre, and he proposed dibbling them on the
transplanted land ; but I saw no cabbages, no
succory, no burnet, no parsnips. In Mr. Blai-
kie's pamphlet, on the Conversion of Arable
Land into Pasture, he gives the result of two
trials of dibbling the Heligoland beans on this
land ; the one was upon land which had under-
gone a complete summer fallow, previous to its
being transplanted ; and the other was land from
which Swedish turnips were taken up in No-
vember, but they seem not to have answered in
either case ; the failure is, however, attributed to
the beans having been put into the ground too
late. In another instance, Poland oats were
sown, and produced twelve coombs per acre.
Mr. Coke's flocks are highly estimated, and he
is distinguished for his skill and attention in this
branch of rural economy. His sheep are all
Soulhdowns, but he told me he had not the merit
of selecting them himself. Some years ago he
was visited by some gentlemen from the South
of England, who found much fault with the
Norfolks, which then composed his flocks, and
told him that the sheep in their county, the
Sussex Southdowns, were much more profitable
and better adapted to his pastures : — he bought
500 on their recommendation, and, finding they
fully answered his purpose, he got rid of his
Norfolks, and has had none since but the
Southdowns. Mr. Coke was much gratified on
finding that Mr. Cline confirmed this preference
in his paper on the forms and constitutions of
animals, in which he considers the characteristic
mark of health and vigor, in an animal, to be the
expanded chest, the thorax which has ample
room for the free play of the heart and lungs.
In the Norfolk sheep the sternum terminates
almost in a line or edge, the ribs contracting
too much as they approach it ; while the chest
of the Southdowns is more rounded and wider,
terminating with a less angle at the sternum.
He remarked, on showing Dr. Rigby his admi-
rable dairy of North Devon cows, the same cha-
racteristic superiority of form over the Norfolk
cows. He particularly pointed out the flat line
the ribs take in spreading from the spine, in the
upper part of the chest.
When Mr. Coke came to his estate at Holk-
ham, the rent was £2200, — this was forty-one
years ago. The produce of his woods and plan-
tations amounts now to a larger sum ; for he has
had the spirit and judgment to plant 1500 acres ;
the greater part of which have become magnifi-
cent woods, which have not only by their pic-
turesque beauty, unspeakably improved the
landscape; by their protection in checking the
cold rude winds, so prevalent on this coast, ma-
terially softened the temperature ; and, by the
annual fall of their leaves, even contributed
something to the fertilisation of the soil ; but, at
this time, the annual fall of timber, poles, and
underwood, from them, averages about £2700.
The timber and poles are applicable to most
building purposes; some of them are used in
the buildings, which he is constantly carrying on
upon an extensive scale; his houses, cottages,
barns, stables, and other farming buildings bein^
all in a superior style of architecture ; and the
remainder is sold in the neighbourhood.
' I saw,' says Dr. R., ' a handsome house,
built in the summer of 1815, and now occupied
by his head gardener: the doors, window;;,
floors, stairs, as well as the roofs, joists, spars,
&c., were all of Scotch larch, and spruce fir, of
Holkham growth ; and his timber yard, from
the same source, displayed no mean quantity of
rough timber, balks, planks, &c. In the plan-
tations, several of which I rode through, the
oaks and Spanish chestnuts have already attained
a considerable size, and are' in a state of vigor-
ous growth ; some of'the oaks, particularly those
near the house, being the largest I ever saw, of
the same age ; these in time will, obviously, be-
come the most valuable timber on the estate ; in
time they may even supply our future wooden
walls, and, under a change of form, navigate the
very sea which washes the shores on which they
are now growing.'
Firs, of the different species, the Scotch larch,
spruce, and silver, have attained a sufficient
growth to be applied to the above-mentioned
useful purposes ; and, like the oaks, for many
years to come, will have an increasing value.
There are also other trees, which, though of a
subordinate character, Mr. C«>kr turns to ;t gO" '1
RURAL ECONOMY.
161
account ; the Salix coerulea, or the French wil-
low, at six years' growth, can be advantageously
riven into laths, which are very tough, and
answer the purpose quite as well as those made
of foreign deal : the populus monilifera, the
Canada poplar, also grows very luxuriantly. The
wild cherry is also cultivated extensively, and
its timber is valuable for all building purposes,
when of forty of fifty years' growth. Another
poplar, the black Italian, said to be the most
profitable for planting of all poplars, is judici-
ously planted as a skreen, round some barns and
farming buildings.
Mr. Coke's system of letting his estates is not
less excellent than his farming system : a long
lease and a moderate rent cannot fail to be highly
advantageous both to landlord and tenant ; to
the occupier it affords every encouragement to
invest capital, and every motive for the skilful
cultivation of his farm; and to the landlord
eventual permanent profit in the improved value
of his estate. The following have been the im-
portant results : — Mr. Coke's tenants are en-
riched, and his property has increased in value
to an almost incredible degree. He gives
twenty-one years' leases, and he has already seen
the termination of such leases on most of his
farms, and, though he continues the same encou-
raging system of long lease and moderate rent,
his present relatively moderate rents, relatively
as to the improved state of his farms, have ad-
mitted the total increase of his Norfolk rents to
amount to the enormous sum of £20,000; an
increase in the value of landed property, a crea-
tion of wealth, probably, unexampled, except in
the vicinity of large towns, or in populous ma-
nufacturing districts. On the renewal of many
of his leases, he has given the tenants the bonus
of a capital house : these afford not only every
possible accommodation to his tenants' families,
but are striking ornaments to the country.
Irrigation is one of the superior improvements
in agriculture, which Mr. Coke has advocated
and adopted; but this can, obviously, be only
effected in peculiar situations, and can only be
undertaken by persons of considerable capital.
The situation of Holkham does not admit of ir-
rigating to any extent ; but even here Mr. Coke
exhibits a water meadow, where it could be
little expected ; it is near the house at Longlands,
his principal farm, and rather on high ground ;
the source is a large pond, originally formed for
the common purposes of a farm- yard. There
may be a spring which feeds it in some degree,
but its principal supply is from the heavens.
When the pond is full, the water is well-directed
to an adjoining meadow, whose level is a little
below it. To a certain degree it has its use,
but the supply of water is inadequate to an ex-
tensive and long continued irrigation.
' The best specimen of complete irrigation,
on \any of his estates, is at Lexham,' says Dr.
Iligby, 'which I have seen, when visiting his
respectable tenant there, Mr. Beck. A small
stream, tolerably well supplied, runs through a
little valley of ordinary meadow land ; a large
reservoir of several acres has been formed by an
embankment, and raised so much above the con-
tiguous grounds as to admit of many streams, in
VOL. XIX.
different directions, being conveyed over an ex-
tensive surface of land, to which they impart a
wonderfully fertilising principle, and by antici-
pating the common period of the growth of
grass in the spring, and by continuing it lux-
uriantly during the whole seasons of vegetating
temperature, the supply of grass is much more
early, and infinitely more abundant, than could
be obtained on the land of such a farm under
common circumstances. The grass which first
shows itself in the spring, in the watered mea-
dows, is the festuca fluitans, the long and
broadish leaves of which are known to float on
the surface of water, in ditches, &c. The cattle
are very fond of this grass, and, on being first
turned into these meadows, run with eagerness
to get it. These water meadows were well de-
signed and executed under the direction of Mr.
Smith, the engineer, but at a very considerable
expense. Mr. Coke, who has given a long lease
of the farm to Mr. Beck, is said to have been at
half of the expense; and, in addition to it, he
has built him an excellent house, on a rising
ground, and at a proper distance from the water,
which is here as much a feature of decoration
and beauty as in any gentleman's ground ; and
the whole would form a picturesque scene, were
more trees growing on the opposite side of the
water.'
Dr. Rigby afterwards visited Holkham at the
sheep-shearing. At this time, he says ' consider-
ing the extreme dryness of the season, the crops,
particularly the wheat, were excellent. The
Devon cattle were not only beautiful, but, by
the state of their flesh, they betrayed no marks
of the prevailing drought, it being a peculiar
excellence of this stock that they will keep
themselves in good condition in moderate' pas-
tures. The flocks of Southdown sheep appear
to be every year improving, showing the judici-
ous and unceasing attention paid to them. About
three o'clock the company returned to the hall,
and not fewer than 300 persons sat down to din-
ner in the statue gallery, Mr. Coke presiding at
one table and the earl of Albemarle at the other.
After giving ' a fine fleece and a fat carcase,'
Mr. Coke proposed the health of ' lord Erskine,
who sat near him. He should not, however, he
said, give him as a lawyer, but as a farmer.
The circumstance of his lordship having, of late
years, turned his attention to agriculture, and
having been, several times during the morning
engaged in conversation with him on the subject
of Merinos, whose cause he seems disposed to
advocate, he was induced to anticipate some ob-
servations from his lordship on that subject, and,
in a vein of humor, alluded to the rudiments of
his lordship's agricultural studies, and the pro-
gress he had made. I am led to hope, said Mr.
Coke, that we shall hear something instructive,
especially on the subject of Merinos, which, you
know, has many times been discussed in this
room with great good-humor. It will give me
pleasure, and I am persuaded it will give you
all pleasure, to hear his lordship inform you of
his great success. 1 am fond of instruction,
have met it many times where I did not expect
it, and look for it now very anxiously. — I know
his lordship's abilities ; but I fear the subject is
M
162
RURAL ECONOMY.
a difficult one, as 1 have never yet known a good
carcase supported under 10 or 12 Ibs. of such
close and fine wool ; and I have long been con-
vinced that good carcases and fine fleeces toge-
ther, early maturity and a quick return, which
we have in the Southdowns, will always beat the
Merinos. — Their backs are as narrow as rabbits,
and their faults appear to be incorrigible.
Perhaps every one here may not think so, and I
know there is a considerable party of public-
spirited gentlemen who still persist in the Me-
rino cause. I am persuaded they do it from the
best motives : I heartily wish them success, but
I do not envy them ; I do not envy my honor-
able friend here, and hope he has reaped a plen-
tiful and encouraging profit. For my part, I
am governed by experience, and I always make
haste to discard error when I find it out. I
must beg, however, to relate an anecdote, which
will show you what immense progress his lord-
ship must have made in these studies, since the
first time I had the honor of his company here,
to venture upon such a subject. He was riding
with me in a barouche by a field of wheat, some
years ago, at a time when he certainly was not
prepared to enlighten us on the difficulties of the
point in question, and he suddenly clapped his
hands together, and exclaimed, ' What a beau-
tiful piece of lavender !' — but since that time,
gentlemen, his lordship is, I know very well,
considerably improved, and may be thoroughly
prepared to defend the cause upon which I have
so long been in an error, if it be one.
His lordship, in reply, commented, in a strain
of pleasantry, on Mr. Coke's observations rela-
tive to his studies in agriculture. He had stu-
died it under an able master, and, if he had made
no considerable progress, it must be owing to his
own want of capacity. He, however, assured
the company that he did know wheat from laven-
der ; but he certainly had made the exclama-
tion alluded to ; and was it to he wondered at ?
He had seen wheat many times before ; but,
never having seen any so admirably cultivated,
was a sufficient reason for his not knowing the
plant again. — He had seen such facts and ex-
amples at Holktiam, that he had been struck
with the conviction that agriculture must be an
important branch of knowledge : important not
only to the good of mankind, but to mental im-
provement ; to the understanding of a man, and
to the science of a philosopher. He had indeed,
his lordship observed, commenced his study of
agriculture late in life, when, perhaps, the vigor
of his attention was spent in other pursuits, more
important to him at the time, but never more
pleasing. It is this day, said his lordship, forty
years since I was called to the bar ; — I have
studied Coke at Westminster, and I now study
Coke at Holkham. But the difference between
these studies is very great ; they differ as the
laws of man differ from the laws of nature ; as a
complex and opposing system of facts and pre-
cedents,— where no two cases can be perfectly
parallel, where human interests and passions are
perpetually excited, where human evidence is
often incomplete, often doubtful, — differs from
that order and regularity, where the finger
of nature points to certain conclusions; where
the fruits of our skill and labor rise to gire tes-
timony ; and where the very earth is eloquent,
and speaks nothing but the truth. If, continued
Ins lordship, we only consider the subject of
manure, we shall perceive one of the most strik-
ing bounties and benefits of the divine ordkiation.
and of that wisdom with which we are blessed,
in a thousand ways, without our knowing it :
this very substance, the refuse of every thing,
had it been useless, must have accumulated in
heaps, intolerably noisome, and perpetually pes-
tilential ; but, by the blessing of providence, it is
every man's interest to remove these otherwise
increasing mountains of filth, and by decompo-
sition, in various ways, concealed in a great
measure from us, it gives increase to our fields,
and adds to the means of industry and the re-
ward of the husbandman. In allusion to what
he was expected to deliver in the Merino cause,
his lordship very pleasantly waived the subject,
by saying that it was a subject'on which he was
yet considerably deficient in knowledge and ex-
perience, and he must take a few more lessons
before he could venture to sum up the evidence
before such a jury.
In proposing the health of lord Lynedock, Mr.
Coke took occasion to advert to the Scotch hus-
bandry. He alluded to a report which had prevail-
ed, which had perhaps been industriously circulat-
ed, and eagerly listened to, as all calumnies were,
by many persons. It had been said that he had
found fault with the agriculture of Scotland.
Found fault ! said Mr. Coke, to be sure I did,
and I praised it likewise. But the first only is
remembered by those who would malign my ob-
servations. If there be a fault, it ought to be
noticed, or how should we improve? The truth
is, the agriculture of Scotland deserves very
great praise, and especially their turnip husban-
dry, which equals any thing I ever saw. If I
had wavered before in opinion, I should have
been at once convinced of the decided superiority
of the ridge system, by what I saw in Scotland ;
and I now think it my duty to declare my con-
viction that the ridge system of cultivating this
crop is not only the best for producing the
largest crops, but it will obtain, what can never
be insured by the other, a certain crop. By
what we witness this year, notwithstanding the
drought, the crops in this neighbourhood, by the
ridge system, are both forward and promising ;
and, as this is the foundation of the success of the
whole course, it must be the most important
point in our favor. Mr. Coke then congratulated
the neighbourhood around him, for having very
generally adopted this system, for which they
were much indebted to Mr. Blaikie. The fault
he had found in Scotland, Mr. Coke observed,
was that the land, with the crop after turnips,
was not so clean as it might be, and he was induced
to observe it, in order to draw the attention of
the Scotch farmers to the probable defect there
might be in cleaning the fallows; buthewilling-
ly allowed that they had a very troublesome
weed in the north, which seemed to be peculiar
to Scotland ; and, as the root was a small bulb,
it was difficult to be destroyed. It increased so
much in the land before the field came to wheat,
that the crop, if lodged, would be presently tied
RURAL ECONOMY.
163
down by the stems of this weed growing through
it, and it could not rise4o ripen the grain, lie
said he had visited lord Lynedock's farm, and he
was beyond measure gratified at his reception.
The noble lord had carried inoculation into Scot-
land ; he thanked him for it, and it proved that
this meeting did good.
In the course of this meeting, Mr. Coke stated
that it had existed forty-two years. Upon no
former occasion had it been so numerously at-
tended : a proof that the motives for its establish-
ment had met with the approbation of his neigh-
bours, and that the result had been favorable to
the country. He trusted that it would still in-
crease in numbers every year, and that he should
lie honored with the company of all who desired
to see agriculture cultivated on the liberal princi-
ple of a community of interest between landlord
and tenant. When he began this institution, the
land of llolkham was so poor and unproductive
that much of it was not worth 5s per acre. — He
began with a trial of the Leicester breed of sheep ;
but, by the advice of Mr. Ellman of Sussex, he
was induced to adopt the Southdown breed, and
to that admirable stock he much attributed the
progress which Norfolkhad made in cultivation.
The extension of farms, where flocks were to be
employed, was unavoidable. Such farms must
be large : but if capital and skill were applied to
them, and the flocks were made the means of in-
creasing the corn produce, so far from its being
injurious, as a question of political economy, ex-
perience had proved it to be highly advantageous,
since he could state, from actual enumeration,
that three times the number of inhabitants were
maintained on the same space of ground as be-
fore ; the population of Holkham had increased
from 200 to 600, within a few years back, since
cultivation, by the union of capital and skill, had
advanced. In all his parish there was scarcely a
single individual, of any age, that did not find
full employment, and they even wanted hands. —
He had been applied to, some time ago, by the
principal inhabitants of the three parishes of
llolkham, Warham, and Wighton, to- say that
their poor-house was no longer wanted ; that, in
fact, it was a burden'to keep it up; their poor
were so much diminished, they had no use for it.
And when he told them to consider well what
they were about, and to look forward to times
when the poor might increase upon them, they
replied, they were convinced that, by the spirit
of independence which their comfort inspired,
and the certainty of labor, they had no dread of a
reverse, for the whole district was industrious and
moral. — The workhouse was therefore pulled
down, and the aged and infirm were a small bur-
den on the three parishes. The introduction of
the drill husbandry, which he could now, from the
most ample experience, recommend, had justified
all the hopes he had entertained of it. It was the
most profitable course a farmer could pursue,
and, with the turnip crops, completed the Nor-
folk system of husbandry. He paid merited
compliments to Mr. Blakie, his steward, for su-
perior talents, indefatigable attention, and inte-
grity in the conduct of his affairs, as well as for
the many plain, practicable, and ingenious com-
munications he had given to the public ; and he
spoke, with warm eulogy, of the ardent manner
in which his efforts had been seconded, not only
by his own tenants, but by many of the noble-
men and gentlemen, as well as yeomen, his
friends and neighbours.
PART V.
OF IMPLEMENTS OF HUSBANDRY.
Upon this topic we can of course accomplish
nothing more than a selection of the most approved
modern instruments of agriculture. Many of the
machines and implements involved meet our sepa-
rate attention in their alphabetical places : others,
as the peck, the mattock, the spade, fork, &c.,
seem too minute, and of too universal applica-
tion, to be inserted in a work of this description.
We begin therefore with the most important,
perhaps, of agricultural implements.
1. Of ploughs. — In our plate AGRICULTURE
(Plate I.) are figures of ploughs, whose names
are given. The first, the Roman plough, has good
authority for its iron part or share, such as it is ;
but we are doubtful as to the wheels and handle.
The Roman plough was according to Cato of
two kinds, one for heavy and one for light soils.
There is a plough still in use in Spain, which is
supposed to come the nearest to the Roman im
plement generally used. It is our fig. 2,,plate I.
RURAL ECONOMY.
Virgil describes a plough with a mould-boara
used for covering seed and ridging: to supply
its place a sort of diverging stick was used, it
seems, in the form described : this stick appears to
have been inserted in the share head, or held ob-
liquely and sloping towards the side to which
the earth was to be turned. The Romans did
not plough their fields in beds, by circumvolving
furrows ; but the cattle returned to the same fur-
row. Virgil also mentions wheel ploughs, which
Lasteyrie thinks were invented in or not long
before the time of Pliny, who attributes the in-
vention to the inhabitants of Cisalpine Gaul.
Lasteyrie gives figures of three wheel ploughs
from a Sicilian model, and from Caylus's Col-
lection of Antiquities.
Cato says, of ploughing, What is the best cul-
ture of land ? Good ploughing. What tha
second best? Ploughing in the common way.
What the third ? Laying on manure. The Ro-
man season for ploughing was any time when
land was not wet : in the performance, the fur-
row is directed to be kept equal in breadth
throughout, one furrow equal to another; and
straight furrows. The usual depth is not men-
tioned, but it was considerable, as Cato says corn-
land should be of good quality for two feet in
depth. No scamni or balks (hard unmoved
soil) were to be left, and, to ascertain that this
was properly attended to, the farmer is directed,
when inspecting the work done, to push a pole
into the ploughed land in a variety of places.
The plough was generally drawn by one pair of
oxen, guided by the ploughman without the aid
of a driver. In breaking up stiff land he was
expected to plough half an acre ; and in free
lands an acre ; and light lands one acre and a
hull1 each day. Land was ploughed in square
plots of 120 feet to the side, two of which made
164
RURAL ECONOMY.
a jugerum or acre. We may here add, though a
little out of place among mere implements, in
most cases a crop and a year's fallow succeeded
each other ; though, when manure could be got,
two crops or more were taken in succession ;
and on certain rich soils, which Pliny describes
as favorable for barley, a crop was taken every
year. In fallowing, the lands were first ploughed
after the crop was removed, generally in August ;
they were again cross-ploughed in spring, and at
least a third time before sowing, whether spring
corn or winter corn was the crop. There was,
however, no limit to the number of ploughings
and sarclings, and when occasion required ma-
nual operations ; the object being, as Thec-
phrastus observes, ' to let the earth feel the cold
of winter, and the sun of summer, to invert the
soil, and render it free, light, and clear of weeds,
so that it can most easily afford nourishment.'
(Theo. de Caus. Plant, lib. iii. c. 25). Manuring
was held in such high esteem by the Romans,
that immortality was given to Stercutius for the
invention.
To return to our modern ploughs. In the
' Itural Economy of Yorkshire,' after the simi-
larity of the principles that are requisite in the
constriction of the ship and the plough is no-
ticed, and the difficulty of fixing and reducing
them to a regular theory as nearly the same, it
is observed that the art of construction in either
case is principally attained by practice. In this
district, says the writer, the ploughs of different
makers pass through the soil with various de-
grees of facility and execution; nevertheless,
though he has paid some attention to the dif-
ferent makes, he finds himself entirely incapable
of laying down such particular rules of con-
struction as would do his country any service, or
his work any credit. Even the general princi-
ples of construction he must mention with diffi-
dence.
The principal difficulty in the construction of
a plough is that of adapting it to all soils, in all
seasons, and to all depths. If the soil break up
in whole furrows, every inch of depth requires
in strictness a separate plough, or a separate re-
gulation. Here rests the main objection to the
winding mould-board, which admits no regula-
tion in respect of depth. If the semi-arch, or
nollow of the hind part of the mould-board, be
raised sufficiently high to turn a thick furrow
completely, it is of no use in turning a thin one.
On the contrary, if it be brought down suffi-
ciently low to turn a shallow furrow properly,
it is impossible to turn a deep one with it in a
workman-like manner. There is not room for
it within the hollow, or semi-archway of the
mould-board. The inevitable effect of this is,
either the furrow is forced away wholly by the
upper edge of the mould-board, and set on edge ;
or the mould-board rides upon the furrow, rais-
ing the heel of the plough from the ground, the
bad effects of which need not be explained. An
upright stern, with a moveable heel-plate to
turn the furrow at any given depth, is, in this
point of view, much preferable to a hollow
mould-board ; and, if its use in raising a crest
of mould, for the purpose of covering the seed,
be added, its preference is still more conspi-
cuous. But some of these inconveniences have
been obviated by the invention of moveable
mould-plates, as will be seen afterwards. Yet,
in the construction of all sorts of ploughs, there
are, notwithstanding, a few points or circum-
stances that ought to be particularly and in all
cases attended to ; such as the following : that
part which perforates the soil, and breaks it up,
and which is usually termed the throat or breast,
should have that sort of clean, tapering, sharp-
ened form, that is introduced with the greatest
readiness, and which affords the smallest resist-
ance in its passage through the ground. Accord-
ing to some, this part should be long and narrow,
making an acute angle with the beam, as the
length of the breast is supposed to have a ten-
dency to preserve the flag from being broken,
on account of the surface for its support being
longer ; which is a circumstance of consequence
in the ploughing of old lays for wheat, pease,
and other similar crops ; as, by such means, the
growth of weeds through the broken ground is
prevented. And the resistance of the earth
against the breast is likewisevlessened, in propor-
tion to the acute angularity of that part against
the beam of the plough. The mould-board
should also have that sort of curved, twisted, or
hollowed-out form, which is best calculated to
lessen resistance, and at the same time give the
furrow-slice the proper turn. And the beam
and muzzle of these implements should likewise
have such a construction as that the team or
moving power may be attached in the best and
most suitable line of draught, as this is a cir-
cumstance of great importance, when several
animals are made use of together, that the
draught of the whole may coincide in the most
perfect manner, and with the utmost exactness.
Likewise, in the construction of every sort of
plough, much regard should be paid to the
weight, so that they may have sufficient strength
for the purpose, without being unnecessarily
heavy. Much may be done in this intention, by
lessening the quantity of wood in those parts
where there it no particular stress, while it is
retained so as to have full power in the others.
This has been much less attended to in the
making of ploughs than its importance would
seem to demand.
It is noticed, in the Agricultural Survey of the
County of Essex, that the throat at the fore end
or neb of the plate or breast in the Norfolk, and
most other ploughs, with the exception of the
Rotherham, rises from the upper surface of the
share too perpendicularly, and too much at right
angles to the line of friction, or pressure of the
earth the plate has constantly to act against :
working thus abruptly in the ground, the slice
or furrow is violently torn, or burst from off the
ground hand, broken and imperfectly turned
over, instead of being gradually cut, raised
whole, and whelmed over; as will always be the
case, when the plough enters the ground ob-
liquely, and at a proper angle ; and that the
plate or mould-board is properly turned for
raising up, and turning the slice completely over.
It is a clear position, proved by experiment,
that a semi-ellipsis is the true form of throat
which is necessary in ploughs, which is the part
RURAL ECONOMY.
165
or space from the share point to the junction or
approach of the breast to the beam : and that
there is found a remarkable variation in the form
of the breasts, or mould-boards of the ploughs
throughout the northern parts of the same dis-
trict, and which is chiefly in the degree of con-
cavity or convexity. Some wheel-wrights and
farmers prefer a form rather concave, a flatness
in the fore part, which joins the share, and which
gradually fills up as the sweep recedes ; others
like it neither concave nor convex ; and there
are many ploughs in which the convexity is ex-
tremely great. The great length of the breast,
in some ploughs, is a circumstance which gives
steadiness to the implements ; but, at the same
time, it is probably the means of increasing the
draught to the horses in a great degree. The
shortness of the breast, if the curve or sweep be
in perfection, or wears equally every where, may
lessen friction, and certainly does, if the earth
be loose ; but it probably may not have the same
effect in the first earth, upon a stiff layer. It is,
however, a pretty general opinion, that it lessens
it in all cases. A great variety of breasts, of
different forms and constructions, are repre-
sented in the plates upon ploughs, in the Agri-
cultural Survey already referred to, which are
well worth consulting by the enquirer.
The old Norfolk plough of our plate I. AGRI-
CULTURE is held in much esteem in that, as well
as some other light districts, as performing the
work in an easy and expeditious manner. The
carriage and wheels in all ploughs of this nature,
however, form objections to them, and render
them clumsy implements. The wheels added to
them in our figure are an improvement.
The head and beam are short ; the carriage
part and wheels stand very high, of course the
fore end of the beam is much elevated, by which
advantage is gained in driving the horses, as it is
usually drawn by two horses yoked abreast, the
ploughman directing them by reins.
Of the swing sort, the Rotherham plough
is perhaps the most popular. See AGRICUL-
TURE, plate I., figure 3. It is a light useful
plough for all the less heavy sorts of soil, and
has certainly much superiority where one plough
is only required, and where the advantageous and
economical method of performing the work with
one man and two horses without a driver is used.
It is in much estimation in all the West Riding
of Yorkshire, and is said in the Agricultural Sur-
vey of the Riding district to have been invented
by Mr. Joseph Foljambe, of Eastwood, about
seventy years ago. In that district its usual di-
mensions are
From the end of stilt on landside to the point of the Feet. Inches
share ........ 7 4
From the end of beam where inserted into it to ditto,
of ditto 3 0
Length of beam ........' 6 0
Width of the head in the widest upper part ... 1 4
Ditto of ditto at lowest part 0 9
Ditto of share behind the wing ..... 0 3J
Length of surface on which the plough touches the
ground 2 lOjj
Height from ground to top of beam where coulter goes
through 1 8
Width between stilts at the end 2 6
Height of ditto from the ground . . . . . 1 11
Weight of wood and iron work, about If cw
whole length
bottom
face.
And it has also a copse rack, or hock with
teeth, to admit of more land being given to the
plough, or the contrary, which is particularly
useful in many cases.
It is noticed that with a few trifling altera-
tions it is made use of over the whole district,
and from that being often called the Dutch
plough, it is supposed to have been originally
brought from Holland by the inventor.
In Mr. Bailey's improved Rotherham plough
the mould-board, which is of cast-iron, is
so formed that the sod to be raised presses
equally against it, in every part, from the sock
point to Ihe place where it leaves it; and it
varies from other mould-boards, in not beginning
to take its rise from the bottom of the heel, but
at least twelve inches farther forward towards the
sock, and in being cut away at the bottom op-
posite the heel, about three inches high, from
the sole, by which the turning of the sod or fur-
row-slice is said to be much facilitated. Thus
improved, these ploughs have been found to
answer perfectly in different trials, and have
been allowed by those who have seen them
at work to go with more ease to the teams than
most others. It has been supposed that the
beam, from its crooked form, which is obvious
in some of its improvements, by being fixed so
low down in the part next to the handles, makes
the plough require less force, and to go in a
more sliding manner. And that from the fore
end of the beam being so much higher than the
hinder part, the holder of the plough has more
power, as the draught does not oppose so much
resistance to him ; for, if the beam were fixed to
the handles much higher, as is usually the case
in other ploughs, this plough would be con-
stantly rippling on the point, and in that way
increase the weight of draught. And where it
meets with any resistance, such as a stone, it is
liable to rise up, while in this form it proceeds
in a sliding manner, which affords a steadier
motion, and renders it more easily held. Besides,
it is much stronger ; particularly in the part where
the left handle and the beam are joined, under-
neath the mortise where the tenon of the beam ;
by which the bearing of the ploughman on the
handles does not in the least affect that part,
166
RURAL ECONOMY.
which in other ploughs is the weakest. In this
improvement of the Rotherham plough the
mould-board is so constructed at the breast as to
have a slight degree of convexity, instead of
being concave, as is often the case, by which the
furrow-slice is supposed to be prevented from
slipping down ; and by the keeping the lower
part from the ground, when it comes to the turn
of the breast, it falls off; consequently, as the
furrow-slice is rested on or by the side of the
breast, when the plough has advanced twelve
inches the work is finished. By this improve-
ment it is supposed that the plough will turn a
furrow of any extent, from four to eighteen
inches, where requisite, and the same in depth ;
as the plough that will produce a wide furrow
and turn it well is capable of ploughing deep :
the convexity of the breast also causes it to clean
itself better, which is a desirable property, as it
is thereby rendered less heavy, and less resistance
afforded by one portion of earth being prevented
from rubbing upon another, and at the same
*ime the work performed in a more perfect man-
ner. The coulter has likewise a position so as
to cut in a slanting manner, which causes any
resistance to rise up more expeditiously, and the
land to be opened with more facility than where
it has a more perpendicular direction. Where
this improved plough is employed with more
than two horses abreast, the additional ones must
be put before the pair, as it has not land enough
to follow single horses.
Wheels have been added to these ploughs for
particular purposes ; and with either one or two
fixed near the points of the beams, without any
carriage parts, they have been found to pass
through the soil in a very light, easy, and steady
manner, and where there are two to require
no holder in many cases, except in setting in
turning out of the work at the ends of the ridges.
The Northumberland or Cumberland plough is
only an improved plough of this kind.
Smalfs chain plough is esteemed one of the
best of the swing kind, and seems capable of
very extensive application. It has its name from
that of the inventor, who constructed it about
forty years ago. It is neatly formed, and very
light in its appearance, but at the same time,
from the addition of the chain, possessing great
strength. It is, therefore, capable of being em-
ployed in strong rough sorts of soil, where other
sorts of ploughs are liable to be destroyed, as
when the share, or even the coulter, in this im-
plement, meets with any sudden impediment or
obstructing cause, the stress is immediately
thrown upon the chain instead of the beam. The
is formed with a fin or feather, by which
the firm earth in the bottom of the furrow is cut
and moved more readily, and in a more com-
plete manner than could be done by the sock in
the common plough. In this plough the mould-
hoard is mostly made of cast-iron, ha\
gentle curve, by which the furrow-slice is thrown
off with the least possible resistance. It is sup-
I by Mr. Donaldson to be on the whole one
of the best constructed swing-ploughs for all
sorts of souls. It is capable of ploughing, with
one man and two horses yoked abreast without
any driver, more than an acre a day with the
greatest ease. A plough of this sort is shown at
fig. 1., plate II., RURAL ECONOMY.
Lord Somerville's single plough is also a plough
of this sort, in which the throat is sharpened, and
the mould board rendered moveable in the mat-
ner of his double furrow plough, shown iu-fi^.
5 of plate AGRICULTURE. It is capable of being
made use of with advantage in breaking up deep
stifi' soils, as from the moveable nature of the
extreme part of the mould-board the furrow-slice
can be laid more or less flat.
Ducket's skim-coulter, or trenching plough, is
an implement of this sort, capable of being em-
ployed with great advantage where the surface
is coarse or grassy. The principle upon which
this plough operates is that of trenching ground
in the practice of gardening, or depositing the
surface spit of earth in the bottom of the pre-
ceding furrow, and placing the second, or that
taken from below, upon it. Where the soils are
sufficiently deep it is capable of performing its
work to a considerable extent. It has been ob-
served by lord Somerville, in a little tract on
ploughs and oxen, that the skim requires a per-
pendicular direction, and that the coulter-hole
should be removed farther from the throat and
share, as in the common position it would choak
when in work.
The use of the paring plough, the fourth figure
of the plate AGRICULTUUL, will be shown in that
part of this article which treats of ' preparing '
land on the arable system,
Plate I. RURAL ECONOMY, fig. 3, shows a
plough to be made entirely of iron, to which a
new kind of share is attached, the invention of M r.
Finlayson. This share, a, instead of having it*
cutting edge curved, or forming an obtuse angle
with the land side, is made straight, and extend-
ing nearly the whole length of the mould-board,
at an acute angle with the land side. At the
back part of the share a triangular piece, or
wing, 6, is to be introduced occasional y bv
screwing its pin into a hole in the share, for the
purpose of enabling it to turn and accommodate
itself to the way of the plough. The intended
purpose of this wing is to cut the clods of the
earth, and break them in a perpendicular direc-
tion. In order to prevent the plough from choking
at the coulter, the beam is made to curve upwards
as seen at r, the coulter being introduced at the
under side, and made fast by wedges. Another
contrivance to effect the same object is shown at
1, and consists in opening the beam by
lateral curves, c, c, the coulter being attached by
screw bolts, and rounded off at top. By these
means, should any stubble or other vegetable
matters accumulate in front, they would be
enabled to rise over the top of the coulter without
choking or obstructing the progress of the plough.
For the purpose of r> in at which
the share shall cut the ground, the shackle by
which the plough is drawn is to be shifted higher
or lower, at the muzzle or nose of the '.
This i> done by means of a MTI-W, ,/, in
which passes through the bolt of the shackle, and,
1-y bfiiv,' timu'd, moves the shackle higher or
low or, and t!:« : the share to be drawn
through the ground at a less or greater d"pth
bem 'face, as rircumstance> nny re-
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R URAL E 0 O N O M Y.
167
quite. The mode of adjusting the lateral draugnt
of the plough so as to give the share more or less
land, and also to enable it to be drawn by a single
or double team of horses, is by the addition of a
bary, fig. 5, to the end of which one of the draw-
ing shackles is to be attached. The plough,
shown at fig. 5, is constructed in every respect
upon the ordinary principles of what is called a
Scotch plough, the side bar only excepted, which
by sliding horizontally, in a lateral direction upon
a plate g, may be set at any angle to the beam,
ard, being there fixed by a bolt, will cause the
plough to follow a certain course to which the
draught by the adjustment of the bar will incline it.
The skeleton plough, fig. 6, designed for wet
land, is constructed of bars set in the usual form
of the mould-board, and landside ; these bars
may be either square or round, and set by screws
or bolts, cradled together so as to produce the
general figure of those surfaces. The object of
this construction is that the earth shall not adhere
to the surfaces, but pass through between the
bars, and by that means allow the plough to
clear itself as it proceeds.
Fig. 7 represents the improved harrow; it is
formed of bars, which support a peculiar sort of
t;ues (shown detached at fig. 8, and another form
at fig. 9). The intention in forming these tines
with rounded heads is that the stubble, roots,
and other vegetable matters, may be enabled to
rise over the top of the tines, and clear them.
In order to regulate the depth at which the tines
of this harrow shall penetrate the ground, the
carriage of the fore-wheel is connected to a lever
bar, a, by the raising and lowering of which the
nose of the harrow is depressed or elevated to
any required distance from the ground, and con-
sequently the depth to which the tines are in-
tended to penetrate will by these means be de-
termined. The lever that regulates the fore-wheel
is held at the hinder part of the harrow by a
spring-guide, b, consisting of two rods placed
close together with swells or bands, forming
open spaces at several parts for the lever to rest
in. When the tines are intended to penetrate
the ground to the greatest depth, the handle of
the lever must be raised to the top of the guide;
but, when the tines are to be drawn out of the
ground, the handle must be pressed upon so as
to cause the lever to fall to the bottom of the
guide, the elastic lateral pressure of the guide
holding the lever in any intermediate position to
which it may have been shifted for adjustment.
As it is frequently necessary to lift the tines of
the harrow out of the ground instantly, without
stopping the horses, as in turning at the head-
lands, that may be done by merely pressing upon
the handle of the lever. The hinder wheels of
the harrow are also to be raised or lowered to
correspond with the fore-wheel, and this is done
by means of screws, c, c, which pass through the
end bearings of the frame into the axle of the
wheels. The last improvement proposed is a
horse-hoe, or drill-harrow, with peculiarly formed
tines attached to the frame-work, as seen in fig.
10. One of these tines has been shown at fig. 9,
and before alluded to, as designed to permit the
.stubble to rise over its top, and thereby to relieve
the hoe or harrow fro:n choking. At the sides of
this hoe scufflers are introduced, their extremi.
ties being formed like shares for the purpose of
cutting away obstructions.
The inventor has, we understand, received
testimonials from a number of highly respectable
agriculturists, expressing their unqualified ap-
probation of the efficacy with which these ploughs
performed when employed upon rough and un-
broken ground, for which they are particularly
designed : and the manner in which they throw
off the stubble, permitting those obstructions to
escape without clogging the progress, is obviously
calculated to diminish the labor of draught, as well
as perform clean work.
2. Other harrows are exhibited, AGRICULTURE,
plate II., as the first, or tusset harrow, and
second, or fallow, with their teeth separately un-
derneath. Then follow the double seed and
chain and screw harrows. By mistake the plate
containing the common and iron seed harrows
has been numbered plate II. of AGRICULTURE,
as well as that containing the ploughs ; but the
figures with these inscriptions speak sufficiently
for themselves. The field roller of this plate is
a very useful instrument : its weight being of
course adapted to the land.
Harrows have not undergone much improve-
ment in their construction ; the principal point
in which they have been rendered more benefi-
cially applicable and convenient for use, appears
to be in the form of the frames ; the method of
attaching the draught; the position and manner
of fixing in the tines or teeth ; and the directions
of the bulls or solid parts.
It has been justly hinted by a late writer that
there is no one harrow, whatever the nature of
its construction may be, that can be applicable
to every description of soil, or which can ope-
rate with equal effect and advantage on such
lands as are rough and smooth, loose and solid,
&c. It is necessary that they should constantly
be fitted to the particular nature of the soil, and
the peculiar uses to -which it is devoted.
In the lighter sorts of ground, it is obvious
that smaller and lighter sorts of harrows, with
shorter teeth, may more fully answer the purpose
than in such as are strong, heavy, and tenacious,
or which have been lately broken up from the
state of old sward, and that of common moor
heath, and other sorts of waste, where they
should have much greater weight and length of
tines. It is frequently the practice, where the
soil is rough and stubborn, as in some instances
of fallowing stiff clayey lands, to unite two com-
mon harrows together, in order more completely
to reduce and break down the lumpiness of such
grounds. And in the view of effecting these
purposes, especially where the soil is stiff, adhe-
sive, and much matted with weeds, it has been
found advantageous not to have the harrows too
thickly set with tines, by which they are liable
to become choked up, and prevented from work-
ing in a proper manner.
The hitching or riding of harrows upon each
other it has been attempted to remove, by having
them constructed with running bulls, which are
said to answer the purpose. It has also been
suggested that inconveniences of this nature may
be obviated by the mere fastening of the different
168
RURAL ECONOMY.
harrows together by means of hooks and eyes, or
what in some places are called coupling-irons ;
as in this way the different harrows are only suf-
fered to rise and fall at the same time.
3. Lester's cultivator of our (second) plate II.
AGRICULTURE, is a fine implement amongst the
variety that have been suggested as pulverisers of
the soil. The scuffler is of similar character and
use. But the grubber, RURAL ECONOMY, plate
II. fig. 2, is thought an improvement on both. —
All the coulters but two are fixed iu the bars ;
these two are placed in the side beams of the
outer fume, and may be said to go more or less
deep by pins and wedges. Land on which po-
tatoes or turnips have grown, or that has been
ploughed in autumn or winter may be so stirred
by this instrument that a crop may be sown in
spring without further use of the plough. Beans
and pease have been thus sown in spring, says
Mr. Cleghorn, on the winter furrow, after being
stirred by the grubber : and barley also, after
turnip, without any ploughing. In working
fallow it is used with good effect.
4. The heavy roller of our (second) plate II.
AGRICULTURE has been improved upon, in a
compound or spiked roller, and in the roller and
water-box, plate III. RURAL ECONOMY, fig. 1,
of which latter a representation is given. The
spiked roller is employed in working fallows, or
preparing stiff bean land for wheat. In stiff
clay-ground, when ploughed dry, or which has
been much trod upon, the furrow-slice will rise
in large lumps, or clods, which the harrow can-
not break. In this state of the ground, the rol-
lers commonly used have little effect. Indeed,
the seed is often buried in the ground, observes
Mr. Loudon, by the clods being pressed down
upon it by the weight of the roller. ' To remedy
this, the spike-roller has been employed, and
found very useful ; but a roller can be made,
which, perhaps, may answer the purpose better
than the spike one. This roller is formed from
a piece of hard wood, of a cylindrical form, on
which are placed several rows of sharp-pointed
darts, made either of forged iron, or cast metal.
These darts, by striking the hard clods in a slop-
ing direction, cut or split them into small pieces;
and, by this means, they must be more easily
pulverised by the harrow.'
5. The best, and, as Mr. Loudon says, ' the
essential drill machines, are French's for turnips,
Cooke's for corn, and the drill attached to a
plough for beans.'
Mr. French was an agricultural mechanic of
Northumberland, who first suggested the great
improvement of concave rollers in the drill ma-
chine. Since it has been usual to sow pulverised
manure with turnip seed, two hoppers (A) (A)
have been added to his invention. See plate III.
fig. 2.
Cooke's improve 1 drill and horse-hoe is
shown in fig. 3, plate III. It can be used as cul-
tivator, hoe, rake, &c. It is in general use in
Norfolk, Suffolk, and various other parts of
England. Its advantages are said to be, 1.
That the wheels are so large that the ma-
chine c;iii travel on any road without trouble or
'i.ui.rrof I'l-iakinjr ; ;iU:> tV.->m tlx,- farm to the
X<\, .M'nnut taking :» [i*C8l. •:. In ihe
coulter-beam, with all the coulters, moving with
great ease, on the principle of the pentagraph. *o
the right or left, so as to counteract the irregula-
rity of the horse's draught, by which means the
drills may be made straight: and, where lands or
ridges are made four and a half or nine and a half
feet wide, the horse may always go in the furrow,
without setting a foot on the land, either in drilling
or horse-hoeing. 3. In the seed supplying itself
regularly, without any attention, from the upper
to the lower boxes, as it is distributed. 4. In
lifting the pin -on the coulter-beam to a hook 011
the axis of the wheels ; by which means the
coulters are kept out of the ground at the end of
the land, without the least labor or fatigue to the
person who attends the machine. 5. In going
up or down steep hills, in the seed-box being
elevated or depressed accordingly, so as to ren-
der the distribution of the seed regular ; and the
seed being covered by a lid, and thus screened
from wind or rain. The bean drill attached to a
plough is shown fig. 4. — It can be fixed in the
handles of any common plough.
The interval between the rows of drilled tur-
nips, potatoes, and beans and peas, admit the
employment of a horse-hoe, or hoeing-plough.
Of this kind of machine there are many varieties.
A very good one is described in the Northum-
berland Report (p. 43). The body is of a trian-
gular form, and contains three coulters and three
hoes, or six hoes, according to the state of the soil.
A hoe of the same kind is sometimes attached to a
small roller, and employed between rows of
wheat and barley, from nine to twelve inches
distant ; it is also used in place of a cultivator,
in preparing bean stubbles for wheat in autumn,
and for barley in spring. For THRESHING and
WINNOWING MACHINES, see those articles
ADDENDA.
We hoped (see our article AOUCDLTDBB)
to advert at this period of the publication of
our work to a more satisfactory adjustment of
the corn question by the government.
At present (1829) we have only seen another
temporary and tampering expedient resorted to
in the shape of a new corn bill which we be-
lieve satisfies no party. We consider this, there-
fore, still an adjourned question ; and shall only
add some miscellaneous observations on its im-
portance. We are indebted to a pamphlet pub-
lished at the period of the passing of the corn
bill of 1815 for the following observations: —
1. On the variations in seasons, and their <//<r/s
on agricultural productions. — Although the price
at which productions will sell is in some in. a
sure regulated by the proportion betwixt demand
and supply, yet it is by no means in the ratio of
the excesses to the demand in times of super-
abundance, or in the ratio of deficiency to demand
in times of scarcity. Thus, if the demand be as-
ten, and the supply as eleven, the price will be
depressed more than ten per cent. If, on the;
other hand, the demand be as ten, and the sim-
ply as nine, the price will be raised more than
ten per cent. If the demand continue the same,
and (lie supply be as twelve, the price to wliic-h
the | roduclinii will be reduced will !•< I'ar tnur9
RURAL ECONOMY.
169
than ten per cent, lower than it would have been
with a supply at eleven.
It will not be necessary to carry this illustra-
tion farther, though it will be obvious that, in the
case of excess of supply beyond demand, the
depreciation will be much greater in a commo-
dity that is quickly perishable, than in one that
will retain its properties for a long period. Even
in articles that lose none of their virtues by
being preserved, but from their bulk require
considerable space, the depreciation will be
greater than in those which are more easily re-
moved or stored at less expense. Thus potatoes
have felt a much greater depreciation than
wheat from their perishable nature ; and, from
being bulky, when raised at a distance from a
large town or a populous district, they have not
borne even the expense of conveyance to the
consumers. The prices of commodities are also
influenced in some measure, and occasionally
in a considerable degree, by the prevalence of
public opinion, as to the proportion between
demand and supply ; and, in articles of the first
necessity, to a greater extent than in those of in-
ferior consideration. This influence, however,
is of a transient kind ; and the opinion on which
it is grounded is generally corrected before any
very injurious effect is produced.
From the great variety in soil and climate
within this island, the produce of our harvests
generally does not vary so much as a slight
observer would suppose. The wet seasons,
which are injurious to our cold and heavy soils,
are beneficial to those of the opposite descrip-
tion; and a summer of great drought, which
parches the lighter soils, and lessens their pro-
ductions, increases those of the heavier soils.
There will, however, be variations in produc-
tiveness, but usually not to a great extent. Per-
haps on a large average of years, not including
one or two of very uncommon character, it will
be found that, taking the standard as twenty, in
the best years their production may have reached
twenty-three, and the worst, not fallen short of
seventeen ; and that most of our harvests have
been at some period between seventeen and
twenty-three. If the views we have taken be
tolerably correct, we may presume that for the
past twenty years, if our production has been as
twenty, our consumption may be estimated as
twenty-one ; and this estimate will be confirmed
by the excess of our importation beyond our ex-
portation of corn for that period, as shown by
the public documents.
Previously to the year 1811 there had been for
several years a gradual increase in the prices of
corn, such as must have happened if, as in every
other country, the population had a little preceded
in its march the production of food. This in-
crease had given a stimulus to agriculture ; the
capital which had acci«nulated in that branch of
industry had been invested in making further
improvements ; some extraneous capital also
was attracted into the same channel, and in con-
sequence a greater portion of labor was exer-
dsed in cultivation than it had before received.
The harvest of 1811 was miserably deficient;
and, before one half of it was threshed, the defi-
ciency became obvious ; prices rose with rapi-
dity, and to a height scarcely ever known before.
The advance in price came too late to produce
much influence on the ensuing harvest. Some
spring wheat indeed was sown ; but its effect in
aiding national subsistence was trifling, as the
same land would probably have produced more
food, if, as usual, barley, and not spring wheat,
had succeeded to turnips.
The deficiency of the harvest of 1811 was not
made up by that of 1812, which probably readi-
ed the average of our usual production, or one-
twentieth less than our consumption. The same
price thus continued, and, appearing to be almost
permanently fixed at a rate that would pay the
most expensive cultivation, it gave a stimulus to
still greater agricultural exertions ; no cost w;is
spared in the purchase of manures ; every portion
of land capable of bearing corn was appropriated
to that purpose ; the usual and regular courses
of cropping were generally deviated from ; and
a breadth of land sown, far exceeding what had
ever before been done. Potatoes, which had
borne a higher relative price than corn, were cul-
tivated also to an extent before unknown.
The year 1313 proved highly propitious; all
the different species of corn were favored by the
seasons, whose variations seemed exactly exe-
cuted as if to promote abundant vegetation ; the
weather whilst harvesting this crop was unusu-
ally favorable ; and this bountiful supply, housed
under such happy circumstances, proved as good
in quality, as it was excessive in quantity. But
the impression of its abundance upon the public
exceeded the reality.
It is extremely difficult to estimate the quan-
tum of excess in this year of singular character.
As fai as pretty extensive enquiry, and not inat-
tentive observation, may enable us, we may at-
tempt the calculation without the fear of erring
very materially. Most of the farmers on poor
lands, whose usual growth of wheat had been
twenty bushels to the acre, in that year allow
that their growth amounted to from twenty-four
to twenty-five bushels; those on better lands
usually producing twenty-four to twenty-six,
produced from thirty to thirty-two bushels, and
on the very best wheat lands some have stated
their excess above the usual production to
amount to eight bushels. Allowing difficulty of
accuracy, and requesting that indulgence which
the nature of the case requires, it will not be
deemed presumptuous to estimate this great pro-
duction at twenty-six, taking, as before, the
average production as> twenty, and the consump-
tion as twenty-one : this will account, if tolerably
accurate, for an enormous depreciation in price.
The happy events which led to the peace fol-
lowed each other in quick succession. Soon
after our harvest was securely housed, the foreign
ports were opened as well as our own, and a
large importation of foreign corn was made.
The words peace and plenty have been so com-
monly joined together that the public expected
some union by which one must necessarily pro-
duce the other ; as if a magical operation was to
be performed by the cessation of war, by which
either the earth was to become more fertile, or
thf physical necessity for food become lessened.
' Partly from the clamors of the populace, partly
170
RURAL ECONOMY.
from the state of the foreign exchanges, and,
perhaps, partly because the measure originated
with their political opponents, the alterations in
the corn laws, which it was afterwards found
necessary to make, were protracted by ministers
till the greatest mischief was effected ; and then,
when too late to be of any service, they were
enacted amidst as much popular confusion as
could have happened had it been done at the
proper period.
Notwithstanding the surplus quantity of corn
produced by the harvest of 1813, the markets
would not liave^been so ruinously depressed if
the law had protected the grower early against
the foreign competitors. A sufficient number
would have retained their stock, or at least a
part of it, till a more distant period ; but, seeing
no check on the foreign corn, and dreading a
larger quantity than even could be imported,
each rushed to the market, the produce rapidly
fell, till at last it seemed permanently settled at
a price from thirty to fifty per cent, below its ac-
tual cost. Those farmers who were obliged to
sell, and who are the far greater proportion of
the body, when they wanted money to pay their
rent, taxes, and laborers, were under the neces-
sity of selling a double quantity, to realise the
usual sum ; and thus a glut was produced,
which has been attended with the most serious
consequences. The harvest of 1814 was by no
means abundant in quantity, and the quality of
the wheat was so bad in general, and yielded so
little flour, that it may be fairly estimated below
the average rate of our production. The surplus
of the preceding great harvest, and the quantity
imported, which was increased by the expecta-
tion that the corn bill would raise the price,
were sufficient for the consumption of the year,
but left a very small stock on hand to meet the
future wants of the country. The harvest which
followed, in 1815, was a month earlier than our
harvests usually are ; and from the surplus of the
great harvest, from the imported quantity, and"
from the harvest of 1814, instead of twelve, not
more than eleven months' provision had been
consumed, when the next harvest commenced.
The very low price at which wheat was sold,
now increased the consumption very considera-
bly ; and the inferior qualities of it, whkh would
produce but little at the market, were used for
fattening cattle, and for other purposes to which
wheat was never applied before. Thus a degree
of profusion in the use of it has rendered the sur-
plus quantity of little avail towards supplying
any future scarcity that may occur.
The harvest of 1815, which has been before
stated to have taken place a month earlier than
usual, found us with a small quantity of foreign
wheat of an indifferent quality in the granaries at
the sea ports, and but a small stock in the hands
of the grower, probably not more than sufficient
for our consumption to the usual period at which
our corn is harvested. The productiveness of the
harvest of 1815 most certainly was below the
average of our consumption, at least if the whole
rnay l>e judged of from the southern parts of the
island ; but still the markets became lower, not
from abundance, but from the impoverished^
condition of the cultivators. At an unusually
early period a great quantity of new corn was
produced in the markets ; the pressing demands
for money could only be met by sacrificing at
less than half the cost the greater part of the
year's production and even that became insuffi-
cient to satisfy only the most pressing wants;
the inferior wheats could not be sold at any rate ;
the prices were so low that only wheat of the
best quality would suit the palates even of the
poor ; and accordingly at this early period there is
felt a scarcity of the finest kinds of wheat. The
same profusion of the inferior descriptions has
continued ; and the probability is that, before
the harvest arrives, a sensible deficiency will be
discovered. Thus from the alarm produced by
an expectation of enormous importation of fo-
reign corn, added to a surplus at home, our own
prices have been reduced so low as to bring
ruin on many cultivator's, and a loss of capital to
all, which, whatever may be the future demand,
must prevent them from bestowing on the land
that labor which can alone enable it to produce
nearly sufficient for our subsistence.
If the corn-bill (of 1815) passed in the last ses-
sion of parliament, had been enacted when it was
first proposed, it is probable that the price would
have been kept at nearly its cost, notwithstanding
the surplus quantity. The general profusion in
the use of corn would not have taken place ;
some of the surplus would have been stored to
meet future periods of scarcity ; and the land
whose culture is now slighted, and neglected,
would have been kept up to that full power
of production, which is now from the loss of ca-
pital gradually diminishing.
2. On the present and future effects of the de-
pression of agriculture. — It is not unusual to hear
those who have paid but slight attention to the
nature of agriculture express their surprise that
a year or two of actual loss, should be produc-
tive of so much distress as jis complained of at
present; especially when following years in
which the cultivators have gained large profits.
They ask, cannot those who during several years
have gained on the amount of their capital a
larger share of profit than other members of the
community endure the discontinuance of that
profit, or even some loss, without suffering more
than has been inflicted on their neighbours ?
It may not be amiss in the first place to re-
mark that, in those years in which the produce
of the land has borne the highest prices, they
have seldom been very much raised till a large
part of the growth of the more numerous por-
tion, the poorer farmers, had passed from their
hands into those of the corn merchant, the factor,
or the meal-man ; and, therefore, those who
most needed have been the least benefited by
such high prices. The fact is that the smaller
class of farmers are under the necessity of
selling their produce early ; long before the de-
ficiency is apparent; and therefore never can
have the full benefit which "the richer part of the
profession, the smaller number, may sometimes
gain. Very high prices of produce, such as
were obtained three or four years ago, have been
occasioned by crops deficient either in quantity
or quality ; and then such advanced prices
amounted to but little more on the whole growth
RURAL ECONOMY.
171
of the year, than a good crop would have pro-
duced at lower prices.
Whatever gains have been made in prosperous
years by the great mass of cultivators, however
much they may have increased their substance
during those years, it has not usually been di-
verted into other channels than that in which it
has been acquired. It has generally been ex-
pended either in improving the soil already
under cultivation, or in preparing land, before
in a neglected state, to bear the most valuable
crops. Thus this increase of property, added to
what they had before invested in agriculture, has
only increased their loss. It is almost needless
to state that all land recently brought into culti-
vation, instead of repaying any part of the
capital expended upon it, or even any interest,
has not paid the annual expenses of seed, labor,
and taxes ; and the loss has been equal to the
capital expended, and the annual rent. It will
thus appear that a series of years of moderate
prosperity and accumulation, if that accumula-
tion has been re-invested in the soil, is not a
compensation equivalent to the disastrous events
which the two last years have produced ; in
which probably the whole rental of the corn land
in this kingdom has been paid (as far as rents
have been paid), not out of the profits, but out
of the capital of the cultivators.
The first of the evils, a long train of which
must follow, has fallen on the laboring poor,
whose wages, indeed, have not been lessened to
the full extent of the reduced prices of the pro-
duce of the land, and who, could they obtain
employment, would have no great reason to com-
plain ; but their sufferings arise from the scarcity
of labor. The farmer has no means, and no in-
ducement to employ laborers, the cost of whose
labor is greater than he can hope to be paid for ;
and should corn now become higher in price, the
greater part of his growth being sold, he would
still be unable to pay those whom, excited by
hopes of further improvement, he might wish to
employ.
At no period in the memory of man has there
been so great a portion of industrious agricul-
tural laborers absolutely destitute as at the pre-
sent moment. They cannot procure employ-
ment, and parochial relief is doled out with a
scanty hand, by those who want even the
pittance that is bestowed to pay the few work-
men they are obliged to employ. This evil is
not likely to be lessened, but, on the contrary,
must increase as the capital of the farmers ap-
proaches nearer to annihilation. To them it will
be of no consequence that labor is cheap, and
corn scarce. The capital, \\liich by setting in
motion the labor would increase the quantity of
corn grown, is departed, and a long period must
elapse before it can be again collected. The
mechanics and tradesmen, whose principal de-
pendence was on the agriculturists, and who
form a very large proportion of the kingdom, are
in a situation not much better than the laboring
poor. Their best customers can scarcely employ
them; and for the little trade they have, instead
of being paid with punctuality as heretofore, they
are glad to receive a very small proportion, and
defer the remainder to a future period. This
evil extends to all the other classes not imme-
diately dependent on the agriculturists ; and it
would be difficult to point out a single branch of
industry that is not suffering under the influence
of the general depression.
The higher classes of the community, the
landed proprietors, whose wealth and rank are as
beneficial to the poor as to themselves, must suffer
in their revenues and their comforts, as well as in
their feelings. They have been warranted in living
very ( nearly up to their annual incomes : and,
in general, cannot be capable of very great re-
trenchments, without denying themselves many
luxuries, and even comforts, in the furnishing of
which numerous members of the community
have found the means of subsistence. It is no-
torious that rents cannot be paid, except in a
few partial instances ; that, as the capital of the
tenants is d minished, their means of paying
must become lessened ; and, for many extensive
portions of land, no tenants will be found who
have the means of cultivating them. Thus that
important class, the pillars and the ornaments of
our country, are already in some degree, and
must more extensively hereafter become sharers
in the general calamity.
This slight sketch of the evils which have
already resulted from the depression of agricul-
ture, and whose extent must be yet increasing, is
by no means overcharged. The subject is too
painful, or it might be much enlarged. Alarm-
ing, however, as this representation is, it is by no
means equal to those which the future presents.
The distress of the agriculturists has been stated
to have already diminished the labor applied to
the land. The withdrawing of the labor will di-
minish the produce ; and if the opinions before
stated, of the proportion between our supply
of food and our consumption, be nearly correct,
a very small diminution in our produce, which
is already begun, and will surely continue, must
reduce the community to a state approaching to
famine.
It may appear ridiculous, to those who suppose
we are overloaded with food, to talk of ap-
proaching famine : they may think that, having
already too much corn, we shall never again feel
a deficiency of that necessary article : but let it
be considered that, during twenty years, we have
regularly, with one exception, felt a deficiency ;
that in the whole of that period, if not rapidly,
our agriculture was regularly increasing, whereas
now it is at least as rapidly on the decline ; that
many producing farms are now absolutely and
totally without cultivation ; that the number of
such farms is daily increasing ; that the land
which has hitherto enjoyed its full portion of
labor is deprived of the greater part ; and that
the population has increased, and will continue
to do so till it is checked by a scarcity of food.
If these facts are correct, and it is scarcely pos-
sible that they should be controverted, the time
cannot be very distant when our cultivation will
be so much diminished, that after a harvest but
a little below the ordinary rate of productive-
ness, our deficiency in corn must be too great
for any surplus in foreign countries to supply
our wants, however high the price we may offer
for it.
172
RURAL ECONOMY.
If it be true that at the commencement of the
last harvest there was not a surplus of wheat
sufficient to supply us for more than a month ;
that the produce of the last year was below the
average of twelve months' consumption; that,
unless the next harvest happens as early as the
last, thirteen months' consumption will be requi-
site ; that from the distress of the farmers the
markets early became overloaded, and were de-
pressed to a price that created profusion in the
use of wheat ; that the cultivation of potatoes,
that useful substitute for wheat, has, from the
losses sustained, nearly ceased, except in the vi-
cinity of large towns or populous districts ; and
if we consider that the price of wheat is in most
parts of Europe so high as to indicate a scarcity
rather than a surplus, we may conclude that a
considerable degree of want will prevail before any
new wheat is produced. If such scarcity should
happen, and a probability appear of such a
price being maintained as will repay the expense
of cultivation, those who have not quite ex-
hausted their powers may continue the growth
of corn to a moderate extent ; but, should it
happen that the present depression continues,
the prospect will be gloomy indeed ; the great
number of cultivators who will have been driven
from the occupation, the increased quantity of
land without culture, and the slovenly manner in
which what is cultivated will be managed, must
produce scarcity, famine, and depopulation.
These observations may be thought a little an-
tiquated, but we conceive most of the reasoning
applicable to the present state of agricultural
affairs : and cannot better conclude than by the
following brief statement of the drawbacks and
improvements in agriculture, suggested by another
able writer, Mr. Cleghora, in the article we have
already been much indebted to, Agriculture,
Supplement to the Encyclopaedia Britannica. ' To
the class of drawbacks upon agriculture,' says
this writer, ' and impediments to its improve-
ment, belong tithes, — poor-rates, — payments in
the shape of fines, and services exacted by the
lords of manors — entails — tenancy at will, or on
very short leases — unfair restrictions on the te-
nant as to the disposal of his lease, and as to the
management of the lands during its currency —
the game laws — and the complicated regulations
under which commons and common fields are
cultivated, and the great expense required to
place them in a state of severally. It appears
that nearly three-fourths of the land of England
and Wales are exposed to claims which wrest
from the husbandman one-tenth of the gross pro-
duce of his labor and capital, and this whether
the remainder of the produce be or be not suffi-
cient for his remuneration. Though no rent
were paid for poor soils, this burden alone would
effectually prohibit their correct cultivation ; and,
even in the case of rich soils, tithes diminish the
rent so considerably, as to make it the interest of
landholders, in many parts of England, to re-
strain their tenants from converting grass lands
into tillage; that is, from placing them under the
most productive management for the community,
both in regard to the supply of food and of em-
ployment.
* To the enlightened enquirer it "must appear
abundantly clear that all plans for the extension
and improvement of British agriculture must
prove ineffectual, so long as these capital obsta-
cles are left untouched ; and that their removal
is all that need be done, and all that ought to be
done by a wise government, for securing an abun-
dant supply of the first necessaries of life. Let
all land be held and occupied in severally — let it
be exempted from all indefinite exact ons, parti-
cularly such as diminish, or altogether absorb
the just returns of capital and industry — let the
connexion between the land proprietor and the
farmer be every where formed upon equitable
principles to the exclusion of all remnants of feu-
dal ideas, all notions of favor and dependence,
and all obligalions lhat do not appear within the
four corners of the lease itself, or i« not im-
posed by the general principles of law — let the
rights of a tenant be so far enlarged as lhat he
may be enabled at pleasure to withdraw his
capital by a transference of his lease, and to re-
gulate the succession to it after his death — then
there can be little doubt thai a large pan of the
disposable capital of the nalion, now embark C' I
in much less profitable pursuits, would, of its
own accord, turn lowards the improvement of our
lands ; and thus furnish employment and subsis-
tence for our population, secure from the caprice
of fashion, and the rivalship and jealousy of
other countries.'
RUSCUS, knee-holm, knee-holly, or butcher's
broom, a genus of the syngenesia, and dicecia
class of plants ; natural order eleventh, sarmen-
taceae : MALE CAL. hexaphyllous : COB. none,
nectarium central, ovate, and perforated al ihe
top : FEMALE CAL. COR. and nectarium are the
same as in the male ; there is one style, with a
trilocular two seeded berry. The most remark-
able species is the
K. aculeatus, or common butcher's broom,
common in ihe woods in many parts of Eng-
land. It has roots composed of many thick
fibres which twine about each other ; from
which arise several stiff green stalks about three
feet high, sending out from their sides sc' oral
ihort branches, garnished with stiff, oval, heart-
rhaped leaves, placed alternately on every pa it
of the stalk, ending with sharp prickly points.
The flowers are produced in the middle, on the
upper side of the leave? ; they are small, and
cut into six parts,; of a purple color, sitting
close to the midrib. They appear in June ; and
the female flowers are succeeded by berries as
large as cherries, of a sweetish taste, which
ripen in winter; when ihey are of a beautiful
red color. As this plant grows wild in m<»t
parts of England, it is rarely admitted into gar-
dens ; but, if some, of ihe rools are plaiiu^l
under tall trees in large plantations, they will
spread into large clumps ; and, as ihey retain
their leaves in winter, at that season they will
have a good effect. The seeds of this plant ge-
nerally lie a year in the ground before they vege-
tate; and Ihe plants so raised are long before
RUS
173
RUS
they arrive at a size big enough to make any
figure, and therefore it is much better to trans-
plant the roots. The root is accounted aperient,
and in this intention is sometimes made an in-
gredient in apozejns and diet drinks, for opening
slight obstructions of the viscera and promoting
the fluid secretions. This plant is used by the
butchers for besoms to sweep their blocks.
K.USE, TI. s. Fr. ruse. Cunning; artifice;
little stratagem ; trick. A French word, says
Johnson, neither elegant nor necessary.
1 might here add much concerning the wiles and
ruses, which these timid creatures use to save them-
selves. Ray.
RUSH, n. s. } Sax. nipc; Teut. rusch ;
RUSH-CANDLE, >Goth. raus. A plant: the
RUSHY, adj. 3 compound and adjective
follow the noun-substantive in sense.
He taught me how to know a man in love ; in
which cage of rushes I am sure you are not prisoner.
Stiakspeare.
.Man but a rush against Othello's breast,
And he retires. Id. Othello.
He it moon or sun or what you please ;
And if jou please to call it a rush-candle,
Henceforth it shall be so for me. Shakspetire.
If your influence be quite dammed up
With black usurping mists, some gentle taper,
Though a rush-caudle from the wicker hole
Of some clay habitation, visit-us. Milton.
Your farm requites your pains ;
Though rushes overspread the neighbouring plains.
Dryden.
Not a rush matter, whether apes go on four legs or
two. L' Estrange.
In rushy grounds, springs are found at the first
snit. Mortimer.
John Bull's friendship is not worth a rush.
Arbuthnot.
What knight like him could toss the rushy lance ?
Ticket.
The timid hare to some lone seat
Retired ; the rushy fen or rugged furze. Thomson.
A rush hath a flower composed of many leaves,
which are placed orbicularly, and expand in form of
a rose : they are planted with great care on the
hanks of the sea in Holland, in order to prevent the
water from washing away the earth ; for the roots of
these rushes fasten themselves very deep in the
ground, and mat themselves near the surface, so as to
hold the earth closely together. Miller.
RUSH, v. n. Sen. s. Sax. pneopan. To move
with violence ; go on with tumultuous rapidity ;
violent course or motion.
Their dam upstart out of her den afraide,
And rushed forth, hurling her hideous taile.
Spenser. Faerie Queene.
Gorgias removed out of the camp by night, to the
end he might rush upon the camp of the Jews.
1 Mac. iv. 2.
A gentleman of his train spurred up his horse,
and with a violent rush severed him from the duke.
Wotton.
Him while fresh and fragrant time
Cherisht in his golden prime,
The rush of death's unruly wave
Swept him off into the grave. Crashaw.
Annies ruth to battle in his clouds. Milton.
Desperate should he rush, and lose his life,
With odds oppressed. Drydens JEneis.
They will always strive to be good Christians, but
never think it to be a part of religion to rush into
the office of princes or ministers. Sprat.
You say, the sea
Does with its waves fall backward to the west,
And, thence repelled, advances to the east ;
While this revolting motion does indure,
The deep must reel, and rush from shoar to shoar,
Blackmure.
With a rushing sound the assembly bend
Diverse their steps. Pope's Odyssey.
RUSH, in botany. See JUNCUS.
RUSH, SWEET. See Acouus.
RUSHWORTH (John), was born in Nor-
thumberland about 1607. After attending the
university of Oxford, he removed to Lincoln's
Inn ; and attended the meetings of parliament,
where he wrote down the speeches of the king
and members. During eleven years, from 1630
to 1640, when no parliament was held, he was
an attentive observer of the great transactions of
state in the star-chamber, the court of honor, and
exchequer chamber. He also visited the camp
at Berwick, was present at the battle of New-
born, at the treaty of Rippon, and at the great
council of York. In 1640 he was appointed
assistant to Henry Elsynge, clerk to the house
of commons; and the commons trusted him to
convey their overtures to the king, while he was
at York. When the parliament created Fairfax
their general, Rushworth was appointed his
secretary ; and, when Fairfax resigned his commis-
sion, Rushworth returned to Lincoln's Inn, and
was soon after chosen one of the committee to
consider the propriety and means of new-model-
ling the common law. He was elected a repre-
sentative for Berwick-upon-Tweed to the parlia-
'ment which Richard Cromwell assembled in
1658, and was reelected to that which restored
Charles II. to tfye crown. After the restoration
he delivered to the king several books of the
privy council, which he had preserved during-
the commotions. Sir Orlando Bridgeman keeper
of the great seal chose him his secretary in 1677,
which office he held as long as Sir Orlando kept
the seals. In 1678 he was a third time chosen
member for Berwick, and a fourth time in the
parliament in 1679. He was imprisoned in the
King's Bench for the last six years of his life.
He died 12th of May, 1690. His Historical
Collection of Private Passages in State, weighty
Matters in Law, and Remarkable Proceedings
in Parliament, was published in folio. The
first part appeared in 1659 ; the second in 1680 ;
the third in 1692; the fourth and last was pub-
lished in 1701 ; and altogether made 7 vols.
These underwent a second edition in 1721 ; and
the trial of the earl of Strafford was added,
which made the eighth. This work has of course
been much applauded by those who condemn
the conduct of Charles L, and accused of parti-
ality by their opponents.
RUSK, n. s. Arm. ruzg. Hard bread for
stores.
The lady sent me divers presents of fruits, sugar,
and rusk. Raleigh.
RUSMA, in natural history, is the modern
name of the eastern nations for the substance
called by the ancient Greeks sory, and used as a
depilatory. The Turks in particular call this sub-
stance rusma. It is not, as some have imagined,
a mineral substance found ready for use, in the
174
RUSSELL.
bowels of the earth ; but requires a preparation
and alloy. Bellon, who first described at Cuta,
in Galatia, ' the source of a mineral which they
call rusma,' adds that this mineral alone cannot
be used ' till it has been beaten into a very fine
powder, putting half as much quicklime as
rusma, which is then diluted in a vessel with
water.' Thus the rusma of Bellon is not of it-
self a depilatory ; but it contains some caustic
matter, which being mixed with lime gives it that
property. This presumption is confirmed by
Velmont de Bomare, who, having received from
Constantinople some small pieces of mineral
rusma, perceived that, on throwing it upon hot
coals, there immediately exhaled from it a vapor,
which gives reason for suspecting that it is a
' colchitis' mineralised by sulphur and arsenic.
This mixture is the true rusraa of the Turks, and
the nouret of the Arabs. Boyle tells us- he
made a fine powder of equal parts of rusma and
quicklime, and, letting them soak a little time in
water, they became a soft paste, which he spread
on the part he would free from hair ; and, after
letting this paste lie on about three minutes, he
wiped it off with a wet cloth, and found the
hair taken away by the roots without any incon-
venience.
RUSSEL (Alexander), M. D., was born and
educated at Edinburgh. He became physician
to the English Factory at Aleppo. In 1775 he
published a History of Aleppo, whicli was much
esteemed, and has since been reprinted, and
translated into different languages. He returned
to England in 1759, and became physician to St.
Thomas's hospital. He died in 1770.
RCSSEL (Lord William), an illustrious British
patriot, the third son of William, first duke of
Bedford, was born in 1641. In 1667 he mar-
ried Rachael, second daughter of Thomas Wri-
othesly, earl of Southampton, and widow of lord
Vaughan, a lady of distinguished talents and
piety. Having obtained a seat in the house of
commons, he took part with the whigs, and
opposed the succession of James duke of York,
with great zeal. He afterwards entered into
various schemes for excluding that prince, for
which he was indicted and tried at the Old
Bailey, by a venal court, and a packed jury who
found him guilty ; and he was beheaded at Lin-
coln's Inn "Fields, July 31st, 1683. In 1689
the house of lords passed an act, reversing his
attainder. His lady survived him several years,
and a volume of her correspondence with some
of the most eminent personages of that age has
been published. See GREAT BRITAIN.
RL'SSELIA, in botany, a genus of the digynia
order, and pentandria class of plants : CAL. five-
leaved : rop.. two-lipped ; petals five above: CAPS.
one celled and many seeded. Species one only,
a climber of Havannah.
RUSSELL (Thomas Macnamara,) esq., admi-
ral of the white, was descended, on both sides,
from most respectable families. His father (an
Englishman) went over to Ireland, where he
married a lady of that country, and settled. .Mr.
11 was born, we believe, about the year
1743, and his Christian name .Macnamara was
derived from his paternal crrandmother. At the
early age of five years, he had the misfortune of
losing his father : and, through either the fraud
or mismanagement of his guardians, all the for-
tune which had been left him was dissipated by
the time that he reached fourteen. Our officer
entered the service at an early period ; and, after
serving fourteen years as midshipman, was pro-
moted to the rank of lieutenant. During the
war with the colonies he served on board the
Albany, Diligent, and Raleigh, principally on
the coast of America, and distinguished himself
on several occasions. The pilot having once
run the Albany upon a rock, at some distance
from the land, to the westward of the bay of
Fundy. lieutenant Russell requested and ob-
tained from his commander the Albany's boats,
armed with volunteers, to cruize for vessels to
lighten and get her off; or, should that be im-
practicable, to save her stores, and to cover their
own retreat to Halifax. In the course of seven
or eight hours he returned, with no fewer than
four fine sloops and schooners, some laden and
some in ballast, which he had cut out from under
a very heavy fire from the shore.
From the Albany Mr. Russell was removed
to the command of the Diligent brig, of eisrht
three-pounders. In this ship, whilst cruising off
the Chesapeak, he engaged and took the Lady
Washington, letter of marque, of sixteen six-
pounders, richly laden, from France. Mr. Uus-
sell now became first lieutenant of the Raleigh,
commanded by captain (afterwards admiral)
Gambier. In this ship he was engaged in re-
pelling the French attempt upon Jersey (under
the command of captain Ford and Sir James
Wallace) in 1779.
After this service lord Shuldham, then port
admiral at Plymouth, honored lieutenant Russell
with the command of Drake's Island, with 200 or
300 seamen and marines. His lordship flatter-
ingly termed this the Post of Honor; it being,
as he observed, the advanced post of Great
Britain, whilst the combined fleets kept the
channel. Lieutenant Russell next served in the
Raleigh, at the siege of Charlestown ; on the re-
duction of which (May the llth, 1780) vice-
admiral Arbuthnot, the naval commander-in-
chief, promoted him to the rank of master and
commander in the Beaumont sloop.
From the Beaumont sloop, captain Russell
was made post in the Bedford, of seventy-four
guns, then bearing the broad pendant of commo-
dore Affleck. He soon after removed into the
Hussar, of twenty guns; in which ship he cruis-
ed successfully against the enemy, by taking and
destroying a large frigate near Boston, laden with
masts and naval stores, for the French fleet ; a
large brig privateer, of eighteen guns ; a letter
of marque, of nearly the same force ; and seve-
ral smaller prizes, beside the Sybille frigate, the
capture of which demands more particular no-
tice.— The Hussar had only twenty guns, and
1 16 men, thirteen of whom were on the sick li>t ;
but La Sybille had thirty-eight guns, and 350
men ; circumstances which rendered the odds far
greater in favor of the Frenchman.
Captain Russell's official letter says, ' On my
approach, she displayed an English ensign re-
i in her main shrouds, and English colors
over French at the ensign-staff. Having like-
RUSSELL.
wise discovered that she was under very good
jury-masts, had some shot-holes in her quarter,
and not supposing that French tactics contained
a ruse de guerre of so black a tint, I took her to
he what her colors intimated — a distressed prize
to some of his majesty's ships ; every hostile
idea vanished ; my mind was employed in de-
vising means to succor and protect her ; I de-
clined the privilege of my supposed rank, and
stood under his lee to hail. At that moment, by
a pre-concerted and rapid movement, he put up
his helm, aimed at laying me athwart hawse,
carrying away my bowsprit, raking, and then
boarding me. I felt the error of my credulity;
ordered our helm hard-a-weather, shivered, and
shortened the after-sails: The Hussar obeyed it
• — saved me from the murdering reflection of a
surprise — baffled in part the enemies' attention,
and received only a half-raking fire ; which,
however, tore me to pieces forward, and killed
two of my men. By this time both ships were
by the lee forward, and almost aboard each other.
I called aloud, to stand by to board him. It
had the desired effect; he put up his helm —
wore off — the Hussar closed with him — and a
fair engagement commenced before the wind.
After about two hours' chase, the Hussar got up
abreast of the enemy, gave him one broadside,
which he returned with two guns, and struck his
colors; the Centurion, then about long random
shot astern, and the Terrier sloop about four or
five miles to leeward, under a pressure of sail.
The French officers, when prisoners, confessed
that it was their intention to put the crew of the
Hussar to the sword for daring to chase them in
so contemptible a ship.'
From the circumstance of peace taking place
just at that period, the above letter was never
published. Perhaps, also, from motives of con-
ciliation on the part of Great Britain, it was
thought politic not to give it to the world, as it
certainly bore extremely hard upon the French
commander. But, as it was intended that this
letter should appear at the court of France
against count Krergarou, it became necessary to
have it legally authenticated, which was accord-
ingly done.
When the captain of la Sybille delivered his
sword to captain Russell on the Hussar's quar-
ter-deck, he commenced a speech, with much
pomposity of style and manner, saying, ' Ac-
cept, Sir, of a sword, which was never before
surrendered. Conceive my feeling, on being re-
duced to it by a ship of less than half my force
but such a ship ! such a constant and continued
tremendous fire '. ' — Captain Russell answered,
' Sir, 1 must humbly beg leave to decline any
compliments to this ship, her omcers, or com-
pany, as I cannot return them. She is in-
deed no more than a British ship of her class
should be. She had not fair play : but Almighty
God has saved her from a most foul snare of a
most perfidious enemy.' ' I receive your sword
with me most inexpressible contempt ; and, sir,
you will please to observe, that lest it should ever
defile the hand of any honest French or English
officer, I here, in the most formal and public
manner, break it.' At this moment a strong box,
containing about £500, was brought onboard the
Hussar, and another filled with plate, &c. The
French officers in a body declared that the mo-
ney was their private property, and that the plate
belonged to their captain. ' Gentlemen,' said
captain Russell, ' it shall continue yours ; what-
ever your captain may think, British officers do
not fight for money.' Attempts were made to
bribe captain Russell to release the count ; the
English commander, of course, revolted at the
offer, and severely reproved the bearer.
On his return to England, captain Russell, for
his various services, was offered the honor of
knighthood; an honor which he modestly de-
clined, as not possessing a sufficient fortune.
Some of his friends thought that this refusal might
disoblige lord Keppel ; but that it did not was evi-
dent from his lordship's continued friendship
towards him whilst he lived.
During the peace, in the course of the year
1791, captain Russell was appointed to command
the Uiana, on the Jamaica station ; where, for
his conduct during the apprehension of a- rising
among the negrops, he was twice honored with
the public thanks of the inhabitants. It was
during this time that he was sent by admiral
Affleck, to convoy a cargo of provisions, as an
act of charity, f;om the government and princi-
pal inhabitants of Jamaica, to the white people
of St. Domingo, who were then severely suffer-
ing from the depredations of the people of color.
He was received with joy and gratitude ; and
was invited to a public dinner given by the co-
lonial assembly at Aux Cayes. At this repast
our officer represented to the assembly that there
was a lieutenant Perkins, of the British navy,
cruelly confined in a dungeon at Jeremie, on the
other side of the island, under the pretext of having
supplied.the blacks with arms ; but, in fact, through
malice for his activity against the trade of that part
of St. Domingo in the American war. Captain
Russell stated that, before he had ventured to
plead his cause, he had satisfied himself of his
absolute innocence; that he had undergone
nothing like a legal process, a thing impos-
sible from the suspension of their ordinary
courts of justice, owing to the divided and dis-
tracted state of the colony ; and yet, horrible to
relate, he lay under sentence of death ! ' Grant
me,' said captain Russell, ' his life ! Do not
suffer these people to be guilty of the murder of
an innocent man, by which they would drag
British vengeance upon the whole island.' So
forcible was this appeal that the assembly, in the
most hearty and unequivocal manner, promised
that an order should be instantly transmitted for
him to be delivered up. On the following day,
however, on captain Russell sending an officer
to receive the order for lieutenant Perkins's libe-
ration, he returned with a refusal from the as-
sembly ; for, ' as it was a promise made after
dinner, they did not think it binding.'
Almost at the moment of the officer's return, the
Ferret sloop, captain Nowell (afterwards admiral
Nowell), hove in sight. She had been at Jeremie,
with despatches containing the requests of lord
Effingham and admiral Affleck, that lieutenant
Perkins might be delivered up, which the council of
commons there absolutely refused. No sooner
was captain Russell apprised of this state of the
RUS
176
RUS
business, than he declared that he would sacrifice
as many Frenchmen as there were hairs on Per-
kins's head, if they murdered him. His deter-
mination was soon known amongst the Diana's
crew ; the anchor was up, sail crowded, and the
wind favoring them in an uncommon manner,
the frigate and sloop quickly appeared offJere-
mie. Both of the vessels hove to close to the
harbor, and prepared for battle ; every soul on
board of them panting for vengeance, should
Perkins be murdered. Captain Nowell, on land-
ing, was surrounded by a mob of at least 300
villains, armed with sabres; and, together with
lieutenant Godby, who accompanied him, had
occasion to keep his hand on his sword during
the whole of the conference which took place.
The president read the letter, and said, ' Sir,
suppose I do not ? ' 'In that case,' replied the
British officer, 'you draw down a destruction
which you are little aware of. I know captain
Russell ; beware, if you value your town, and
the lives of thousands ; he has given me sixty
minutes to decide ; you see, sir, that thirty of
them are elapsed.' The mob now grew outrage-
ous. ' You shall have him,' exclaimed one of
them, ' but it shall be in quarters ! ' Captain
Nowell instantly drew his sword, and; looking at
the president, said, ' Sir, order that fellow out of
my sight, or he dies ! ' The president did so ;
and, after a few more threats from captain
Nowell, that he would return without him, poor
Perkins was led from the brig of war lying off the
town in which he had been kept a close prisoner,
into the Ferret's boat.
Having remained the usual time on the Ja-
maica station, the Diana returned to England,
and was paid off; after which captain Russell
was appointed to command the St. Albans of
sixty-four guns, and brought home four or five
East Indiamen from St. Helena. On the llth
of January, 1796, he was appointed to the Ven-
geance, of seventy-four guns ; in which he served
in the West Indies, under rear-admiral Harvey,
at the captures of St. Lucia and Trinadad, and at
the subsequent unsuccessful siege of Porto Rico ;
and on this station captain Russell had the satis-
faction of making, the second time in his life, an
ample fortune ; but, by an unlimited confidence
in the integrity of others, his golden treasures
soon vanished.
In the spring of 1799 he returned to England,
and joined the Channel fleet, then under the
orders of earl St. Vincent. Having remained for
some time in that service, the Vengeance, being
much out of repair, was paid off; and, on the
23d of April, 1800, captain Russellwas appointed
to the Princess Royal, a second rate, in which
ship he remained until advanced to the rank of
rear admiral of the white, Jan. 1st., 1801 ; and on
the 23d of April, 1804, rear-admiral of the red.
Soon after the commencement of the late war,
v.e tincl our officer serving under lord Keith.
About the year 1807 he was appointed to 'he
chief command of the North Sea fleet ; but, from
the rigid caution which the Dutch squadrons ob-
served, no opportunity occurred for him to dis-
play the determined spirit which he was well
known to possess. His promotion to the
rank of vice-admiral took place Nov. 9th, 1805;
and on the 12th of August, 1812, he became a
full admiral. Mrs. Russell, to whom he was
united about the year 1793, died March 9th,
1818, leaving an only child, a daughter, married
in 1817 to George Edward Patey, esq., lieut.
R.N.
Admiral Russell's blockade of the Texel, dur-
ing the period of the threatened invasion of our
shores, has been considered admirable, and was
planned and executed by himself. His system
of anchoring during the strongest gales, with
sometimes three cables on end, was rewarded by
the most complete success. During the neap
tides, the line-of-battle ships for the most part
rendezvoused at North Yarmouth, by which a
saving to his country in wear and tear, and pro-
bable loss of ships, was effected to an immense
amount. Indeed, while this blockade of the
Texel was the most efficient ever known, and
was conducted with all the rigidness of a si;'e
of bitter warfare, it was marked by instances
refined humanity which procured the respect
and esteem of the Dutch admiral Kictchurt, his
officers, and men.
RUSSET, adj. & n. s. Fr. rousset ; Lat.
russus. Reddishly brown : such is the color of
apples called russetings, and of coarse country
dresses.
The morn, in ruttet mantle clad,
Walks o'er the dew of yon high eastern hill.
Shakfpeare.
Taffata phrases, silken terms precise,
Figures pedantical : these summer flies
Have blown me full of maggot ostentation :
Henceforth my wooing mind shall be exprest
In russet yeas, and honest kersey noes. Id.
Our summer such a russet livery wears,
As in a garment often dyed appears. Dryden.
The Dorick dialect has a sweetness in its clownish-
ness, like a fair shepherdess in her country russet.
Id.
This white spot was immediately encompassed
with a dark gray or russet, and that dark gray with
the colors of the first iris. Newton'i Opticks.
The rtuset pearmain is a very pleasant fruit, con-
tinuing long on the tree, and in the conservatory par-
takes both of the russeting and pearmain in colour
and taste ; the one side being generally russet, and
the other streaked like a [-earraain. Mortimer.
_: -
ml* if?
177
RUSSIA.
RUSSIA (from Sclav. Rossi or Russi, a small
Sclavonic tribe) comprehends a portion of
Europe and Asia, exceeding in extent any em-
pire that was ever before included under one
form of government. It borders on the Baltic,
the Euxine, and the Caspian, and is washed
both by the Arctic and Great Pacific Oceans.
. Stretching from the eastern confines of Asia to
the mountains of Olonetz, and from the mouths
of the Don, the Volga, and the Kuban, to the
Frozen Sea, Russia comprises, independently of
islands and promontories, 165° of longitude and
32° of latitude; being 9684 miles in length and
2400 in breadth. It contains a surface of about
4,000,000 square miles, and a population of
more than 42,000,000 inhabitants, or about ten
persons to each square mile. The population
of European Russia, exclusively of the kingdom
of Poland, does not much exceed 40,000,000.
The chief augmentations by which the empire
has been enlarged (for since its provinces were
united under one government they have never
been contracted) are the following, as stated in
the Russian Court Calendar for 1817 : —
The conquest of Siberia took place in 1573.
Yermark, the hetman of the Don Cossacks, re-
belled against the authority of Russia, and was
obliged to flee before the forces of the czar. In
this extremity he ascended the Ural mountains,
and discovered the vast plains of Siberia. Ani-
mated by the idea of founding a new empire, in
these unknown regions, he pushed on from con-
quest to conquest, till he had subdued all the
savage tribes from the Ob and the Ural to the
Altaian mountains. But, being unable to pre-
serve the conquests which his valor had achieved,
he laid the fruit of his victories at the feet of the
czar, who not only forgave his rebellion, but re-
warded his talents, his courage, and his enter-
prise. ' Thus an empire more extensive than
Mexico or Peru was added to the Russian terri-
tory, by a man inferior to the conquerors of tne
New World, only because his exploits have not
been recorded.' Little Russia was added to the
i former possessions in 1644; and Livonia, Estho-
nia, Ingria, Carelia, Viborg, and several islands
in the gulf of Finland, were ceded to Sweden,
at the peace concluded between the two powers
in 1721. White Russia was annexed in 1772;
and the Crimea, the island of Taman, and a great
part of the Kuban, comprising a vast territory,
with about 1,500,000 inhabitants, were wrested
from the Porte, by the treaty which the menac-
ing attitude of Catharine II., and her celebrated
minister Potemkin, induced that power to sign
in 1784. The dukedoms of Lithuania and Cour-
land augmented the accumulating mass in 1793;
and the partition of Poland, about two years
afterwards, added nearly 3440 square leagues,
nnd about 2,000,000 inhabitants. Georgia was
annexed in 1801 ; and Baily stock in 1807. The
war between Russia and Sweden, in 1809, proved
disastrous to the latter, and Russia acquired
Finland by the peace that was concluded in
September of that year.
VOL. XIX
By a treaty of peace in August 1811 between
Russia and Turkey the former obtained the pro-
vince of Bessarabia, and the eastern part of Mol-
davia ; for by that treaty the Pruth, from its en -
trance into Moldavia, to its junction with the
Danube, and tin's last river to the Black Sea,
were fixed as the boundaries between the two
empires. The grand duchy of Warsaw was
also annexed to Russia in 1815, but now con-
stitutes a great part of the present kingdom of
Poland.
This empire has undergone much variation in
its political divisions. In 1796 Catherine II.
divided the whole into fifty governments ; a divi-
sion annulled by Paul in 1800, another, com-
prising forty-one governments, being substituted
in its stead. When the late emperor ascended
the throne, he re-established most of the govern-
ments which his father had abolished; and a
Ukase for that purpose was published in Sep-
tember 1801, by which the forty-one existing
governments were increased by five others that
had previously been established, and four more
were added, which made the number fifty. The
acquisition of Finland has been made since that
period. The following are its present chief di-
visions : —
GOVERNMENTS ON THE NOUTII.
Governments. Capitals.
Finland Abo
Wyburg Wyburg
Olonetz Olonetz
Archangel .... Archangel
Esthonia Revel
St. Petersburgh . . .St. Petersburgh.
Novogorod .... Novogorod-Veliki
Vologda Vologda
Livonia Riga
Pskove ^ . . . . Pskove
Twer Twer
Jarosla Jarosla
Kostroma Kostroma.
GOVERNMENTS IN THE CENTRE.
Smolensko .... Smolensko
Moscow Moscow
Volodimir Volodimir
Nizney Novogorod . . Nizney Novogorod
Kaluga Kaluga
Tula Tula
Riazan Riazan
Tambof Tambof
Orel Orel
Kursk Kursk
Woronetz Woronetz
Tschenigo Tschenigo
Ukraine Karkof.
GOVERNMENTS ON THE SOUTH.
Kiev Kiev
Catharinoslaf .... Catharinoslaf
Cossacks Tscherkaskoy
Taurina Caffa
Caucasus (pan in Asia).
178 It U S S 1 A.
GOVERNMENTS ON THE EAST.
Governments. Capitals.
Perm (part in Asia) . Perm
Vyatka Vyatka
Orenburg (part in Asia) Orenburg
Kazan Kazan
Simbirsk Simbirsk
Penza Penza
Saratof Saratof.
GOVERNMENTS ON THE WEST.
Witepsk Witepsk
Moghilef Moghilef
Courland Mittau
Wilna . . ... . . Wilna
Grodno Grodno
Minsk Minsk
Volhynia Lucko
Podolia Kaminieck
Cherson Cherson.
I. EUROPEAN RUSSIA. — European Russia oc-
cupies the north-east portion of Europe ; being
bounded on the north by the Frozen Ocean ; on
the east by Asia ; on the west by Sweden, the
gulf of Bothnia, the Baltic, Prussia, Poland,
and Austria ; and on the south by Turkey and
the Black Sea. It extends from about 44° to
72°ofNlat.; and from 22° to 60° of E. long,
from Greemvich. Its length in a right line on
the western frontier is about 1940 miles; but
from south-west to north-east it is nearly 2180
miles. Its greatest breadth is about 51° of
lat., where it is nearly 1520 miles. Its su-
perficial extent has been estimated at about
1,000,000 square miles.
The two distinguishing features of this part of
Russia are vast plains, denominated steppes,
and majestic rivers. Some of the former con-
sist of an extremely fertile soil ; others are saline
wastes ; while a middle kind produces a scanty
supply of vegetation, and are occupied, in sum-
mer, by tribes that roam in quest of pasturage.
The most noted of these steppes are, 1 . The de-
sert of Petshora, situated between the Dwina
and Petshora, and extending from 63° of lat. to
the shores of the White Sea. This plain is in-
terspersed with forests and small lakes, and is
almost destitute of inhabitants, except in the
vicinity of Archangel and Mezen. 2. The steppe
of the Dnieper, including the Crimean desert,
and comprised between the Dnieper, the Don,
and the sea of Azof. It consists chiefly of dry
sand diversified with salt lakes. The appearance
indicates its having once been a submarine bed,
the waters of which, by bursting the Thracian
Bosphorus, may have flowed into the Mediter-
ranean. 3. The steppe of the Don and the
Volga, which occupies a considerable part of the
space between these rivers. The great and ge-
nerally rich plain bounded by the Volga and the
Ural is about 2° further north than the latter,
and stretches towards the Caspian.
( )ther parts of the Russian territory, though
generally flat, present more variety. The surface,
generally speaking, is composed of two inclined
planes ; one sloping towards the south and
south-east, and the other descending towards
the opposite points. These declivities meet on
the east side of the empire, about 60° of lat.
and thence follow a winding line towards the
south-west, till their union reaches 50°, and
quits Russia in the vicinity of Sraolensko. From
this waving ridge, the waters flow on the one
side to the Euxine and Caspian ; and, on the
other, into the White Sea and the Baltic.
The mountains of Olonetz originate in the
northern extremity of Lapland, and stretch
through about 15° towards the south. The
northern parts are constantly covered with snow ;
the more southern regions with forests, and con-
tain various metals, particularly iron. The
mountains of Valday, which are crossed by the
road from St. Petersburg to Moscow, have
been supposed, by some travellers, to be merely
a continuation of the former chain. They are
chiefly composed of clay and sand, with occa-
sional blocks of granite, forests, and fertile val-
leys. This elevated region gives rise to the
Volga, the Duna, the Dnieper, and the Ocka.
A ridge of hills likewise extends through Mol-
davia and Bessarabia, along the southern coast
of Taurida, and connects the Carpathian with
the Caucasian chain. ' They form the southern
extremity of the peninsula, and consist of cal-
careous matter, supported, as it were, by pillars
of marble, trap, clay, common lime-stone, and
schistus, in parallel and almost vertical veins,
alternating with each other. This singular ridge
has the appearance of an amphitheatre along
the Euxine. The vales produce the laurel, the
olive, the fig, the lotus, and the pomegranate ;
the cliffs are adorned with the red bark and per-
petual foliage of the strawberry-tree ; while the
sheep and goats, clinging to the declivities,
combine with the simple manners of the Tartars
to form an enchanting picture.' The Uralian
mountains, which separate Europe from Asia,
for more than 1200 miles, have already been
mentioned in our article EUROPE. This range
declines abruptly on the western side. The
highest part is in the province of Orenburg, and
the most elevated near the western verge of the
range. These, however, do not exceed 4500 feet
in height
The principal rivers descending towards the
south are the Volga, the Don, and the Dnieper.
Those that run in an opposite direction, the Pet-
shora, the Dwina, the Neva, and the Duna, with
their tributaries.
The level nature of the soil, and the number
of large rivers, are extremely favorable to inter-
nal navigation of all kinds. Peter the Great com-
pleted the navigation from the Caspian to the
Baltic, by opening the canal of Vishnei Voloshok,
between the river Twerza, that falls into the
Volga, and the Shlina, which terminates in the
gulf of Finland. Various other plans of internal
navigation have at different times been wholly
or partially executed ; and the repose of peace,
aided by the information which the Russians
have derived from their visits to the more im-
proved nations of Europe, will doubtless be em-
ployed in promoting the national resources of
these vast dominions. Among these improve-
ments, the construction of canals is finding a
place, though they are rendered less necessary
in Russia than in most other countries, by the
RUSSIA.
119
continued intensity of the frost, which makes the
conveyance of heavy articles on sledges a matter
of ease constantly to be depended on. No sooner
has the frobt set in than sledge-ways, covered
with these vehicles, are opened from the gulf of
Archangel to the mouth of the Don, and from
the banks of the Irtish to those of the Neva.
Some of the Russian lakes are the largest bodies
of fresh water in Europe : as those of Ladoga,
Peypus, Onega, and ILmen. Russia also con-
tains several others.
Russia is generally connected with the idea of
cold ; but this applies only to the northern dis-
tricts ; those of the opposite extreme participate
in the temperature, and yield all the products of
southern Europe. With respect to climate,
European Russia may be divided into three dis-
tinct regions ; the cold otie from 60° northward ;
the temperate between 50° and 60° ; and the
warm from 50° to the southern extremity. In
the first of these the severity of winter is sreat,
and confines the labors of agriculture to a very
limited period. Little vegetation appears before
June ; but then the accumulated heat of almost
continual day renders its progress vigorous and
rapid. The extremes of heat and cold at St.
Petersburg!! during ten years were as follow : —
GREATEST HEAT.
GREATEST COLD.
I
Year.
Day.
Degree of Fahrenheit.
Day.
Degree of Fahrenheit.
1782
12th July
85°
16th February
29° below 0.
1783
17th June
88
9th January
•23 ditto
1784
29th July
92
30th January
8 ditto
1785
23d July
86
3d March
22 ditto
1786
27th June
87
2d January
24 ditto
1787
13th June
92
9th February
14 ditto
1788
18th July
95
{ 20th January \
\ 23d December $
15 ditto
1789
19th July
90
12th January
20 ditto
1790
31st July
78
3d and 10th February
8 ditto
1791
15th June
86
7th and 22d December
10 ditto
The climate here is as changeable as in our
own country. Fahrenheit's thermometer has been
known at St. Petersburgh to be at 3° one day,
and nearly 37° the next; making a difference of
about 34° in a few hours. Storms of thunder
and lightning seldom take place in Russia; but
the aurora borealis is very frequent, and the at-
mosphere is often seen to discharge electric fluid.
Near Moscow the rivers are generally frozen as
early as the beginning of November ; and the ice
seldom breaks up till the middle of Marcn. The
buds of the birch expand in May, and its leaves
fall in September. In the southern parts of this
middle region, particularly in the government of
Tula, Orel, Kursh, and Kiev, the climate re-
sembles that of parts of France. It produces
apples, pears, plums, melons, and arbutuses. But
here, as well as in the former region, the year
embraces only two seasons. Snow clogs the
path of retreating summer, and a vivid sun at
once dissolves the winter's frost. In the southern
regions the luxuriance of warm latitudes greets
the travellers' eye, and wine and silk, with
abundance of choice fruits, are found. Spring
begins with March, and continues to the end of
May. Nature is then arrayed in her rnost brilliant
colors, and every aspect under which she is
viewed is refreshing and beautiful. In June,
the influence of the sun becomes powerful, the
plains lose their verdure, the springs are dried
up, and the rivers cease to flow. Fahrenheit's
thermometer, in the shade, often exceeds 100°.
September is sometimes far advanced before the
fiery glare of summer abates. In this season
ruin and dew seldom fall ; but in the peninsular
province of Tauiida the heat, during the middle
of the day, is tempered by refreshing breezes
from the sea, succeeded in the evening by others
from the land. Here the climate is salubrious ;
though in some other districts of the south the
swamps and saline steppes are unhealthy. As
autumn advances the nights become cold, and
this season is the most sickly in the year. In
winter the tops of the mountains are covered
with snow.
The varieties of the soil we have already
glanced at. Barren deserts occur even in the
southern regions, and wide-spread plains, im-
pregnated with salt. The governments of Vo-
lodimir and Riazan are esteemed the most
productive. There the soil consists of a rich
vegetable mould, and yields all kinds of grain
and esculent vegetables. On some of the
steppes the grass grows to the height of a man.
The Russian forests are perhaps unequalled in
the old world, and consist of oak, pines, cedars,
firs, linden, and birch. The shores of the Volga,
the Ocka, and the Don, are adorned with vast
woods of oak, whence it is conveyed to the ports
of the Baltic and the Euxine. The Valchonskoi
forest, through which the road lies from Viesma
to Moscow, extends on all sides to a great dis-
tance. The governments of Olonetz, Archangel,
Perm, and other northern regions, are likewise
covered with forests of unknown extent. Even
the road from Petersburg to Moscow runs
chiefly through a succession of woods. The fir,
the pine, and the black pine, are the prevailing
trees in the northern parts. On the Ural moun-
tains the cedar grows in abundance, and is often
cut down by the inhabitants for its cones, which
yield excellent oil. The larch flourishes in the
N 2
180
RUSSIA.
north, and is employed in ship-building, and for
its turpentine and charcoal. In addition the
beech, the elm, the maple, and the poplar, grow
in the southern regions. The birch is used in
various ways. Its bark is employed in tanning ;
its leaves afford a yellow dye, its sap a liquor
called birch wine, and its wood not only sup-
plies fuel, but is converted into domestic vessels.
The linden is likewise equally valuable. Its
outer bark is manufactured into carriages,
baskets, trunks, and covering for cottages; and
the inner rind into mats. The rind of its shoots
is platted into shoes for the boors. Its blossom
supplies food for bees, and its wood is made into
boats.
The Russian agriculture is generally in a very
rude state. In the north both the soil and cli-
mate are unfavorable to its progress, and a few
patches of feeble rye are almost the sole evi-
dences of civilisation; and the thinly scattered
inhabitants chiefly derive their subsistence from
the fishery and chase. In Finland also the inha-
bitants grow little grain. See FINLAND.
The productions of this extensive empire, it
has been long said, are as various as the soil and
climate. Here the gifts of Providence are scat-
tered with a profusion which, while it corre-
sponds with the prodigality of the inhabitants,
forms a singular contrast with their indolence,
poverty, and unskilfulness in the arts of wealth
and comfort. The Russians at once suffer from
want, and allow abundance to corrupt ; and
though they might supply the world they depend
on others. The following facts have been re-
cently stated : — ' The harrow consists of short
wooden pegs, driven into thin laths, woven
together with willows. The use of the roller is
hardly known. A crooked stick frequently
serves as a flail. To drain moist lands or
swamps is not at all the practice, though they
are so numerous and prejudicial to man and
beast, and might be converted into the finest
corn fields. The steppe lands are employed a
short time without manure and then forsaken.
When a boor has fixed on a piece of forest land
for the purpose of making it arable, together
with the bushes and young wood, he cut* down
and consigns to the flames, trees which have
stood for . two centuries, and are fit to be the
'mast of some great admiral.' If he cannot fell
such large trees, stripping them of their bark, he
leaves them to wither, and kindles the brush-
wood under them. In burning the dry weeds
and grass for the purpose of manure the forests
are sometimes set on fire, and consumed for
miles. The boor has no conception of artificial
manure, marl, chalk, or pond-mud. The land is
seldom clean harrowed.' Oats, rye, wheat, and
barley, are sown in most parts ; and raised in
considerable quantities. Rice is grown in some
of the southern districts ; but hemp and flax are
the principal objects of culture. In some of
the Uralian mountains they grow wild. Hops
and tobacco are cultivated in the southern pro-
vinces. Beyond 60° of latitude the vegetables
resemble those of the northern parts of Norway
and Sweden. Between 50° and 60° they differ
little from those of Great Britain and Ireland.
Almost all sorts of culinary vegetables are cul-
tivated. This region is also plentifully stocked
with fruit trees and shrubs ; and vast orchards
of apple, pear, plum, and cherry trees appear.
Cherries are produced in such abundance that'
both wine and vinegar are made of them. Nuts
and walnuts are likewise plentiful. Various
berries are annually gathered in vast quantities,
and eaten either raw or preserved. They include
gooseberries, currants, strawberries, cranberries,
&c. &c.
Maize, rice, and cotton, are among the com-
mon products of the south. The fruits comprise
chestnuts, almonds, pomegranates, olives, figs,
peaches, apricots and mulberries, with grapes
and other delicate fruits of southern climates.
The vine is cultivated by the Cossacks of the
Don, but in an imperfect manner. The water-
melon often weighs 30 Ibs., and is of an excel-
lent flavor.
Cattle abound in all parts of Russia, and
form a principal source of wealth. The breed
is often large, and as well as that of the sheep
has been much improved; but they are fre-
quently left to seek their own food in the fields
and forests. Buffaloes are numerous in the
south. The long-tailed sheep, kept by the
Cossacks of the Don, and other tribes in the
south, yield wool of an excellent quality. The
large sheep which range over the steppes of
Taurida are covered with coarse wool mixed
with hair; but the skins of their lambs furnish a
fine colored and valuable fur in great request.
The silky-fleeced Tauridan is also a valuable but
small breed. Sheep indeed are so numerous in
the southern provinces that a common Tartar
often possesses a flock of 1000, and a rich one
of 50,000. There are also great numbers of
swine in Russia.
Notwithstanding the diversity of climate and
treatment, the native Russian horses have a con-
siderable resemblance to each other. All are of
a compact form, with ram-like heads, and long
and meagre necks, but they are hardy and active.
In the governments of Moscow, Tambof, Kazan,
and some others, the native breed has been im-
proved by the introduction of foreign horses
The Tartar horses are of known excellence.
Those of the Cossacks are small but indefatiga-
ble. The Russian cavalry is chiefly composed
of Lithuanian horses. The Russian nobility pay
great attention to the breed of this animal. The
ass is little used ; but, as well as the camel and
dromedary, it is sometimes employed in the
southern provinces for domestic purposes. The
rein-deer is the principal domestic animal in the
north. Goats are common in all the districts ;
and are kept both for their milk and hair. The
peculiar species bred in Taurida sheds its fleece
every spring; it is obtained by combing the
animal at that season. In both silkiness and
elasticity it exceeds the finest wool.
Among the wild animals are the bear, the
wolf, the lynx, the fox, the deer, the elk, the
antelope, and many other smaller species. Those
which are most valued for their furs are inhabit-
ants of Siberia ; but hares and rabbits are com-
mon to all parts. The wild boar is found on the
steppes of the Volga, and the borders of the
Uralian forests ; and is often huuted by the
Cossacks. So much does this animal fatten on
the roots and salt plants of the steppes, that he
RUSSIA.
181
often weighs more than six hundred weight.
The flesh is esteemed a delicacy, und the animal
is rarely killed without danger. The antelope
ranges in large herds in the south.
Russia possesses nearly all the species of
birds which are to be found in Europe. The
number of wild fowl that flock to the desolate
steppes, marshes, and forests, is almost incredi-
ble. Some idea, however, may be formed of
their number by their value when caught; a
bustard, weighing 20 Ibs., is frequently sold for
thirty or forty copecs, which is only equal to a
few pence. Other game are equally plentiful.
The sturgeon is caught in the Volga, and some
of the other rivers, in the highest perfection.
The sterlet -is also an excellent fish, common in
the lakes and rivers; and a rich salmon is pecu-
liar to the Kama, a stream that falls into the
Volga. It is from three to four feet in length.
To the general diffusion of the common species
of European fish through the rivers of Russia,
the eel forms an exception, none being found
either in the Volga or in the rivers to the east of
it. It is also remarkable that the herring and
seal are here found in some of the lakes and
even the rivers.
.VIATIC RUSSIA. — Asiatic Russia extends
from about 37° of E. long., to the eastern
extremity of Asia, (more than 5000 English
miles), and from the Frozen Ocean to the great
range of mountains which separates it from the
central plateau. Its breadth exceeds 1500 miles ;
but it is much narrower towards the east. The
whole surface is computed at 3,000,000 of square
miles,, with about one individual to each. The
population is composed of a variety of primi-
tive tribes, intermixed with a few Russian set-
tlers, and a small accession in the east, which
from its difference in manners, customs, and ap-
pearance, is supposed to be of American descent.
The ancient Greeks and Romans extended their
Scythian Ocean over the wide regions of Sibe-
ria; but Ptolemy, who was better informed, placed
an unknown land in that direction : and Marco
Polo, with other travellers of the middle ages,
obtained some vague ideas of a country in this
part of Asia, rich in furs. In the middle of the
thirteenth century the Monguls had established
a government on the Irtish, in the western part
of Siberia, but Russia was then too frequently
exposed to the ravages of its eastern neighbours
to carry either its arms or its investigations into
those regions. Even when her internal divisions
had enabled her, in some measure, to consolidate
her empire, its southern and eastern frontiers
were exposed to hostile attacks, and the northern
provinces of Archangel afforded the means of
first becoming acquainted with the countries
bordering on that quarter. The Samoiedes of
the Oby and the adjacent districts visited Rus-
sia to barter their furs with the natives. This
excited their curiosity, and enterprises were un-
dertaken to the countries whence the furs were
brought.
Yermack, one of the principal chiefs of the
Cossacks, with about 6000 followers, first entered
Siberia in quest of new regions, and vanquished
Kutchum, the khan of Siber, took his capital,
.ind suddenly found himself at the head of an
almost unlimited empire. Apprehensive, how-
ever, that continual efforts would be made to
wrest the newly-acquired sceptre from his hands,
he endeavoured to secure it by laying it at the
feet of the czar. This was an offer too conge-
nial with the Russian disposition to be refused ;
and, though the conquest was transient, it not
only disclosed those eastern countries, but ani-
mated the hope of permanent success. The
Russians soon after penetrated to the Yenisei, or
Jenisei, and, having conquered the Tonguses, en-
joined them to prosecute their discoveries to the
east. These people fulfilled their commission,
and soon penetrated to the Pisida, which is sup-
posed to have been the Angara, on the opposite
side of which they found a people, whom they
described as ' of good understanding, well set,
with small eyes, flat faced, brown color, and in-
clining to tawney.' But they could not under-
stand their language. The Russians now soon
arrived at the Lena, descending its stream to the
Frozen Ocean ; in 1639 one of their adventurers
reached the eastern shore* Thus, in half a cen-
tury, a few wandering Cossacks and Tungusian
hunters, added an extent of country to the Rus-
sian empire that stretched one-third round the
globe. After this they founded the towns of
Irkutsk and Nertschinsk, and established a line
of posts along the Amur. The map of the Cas-
pian, constructed by Peter the Great, was an
important accession to the progressive geography
of that district, and was the first document which
represented that sea as stretching from north to
south, instead of from east to west, as had been
previously supposed.
The mountainous region, at the south-west ex-
tremity of Asiatic Russia, has always been -inha-
bited by rude tribes, under independent chiefs,
secure in their own fastnesses. Here they have
imbibed, and constantly cherished, the spirit of
the feudal ages ; and, though Russia has made
great advances in the work of subjugation, she
is yet unable to exact more than a precarious
submission, and can only levy her imposts by
force of arms, and a chain of military posts.
Asiatic Russia consists of two distinct parts,
Siberia and Caucasus. The first is divided into
the two great governments of Tobolsk on the
west and Irkutsk on the east. The latter go-
vernment includes the peninsula of Kamschatka.
Besides these two governments, the province of
Astracan, with parts of Caucasus, Perm, and
Orenburg, are Asiatic. We therefore adopt the
following general division : —
Capitals.
(Tobolsk . . Tobolsk
t Irkutsk . . Irkutsk
Astracan . . Astracan
Part of Perm
Part of Orenburg
'Part of Caucasus Georgiewsk
Cossacks of the
Governments.
SIBERIA
Black Sea
Circassia .
! Georgia .
' Lesghistan
Dashes tan
Schirwan .
Mingrelia .
Ekaterinodar
Tiflis
Derber.d
Baku
Xalikara
t 'atalis.
182
RUSSIA.
Abassia, bordering on the north-eastern shores
of the Black Sea, is under the protection of the
Turks ; and Circassia, with some divisions of the
other provinces, nearly independent. Georgia,
however, was incorporated with Russia in 1800.
The extent and population of those various go-
vernments are uncertain.
The ice-bound shores of the Arctic Ocean
stretch along the north ; while the fury of the
eastern wave, and the action of subterranean
tire, seem to have rent the oriental regions into
vast promontories and islands. An immense
range of mountains sweeps along its southern
confines, mingling with the Caspian and Cau-
casan chain. The Uralian mountains, which
constitute the western boundary, we have already
noticed.
In Asiatic Russia the general surface, like that
of the European portion of this empire, is chiefly
composed of steppes; sometimes arid or saline
deserts, at others principally occupied by marshes,
or covered with almost interminable forests;
while some consist of a fertile soil, and produce
a luxuriant vegetation. Asiatic Russia, however,
is not destitute, on its confines, of mountain
ranges." The great ridge which stretches nearly
from the eastern shores of the Caspian to the
promontory of Tschutskoi is known by various
names. The Altaian mountains form a barrier
between this empire and independent Tartary.
South of the lake of Baikal the mountains of that
name, supposed to be the highest points of the
chain, rear their summits to more than 10,000
feet above the sea. In most parts of the chain,
however, they are lower. After bending to the
north, they are known as the Daouria, which
are succeeded by those of the Yablonnoi and
Stannovoi, which give place to the vague deno-
mination of the mountains of Okotsk. The com-
ponent parts of this range are various. In some,
^reat masses of granite indicate a primitive for-
mation, while in others, limestone, marble, pe-
trified shells, and valuable ores abound. This
range gives rise to many of the largest rivers of
Northern Asia; but little is known beyond its
outlines and general direction. Several lower
ridges diverge from it, and diversify the neigh-
bouring districts.
Through Ramtschatka also a mountainous
range stretches, the highest summits of which
are covered with perpetual snow, and many of
them constantly shaken by volcanic fury. One
of these is situated near Nijni Kamtschalka, and
may be seen at the distance of more than 100
miles. Scarcely two years elapse without erup-
tions, when the whole country is covered with
ashes for thirty miles round. Another active
volcano rises near the southern extremity of
Kamschatka.
The Oby, the Yenisei, and the Lena, are
the largest streams, and divide all the broad
part of Siberia into three great basins. A few
smaller streams also enter the Arctic Ocean from
the narrower districts on the east. The first ,of
these vast basins embraces all the space be-
tween the I'ralian mountains and 00° of long.,
l>ein- about :%,0° from ea-t in \%,>i, ;md 20° from
north to south. Many writers place the *
<>f the Oby in the lak' of Alum. or Altyn,
52° of lat, ; but, as the Shabetian is the
only confluent river of that lake, it may, with
propriety, be considered as the parent stream,
which extends several degrees to the south,
and nearly to 95° of long. After crossing
the Altaian chain it flows in a serpentine di-
rection towards the north-west, till it meets
the Irtish, which issues from the said moun-
tain range, and rivals it in magnitude. —
Subsequently to its junction, it winds to the
north, and forms that vast estuary called the Sea
of Oby. Having collected the waters of such a
wide space it becomes a large river long before
it reaches the sea, and is in some places several
miles in width. Its whole length is about 2180
miles, the greater part of which is navigable. —
The Irtish flows nearly in the same direction as
the Oby, but a few degrees more to the west.
Several important streams likewise fall into
the Caspian and Black Seas. The Ural rises
from the south-western part of the Uralian chain,
and, after flowing towards the west, turns to the
south, and enters the Caspian. In the upper
part of its course, its banks are steep and rocky,
but it afterwards flows through a vast saline
steppe : its fisheries are an inexhaustible source
of wealth to the Cossacks. The Volga also falls
into the same sea, which is likewise joined by
the Terek and the Kuma on the west, while the
Kuban or ancient Hypanis flows in the opposite
direction, and enters the Euxine near the Isle of
Taman.
Siberia contains few lakes ; but the vast Bai-
kal has often been delineated as an inland sea.
Another large lake is met with about 52° of lat.
and east of the Irtish. Its length is 170 miles,
and its shape very irregular. An island divide*
it into two parts, called the lakes of Tchany and
Soumi. Several other lakes are situated bet\\, t u
this and the Uralian mountains. That of Altyn
has been mentioned in the description of the
Oby. It is on the north side of the Altaian
chain, and is nearly forty miles long and twenty
broad. The largest lake in the north of Siberia
is the Fiazinskoi, in 68° of lat., and a few de-
grees east of the Yenisei. Some small saline
lakes are found on the steppes north of tin '
pian, and are considered as indications of that
sea having extended much farther north than at
present.
With respect to the climate, Asiatic Russia i<
colder than the European part, under the same
latitudes., Beyond 60° the winter lasts nine or
ten months, and the earth is frozen to a
depth ; but the almost perpetual day imparts
considerable heat to the summer. In the vao
marshes traversed by the lower part of the Oby
the' whole accumulated heat of this period, how-
ever, does not thaw the ground 'more than two
feet; and Gmeliu states, that, at .lakoutsk, in
62°, the ground in the middle of summer wa>
found to be frozen at the depth of three or four
feet. The use of wells is therefore entireU
vented.
In the southern parts the cold is often extreme.
1'allas witnessed the freezing of mercury in 58°
i>t' lat. ; and even on the southern borders in 50°
the cold is severe. North of the lake of Baikal,
the .••uniii! ;l!y MI slum and uncertain
RUSSIA.
183
that agriculture is almost impracticable. In the
most genial parts, where it is attempted, if the
crop does not ripen before the end of August, it
is usually buried in snow, before the husband-
man can reap the reward of his labor. Captain
Cook found snow six feet deep on the eastern
coast in May, which was not dissolved till June.
There the thermometer stood at 32° during the
whole of the former month, and even in the mid-
dle of the latter it did not rise higher than 58°.
In August it reached 65°, and the lowest point to
which it sunk was 40°. In October the ground
was again covered with snow. W inter then be-
gins his sway, and, though in the latitude of
England and some of the finest provinces of
France, the mercury commonly stands below 20°.
With the name of Kamtschatka is connected
the idea of one of the most desolate and inhospi-
table regions on the globe. Its geographical
situation, however, renders its climate and pro-
ductions much superior to those of Siberia.
Baron Steinheil, who lived several years in this
distant land, and drew up a plan for the im-
provement of the country, asserts, ' From a loug
course of observations made during my residence
in Kamtschatka, I am convinced that both the
climate and soil are such as that agriculture
might be carried on with the most complete suc-
cess.' But see our article KAMTSCHATKA.
The forests of Siberia contribute to render the
air in many places damp and unwholesome, par-
ticularly in the western regions. The eastern
districts are colder, but more salubrious. In
most parts the winds are violent, and tremendous
hurricanes often bury both man and beast be-
neath the sand and snow. Near the Caspian
the inhabitants enjoy a warm and protracted
summer, though the winter is cold. In the pro-
vince of Astracan, the heat is sufficient to mature
the grape, and much excellent wine is made. Mul-
berry-trees flourish also, and silk is produced in
considerable quantities. In the mountainous region
of Caucasus, the climate exhibits every variety.
On the southern side heat prevails in the valleys,
and cold on the mountains ; the following extract
from Mr. Glen's Journal gives a good idea of
the climate of the northern side. 'The tempe-
rature of the atmosphere is in general,' he says,
' much more equable than at Astracan ; the ther-
mometer does not rise so high in summer, neither
does it sink so low in winter ; and, what may
appear strange, the temperature is still more
equable in the valleys of the snow mountains.
Last winter (1818-19), when the thermometer
fell to 17° in the colony, the rivulets among vhe
mountains were not frozen, and the valleys were
green all the winter through. The summer heats,
too, are less oppressive. In short, from all ac-
counts, the climate in these valleys does not
materially differ from that of the valleys among
the hills of our native country (Scotland). The
most striking characteristic of a Karass winter,
as it set in about the beginning of December,
1819, was a strong rind (rime), that lodged on
the branches of trees, in the form of minute
icicles, in such quantities as to weigh them to the
ground, or break them. Its appearance is pic-
turesque and romantic in a high degree ; but its
effect particularly in the orchards, destructive.
Nor are large trees proof against its overwhelming
power. I have seen the massy branches of some
of them break down with a crash, in a dead
calm, merely by the weight of the rind. When
it is strong, the whole country is overhung,
sometimes for many successive days, by a thick
fog.'
The oak and the hazel, which bear the rigors
of a German winter, will not flourish under the
same parallels in Siberia. They indeed stretch
along the northern base of the Altaian chain,
but farther north they become stunted. The com-
mon heath that covers many of the lower districts
of Lapland is not to be found in these wastes. It
must not, however, be inferred that these plains
are merely tracts of snow ; on the contrary,
almost interminable forests of birch, elder, lime,
maple, poplar, and aspen, interspersed with
millions of pines, cover many parts. The Si-
berian plum, the crab, the mountain ash, the
willow, and other trees, are found ; and the short
summer exhibits a brilliant display of flowers.
The lily of the valley, and several bulbous-
rooted plants, are concealed beneath the snow
for the greater part of the year.
Though agriculture is but little practised in
Siberia, the crops are occasionally good ; nearly
two-thirds of the country, however, yield no
grain. Hemp and flax are cultivated in some
parts, and the potatoe has likewise been intro-
duced. The cattle, in a few of the richest steppes,
are of a tolerable size, and the Mongol horses
are beautiful ; some of them resembling the tiger,
and the leopard, in the variety of their colors.
In all the northern and eastern regions, except
Kamtschatka, and a few other parts, where dogs
are employed in drawing sledges, the rein-deer
is, however, the most valuable possession of the
natives. The utility of this singular animal is
greatly enhanced by its capability of enduring
the most extreme cold, and subsisting on a spe-
cies of moss. A Samoiede often possesses 150
or 200 ; and the wealthy Koriaks and Tchoukt-
chis several thousands each. The Siberian dog
resembles the wolf, and in many parts supplies
the place of the rein-deer, in drawing the sledge.
The wild animals are numerous.
The mineral productions of Russia are chiefly
obtained in the Asiatic regions.
The primitive mountains supply granite and
porphyry in great abundance. Alabaster is also
found in extraordinary quantities and of every
color. Yellow, gray, and cloudy marble abounds
in many places, and white is found in the Ura-
lian quarries, little inferior to the finest Parian.
A great variety of cems have also been dis-
covered in the mountainous part of the empire.
Various parts of Russia yield gold, silver,
copper, iron, and lead. The chief gold-mines
are on the Asiatic side of the Uralian mountains,
and were first opened in 1754. These annually
supply about 6430 tons of ore, which yield
about 1901bs. of refined metal. But the produce
has now oeen increased, as is stated, to nearly
28011-s. of gold. The mines which were pre
viously opened, in the mountains of Olonetz,
have either been abandoned or are now little
productive.
Twines of silver are worked in several places,
184
RUSSIA.
but chiefly in Asia ; and the whole produce is
stated at 46,800lbs. of the refined metal. Lead
mines have been worked in Russia for more
than a century, and still yield a considerable
quantity of metal. The number of workmen
employed in all these mines is estimated at
70,000; and the value of the produce exceeds
double the expenses of working them. Copper
is obtained jn the mountains of Olonetz, in the
Uralian chain, and in Asia. The quantity of
copper now annually obtained has lately been
stated at 67,000 quintals, each equal to about
108lbs. avoirdupois, which is consequently equal
to 3230 tons ; and its value exceeds £250,000.
Most of the mountains, and many of the plains,
of Russia atford iron-ore, and great quantities
are annually procured, in the manufacturing of
which about 100 forges and 800 hammers are
constantly employed. The value of the iron is
more than double that of the copper. The whole
produce of all the gold and silver mines belongs
to the crown, with a sixth of the copper and
one-eighth of the iron.
Coal has been found in various parts of Russia,
and attempts are making, under the immediate
sanction of the emperor, for discovering it in
others.
Salt abounds, and is found in the pure and
solid rock, at the bottom of the lakes, in the
liquid spring, and incrusting the plains. Rock
salt is obtained in the government of Orenburg,
and in the steppe of the Volga ; the salt lakes
of Saratof, Taurida, and other places, yield large
quantities, as well as the impregnated springs of
Perm and Novogorod. Glauber's salts, and seve-
ral of the other saline species, are likewise found.
Thermal springs are found in various places, and
of different temperatures, from merely warm to
1 90° of Fahrenheit's thermometer. The most cele-
brated vitriolic waters are at Sarepta, near the
banks of the Volga, in the government of Sara-
tof, and are much frequented. The water is
clear and saline, its taste not unpleasant, and its
temperature generally about 10° of Fahrenheit
above the common water in its vicinity. These
waters are beneficial in various complaints, such
as inflammation:), cramps, and inveterate colds.
They are supposed to contain about l-200th part
of earthly and mineral ingredients. The spring
is very copious. The principal places in Euro-
pean Russia where naphtha is found are in the
district of Perekop, in the government of Tauri-
da, and in the Island of Taman ; but it is still
more abundant in the Asiatic part of the empire.
Incrusting springs are numerous, and the moun-
tains contain stalactic caverns, with springs that
mcrust substances with a coating of iron ore.
The chief towns of the provinces will be found
in their places in our alphabet, and ST. PETERS-
BURG and Moscow have received our particular
atteniion, see these articles. Kiev, the original
«:radle of the monarchy, was settled by a colony
of Sarmates before the Christian era. Its appear-
ance from the Moscow road is thus described
by Mr. James : — ' Arrived at the top of a decli-
vity," says our traveller, 'a new scene presented
itself. The cupolas, that before were but as spots
in the vjpw, faced us with a blaze of gold, and
* tixniyiriii JMV colors which dazzled the eye.
The country below showed an unvaried plain of
immeasurable extent, covered with a thick forest,
through the middle of which the Dnieper, now
dwindled to a streamlet, was seen winding its
silvery path into the horizon. It was a land
seeming untouched by man, and afforded a pros-
pect as wild in appearance as any that the most
uncivilised tracts of America could furnish.'
Kiev is celebrated for its ancient catacombs,
which render it the resort of numerous pilgrims,
many of whom undertake a journey of 1500
versts on foot.
Tcherchaskoy, the capital of the Don Cossacks,
is situated on the river Don, about 100 miles
before it is lost in the sea of Azof. It is thus
described by Dr. Clarke : — ' The appearance of
Tcherchaskoy, as the traveller approaches it upon
the river, affords a most novel spectacle. Al-
though not so grand as Venice, it somewhat re-
sembles that city. The entrance is by broad
canals intersecting it in all parts. On each side
wooden houses, built on piles, appear to float on
the water ; to these the inhabitants pass in boats,
or on narrow bridges, only two planks wide,
with posts and rails, forming a causeway to every
quarter of the place. As we sailed into the
town, we beheld the younger part of the inhabit-
ants upon the house-tops, sitting upon the ridges
of the sloping roofs, while their dogs were actu-
ally running about and barking in that extraor-
dinary situation. During our approach, children
leaped from the windows and doors like so
many frogs, into the water, and in an instant
were seen swimming about our boat. Every
thing seemed to announce an amphibious race :
not a square inch of dry land was to be seen ; in
the midst of a very populous metropolis, at least
one half of its citizens were in the water, and the
other in the air.' The population is estimated
at 15,000 individuals. Nicholaef is the chief
town in the southern part of the empire.
The principal town in the eastern part of Si-
beria is Irkutsk, on the right bank of the river
Angara, at a short distance from the sea of Ii;u-
kal. The streets are in general broad and i
lar, but not paved. Most of the private dwellings
are of wood ; the government buildings and
churches of stone This is now considered as
the capital of the whole of Siberia. The mode
of living is quite oriental ; and the wives
and daughters of the principal citizens are sel-
dom seen except on public occasions. Nearly
in the same latitude, on the Chinese borders,
and about ten or twelve degrees further cust,
stands Nertschink, in the midst of a mining dis-
trict. The caravans engaged in the Chi;ia trade
formerly passed through Nertschink, but I
they have followed a different route it has de-
clined. Kiakhta, in the government of Irkutsk,
and on the border* of China, has lately risen to
eminence, as the centre of the trade between the
two empires.
The privilege of engaging in arts and in<ninfnf-
tiircs in Russia was, till lately, reserved tor lh<;
nobility and the first and second class of artizans.
Hut the emperor Alexander, by an imperial
I'kase, dated December 1818, removed this ob-
stacle to improvement. Among the articles
most extensively made are linen, leather, isin-
RUSSIA.
185
glass, and kaviar, of which large quantities are
exported. The two latter are prosecuted with
great success on the banks of the Volga, and
other great rivers in the south. Silk, cotton,
woollen-cloth, sail-cloth, hats, lace, glass, por-
celain, oil, soap, candles, cordage, and paper,
are likewise manufactures found in various parts
of the empire. Those of pitch, tar, pot-ash,
alum, saltpetre, and gunpowder, with iron, brass,
and copper works, are numerous : nor is any one
more extensive or more productive to the revenue
than that of spirituous liquors. Cannon, and
all other implements of war, are made in great
numbers ; and several steam engines have been
purchased in England, for the improvement of
the different national establishments. Breweries
and sugar-refineries have likewise been intro-
duced.
Thejisheriet of the Volga, the Ural, and other
rivers, form an important part of the Russian
industry. Those of the last named river belong
rntirely to the Cossacks, to whom it has proved
an inexhaustible source of wealth. The manner
in which they are conducted is thus described
in the European commerce of Rordansz : — 'The
river Ural flows into the Caspian ; when winter
approaches, the fish seek refuge in the river from
the storms which at that season Tint the Caspian.
They ascend the river in such immense numbers
that it is hardly possible to form an idea of it,
and stop at different places where they find suf-
licient water and food. The Cossacs carefully
observe, beforehand, all the places where such a
mass is collected, and wait there patiently till
the river is frozen over. On the 1st of January
the fishery begins upon the whole river, from the
capital town Uralski, down into the Caspian
Sea. Above and below the several banks of fish,
the hetman first causes the river to be blockaded
by means of laige double nets extended across
its whole breadth, which is effected by cutting
in the ice a ditch, if it maybe so called, two feet
broad. As soon as it is certain that the fish can-
not escape, the governor of Orenburg and the
hetman of the Cossacks repair to a certain place
on the bank of the river, and on both sides of
it above 30,000 Cossacks are ready, each in his
own sledge, drawn by a strong and swift-footed
horse, and armed with a harpoon and an axe.
By the order of the governor, a cannon is fired
as a signal for beginning ; hereupon the Cossacks
all rush upon the river, and drive full speed to
the fish-bank, enclosed with nets, which is usually
some versts distant. Those who arrive first are
praised not only for the swiftness of their horses,
but for their courage, for this racing is attended
with no little danger ; because, if any one should
be so unskilful, or so unlucky, as to overturn his
sledge, all those that follow would infallibly
drive over him. As soon as the Cossacks reach
the place where there is such a bank of fish,
they immediately cut a hole in the ice with their
axe, and thrust in their harpoon, and the quan-
tity of fish is so great that they never fail to
strike one at every time. The terrible noise
caused by the driving of 30,000 sledges over the
frozen river naturally terrifies the fish, which
try all to escnpe at once, but are hindered by the
The greatest difficulty for the fishermen
is to draw out the fish, and they are often obliged
to call their comrades to assist ; for they some-
times spear fish weighing 150lbs. to 200 Ibs. ;
but in such cases they must divide the fish with
him who assists them. This fishery continues
the whole winter, during which the Cossacks
dwell in tents on both sides of the river. They
proceed successively from one bank of fish to
another, down to the mouth of the river. Dur-
ing this time, the river affords a very peculiar
spectacle ; both its surface and its two banks are
covered with a countless multitude of men, who
are in constant motion. Traders come from the
remotest parts of the empire to buy the fish im-
mediately from the Cossacks, with a great train
of sledges, all loaded with salt; they constantly
attend the fishery in its progress down the river
to the sea. Every evening the Cossacks sell to
them what they have caught during the day, and
receive payment on the spot. The merchants
send the fish (which are frozen quite hard) to
Moscow, Casan, &c., and also an incredible
quantity of the salted row of sturgeon, known
under the name of kaviar. It is astonishing
what a great number of different kinds of fish
are found in the Ural, and they all attain an ex-
traordinary size, particularly the sturgeon, sal-
mon, and pike. The very best of these fish cost,
on the banks of the Ural, not more than a half-
penny, or three farthings a pound. The day
when the fishery begins, the governor has the
fish, which the Cossacks send as a present to the
emperor, chosen from among the whole number,
and sends them without delay to St. Petersburgh,
where they arrive quite frozen. The quantity is
fixed, and it is said to be very considerable. In
summer the Cossacks also carry on the fishery;
but it is far less productive, and, as the fish will
not keep in this season, the Cossacks salt them
immediately, and send them to the neighbouring
towns for sale.' The whale and seal fishery is
chiefly prosecuted in the Arctic Ocean.
Among the exports of Russian commerce, are
iron, copper, hemp, flax, linen, sail-cloth, cord-
age, grain, tobacco, linseed, saltpetre, and oil ;
with timber, planks, masts, pitch, tar, resin,
pot-ash, wax, tallow, hides, candles, isinglass,
kaviar, and horse-hair. Leather is the most im-
portant manufacture exported, and the greatest
endeavours are used to keep the method by which
it is prepared a secret. For these articles the
Russians receive in return silks, woollen, and
cotton cloth, hardware, looking-glasses, stock-
ings, watches, wines, brandy, and fruits from
southern Europe, with colonial produce, paper,
books, engravings, &c., from England, and other
states. It is estimated that one-half of the trade
of Russia is carried on within the confines of the
capital. The trade of Russia with Persia is by
means of the Caspian, and the caravans that
travel to Orenburg, a few degrees north of that
sea. The chief articles are woollens, furs, iron,
steel, copper, lead, and other native productions.
Russia receives in return silk, cotton, drugs,
tapestry, gold, pearls, and diamonds. Thetrade
of China is carried on from the frontier of Sibe-
ri;i, and consists in the exchange of furs, iron,
copper, and other minerals, for Chinese silks,
tea, musk, tigor skins, and a few: other articles.
186
RUSSIA.
The annual amount of this commerce is between
3,000,000 and 4,000,000 of rubles. With
Turkey, the Russians exchange kaviar, soap, lea-
ther, iron, and other produce, for olive oil,
wines, rice, and fruits. Of the whole foreign
European trade of Russia more than half is with
Great Britain, the different articles of which have
been specified above.
We may now exhibit the comparatively mo-
dern rise and progress of the maritime greatness
of Russia. At the close of the seventeenth cen-
tury, when Peter the Great ascended the throne,
Russia was still in a state of barbarism, in com-
parison with the other nations of Europe. This
prince possessed from nature a great activity of
disposition, an impatient ardor, and a perseve-
rance which obstacles only served to stimulate.
With such a character it was natural that Peter
should form the project of improving his sub-
jects, and of making Russia act a part amongst
the nations of Europe; but to this effect it was
necessary to have suitable communications with
the ocean, and the procuring them was the first
object of the enterprises of the czar. He first
turned his views towards the White Sea, and in
person visited Archangel ; but observing that its
distance, and the severity of its climate, opposed
insurmountable obstacles to any considerable ex-
tension of industry and commerce, his next ob-
ject was the Black Sea, situated under a more
favorable climate, but of which the coasts were
possessed, and the navigation watched with jea-
lousy by the Turks. A war breaking out be-
tween the two nations, Peter attacked Azoph,
but failed in the attempt, for want of vessels to
block it by water. A fleet being, however,
quickly created, the following year put him in
possession of this fortress and its territory, but
which the defeat of Pruth again obliged him to
relinquish.
Peter now seriously occupied himself in the
creation of a navy ; and, in order to give full
effect to his designs, he visited, as we have seen
in his life, England, Germany, and Holland, in
order to acquire a knowledge of the art of con-
structing vessels, and of the details of a marine.
During his travels the activity and opulence of
Riga, Konigsberg, and other ports of the Baltic,
did not fail to strike him, and to give him a just
idea of the importance of maritime commerce.
Not far from the frontiers of his dominions he
met Augustus, who, on being raised to the throne
of Poland, had promised his subjects to recon-
quer the Polish provinces, reduced under the
dominion of Sweden ; but, being too weak to
execute this promise alone, he proposed a coalition
to the czar. A perspective conformable to the
views of Peter now presented itself; and on his
return to his dominions he armed, and the coasts
of the Baltic became the theatre of his efforts.
While Charles XII. was overrunning Poland and
Saxony, Peter seized on Ingria, and founded
Peters!. ur_r.
In spite of the superiority of situation, and the
encouragement given to foreigners to visit his
infant capital, a great part of the productions of
Russia were still sent to Archangel, until, prohibi-
tions and punishments being added to premiums
nd privilege-: Petersburg at last triumphed.
The first foreign vessel that entered the Neva was
a large Dutch ship, richly laden ; and her arrival
caused such satisfaction to the czar that he
granted this vessel an exemption from all duties
while she should continue to trade to Petersburg :
and by frequent repairs she was kept in existence
for more than half a century. So early as 1718
100 ships of the same nation loaded at Peters-
burg ; and, other nations following the example
of the Dutch, it was soon known that a vast
field was opened in the north for the exercise of
talents and industry, and strangers of all nations
flocked to Russia to improve or seek their fortunes.
The merchants of Germany, England, France
Holland, Denmark, and Sweden, established
themselves in the cities for the purposes of com-
merce, while the English and Dutch also sup-
plied ship-builders and officers, both of land and
sea, who improved the organisation of the ar-
mies and fleets.
The plans of Peter were not lost sight of by
his successors ; Catharine II., in particular, by
her victories and her negociations, as well as by
the encouragement of foreigners and the protec-
tion of commerce, accelerated the progress of
industry and civilisation amongst her subjects.
Although a part of the commercial productions
of the Russian dominions are still exported from
Archangel, and another part from the ports of the
Black Sea, since its navigation has been opened ,
the principal commerce of Russia is by the
Baltic. From its ports on this sea are exported
corn, hemp, flax and flax-seed, fir timber (masts,
deals, rafters), pitch, tar, and potash, iron and
copper of Siberia, hides and tallow, honey and
wax, rhubarb, tobacco in leaf, fish oil, isinglass,
kaviar, and furs of Siberia, viz. castors, sables,
foxes of various colors, wolves, squirrels, bears,
rats, and white hares. In 1793 Russia exported
by sea, for 400,000 rubles of these furs ; sea-
birds' feathers, horse-hair, hogs' bristles, and
neats' tongues. The chief manufactured objects
are saltpetre, cordage, and sail-cloth ; coarse
linens, mats, and soap. The principal imports
are English manufactures, viz. fine woollens,
glass, and earthenware, stationary, all kinds of
cottons, mathematical instruments, cutlery, and
hardware, tin and lead. The other imports are
colonial produce, particularly coffee, pf which
Petersburg imports nearly 1,500,000 Ibs. ; sugar,
of which it receives nearly 5,000,000 Ibs. ; tea
and spices, wines, liqueurs, fruits, and oil of the
south ; fine linens of Holland and Silesia ; silks
of France, watches, toys, &c., of ditto, besides
various utensils of iron and copper.
In the middle of the eighteenth century the
exports of Russia from the Baltic did not exceed
12,000,000 or 13,000,000 of rubles, and the im-
ports about 8,000,000 or 10,000,000. At the
close of the same century the exports exceed-
ed 45,000,000, and the imports were above
32,000,000. The general statement of the Rus-
sian maritime commerce (independently of the
Caspian and Siberian Seas *) was as follows :—
* The amount of the commerce of the Caspian
Sea, in late years, has been about 100,000 rubles
of exports, and 800,000 of imports.
RUSSIA.
187
Exports.
Imports.
1802, From the Baltic
1804,
1805,
llubles.
47,000,000
45,OCO,000
52,000,000
Rubles.
33,000,000
27,000,000
29,000,000
1802, From Archangel
1804,
1805,
5,000,000
2,200,000
3,750,000
550,000
390,000
390,000
1 802,From the Black Sea
1804,
1805,
3,000,000
5,000,000
7,400,000
2,055,000
4,200,000
5,356,000
Catharine II., by duties and prohibitions, en-
deavoured to diminish the mass of imports ; and,
by late regulations, certain objects are allowed
to be imported by foreigners only into the ports
of Petersburg, Riga, Revel, and Liebau. But,
though the manufactures of Russia have advanced
beyond the state of infancy they were in half a
century past, they are still very insufficient to
afford all the objects that increasing civilisation
renders necessaries to the higher classes, such as
fine manufactures for clothing, wines, ornamental
furniture, &c.
Russia presents a singular phenomenon among
the maritime powers, that of possessing an im-
posing military marine with a very insignificant
commercial one. The total number of her mer-
chant vessels that navigate the Baltic and the
ocean did not very lately exceed fifty ; 100 lesser
vessels serve to carry on the coasting trade of
the Baltic, and about 100 craft, of twenty to
thirty tons, are employed in loading and dis-
charging the vessels at Cronstadt that cannot
enter the Neva. Not one of the Russian ports,
except Petersburgh, has any establishments for
building or repairing ships. Even the few ships
that sail under the Russian flag from Riga and
Revel belong to the merchants of Hamburg and
Lubeck,who, in order to profit by the drawback
of three-eighths of the duties on imports, have
purchased the freedom of these cities.
Russia has two trading companies, one for
carrying on the herring-fishery in the \Vhite Sea,
and the North-west American Company. A
company has also been founded at Petersburg
for saving the cargoes of vessels wrecked in the
gulf of Finland ; and the fourth part of the pro-
perty saved is adjudged to the company as sal-
vage. Several ukases also prescribe to the inha-
bitants of the coasts the measures to be taken to
assist the crews and save the cargoes of the
stranded vessels.
Under the immediate successors of Peter the
dreat the Russian navy was neglected, and had
little more than a nominal existence. When
Catharine II. mounted the throne, this ambitious
ind enlightened princess auain invited English
uul other foreign ship -builders and officers to
Petersburg ; and among the English was Sir
Charles Knowles, a captain in the British navy,
who united the professional knowledge of the
complete practical seaman to an intimate ac-
quaintance with the theory of naval construction.
lor his direction the Russian marine was
soon put on a respectable footing, and many
of the abuses in its civil administration corrected.
Towards the end of Catharine's reign the marine
again declined, but revived under Paul, who
built many ships, and introduced several im-
provements into the administration. The Rus-
sian dominions afford every article necessary to
the construction and equipment of a navy. At
Cronstadt and Petersburg the ships are built of
the oak of Kasan ; the Ukraine and government
of Moscow supply hemp ; masts are procured
from the vast pine forests of Novogorod, and
from the Polish provinces; pitch and tar from
Wyborg ; iron and copper from Siberia. In
spite of all these advantages the marine is far
from having attained a height proportionate to
the land forces of the empire. The want of ports
on the ocean, and of colonies and fisheries
abroad, as well as the state of vassalage of the
peasantry, which binds them to the soil, are the
chief causes that keep down the military marine,
as well as the commercial, by preventing the
formation of seamen. The government has,
however, latterly done something towards form-
ing national seamen, by obliging all Russian
ships to have two-thirds of their crews natives;
and binding the captains, under a penalty of 240
rubles, to bring back to port every Russian sea-
man he carries from it. There is, however, no
restriction with respect to the countries of the
captains and officers of merchant vessels ; and
the greater number of those in the Russian
foreign traders are foreigners. It has also been
latterly the custom to send young men, at the ex-
pense of the crown, into the English service to
learn the profession, and they have been admitted
into the British navy as volunteers.
In 1803 a school of naval architecture w;is
founded at Petersburg, the expenses of which are
paid by government, and amount to upwards of
200,000 rubles a year. There is also a similar insti-
tution at Nicolaef in the Black Sea. The palace of
Oranienbaum has been appropriated for a naval
academy, in which 600 cadets are educated at
the expense of the crown. They are admitted
at the age of five years, and remain till seven-
teen : during the last three years they make an
annual cruise in the Baltic, as far as Revel.
There are also navigation schools at Riga, Arch-
angel, and Irkutsk in Siberia, and a school for
Baltic pilotage at Cronstadt.
The government of Russia is a despotic mo-
narchy ; the sovereign uniting in himself the
legislative, executive, and judicial authorities.
Any subject, from the highest to the lowest, may
be banished, and his property confiscated, at the
pleasure of the czar. The succession appears to
be hereditary ; but one prince has often been
deposed and another raised to the throne with-
out exciting any commotion. The emperor is
generally assisted, however, by a number of
ministers and counsellors of his own appointing.
The grand chancellor is the first officer of state ;
and under him are ministers for foreign affairs,
finances, war, marine, interior, religious worship,
public instruction, and police. The different
councils in which the ministers preside are
styled imperial colleges : the members, with a
number of other statesmen appointed by the
188
RUSSIA.
emperor, amounting altogether to thirty-five,
compose the supreme council, which is invested
with a superintending and controlling power over
all the public affairs. The senate is another
public body, established by the late emperor in
1801, and of which his imperial majesty is the
president. This body has the revision of both
civil and criminal affairs. It receives reports
from all the inferior departments, decides in
every difficult case that arises in the tribunals;
and from its decrees there lies no appeal except
to the emperor. AH questions are determined in
this body by a majority of votes, amounting to
two-thirds of the whole: in the other depart-
ments unanimity is necessary. The senate is the
organ of the decrees or ukases of the emperor.
The cabinet is a distinct council from any of the
above, and has generally consisted of ten mem-
bers, including the high steward of the house-
hold. This council manages his majesty's private
affairs, examines petitions, despatches, and ac-
counts, and watches over the produce of the
revenue. It also assists the emperor in delibe-
rating on the appeals received from the senate.
The civil law in Russia is a collection of rules
derived from most of the other states of Europe,
and methodised under the direction of Catharine
II. She divided the empire into provinces, and
adopted a variety of regulations for the better
administration of justice. Courts are now esta-
blished in each of the provinces, and judges
appointed by the crown. But an impartial
administration of justice cannot be introduced
between the nobles who are tyrants, and the
peasants, slaves. The criminal law admits of
capital punishment for high treason only ; and
the humanity of the emperor Alexander induced
him to abolish torture. Felons receive the knout,
are branded on the cheek and forehead, and sen-
tenced to hard labor. Many of them are sent to
the mines of Siberia, where numbers perish
from the effects of the knout, the fatigue of tra-
velling nearly 5000 miles in fetters, and the un-
healthy state of the mines.
The nominal force of the army is 600,000 ;
but in time of peace one-fifth or one-sixth of this
number is non-effective, and at least an equal
number are required for garrison duty. At the
beginning of 1812 the utmost exertions of the
emperor could not bring into the field more than
200,000 men. The navy we have already no-
ticed.
According to the most authentic accounts the
revenue of Russia is nearly £25,000,000 sterling,
arising chiefly from a poll tax, first imposed by
Peter the Great ; a tax on the capital of mer-
chants residing within the imperial dominions;
duties on the exports and imports, and upon law
proceedings; together with the produce of the
royal domains and monopolies. There are like-
wise stamp duties, and various other imposts.
The established religion is the Greek church,
ati'l has been fully described in our article
GREEK CHURCH. There are about 2,000,000 of
separatists, with a great number of Mahometans
and Pagans, as well as Protestants and Roman
Cntliolics, to all of whom complete toleration is
allowed. The mo<:l singular of the sects is the
Duhoborsti, who, after many persecutions, have
been allowed to settle undisturbed in Taurida.
They have neither priests, church, nor picture* ;
and reject both baptism and the Lord's supper.
They are sober, industrious, and gentle, and dis-
tinguished by mutual affection, hospitality, and
benevolence. They take great care to bring up
their children in the principles and precepts of
religion. Their worship is confined neither to
place nor time, and consists of singing, praying,
and reading the scriptures. They have all things
in common, and their only punishment for those
who have transgressed the rules of the society is
banishment from the community.
Education was much neglected in Russia till a
late period ; for though various schools, acade-
mies, and colleges were instituted, their benefits
were confined to certain classes, and their in-
fluence was little felt on the general condition of
society. A great number of schools have been
established, in the different provinces, for the
education of the peasants. The academies and
universities have been improved or remodelled,
and more amply endowed with funds, for the
liberal support of the professors, and the better
accommodation of the students, the number of
whom has been greatly increased. The Russian
language is a dialect of the Sclavonian, harsh
and difficult of utterance, but it is said to possess
great copiousness. The alphabet comprises
thirty-six letters, formed of the Greek characters,
with others apparently of native origin. The
language, however, is far from being in a precise
form.
Dr. Clarke says, * in whatever country we
seek original genius we must go to Russia for a
talent of imitation. It is the scheme of Russian
intellect ; the principle of all their operations.
They have nothing of their own ; but it is not
their fault if they have not every thing that others
invent. Their surprising cowers of imitation
exceed all that has hitherto been known. The
meanest Russian slave has been found adequate
to the accomplishment of the most intricate and
most delicate works of mechanism, to copy,
with his single hand, what has demanded the
joint labors of the best workmen in France or
England.' Mr. James (in reference to this sub-
ject)— ' Newly extricated from barbarism, the in-
fant mind is seized with the desire of pursuing
whatever strikes the fancy, or serves to interest;
or amuse, while the labors of more rigid science
and learning are entirely thrown aside. We find
at Petersburgh few men of abstruse acquire-
ments, yet musicians, poets, and painters in
abundance ; and the nation has arrived in these
arts, it must be confessed, at a highly reputable
pitch of perfection. The works of art, though
not fraught with the spirit of originality of the
southern professors, yet display in almost every
branch the most correct and refined taste ; and
even the natives shine, while the prejudices of
their countrymen have denied them a fair share
of patronage. The academy of arts is fostered
by the superintendence cf the crown ; and, from
the revenues allotted to it, it is well furnished with
models from the antique, as well as other matters
suited to its institution. The labors of the stu-
dents exhibit some of the highest specimens of
imitative excellence ; their designs in architec-
RUSSIA.
189
ture are of great merit, and their pictures pos-
sess a free style of execution, combined with
chasteness and harmony of color, seldom equalled
in any school.' Their music is framed in the
Italian state. Many of the national airs are ex-
tremely simple and regular. The cultivation of
science has been encouraged by the establishment
of various institutions for that purpose ; and seve-
ral volumes of the memoirs of the Academy of
Sciences, founded at St. Petersburgh in 1725,
have been distinguished by the excellence of their
papers in the abstruse parts of mixed mathema-
tics. The chief Russian universities are those of
St. Petersburgh, Kiev, and Abo, with the col-
leges founded by Peter the Great at Moscow.
More than eighty distinct nations are said
to be included within the limits of this empire,
and thus exhibit man in every state of his phy-
sical and moral condition, from the being who
lives on the produce of the chase, clothed in the
skins of his prey, and sheltered in the recess of a
rock, or the wandering Nomade, who pitches his
tent to-day, removes it to-morrow, and is entirely
dependent upon the produce of his flock, through
the humble peasant, the industrious husband-
man, the jngenious mechanic,* the wealthy mer-
chant, the owners of almost unknown estates,
and the proprietors of men, to the autocrat of all
the Russias. The Sclavonians constitute the
great body of the population of European Rus-
sia : this part of the empire embraces, beside
Fins and Laplanders on the north-west, the Sa-
moides on the north-east ; the Cossacks on the
south, and the Tartars of Taurida on the south-
east. The Sclavonic Russians are middle-sized,
robust, and vigorous, differing little in com-
plexion from the inhabitants of Great Britain.
Those towards the north are a more diminutive
race. Their characteristic physiognomy, accord-
ing to Mr. Tooke, is a small mouth and eyes, thin
lips, and white teeth, the nose usually small and
turned upwards, the forehead low, the beard
thick and bushy, and the hair varying from dark
brown to red. The general expression of the
countenance is that of gravity rather than spright-
liness, but indicating much good-nature. Ac-
customed to implicit obedience from the nature
of the government, and trained to the endurance
of hardships and privation from their manner of
life, they seem neither to fear danger, nor shrink
from fatigue, are subject to few diseases, and fre-
quently attain old age. With the same general
features the women have a delicate skin and a
fine complexion, which they often destroy by a
free use of paint. ' On looking at their faces
you easily discern the Tartar and Kalmuc ingrat-
tation upon the old Moscovite stock. The vi-
sage is short, the bones of the cheek high, the
forehead projecting:, and the eyes small. Their
stature is commonly of the middle size; and,
from their habits of life, both men and women
are inclined to be very corpulent. When a tinge of
the Georgian Poles and Circassians mingles with
the Russian blood, the result is the most exqui-
site beauty.'
The whole people of Russia may be said to
consist only of two distinct orders, the nobles
and the peasants. The interval between these
has been denominated a tiers etat ; but, a? far as
relates to all the practical purposes of life, it is
filled up by foreigners, who once enjoyed all lie
lucrative branches of commerce, in which only a
few of the natives as yet participate. 'The
privileges of a nobleman consist in being ex-
empted from military conscription, and from
corporal punishment ; in having the right to es-
tablish manufactories, to possess land and slaves,
to impose taxes, and to inflict chastisement upon
them, &c. The charges on this class are to fur-
nish recruits to the crown, .and to pay a certain
fee on the alienation cf their property. Besides
those who enjoy the above-mentioned rights by
inheritance, these advantages are attached to cer-
tain stations in the civil and military lines ; as-
sessors in the chancery, for instance, and all offi-
cers of the army or navy, are called nobles, though
the possession of slaves is limited to persons above
the rank of major. The imperial companies of
trade at Petersburg also participate in certain of
these immunities, and are allowed to use carriages
with one pair of horses. But even the nobility
can neither marry, nor choose a profession,
without the emperor's consent. Their estates are
valued by the number of peasants they support.
Several of the nobility possess more than 100,000
peasants ; the property belonging to the family
of Scheremeter consists of 125,000 slaves. Both
in their privileges, and in their manner of life,
these nobles seem to be exact copies of the great
feudal barons of the middle ages. Many of them,
in the country, have households consisting of
500 or 600 peasants, who perform all the various
duties of butchers, bakers, tailors, shoemakers,
footmen, valets, surgeons, musicians, and come-
dians ; for which they are selected without dis-
crimination. Their destinations are determined
upon, and they are then qualified for them by
the cudgel.' — James's Travels.
Dr. Clarke exhibits a lively picture of the ef-
fect of the extremes of poverty and riches in this
empire.
' To this poverty, and to these riches, are
equally joined,' he says, ' the most abject mean-
ness, and the most despicable profligacy. In
sensuality they are without limits of law, con-
science, or honor; in their amusements always
children ; in their resentment women. The tHys
of infants, the baubles of French fops, constitute
the highest objects of their wishes. Novelty de-
lights the human race ; but no part of it seeks for
novelty so eagerly as the Russian nobles. Novelty
in their debaucheries ; novelty in gluttony ; novelty
in cruelty ; novelty in whatever they pursue. This
is not the case with the lower class, who preserve
their habits unaltered from one generation to
another. But there are characteristics in which
the Russian prince and peasant are the same.
They are all equally barbarous. Visit a Russian,
of whatever rank, at his country seat, and you
will find him lounging about, uncombed, un-
washed, unshaven, half-naked, eating raw tur-
nips, and drinking quass. The raw turnip is
handed about in slices, in the'first houses, upon
a silver salver, with brandy, as a whet before
dinner. The real Russian rises at an early hour,
and breakfasts on a dram with black bread.
His dinner, at noon, consists of the coarsest and
most greasy viands, the scorbutic effects of which
190
RUSSIA.
are counteracted by salted cucumbers, sour cab-
bage, the juice of his vaccinium, and his nectar
quass. Sleep, which renders him unmindful of
his abject servitude and barbarous life, he par-
ticularly indulges ; sleeping always after eating,
and going early to bed. The principal articles
of diet are the same every where, grease and
brandy.'
A uniform costume is seen in all parts of Rus-
sia, only differing in quality as it is worn in the
country or the capital. In the one it is a sheep-
skin tunic, fastened round the waist with a gir-
dle ; in the other of cloth, plaited behind like a
petticoat. The hair is cut in one shape, and the
lower part of the face is always hid by a beard.
The females retain much of Asiatic finery and
gaudy robes. They wear a saraphan, or vest
without sleeves, fitting close about the neck,
down to the hips, and reaching to the feet. A
row of close-set buttons usually adorns the front,
and it is girt round the waist with a sash, to
which the keys in common use are suspended.
In some parts the females wear their hair bound
up with a riband, or band, which crosses the
forehead, and which is often decorated with
pearls and beads of various colors : in others
they wear caps made in the form of an upright
crescent. - In the vicinity of Moscow, and in
some of the adjacent parts of the country, the
cap has a front resembling that worn by the
English jockey, studded with pearls or beads.
The houses of the peasants are all of rough logs
of. wood, and in villages these are uniformly
placed with their ends to the street. The walls
have their interstices stopped with moss. The
whole family sleep in the same room, reclining
on mats, straw, or sheep-skins, and in the clothes
they wear during the day. The favorite place at
night is on the edge of the stove, which is raised
above the floor with a few bricks.
A peculiar custom of Russia is the frequent
use of the warm bath, with which the meanest
hamlets are provided. The heat they sustain on
these occasions would be almost insupportable
to other people. It is usually from 100° to 130°
of Fahrenheit's thermometer; and the vapor is
renewed every five minutes, by water thrown on
hot stones. Such is the effect of habit on the
constitution of the Russians that they frequently
sally forth from these steam caldrons, and plunge
immediately into cold water, or roll in the snow ;
and male and female, old and young, not only
of the same family, but even of the same vil-
lage, all assemble in the bath together.
We must conclude this part of our paper
with a sketch of the mode of travelling peculiar
to Russia : we mean the extensive and skilful use
of sledges. Sometimes a body, like that of a
coach, is placed on a sledge, which unites the
advantage of repose with the convenience of
rapid motion. In this manner eighty or 100
miles a day are performed. And hence the
Russian prefers the winter for his long journeys.
In summer travelling is far more tedious and
fatiguing by the badness of the roads, which are
often composed of rough logs of wood, laid
transversely on beams. Of his passage over one
of the large rivers, Mr. James says, ' Nothing
could be more strikingly wild than our passage
over the Ypoote. A raft of trees loosely pinned
together was provided ; a rope, made from the
bark of trees, served for its draught ; on either
bank of the river rose a vast forest, not thick and
luxurious, but bared in many a line by the pro-
gress of age an(| decay ; amidst its shades were
seen the white shirts and black fur caps of the
Tartars, as they scampered along in the wanton-
ness of sport, with their horses at full speed;
their taravan, just arrived, was ranged on the
river side, and the oxen were seen, every now
and then, as the raft put off, plunging into the
stream, and swimming lo the opposite shore.'
SOUTHERN RUSSIA is largely inhabited by the
Cossacks, who present the singular anomaly of
a free people in the midst of abject slavery. As
free as a Cossack is a common proverb in Russia.
They have been acknowledged as a distinct race
for more than nine centuries ; and, according to
their different emitrrations and settlements, are
at present distinguished by the names of Malo-
Russian Cossacks, Don Cossacks, Cossacks of
the Black Sea, of the Volga, of Grebenskoy, of
Orenburg, of the Ural Alps, and of Siberia. The
subsequent remarks, chiefly confined to those
within the European part of the empire, are
principally derived from Dr. Clarke's Travels.
The ramifications of the Cossack republic, for
such it is, extend into various parts of a vast
despotic government, which considers it a mat-
ter of policy to guarantee their privileges,
do the Cossacks afford a greater contrast with
the Russians in their political existence than in
their personal appearance and individual cha-
racter. These people are thus contrasted by the
intelligent author above referred to, ana who
had excellent opportunities of witnessing the t\\<>
nations. In reference to the Cossacks of the
Don and the Black Sea, he says, 'The Rti-
regards both with aversion, and affects to consider
them beneath his notice, and unworthy of his
society, for no other assignable reason than igno-
rance or envy. The Cossack is rich, the 1
sian poor. The Cossack is high-minded, the
Russian abject. The Cossack is for the most
part clean in his person, honorable, valiant, often
well informed, and possesses, with his loftiness
of soul, a very noble stature; the Russian is
generally filthy, unprincipled, dastardly, always
ignorant, and rarely distinguished by any eleva-
tion of mind or body.' Many of those vast
steppes in the vicinity of the Don, which appear
as blanks in our best maps, are said to be filled
with Cossack abodes. Stanitzas, or settlements,
are formed along all the rivers by which they
are intersected ; and the late bishop Ileber
states that the procurator (who is a person ap-
pointed by the Russian government to superin-
tend the execution of the laws) affirmed to him
that the whole number of Cossacks liable to he
called upon for active service amounted to
200,000 men. The entire male population is rec-
koned at 500,000. 'There is something ex-
tremely martial, and even intimidating, in the first
appearance of a Cossack. Mis dignified and
majestic look ; his elevated brows and dark
mustachoes ; his tall helmet of black wool, ter-
minated by a crimson sash, with its plume, and
white cockade ; his upright posture ; the ease
RUSSIA.
191
and elegance of his gait; give him an air of
great importance. We found them in consi-
derable numbers at Kasankaia, lounging before
their houses, and conversing in such large parties
that it seemed as if we were entering their
capital. Their dresses were much richer than
any we had seen in Russia, although all were
uniform. Each person's habit consisted of a
blue jacket, edged with gold, and lined with silk,
fastened by hooks across the chest. Beneath the
jacket appeared a silk waistcoat, the lower part
of which was concealed by the sash. Large and
long trowsers, either of the same material as the
jacket, or of white dimity, kept remarkably clean,
were fastened high above the waist, and covered
the boots. The sabre is not worn, except on
horseback, on a journey, or in war. In its place
is substituted a switch, or a cane, with an ivory
head : this every Cossack bears in his hand, as
an appendage to his dress; being at all times
prepared to mount his horse at a moment's no-
tice. Their cap or helmet is the most beautiful
part of the costume, because it is becoming to
every set of features. It adds considerably to
their height, and gives, with the addition of whis-
kers, a military air to the most insignificant
figure. They wear their hair short round the
head, but not thin upon the crown. It is gene-
rally dark, thick, and quite straight. The cap
is covered by a very soft and shining black wool.
Some of them have civil and military distinc-
tions of ha'bit, wearing, in time of peace, instead
of the jacket, a large frock without buttons. The
sash is sometimes yellow, green, or red, though
generally black, and they wear large military
gloves. There is no nation in the world more
neat with regard to dress ; and, whether young
or old, it seems to become them all. A quiet
life seems altogether unsuited to their disposi-
tion. They loiter about, having no employment
to interest them ; and, passionately fond of war,
seem distressed by the indolence of peace. The
territory of the Cossacks, which is almost en-
tirely pasture land, is divided into stanitzas, or
cantons; for many stanitzas now contain more
than a single village. To each of these a certain
portion of land and fishery is allotted by govern-
ment, and an allowance of corn from Voronetz,
and northwards according to the returned num-~
ber of Cossacks. They are free from all taxes ;
even from those of salt and distilleries. The
distribution of the land to individuals in each sta-
nitza is settled by the inhabitants and their Ata-
man. This Ataman was chosen by the people,
and was both civil and military commander of
the place ; but he is now appointed by the crown,
and greatly diminished in power ; formerly the
Ataman himself marched at the head of his
stanitza : now he merely sends the required con-
tingent, which is put under officers named by
the crown. The allotment of land and fishery
which each Cossack possesses may be let out
by him to farm, and often is so. The Cossack,
in consequence of his allowance, may be called
upon to serve for any term not exceeding three
years, in any part of the world, mounted, armed,
and clothed, at his own expense, and making
good any deficiencies that may occur. Food,
hay, and camp equipage, are furnished by go-
vernment. Those who have served three years
are not liable, at least not usually called upon,
to serve abroad, except on particular emergencies.
They serve, however, in the cordon along the
Caucasus, and in the duties of the post and po-
lice. After twenty years they become free from
all service, except the home duties of police,
and assisting in the passage of corn barks over
the shallows of the Don. After twenty-five
years' service they are free entirely.'
The Cossacks and other inhabitants of Tcher-
chaskoy export fish, iron, kaviar, and a little
wine : their merchants going to war, like the
rest of their countrymen, and the greater num-
ber of their superior officers being merchants.
In the capital they live a pleasant and agreeable
life, and have often public amusements, as balls
and parties of pleasure.
The Cossacks are said to be favorably con-
trasted with the other inhabitants of Russia as to
cleanliness both in their persons and houses.
The dress of the females differs from all the other
costumes of Russia ; and its magnificence is dis-
played in the ornaments of the cap. The hair of
the married women is tucked under the cap,
which is adorned with flowers, or covered with
pearls and gold. The dress of the young \vomen
is elegant ; a silk tunic with trowsers fastened
with a girdle of solid silver, yellow boots, and
an Indian handkerchief round the head. ' The
common dress of men in Tcherchaskoy is a blue
jacket, with a waistcoat and trowsers of white
dimity ; the latter so white and spotless that
they seem always new. We never saw a Cos-
sack in a dirty suit of clothes. Their hands,
moreover, are always clean, their hair free from
vermin, their teeth white, and their skin has a
healthy and cleanly appearance. Polished in
their manners, instructed in their minds, hos-
pitable, generous, disinterested, humane, and
tender to the poor, good husbands, good fathers,
good wives, good mothers, virtuous daughters,
valiant and dutiful sons ; such are the natives of
Tcherchaskoy. In conversation the Cossack is a
gentleman ; for he is well informed, free from
prejudice, open, sincere, and honorable.'
The following account of the religious cere-
monies of this people is from Dr. Clarke : —
' The morning after our arrival (at Axay) the
general, who was commander-in-chief over all
the district, including the town of Tcherchaskoy,
the metropolis, came to Axay. The day was
celebrated as a festival, in honor of the recovery
of one of the emperor's children from the small
pox inoculation. He sent us an invitation to
dinner ; and in the forenoon we accompanied
him, with all the staff officers, to a public cere
mony in the church. On entering this building
we were much surprised at its internal magnifi-
cence. The screen of the altar was painted of a
green color, and adorned with gold : before it
was suspended a very large chandelier, filled
with tapers of green wax. The screen, like the
rest of the church, was covered with pictures :
some of these were tolerably well executed, and
all of them curious from their singularity and the
extraordinary figures they served to represent
Here were no seats as in other Russian churches
The general placed himself against a wall on the
192
RUSSIA.
right hand facing the sacristy, standing on a step
covered with a carpet, and raised about four
inches from the level of the floor. We were
directed to place ourselves by his right hand.
The other Cossacks, whether in military uniform
or national domestic habit, stood promiscuously
in the body of the church. The priest, in very
rich robes, with his back towards the people,
was elevated upon a kind of throne, placed be-
neath the chandelier, and raised three steps from
the platform, facing the great doors of the sa-
cristy : these were shut. Over them was a pic-
ture of the Virgin ; and before it, suspended
by a string, were two wooden angels, joine'd
b^ck to back, like the figures of Janus, with
candles in their hands. Whenever the doors of
the sacristy were thrown open, the wooden an-
gels were lowered before the centre of the en-
trance : here they whirled round and round in a
most ludicrous manner. As the ceremony began,
the priest, standing upon the throne, loosened a
girdle bound across his breast and shoulders,
whereon was an embroidered representation of
the cross. This he held between his forefinger
and thumb, repeating the service aloud, and
touching his forehead with it, while the people
sang responses, and were busied in crossing
themselves. The vocal part of the ceremony was
very solemn. The clear shrill notes of children
placed among the choristers, rising to the dome
of the church, and seeming to die away in the
air, had a most pleasing effect. It is the same
in all the Russian churches, and I know not any
tlung with which it can more justly be compared
than the sounds produced by an /Eolian harp.
The words they use are Russian, and every
where the same, ' Lord have mercy upon us !'
We did not find them altered even among the
Cossacks ; it was still ' Ghospodi pomilui !' but
thrilled
' In notes with many a winding bout
Of linked sweetness long drawn out.'
'At last there was an interval of silence, after
Jus, other voices, uttering solemn airs, were
heard within the sacristy. The doors were then
thrown open, and a priest, having upon his head
a silver chalice, containing the sacred bread,
covered with a white napkin, made his appear-
ance. He was preceded by others, who advanced
\vith censers, dispersing incense over the doors
of the sacristy, the pictures, the priest, the gene-
ral, the officers, and the people. After some
ceremonies, the bread was distributed among the
congregation ; then, those who came out of the
sacristy having retired, its doors were again
closed, and prayers were read for all the royal
family ; their names being enumerated in a tone
of voice and manner exactly like that of a cor-
poral or serjeant at a roll-call. Passages were
also read from the Psalms; but the method of
reading in all the Russian churches is beyond
description. The young priests who officiate
pride themselves upon mouthing it over with all
possible expedition, so as to be unintelligible,
eren to Russians ; striving to give to the whole
lesson the appearance of a single word of num-
berless syllables. Some notion may be formed
of their delivery, by (.earing the criers in our
courts of justice administer the oath to a jury.
HISTORY. — Russia was anciently inhabited by
various nations ; such as Huns, Scythians, Sar-
matians, Cimbri, &c., of whom an account is
given under the various detached articles. The
origin of the Russians themselves, though not
prior to the ninth century, is covered with almost
impenetrable obscurity ; partly owing to the
ignorance and barbarity of the people, and partly
to the policy which long prevailed among them
of discouraging all accounts of their origin, and
enquiries into their ancient state and situation;
of which we have a remarkable instance in the
modern suppression of a work by professor
Muller, entitled Ue Originibus Gentis et Nominis
Russorum. According to several authors of
credit, the Russians derived their origin from
the Slavi or Slavonians, corruptly called the
Sclavonians, who settled first along the banks of
the Volga, and afterwards near the Danube, in
Bulgaria and Hungary ; but, being driven thence
by the Romans (whom the Russians call Wolo-
chers, or Wolotaners), they first removed to the
banks of the Borysthenes or Dnieper, then over-
ran Poland, and built the city of Kiow. After-
wards they extended their colonies farther north,
to the rivers which run into the Ilmen Lake, and
laid the foundation of the city of Novogorod.
The towns of Smolensk and Tsernikow appear
also to have been built by them. The most an-
cient inhabitants, not only of Russia, but of all
Siberia to the borders of China, are called
Tshudi : for professor Muller, who, on enquiring
in those parts by whom the ancient buildings
and sepulchral monuments he saw there were
erected, was every where answered that they
were the works of a people of this name. In
the ninth century the Scandinavians, that is,
the Danes, Norwegians, and Swedes, emigrated
from the north, and, crossing the Baltic, went to
seek habitations in Russia. They first subdued
the Courlanders, Livonians, and Esthonians ;
and, extending their conquests still farther, ex-
acted tribute from the Novogorodians, settled
kings over them, and traded as far as Kiow, and
even to Greece. These new invaders were called
Waregers, which, according to Muller, signifies
seafaring people; or, if derived from the old
northern word war, it signifies warlike men.
To these Waregers the name of Russes, or Rus-
sians, is thought by the most eminent authors to
owe its origin ; but the etymology of the word
itself is uncertain. In these dark ages Russia
was divided among a great number of pctty
princes, who made war upon each other with
great ferocity and cruelty, so that the whole
country was reduced to the utmost misery ;
when Gostomisel, a chief of the Novogorodians,
pitying the unhappy fate of his countrymen,
and seeing no other method of remedying their
calamities, advised them to offer the government
of their country to the Waregers. The proposal
was readily accepted, and three princes of great
abilities and valor were sent to govern them ;
namely, Ruric, Sincus, and Truwor, said to have
been brothers. The first took up his residence
at Ladoga, in the principality of Great Novo-
. (.rod ; tin: srrond at Bielo Osero, or the Wliit<>
I ake ; and the third kept his court at Isborsk,
K/JW/tr
RUSSIA.
193
or, according to others, at a small town then
called Twertzog, in the principality of Pleskow.
The three brothers reigned amicably, and made
considerable additions to their dominions ; all of
which at length devolved on Ruric by the death
of Sincus and Truwor.
RUSSIA, UNDER THE RACE OF RURIC. RuHC
became zealous for the strict administration of
justice, and issued a command to all the boyars
who possessed territories under him to exercise
it in an exact and uniform manner. To this
end it was necessary there should be general
laws: and this leads us to conclude that letters
were, not entirely unknown in his dominions.
The Russian empire continued to flourish till
the end of the reign of Wolodomir, who as-
cended the throne in 976. Having settled the
affairs of his empire, he demanded in marriage
the princess Anne, sister to the Greek emperor
Basilius Porphyrogenitus. His suit was granted,
on condition that he should embrace Chris-
tianity. With this the Russian monarch com-
plied ; and that vast empire was thenceforward
considered as belonging to the patriarchate of
Constantinople. Wolodomir received <he name
of Basilius on the day on which he was baptised ;
and, according to the Russian annals, 20,000 of
his subjects were- baptised on the same day.
Michael Syra, or Cyrus, a Greek, sent by Pho-
tius the patriarch of Constantinople, was ac-
cepted as metropolitan of the whole country.
At the same time Wolodomir put away all his
former wives and concubines, of whom he had
upwards of 800, and by whom he had twelve
sons, who were baptised on the same day with
himself. The idols of paganism were now thrown
down, churches and monasteries were erected,
towns built, and the arts began to flourish. The
Sclavonian letters were now first introduced into
Russia; and Wolodomir sent missionaries to
convert the Bulgarians ; but only three or four
of their princes came to him and were baptised.
These events happened in the year 987. Wolo-
domir called the arts from Greece, cultivated
them in the peaceable periods of his reign, and
rewarded their professors with generosity, that
he might dispel the clouds of ignorance which
enveloped his country, call forth the genius of
his countrymen, and render them happy. He
also founded public schools, and enacted a law
concerning the method of instructing youth, and
directing the conduct of the masters appointed
to instruct them. He died in 1008, and, con-
trary to all rules of sound policy, divided his
empire among his twelve sons.
Wolodomir was no sooner dead than his sons
commenced a civil war. Suantepolk, one of
the brothers, having destroyed and seized upon
the dominions of two others, was himself driven
out by Jarislaus, and obliged to fly to Boleslaus
king of Poland. This brought on a dreadful
war betwixt the Poles and Russians, in which
the former were victorious, and the latter lost a
great part of their dominions, as related under
POLAND. Jarislaus, finding himself unable to
oppose the king of Poland, now turned his arms
against the rest of his brothers, all of whom he
dispossessed of their dominions, and seized
them for himself. He next attacked the Cos-
VOL. XIX.
sacks, over whom he gained several advantages :
after which he ventured once more to try his
fortune with Boleslaus : but in this second ex-
pedition he was attended with worse success
than before, being now reduced to the condition
of a vassal and tributary to the victorious mon-
arch. However, in the reign of Mieczislaus 11.
the successor of Boleslaus, the Russians again
shook off the yoke, and a lasting peace was con-
firmed by the marriage of Mieczislaus with the
sister of Wolodomir. Jarislaus now continued
to enjoy the empire quietly ; and devoted a great
part of his time, we are told, to study. He in-
vited men of letters to his court, and caused
many Greek books to be translated into the
Russian language. In 1019 he gave the people
of Novogorod several laws, under the title of
Gramota Soudebnaia, to be observed in the
courts of justice. These are the first laws that
are known to have been reduced to writing in
Russia ; and what renders them remarkable is
the conformity they have to those of the other
northern nations. He founded a public school
at Novogorod, where he maintained and edu-
cated 300 children at his own expense. His
court was the most brilliant of the north, and
furnished an asylum to unfortunate princes. He
died in 1052.
Jarislaus fell into the same error which his
father had committed, by dividing his domi-
nions among his five sons. This produced a
repetition of the bloody scenes which had been
acted by the sons of Wolodomir ; the Poles
took advantage of the distracted state of affairs
to make continual inroads and invasions ; and
the empire continued in the most deplorable
situation till 1237, when it was totally subdued
by the Tartars. Innumerable multitudes of
these barbarians headed by their khan Batto, after
ravaging great part of Poland and Silesia, broke
suddenly into Russia, where they committed the
greatest cruelties. Most of the Russian princes,
among whom was the great duke George Sevo-
loditz, were made prisoners, and racked to
death ; and, in short, none found mercy but such
as acknowledged themselves the subjects of the
Tartars. The imperious conqueror imposed
upon the Russians every thing that is most mor-
tifying in slavery ; insisting that they should
have no other princes than such as he approved
of; that they should pay him yearly a tribute,
to be brought by the sovereigns themselves on
foot, who were to present it numbly to the Tar-
tarian ambassador on horseback. They were
also to prostrate themselves before the haughty
Tartar ; to offer him milk to drink, and, if any
drops of it fell down, to lick them up : a sin-
gular mark of servility, which continued nearly
260 years.
George Sevoloditzwas succeeded by his brother
Michael Sevoloditz Zernigouski ; who opposed
the Tartars, but was defeated by them, and lost
his life. He left three sons, Theodore, Alex-
ander, and Andrew, whose wars with each other
ended in the death of them all. Alexander, a
son of Alexander, was then placed on the throne
by the Tartars ; and his son Daniel removed his
court from Wolodimir to Moscow, where he
first assumed the title of great duke of Wolo-
194
RUSSIA.
imir and Moscow. Daniel left two sens, Gre-
gory and John ; the former of whom, named
Kalita, from a purse he used always to carry
about him filled with money for the poor, as-
cended the throne ; but he was soon assassinated
by another prince named Demetrius, who \vus
himself put to death for it by the Tartars ; and
John, likewise surnamed Kalita, was then made
czar. This John left three sons, John, Simon,
and Andrew ; and the eldest of these, commonly
called Ivan Ivanovitz in the barbarous language
of Russia, i. e. John, the son of John, was made
czar, with the approbation of the Tartars, on
whom he was dependent. During these several
reigns, which occupied upwards of 100 years,
the miseries of a foreign yoke were aggravated
by all the calamities of intestine discord and
war ; whilst the knights of Livonia, or brothers
of the short sword, as they are sometimes called,
s kind of military order of religious, on one
side, and the Poles on the other, attacked Rus-
sia, and took several of its towns, and some
considerable countries. The Tartars and Rus-
sians, whose interests were in this the same,
often united to oppose their common enemies,
but were generally worsted. The Livonians took
Pleskow ; and the Poles made themselves mas-
ters of Black Russia, the Ukraine, Podolia, and
t lie city of Kiow. Casimir the Great, one of
their kings, carried his conquests still farther.
He claimed a part of Russia, in right of his
relation to Boleslaus duke of Halitz, who died
without issue, and took the duchies of Perze-
myslia, Halitz, and Luckow, and the districts of
Sanock, Lubackzow, and Trebowla; all which
countries he made a province of Poland. See
POLAND.
The newly conquered Russians were ill dis-
posed to brook the government of the Poles,
whose laws and customs were more contrary to
their own than those of the Tartars had been.
They joined the latter to rid themselves of the
yoke, and assembled an army numerous .enough
to overwhelm all Poland, but destitute of valor
and discipline. Casimir, undaunted by this
deluge of barbarians, presented himself at the
head of a few troops on the borders of the Vis-
tula, and obliged his enemies to retire. Deme-
trius, the son of John, who commanded in
Moscow, made frequent efforts to rid himself of
the galling yoke. He defeated in several battles
Ms.,, may, khan of the Tartars ; and, when con-
queror, refused to pay them any tribute, and as-
sumed the title of great duke of Muscovy. But
the oppressors of the north returned in greater
numbers than before ; and Demetrius, at length
overpowered, after a struggle of three years, pe-
rished with his whole army, which amounted to
240,000 men. His son, Basilius, revenged his
father's death. He attacked his enemies, drove
them out of his dominions, and conquered Bul-
garia. He made an alliance with the Poles,
whom he could not subdue ; and even ceded to
them a part of his country, on condition that
they shouiu help him to defend the rest against
any :iew irxarsions of the Tartars. But this
treaty was a weak barrier against ambition. The
Russians found new enemies in their allies, and
the Tartars soon returned. Basilius had a son
named Basilius, to whom the crown ought (o
have descended. But the father, suspecting his
legitimacy, left it to his own brother Gregory, a
man of a severe and tyrannical disposition, and
therefore hated by the people, who asserted the
son's right, and proclaimed him their sovereign.
The Tartars took cognizance of the dispute, and
determined it in favor of Basilius ; upon which
Gregory had recourse to arms, drove his nephew
from Moscow to the principality of Uglitz, and
usurped his throne. Upon the death of Gre-
gory, Basilius returned to Moscow ; but Andrew
and Demetrius, sons of the late usurper, laid
siege to that city, and obliged him to retire to
the monastery of Troitz, where they took him
prisoner, with his wife and son, and put out hi«=
eyes : hence the appellation of jemnoi, the blind.
The subjects of this unfortunate prince, incensed
at the cruel treatment he had received, forced
the perpetrators of it to fly to Novogorod, and
reinstated their lawful sovereign at Moscow,
where he died. In the midst of this general
confusion, John I., the son of Basilius, by his
invincible spirit and refined policy, became
both the conqueror and deliverer of his coun-
try, and laid the first foundation of its future
grandeur.
Observing with indignation the narrow limits
of his power at his accession to the throne, after
the death of his father, he began immediately to
revolve within himself the means of enlarging his
dominions. Marriage seemed to him one of the
best expedients he could begin with; and ac-
cordingly he demanded and obtained Maria,
sister of Michael duke of Twer, whom he soon
after deposed, under pretence of revenging the
injuries done to his father, and added this duchy
to his own territories of Moscow. Maria, by
whom he had a son named John, who died be-
fore him, did not live long ; and upon her death
he married Sophia, daughter of Thomas Palico-
logus, who had been driven from Constantinople,
and forced to take shelter at Rome, where the
pope portioned this princess, in hopes of pro-
curing thereby great advantage to the Romish
religion ; but his expectations were frustrated,
Sophia being obliged to conform to the Greek
church after her arrival in Russia. John doubt-
less hoped by this marriage to establish a claim
to the empire of the east, to which her father was
the next heir : and the Russians certainly owed
to this alliance their deliverance from the Tartar
yoke. Shocked at the servile homage exacted
by those proud victors, her husband going to
meet their ambassadors at some distance from
the city, and standing to hear what they had to
say, whilst they were at dinner, Sophia told him
that she was surprised to find that she had mar-
ried a servant to the Tartar. Nettled at this re-
proach, John feigned himself ill when the next
deputation from the Tartars arrived, and under
that pretence avoided a repetition of the stipulated
humiliating ceremonial. Another circumstance
equally displeasing to this princess was that the
Tartars had, by agreement, within the walls of
the palace at Moscow, houses, in which their
ministers resided ; to show their power, and at
the same time watch the actions of the great
duke. To get rid of these, a formal embassy
RUSSIA.
was sent to the Tartarian khan, to tell him, that
Sophia having been fave^d with a vision from
above, ordering her to build a temple in the
place where those houses stood, her mind could
not be at ease till she had fulfilled the divine
command ; and therefore his leave was desired
to pull them down, and give his people others.
The khan consented : the houses within the
kremlin were demolished ; and, no new ones
being built, the Tartar residents were obliged to
leave Moscow, their prince being prevented
from revenging this breach of promise, by a war
he was engaged in with the Poles. John taking
advantage of this circumstance, and having con-
siderably increased his forces, disclaimed all
subjection to the Tartars, attacked their do-
minions, and made himself master of Casan,
where he was solemnly crowned with the diadem
of that kingdom, which is still used for the coro-
nation of the Russian sovereigns. The province
of Perraia, with great part of Lapland and
Asiatic Bulgaria, soon submitted to him ; and
Great Novogorod was reduced by his generals
after a seven years' siege, and yielded him 300
cart loads of gold and silver, and other valuable
effects. Alexander Witold, waiwode of Lithuania,
was in possession of this rich place, from which
lie had exacted for some years an annual tribute
of 100,000 rubles, a prodigious sum for those
days in that country. When it was taken by
John Basiltowitz, he, to secure his conquest, put
it under the protection of the Poles, voluntarily
rendered himself their tributary for it, and ac-
cepted a governor from the hand of their king
Casimir III., a weak prince, from whom he had
nothing to fear. The Novogorodians continued
to enjoy all their privileges till about two years
after ; when John, ambitious of reigning without
control, entered their city with a numerous
retinue, under pretence of keeping to the Greek
faith, he being accused of an intention to em-
brace the Romish religion ; and, with the assist-
ance of the archbishop Theophilus, stripped them
of all their remaining riches. He then deposed
the treacherous prelate, and established over
Novogorod new magistrates, creatures of his own ;
thus destroying at once a noble city, which, had
its liberties been protected, and its trade en-
couraged, might have proved to him an inex-
haustible fund of wealth. All the north beheld
with terror and astonishment the rapid increase
of the victor's power : foreign nations courted
his alliance ; and the petty princes of Russia
submitted to him without resistance. The Poles,
however, complained loudly of this breach of
faith in regard to Novogorod, and threatened re-
venge ; upon which John, elated with his suc-
cesses, with the riches he had amassed, and the
weak condition of most of his neighbours, sent a
body of troops into Lithuania, and soon became
master of several of its towns. Casimir applied
for assistance to Matthias king of Hungary ; but
was answered that his own soldiers were quite
undisciplined ; that his auxiliaries had lately
mutinied for want of pay ; and that it was im-
possible for him to raise a new army out of the
neighbouring countries. The Polish monarch in
this distress was obliged to purchase of John a
cessation of arms for two years, during which the
Muscovite made new accessions to his dominions-
The dukes of Servia, whose territories were about
500 miles in extent, had long thought themselves
ill used by the Lithuanians on account of their
religion, which was that of the Greek church ;
and wanted to withdraw from this subjection to
Poland, and put themselves under the protection
of Russia. An accident afforded them the
wished for pretence. Their envoys, arriving at
Wilna, desired admittance to the king's presence;
which being refused one of them endeavoured to
force his way in ; but the porter shut the door
rudely against him, and in so doing broke one of
his fingers. The porter was immediately put to
death ; but the Servians, not satisfied, returned
home in great fury, and prevailed upon their coun-
trymen to submit to the Muscovites. Casimir
made several attempts to recal them, but to no
purpose. Matthias king of Hungary dying about
this time, two of his sons, Uladislaus, then king
of Bohemia, and John Albert, contended for his
vacant crown. Casimir wished to give it to the
latter, whom he assisted to the utmost of his
power ; and, though he was in great want of men
and money, he purchased a renewal of the truce
with the Russians, and thereby gave John time
to establish himself in his new acquisitions.
Casimir died in 1492, and was succeeded on the
throne of Poland by his son John Albert, who,
totally disregarding the Russians, involved him-
self unnecessarily in a war with the brave Stephen
duke of Moldavia; and, though he had at the
same time both the Tartars and Turks against
him, his propensity to pleasure rendered him so
indolent that he not only did not attempt to
molest John in any of his possessions, but con-
cluded a peace with him on terms very advan-
tageous to the latter ; and even entered into a
treaty, by which he stipulated not to assist the
Lithuanians, though they had chosen his brother
Alexander for their duke, in case the Russians
should attack them. Alexander, to parry the in-
conveniences of this agreement, and to guard
against the designs of his enemies, demanded in
marriage John's daughter, Helena, by his second
wife Sophia, and obtained her. The Lithuanians
then expected tranquillity; but the ambitious
czar, (for John had assumed that title since his
conquest of Casan,) soon found a pretence to
break with his new allies, by alleging that Polish
Russia, as far as the river Berezina, had belonged
to his ancestors, and therefore was his by right,
and that Alexander had engaged to build a Greek
church at Wilna for his Russian consort, which
instead of doing, he had endeavoured to force the
Polish Russians to become Roman Catholics. In
consequence of this plea, he sent into the terri-
tories of his son-in-law, by different ways, three
armies, which reduced several places, destroyed
the country about Smolensko, and* defeated the
Lithuanian field marshal Ostrosky near the river
Wredrasch, where he fell unawares into an am-
bush of the Russians. Alexander raised a new
army of Silesians, Bohemians, and Moravians;
but they came too late, the Russians having re-
tired with their plunder. Elated by their suc-
cess they invaded Livonia in 1502, with 130,000
men ; but Walter Von Plettenberg, grand-master
of the knights of the cross, with only 12, 000 men,
O 2
196
RUSSIA.
gave them a total overthrow; killing 10,000 of
them with little loss on his own side. John
dispirited by this defeat, and being engaged in a
•war with the Tartars, the Poles, and the city of
Pleskow, immediately despatched an embassy to
Plettenberg, and concluded a truce with him for
fifty years. At the same time he begged of that
general to send to Moscow, that he might see
him, one of the iron dragoons, as he called them,
who had performed wonders in the late engage-
ment. Von Plettenberg readily complied ;
and the czar rewarded the cuirassier's accom-
plishments with considerable honors and pre-
sents. Alexander had been elected king of
Poland upon the death of his brother John
Albert, in 1501, but the Poles refused to crown
his consort Helena, because she adhered to the
Greek religion. Provoked at this affront, and
probably still more stimulated by ambition, John
resolved again to try his fortune with them : and
accordingly ordered his son Demetrius to march
against Smolensko, and reduce that city. The
young prince did what he could, but the vigorous
resistance of the besieged, and the arrival of the
king of Poland with a numerous army, obliged
the Russians to raise the siege and return home ;
and the czar was glad to make a fresh truce with
the Poles for six years, upon the easy terms of
only returning the prisoners he had taken. Nei-
ther the czar nor Demetrius long survived this
event; for Sophia, who had gained an absolute
ascendant over her husband, and wanted to give
the sovereignty to her children, persuaded him to
set aside and imprison his grandson Demetrius,
the only child of the late John, whom he had
by his first wife Maria, and declare her eldest
son Gabriel his successor. The czar blindly
followed the iniquitous advice ; but shortly
after, finding his end approach, he sent for young
Demetrius, expressed great remorse for his bar-
barity, and on his death-bed declared him his
lawful successor. He died in November 1505,
after a reign of fifty-five years ; leaving be-
hind him an immense territory, chiefly of his own
acquiring.
The czar was no sooner dead than his son Ga-
briel, at the instigation of his mother Sophia, put
an end to the life of the young Demetrius, by
confining him in prison, where he perished with
hunger and cold ; after which Gabriel was
crowned by the name of Basilius, and took the
title of czar. On his accession he expected that
the Poles would be in confusion about the elec-
tion of a new sovereign ; but, being disappointed
by their unanimous election of Sigismund I.
(see POLAND), he sent an army into Lithuania,
and laid siege to Smolensko. It made a brave
resistance, till news arrived that the crown troops
of Poland were coming to their assistance, with
80,000 Crim Tartars ; on which the Russians re-
treated with precipitation, but were quickly fol-
lowed by the Poles, who reduced the czar to
submit to their own terms. Basilius remained
quiet for some time ; after which he, with a nu-
merous army, encamped near Pleskow, where the
Poles, presuming on the late treaty, received him
as a friend. But the Muscovite priests, of the
Greek church, preaching up that it would be ad-
vantageous to have a sovereign of their own IP-
ligion, brought them to such a height of enthusi-
asm that they murdered their magistrates, and
opened their gates to the czar, who made them
all slaves, banished them to different parts, and
filled the city with Muscovites, to secure his
conquest. Soon after he took Smolensko ; and
the Swedes, alarmed at his rapid progress, de-
sired a prolongation of the truce for sixty years
longer. The duchy of Lithuania was the great
object of Basilius; to accomplish which he or-
dered John Czeladin, a man enterprising even to
rashness, to march thither with 80,000 men. The
army of the Poles did not exceed 35,000 men,
but was commanded by a most experienced
general. The two armies met on the opposite
banks of the Dneiper, near Orsova, and the Poles
passed that river in sight of their enemies. The
Lithuanians began the aUack, but were repulsed
by the Russians, who, imprudently following
them, became at once exposed to the full fire of
the enemy's artillery. The Polish cavalry then
rushed in among them and made dreadful havoc.
Those who endeavoured to fly were drowned in
the Dneiper ; and the rest, including Czeiadin
himself, were made slaves. Basilius was at Smo-
lensko, when he received the news of this dread-
ful defeat ; on which he immediately fled to
Moscow where his danger increased daily. The
Crim Tartars ravaged his dominions, and the
emperor Maximilian, with whom he had been in
alliance, deserted him ; his troops were defeated
in Livonia, where he was obliged to submit to a
peace on dishonorable terms. In the mean time,
the king of Poland stirred up the Tartars to
invade Russia, while the Russian monarch en-
deavoured to excite them to an invasion of Poland .
These barbarians, equally treacherous to both
parties, first invaded and ravaged Podolia in Po-
land ; and then invaded Russia, defeated the
armies of the czar in 1521, and quickly made
themselves masters of Moscow. An army which
had been sent to oppose their progress was de-
feated near the Occa; and the czar's brother
Andrew, who commanded it, was the first who
fled. Basilius with great difficulty made his
way to Novogorod ; but so terrified that he hid
himself by the way under a haycock, to avoid a
party of the enemy. The Tartars, however, soon
obliged him to sign a writing, by which he
acknowledged himself their vassal, and promised
to pay them a tribute of so much a head for every
one of his subjects. Besides this, Machmet
Gerei, the commander of the Tartars, caused hi
own statue to be set up at Moscow, as a mark of
his sovereignty ; compelled Basilius to return to
his capital, to bring thither in person the first
payment of this tribute, and, as a token of his
submission, to prostrate himself before his statue.
Machmet Gerei then left Moscow, and returned
home with an immense booty, and upwards of
80,000 prisoners, who were made slaves, ;m-l
sold like cattle to the Turks. In his way back
he attempted to take the city of Rezan; but was
repulsed with considerable loss by John Kowen,
who commanded in that place for the Russians.
Here the Tartar general narrowly escaped with
his life, his coat being shot through with a mus-
kel hall; and the Mu-roviies pulled down his
p, and broke it t-> pieces as soon as the con-
RUSSIA.
197
querors had left them. Basilius died in 1533,
and was succeeded by his son John Basiliowitz
II., an infant of five years of age.
During the minority of John II. his two uncles
Andrew and George endeavoured to deprive
him of the crown; but their attempts were de-
feated by the activity of his guardians. The Poles
also commenced hostilities, but made little pro-
gress. John, as soon as he entered his nineteenth
year, showed a desire to rescue his subjects out
of that desperate state of ignorance and barba-
rism in which they had been hitherto immersed.
He sent a splendid embassy to the emperor
Charles V., who was then at Augsburg, to desire
the renewal of a treaty of friendship which had
been concluded with his father Maximilian, and
offering to enter into a league with him against
the Turks, as enemies to the Christian religion ;
for his farther information in which, particularly
in regard to the doctrine and ceremonies of the
Latin church, he requested that his ambassador
might be allowed to send from Germany to Rus-
sia proper priests to instruct him and his sub-
ects. With these he likewise desired to have
some wise and experienced statesmen, able to
civilize the wild people under his government;
and also, the better to help to polish them, he
requested that he would send mechanics and
artists of every kind ; in return for all which he
offered to furnish two tons of gold yearly, for
twenty years together, to be employed in the
war against the Turks. The emperor readily
agreed, and the Russian ambassador accordingly
engaged upwards of 300 German artists, to re-
pair to Lubec, and proceed thence to Livonia.
But the Lubeckers, who were very powerful at
that time, and aimed at nothing less than the en-
grossing of the whole commerce of the north,
stopped them, and represented strongly to the
emperor, in the name of all the merchants in Li-
vonia, the dangerous consequence of thus afford-
ing instructions to the Russians, who would soon
avail themselves of it to ruin their trade, and
distress the subjects of his imperial majesty.
The workmen and others intended for Russia
were easily prevailed upon to return home; and
the czar's ambassador was arrested upon his arri-
val at Lubec, and imprisoned there at the suit
of the Livonians : however he escaped soon
after ; and the czar, though provoked at the Lu-
beckers, was obliged to suspend his resentment.
His first enterprise was against the Tartars at
Casan, who had hitherto been such formidable
enemies. In this he was attended with success :
the whole territory was conquered in seven
years; but the capital, Casan, being well fortified
and bravely defended, made such resistance as
quite disheartened the besiegers. John, hearing
of this, hastened to them with considerable rein-
forcement, and exhorted them to push the siege
with redoubled vigor. But the greater part,
deaf to his remonstrances, proceeded to mutiny,
and fell upon their comrades who were for con-
tinuing the war. John, alarmed at this, rushed
in among the combatants, and with difficulty
'parted them ; but neither menaces nor entreaties,
nor even a promise of the whole plunder of the
city if they took it, could prevail on them to
continue the war. Their rage at last prompted
them to threaten the life of their sovereign, who
was obliged to make the best of his way to Mos-
cow ; and the mutineers instantly returned
thither. John, though justly incensed at this in-
solence, took a method of punishing it which
does honor to his humanity. Having selected a
guard of 2000 of his best troops, he ordered a
great feast, to which he invited his principal
nobles and officers, to each of whom, according
to the Russian custom, he gave very rich gar-
ments. The chief of the seditious were clothed
in black velvet ; and after the dinner was over
he made a speech to the whole company, setting
forth the behaviour of his troops before Casan,
their contempt of his commands, and their con-
spiracy against his life : to which he added that
he was doubly sorry to find the instigators of
such wickedness among those who were styled,
and who ought to be, his faithful counsellors ; and
that those who knew themselves to be guilty of
such atrocious wickedness could not do better
than voluntarily to submit themselves to his
mercy. Upon this most of them immediately
threw themselves at his feet, and implored his
pardon. Some of the most criminal were exe-
cuted, but the rest were only imprisoned. Im-
mediately after this John marched with a fresh
army to reinvest Casan, before the Tartars had
time to recover themselves. The besieged still
made an obstinate defence, and the Russians
again began to be dispirited; upon which the
czar ordered his pioneers to undermine the walls
of the citadel, a practice then unknown to the
Tartars. This work being completed, he directed
his priests to read a solemn mass to the whole
army, at the head of which he afterwards spent
some time in prayer, and then ordered fire to be
set to the powder, which acted so effectually that
great part of the foundation was immediately
blown up, and the Muscovites, rushing into the
city, slaughtered all before them ; while the as-
tonished Tartars, crowding out at the opposite
gate, crossed the Casanka, and fled into the
forests. Among the prisoners taken on this oc-
casion were Simeon king of Casan, with his
queen ; both of whom were sent to Moscow,
where they were treated with the utmost civility
and respect. Encouraged by this success^John
invaded the country of Astracan, the capital of
which he soon reduced ; after which he prepared
to revenge himself on the Livonians for their be-
haviour in stopping the German artists. John
Basiliowitz I. had concluded a truce with this
people for*fifty years ; which now being expired,
lodocus, archbishop of Dorpt and canon of Mun-
ster, sensible of the danger to which he was
exposed by the vicinity of the Russians, request-
ed the czar to give him a prolongation of the
truce. John offered him the alternative of a
truce for five y^ars, upon payment of one-fifth
of a ducat for e^ich person in Dorpt ; or for
twenty years, on condition that he and the Livo-
nians should rebuild all the Russian churches
which had been demolished in their territories,
and allow his subjects the free exercise of their
religion. lodocus evaded an answer, but at last
levied a considerable sum, and fled with it to
.Munster, where he resigned his prebend and
married. His successor, named Herman and
198
RUSSIA.
the deputies from Livonia, accepted of condi-
tions, and swore to observe them ; with this ad-
ditional clause, that the priests of the Romish
communion should be exempted from paying
tribute. But, while the Livonians swore to these
terms, they were at that very time in treaty with
Gustavus Vasa, king of Sweden, to join them
in attacking Russia. Gustavus complied with
their desires; upon which John invaded Fin-
land. Gustavus advanced against him with a
powerful army ; but, as neither the Poles nor Li-
vonians gave him any assistance, he was obliged
to conclude a treaty with the czar, and soon after
to evacuate the country. Finland was then
governed by William of Furstenberg, grand mas-
ter of the Livonian knights and the archbishop
of Riga; between whom a quarrel happened
about this time, which facilitated John's designs.
The archbishop, after attempting to set himself
above the grand master even in civil affairs, and
to persecute those who adhered to the conefesion
of Augsburg, chose for his coadjutor in the arch-
bishopric of Riga Christopher duke of Mecklen-
burg. From the abilities and haughty temper
of this lord the Livonian knights had reason to
fear the worst ; and the step was, besides, un-
precedented, and contrary to the established
laws. These discontents were heightened by
letters intercepted from the archbishop to his
brother Albert, duke of Prussia, inviting this
last to suppress the order of Livonian knights,
and to secularise their possessions ; so that an
open war broke out among the contending
parties, and the archbishop was seized and made
prisoner. He was, however, soon released,
through the mediation of the emperor of Ger-
many and other potentates, backed by the pow-
erful preparations of the Prussians to avenge his
cause ; but in the mean time, the strength of
their country being totally exhausted, the Livo-
nians were obliged, instead of preparing for war,
to sue to the czar for peace. John replied that
he did not believe their intentions to be sincere
while they kept 6000 Germans in pay ; and,
therefore, if they meant to treat of peace, they
must begin with dismissing these troops. The
Livonians did as they were ordered ; and in 1558
an army of 100,000 Russians entered the district
of Dorpt, and laid every thing waste with the
most shocking cruelty. After this they entered
the territories of Riga, where they behaved with
equal inhumanity; and, having at last satiated
themselves with blood and treasure, they retired
with an immense booty and a great number of
prisoners. The Livonians, now convinced of
their own folly in provoking the rage of the Rus-
sians, sent' ambassadors to sue for peace. These
offered the czar a present of 30,000 ducats, and
prevailed upon him to grant their nation a truce
for four months, during which they returned
home to get the money. But in this interval the
Livonian governor of the city of Nerva fired
some cannon against Ivanogorod or Russian
Nerva, on the opposite side of the river, and
killed several of the czar's subjects who were
quite unarmed. The Russians, out of regard to
the truce, did not attempt to make reprisals, but
immediately acquainted John with it ; which so
incensed the czar that, when the Livonian am-
idors arrived, he told them he looked upon
their nation to be a set of perjured wretches, who
had renounced all honesty ; that they might go
back with their money and proposals, and let
their countrymen know that his vengeance would
soon overtake them. The ambassadors were
scarcely arrived in Livonia when an army of
300,000 Russians entered the district of Nerva,
under Peter Sisegaledrii, who had been a famous
pirate in the Euxine Sea. He took Nerva in
nine days, and soon made himself master of
Dorpt, where he found immense treasures. Se-
veral other garrisons, terrified by the approach of
such numbers, quitted their posts; so that the
Russians became masters of a ^reat part of Livo-
nia almost without opposition. At last Gothard
Kettler, grand master of the knights of Livonia,
entreated Christian III. king of Denmark, to
take Ri?a, Revel, and the countries of Garnland,
Wirrland, and Esthonia, under his protection ;
but, from his advanced age, he declined the offer,
though he assisted them with money and powder,
of which they stood greatly in need. Having
then applied to the emperor of Germany and the
court of Sweden, Kettler put himself under the
protection of the Poles, who had hitherto been
such formidable enemies to the Russians. In the
mean time the latter pursued their conquests ;
took the city of Marienburg, laid waste the dis-
trict of Riga, destroyed Garnland, and penetrated
to the very gates of Revel. Felin, though pro-
vided with the best artillery in the whole coun-
try, became theirs by the treachery of its gar-
rison ; and William of Furstenberg, the old
grand master, was taken, and ended his days in
a prison at Moscow. The distracted situation
of the Livonian affairs now reduced the bishop
of Oesal to sell his bishopric to Ferdinand king
of Denmark, who exchanged it with his brother
Masrnus for a part of Holstein. The districts
of Revel and Esthonia put themselves under the
protection of Sweden ; and tire grand master,
finding himself deserted by all, suppressed the
order of which he was the chief, and accepted of
the duchy of Courland, which he held as a tief
of the crown of Poland. The czar saw with
pleasure the division of Livonia between the
Swedes and Poles, which, he rightly judged,
would produce quarrels between the two nations,
and thus give him the fairer opportunity of
seizing the whole. In 1564 the Swedes offered
him their assistance against the Poles ; but he,
judging himself strong enough without them, at-
tacked the Poles with his own forces, but was twice
defeated, which checked his farther operations
in Livonia. In 1569 he entered into a treaty of
commerce with England, captain Richard Chan-
cellor having recently discovered a passage to
Archangel in Russia, through the White Sea, by
which that empire could be supplied with foreign
goods, without the assistance of Poland or Livo-
nia. To the discoverers of this new passage John
granted many exclusive privileges ; and after the
death of queen Mary I. renewed the alliance
wit!) queen Elizabeth, which has been continued
without interruption evtr since. In the mean
time, however, a prodigious army of Turks and
Tartars entered Muscovy, with a design tosubduc
the whole country ; but Xerebrinov, the czar's
general, havinjj attacked them in a defile, put
them to flight with great shuchter. They then
RUSSIA.
199
retired towards the mouth of the Volga ; but,
being closely pursued by the Russians and Tar-
tars, they were again defeated, and forced to fly
towards Azof on the Black Sea, which they found
ruined by the blowing up of a powder magazine.
The Russians then attacked their ships there, took
some, and gunk the rest ; by which means almost
the whole army perished either with hunger or
sword. From this time the empire of Russia be-
came so formidable that none of the neighbour-
ing nations could expect to make a conquest of it.
The Poles and Swedes indeed continued to be
very formidable ; and, by the instigation of the
former, the Grim Tartars, in 1571, again in-
vaded the country with an army of 70,000 men.
The Russians, who might have prevented their
passing the Volga, retired before them till they
came within eighteen miles of Moscow, where
they were totally defeated. The czar no sooner
heard this news than he retired with his most
valuable effects to a well fortified cloister ; upon
which the Tartars entered the city, plundered it,
and set fire to several churches. A violent storm
of wind soon spread the flames all over the city,
which was totally burnt in six hours, though its
circumference was upwards of forty miles. The
fire likewise communicated itself to a powder
magazine at some distance from the city ; by
which accident upwards of fifty roods of the
city wall, with all the buildings upon it, were
destroyed ; and, according to the best historians,
upwards of 120,000 citizens were burnt or
buried in the ruins, besides women, children,
and foreigners. The castle, however, which was
strongly fortified, could not be taken ; and the
Tartars hearing that a formidable army was com-
ing against them under John Magnus, duke of
Holstein, whom John had made king of Livonia,
thought proper to retire. The war, nevertheless,
continued with the Poles and Swedes ; and the
czar, being defeated by the latter after some
trifling success, was reduced to the necessity of
suing for peace. But, the negociations being
somehow or other broken off, the war was re-
newed with vigor. The Livonians, Poles, and
Swedes, having united against the Russians,
gained great advantages over them ; and in
1579 Stephen Battori, then king of Poland,
levied an army to invade Russia, and regain all
that Poland had formerly claimed, which indeed
was little less than the whole empire. As the
Poles understood the art of war much better
than the Russians, John found his undisciplined
multitudes unable to cope with the regular forces
of his enemies ; and their conquests were so
rapid that he was soon obliged to sue for peace,
which, however, was not granted : and the num-
ber of enemies which now attacked Russia
might probably have conquered it entirely, had
not the allies grown jealous of each other. The
consequence was that, in 1582, a peace was
concluded with the Poles, in which the Swedes
were not comprehended. However the Swedes,
finding themselves unable to effect any thing of
moment after the desertion of their allies, con-
cluded a truce ; after which the czar, having been
worsted in an engagement with the Tartars, died
*n 1548. This great prince was succeeded by
his son Theodore; a man of such weak under-
standing that he was totally unfit for government.
Under him, therefore, the Russian affairs fell into
confusion; and Boris Gndenov, a nobleman
whose sister Theodore had married, assumed all
the authority. At last he resolved to usurp the
throne. For this purpose he caused the czar's
brother Demetrius, who was only nine years of
age, to be assassinated, and afterwards caused
the czar also to be murdered. In 1597 the czar
himself was taken ill and died, being poisoned
by Gudenov ; of which indeed the czarina was
so well convinced that she would never after-
wards speak to her brother. With Theodore
ended the line of Ruric, who had governed the
empire of Russia for above 700 years.
II. RUSSIA, TILL THE ELECTION OF THEODORE
III OF THE HOUSE OF ROMANO V. — Boris, who in
reality was possessed of all the power, and would
indeed have suffered nobody else to reign, art-
fully pretended to be unwilling to accept the
crown, till compelled to it by the intreaties of the
people ; and even then he put the acceptance of it
on the issue of an expedition which he was about
to undertake against the Tartars. The truth of
the matter, however, was, that no Tartar army
was in the field, nor had Boris any intention of
invading that country ; but by this pretence he
assembled an army of 500,000 men, which he
thought the most effectual method of securing
himself in his new dignity. Boris, in 1600, con-
cluded a peace with the Poles, but resolved to
continue the war against the Swedes ; however,
being disappointed in some of his attempts
against that nation, he entered into an alliance
with the Swedish monarch, and even proposed a
match between the king's brother and his
daughter. But, while these things were in agita-
tion, the city of Moscow was desolated by one
of the most dreadful famines recorded in history.
Thousands of people lay in the streets and high-
ways, with their mouths full of hay, straw, or
even the most filthy things, which they had been
attempting to eat. In many houses the fattest
person was killed, in order to serve for food to the
rest. Parents were said to have eaten their chil-
dren, and children their parents, or to have sold
them to buy bread. One author, Petrius, says
that he himself saw a woman bite several pieces
out of a child's arm as she was carrying it along :
and Margaret relates tha£ four women, having
ordered a peasant to come to one of their houses,
under pretence of paying him for some wood,
killed and ate both him and his horse. This
dreadful calamity lasted three years, notwith-
standing all the means which Boris could use to
alleviate it ; and in this time upwards of 500,000
people perished in the city. In 1604 a young man
appeared, who pretended to be Demetrius, whom
Boris had caused to be murdered. Being sup-
ported by the Poles, he proved very troublesome
to Boris all his lifetime; and after his death de-
prived his son Theodore II., the new czar, of the
empire ; after which he ascended the throne him-
self, and married a Polish princess. However he
held the empire but a short time, being killed in
an insurrection of his subjects ; and the unhappy
czarina was sent prisoner to Jaroslaw. After the
death of Demetrius, Zuski, who had conspired
against him, was chosen czar ; but rebellions
200
RUSSIA.
continually taking place, and the empire being
perpetually harassed by the Poles and Swedes, in
1610 Zuski was deposed, and Uladislaus son of
Sigismund king of Poland was elected. However,
the Poles representing to Sigismund that it would
be more glorious for him to be the conqueror of
Russia than only the father of its sovereign, he
carried on the war with such fury that the Rus-
sians in despair fell upon the Poles, who resided
in great numbers at Moscow. The Poles being
well armed, and mostly soldiers, had greatly the
advantage; however, they were on the point of
being oppressed by numbers, when they fell upon
the most cruel method of insuring their success
that could be devised. This was by setting fire to
the city in several places ; and, while the distressed
Russians ran to save their families, the Poles fell
upon them sword in hand. In this confusion up-
wards of 100,000 people perished ; but the event
was that the Poles were finally driven out, and
lost all footing in Russia. The expulsion of the
Poles was succeeded by the election of Theodore
Romanov, a young nobleman of seventeen years
of age, whose posterity still continue to enjoy the
sovereignty. He died in 1646, and was succeeded
by his son Alexis.
III. RUSSIA UNDER THE HOUSE OF ROMANOV.
—The reign of Alexis was almost one continued
scene of tumult and confusion, the empire being
harassed on all sides by external enemies, and
perpetually disturbed by internal commotions.
The sources of these commotions arose from the
multiplicity and inconsistency of the laws, and the
jarring claims of the border nobles. An eman-
noy ukase, or personal order of the sovereign,
signed with his own hand, is to this day the law
of Russia. These edicts are as various as the
opinions, prejudices, passions, or whims of men ;
and in the days of Alexis they produced endless
contentions. To remedy this evil, he made a se-
lection from all the edicts of his predecessors, of
such as had been familiarly current for 100
years ; presuming that those either were founded
in natural justice, or during so long a currency
had formed the minds of the people to consider
them as just. This digest, which he declared to
be the common law of Russia, and which is
prefaced by a sori of institute, is the standard
law book at this day, known by the title of the
Ulogenie or Selectior. ; and all edicts prior to it
were declared to be obsolete. He soon made his
Novellie, however, more bulky than the Ulo-
genie ; and the additions by his successors are
beyond enumeration. This was undoubtedly a
great and useful work ; but Alexis performed
another still greater. Though there are many
courts of judicature, in this widely extended em-
pire, the emperor has always been lord para-
mount, and could take a cause from any court
immediately before himself. But as several of the
old nobles had the remains of principalities in
their families, and held their own courts, the so-
vereign or his ministers, at a distance up the
country, frequently found it difficult to bring a
culprit out of one of these hereditary feudal ju-
risdictions, and try him by the laws of the em-
pire. This was a very disagreeable limitation of
imperial power ; and the more so, that some
families claimed even a right to repledge. A
lucky opportunity offered of settling this dispute;
and Alexis embraced it with great ability. Some
families on the old frontiers were taxed with their
defence, for which they were obliged to keep
regiments on foot; and, as they were but scantily
indemnified by the state, it sometimes required
the exertion of authority to make them keep up
their levies. When the frontiers, by the conquest
of Casan, were far extended, those gentlemen
found the regiments no longer burdensome, be-
cause, by the help of false musters, the former
scanty allowance much more than reimbursed
them for the expense of the establishment. The
consequence was that disputes arose among them
about the right of guarding certain districts, and
law-suits were necessary to settle their respective
claims. These were tedious and intricate. One
claimant showed the order of the court, issued a
century or two back to his ancestor, for the
marching of his men, as a proof that the right was
then in his family. His opponent proved that his
ancestors had been the real lords of the marches ;
but that, on account of their negligence, the court
had issued an emannoy ukase to the other, only at
that particular period. The emperor ordered all
the family archives to be brought to Moscow, and
all documents on both sides to be collected. A
time was set for the examination ; a fine wooden
court-house was built ; every paper was lodged
under a good guard ; the day was appointed
when the court should he opened and the claims
heard ; but that morning the house, with all its
contents, was in two hours consumed by fire.
The emperor then said, ' Gentlemen, hence-
forward your ranks, your privileges, and your
courts, are the nation's, and the nation will guard
itself. Your archives are unfortunately lost, but
those of the nation remain. I am the keeper, and
it is my duty to administer justice for all and to
all. Your ranks are not private, but national,
attached to the services you are actually perform-
ing. Henceforward colonel Buturlin (a private
gentleman) ranks before captain Viazemsky (an
old prince).' This constitution, which established
the different ranks of Russia, as they remain to
this day, is by Voltaire ascribed to Peter ; but it
was the work of Alexis, who, when the situation
of himself and his country is considered, must be
allowed to have been a great and a good man.
He died in 1676.
Alexis was succeeded by his son Theodore
IV., who after an excellent reign, during the
whole of which he exerted himself to the utmost
for the good of his subjects, died in 1682, having
appointed his brother Peter I., commonly called
the Great, his successor. See PETEII I. Theo-
dore had another brother named John ; but, as
he was subject to the falling sickness, the czar
had preferred Peter, though very young, to the
succtssion. But through the intrigues of the
princess Sophia, sister to Theodore, a strong
ptity was formed in favor of John; and soon
after both John and Peter were proclaimed sove-
reigns of Russia under the administration or
Sophia, who was declared regent. But the
princess regent conspired against Peter, and,
being discovered, was confined for life in aeon-
vent. From this time also John continued to be
only a nominal sovereign till hi-* dca'lt, which
RUSSIA.
201
happened in 1696, Peter continuing to engross
all the power. To this emperor Russia has long
ascribed the whole of her present greatness. The
private character of Peter, however, seems to
have been very indifferent. Though he had
been married in his eighteenth year to a young
and beautiful princess, he was not restrained by
the vows of wedlock; and was besides so much
addicted to the pleasures of the table, the prevail-
ing vice of his country, that nobody could have
imagined him capable of effecting the reforma-
tion which he accomplished. In spite of all
disadvantages, however, he applied himself to
«.he military art and to civil government. He
had also a very singular dread of water, which,
had it not been conquered, would have rendered
him for ever incapable of accomplishing what he
afterwards did. Whfn he was about five years
of age, his mother went with him in a coach in
the spring season ; and passing over a dam where
there was a considerable water-fall, whilst he lay
asleep in her lap, he was so suddenly awaked
and frightened by the rushing of the water, that
it brought a fever upon him ; and after his reco-
very he retained such a dread of that element
that he could not bear to see any standing water,
much less to hear a running stream. This aver-
sion, however, he conquered by jumping into
water ; and afterwards became fond of that ele-
ment. Being ashamed of the ignorance in
which he had been brought up, he learned al-
most of himself, and without a master, enough of
tlie High and Low Dutch languages to speak
and write intelligibly in both. He looked upon
the Germans and Dutch as the most civilised
nations ; because the former had already erected
some of those arts and manufactures in Moscow
which he was desirous of spreading throughout
his empire, and the latter excelled in navigation.
During the administration of the princess Sophia,
he had formed a design of establishing a mari-
time power in Russia; which he accomplished
by the means recorded in our memoir of him.
Ravine reformed his army, and introduced new
discipline, he led his troops against the Turks ;
from whom, in 1696, he took the fortress of
Azof; and had the satisfaction to see his fleet
defeat that of the enemy. On his return to Mos-
cow were struck the first medals which had ever
appeared in Russia. The legend was, ' PETER
I'HE FIRST, the august emperor of Russia.' On
the reverse was AZOF, with these words ' Victori-
ous byfre and water.' Notwithstanding this suc-
cess, however, Peter was much chagrined at
having his ships all built by foreigners ; having
besides as great an inclination to have a harbour
on the Baltic as on the Euxine. These consi-
derations determined him to send some of the
young nobility of his empire into foreign countries,
where they might improve. In 1697 he sent
sixty young Russians into Italy, most of them
to Venice, and the rest to Leghorn, to learn the
method of constructing their galleys. Forty
more were sent to Holland, to be instructed in
building and working large ships; others to Ger-
many, to serve in the land forces, and to learn
military discipline. At last he resolved to travel
through different countries in person, that he
might have the opportunity of profiting by hi?
own observation and experience. Of this jour-
ney we have given a short account in our me-
moir of him; and shall only add that, in execut-
ing his great design, he lived and worked like a
common carpenter. He labored hard at the
forges, rope-yards, and mills for sawing timber,
manufacturing of paper, wire-drawing, &c. In
acquiring the art of a carpenter he began with
purchasing a boat, to which he made a mast
himself, and by degrees executed every part of
the construction of a ship. Peter went also from
Sweden to Amsterdam, to attend the lectures of
the celebrated Ruysch on anatomy. He likewise
attended the lectures of burgo-master Witsen on
natural philosophy. From this place he went to
Utrecht, to visit king William III. of England ;
and on his return sent to Archangel a sixty gun
ship, in the building of which he had assisted
with his own hands. In 1698 he went to Eng-
land, where he employed himself as he had done
in Holland, and perfected himself in the art of
ship-building; and, having engaged a great
number of artificers, returned with them to Hol-
land : whence he set out for Vienna, where he
visited the emperor ; and was on the point of
setting out for Venice, to finish his improvements,
when he was informed of a rebellion having
broken out in his dominions. This was occasion-
ed by the superstition and obstinacy of the Rus-
sians, who, having an almost invincible attach-
ment to their old ignorance and barbarism, had
resolved to dethrone the czar on account of his
innovations. But Peter, arriving unexpectedly
at Moscow, quickly put an end to their machina-
tions, and took a most severe revenge on those
who had been guilty. Having then made great
reformations in every part of the empire, in
1700 he entered into a league with the kings of
Denmark and Poland against Charles XII. of
Sweden. The particulars of this famous war are
related under SWEDEN. Here we shall only ob-
serve that, from the conclusion of this war,
Sweden ceased not only to be a formidable
enemy to Russia, but even lost its political con-
sequence in a great measure altogether. Peter
applied himself to the cultivation of commerce,
arts, and sciences, with equal assiduity as to war;
and he made such acquisition of dominion, even
in Europe itself, that he may be said, at the time
of his death, to have been the most powerful
prince of his age. He was unfortunate in the
Czarovitz his eldest son, whom he contrived to
get rid of by the forms of justice, and then or-
dered his wife Catharine to be crowned with
the same magnificent ceremonies as if she had
been a Greek empress, and to be recognised as
his successor ; which she accordingly was, and
mounted the Russian throne upon the decease of
her husband.
Catharine I. succeeded her husband in 1725,
and carried into execution many of the great de-
signs which he had left unfinished. See CATHA-
RINE. She died after a short but glorious reign,
in 1727, and was succeeded by Peter II. a mi-
nor, son to the Czarovitz Alexis. Many domes-
tic revolutions happened in Russia during the
short reign of this prince ; but none was more
remarkable than the disgrace and exile of prince
Menzikoff, the favorite general in the two late
204
RUSSIA.
New Code of Laws, &c., and is a very respecta-
ble work, which does honor to the empress, by
whom it was undoubtedly composed, if she had
seriously intended to put it in execution. But
the most consequential of the deputies were
privately instructed to be very cautious, and in-
formed that carriages and guards were ready for
Siberia. There was a grand procession at their
presentation. Each had the honor of kissing
her majesty's hand and receiving a gold medal.
They met in form to recognise one another, then
parted, and have never met since. The New
Code melted away without notice; and the
princess Dashkoff was handsomely given to un-
derstand that her counsels were no longer ne-
cessary, and that she could not do better than
take the amusement of the tour of Europe. She
was liberally supplied, visited London, Edin-
burgh, and most other capitals in Europe ; ac-
companied by one of the young princes, said to
have been Paul, afterwards emperor; and was
treated with great kindness, but kept amused with
something very different from legislation. Jn
the mean time, many patriotic things were really
done. Taxes were frequently remitted where
they were burdensome. Every person was de-
clared free who had served government without
pay for two years. No man was allowed to send
boors from his cultivated estates to his mines in
Siberia, nor to any distant estates, but for the
purposes of agriculture. Many colonies of
German peasants were in various places settled
on the crown-lands, to teach the natives the
management of the dairy : a branch of rural
economy of*which the Russians were till that
period so completely ignorant that there is not
in their language an appropriated word for butter,
or cheese, or even for cream. The Russians hoped
to be likewise instructed in agriculture ; but the
colonists were poor and ignorant ; and this part
of the project came to nothing, like the great
national schools. Other improvements, however,
took place in favor of commerce ; for all bar-
riers were removed, and goods suffered to pass
through the empire duty-free. The empress
with great liberality encouraged the introduction
of arts and manufactures. An academy was in-
stituted of sculpture, painting, architecture, &c.,
a magnificent and elegant building was erected
for it, and many ele"ves supported in it at the
expense of the crown. Several very promising
youths have been educated in that academy ;
but as the Russians are childishly fond of finery,
and cannot be persuaded that any thing fine was
ever done by their own countrymen, the students
are all, on leaving the academy, suffered to starve.
The empress, who had a very just taste in architec-
ture, designed several buildings equally useful and
ornamental to her capital (see NEVA and PE-
TERSBURG): and, while she thus diligently cul-
tivated the arts of peace, she did not neglect
those of war. She put her fleets on the most
respectable footing, and procured a number of
British officers to instruct her seamen in the
science of naval tactics. By land, her suc-
cesses against the Turks, the Swedes, and the
Poles (see POLAND, SWEDEN, and TURKEY),
compel us to believe that her troops were better
disciplined, and her generals more skilful, than
any whom the greatest of her predecessors could
bring into the field; and the empire of Russia,
though the people are but just emerging from a
state of barbarism, is at this day one of the most
powerful in Europe. But the glory of Catha-
rine's reign is stained by injustice and cruelty.
More horrible massacres than those of Ismail
and Prague, by her general Suwarrow, were not
committed by the most savage troops in the most
barbarous ages. Of her character, both public and
private, we have given a general sketch under the
article CATHARINE II. About fifteen different
princes and courtiers successively gratified her
desires. Among these were Alexis and Gregory
Orloffs, brothers ; prince Potemkin ; prince Laus-
koi ; the two Zubows, brothers ; Vassiltchikoff, a
lieutenant of the guards; count Panin; and seve-
ral others. The first of her lovers was Stanislaus
Augustus, count Poniatowski, with whom she had
formed a connexion even in her husband's life
time ; and whom she afterwards rewarded with
the kingdom of Poland, for it was by her in-
fluence, and the presence of her troops, that the
election was over-awed in his favor, on the 7th
of September 1764 ; though she afterwards de-
prived him of his crown and dominions, when
she found him no longer pliable, but willing to
give the Poles a free constitutution. While she
was thus disposing of foreign kingdoms, she was
under continual dread of beinsf thrown, by some
sudden plot or revolution, from the throne she
had usurped. To prevent this, she hesitated at no
new crimes. She procured the private assassi-
nation of prince John, whom her husband
Peter HI. had generously liberated from prison.
She also, by the most treacherous means, wherein
prince Alexis Orloff was her villanous agent,
shut up the princess Tarrakanoff, a daughter of
the empress Elizabeth, by Alexis Razumoffsky
(who had been privately married to her), in a
fortress, where she was never more heard of.
Such were the means she used to get rid of all
who had any claim to the throne. Yet, with
all her crimes and vices, it must be allowed that
she did more to civilize her barbarous subjects
than even Peter the Great. In Petersburg
alone she founded thirty-one seminaries, where-
in 6800 children of both sexes were educated
at the annual expense of 754,335 rubles. She
superintended the education of her own grand-
children, and even wrote books for their instruc-
tion ; while jealousy led her to keep their father,
her own son Paul, at a distance from court and
from all opportunity of improvement. But her
greatest effort for the improvement of science
was in 1767, when she employed the celebrated
Drs. Pallas, Gmelin, Euler, and several other
men very eminent in the republic of letters, to
travel through her vast dominions, to determine
the geography of her extensive territories, the
position of the chief towns, their temperature,
soil, and productions ; and the manners of the
inhabitants, &c. This survey of her empire must
immortalise her name in science, when her
crimes are forgotten. In the coalition against the
French republic Catharine promised much, hut
did nothing, except granting refuge to French
emigrants, and sending a squadron of crazy ship*
to co-operate with the British navy, which were
RUS
obliged to be repaired at the expense of the
British government. This extraordinary woman
was meditating a new war with the Turks, when
she was suddenly seized on the morning of No-
vember 9th, 1796, with a fit of apoplexy, which
put an end to her life at 10 o'clock in the evening
of the 10th, in the sixty- eighth year of her age.
And she certainly died with the character of one
of the greatest sovereigns that ever swayed the
sceptre in Russia.
Catharine II. was succeeded in the empire of
all the Russias by her son Paul, whose reign
was short, and his end, like that of his father,
unfortunate. Paul, though his education, from
his mother's jealousy, had been very much neg-
lected, seemed not to want spirit for great exer-
tions. He took an active and zealous part with
the combined powers in the operations against
the French republicans ; and, by the exertions
of his troops under Suwarrow, the French
power in Italy was for some time totally over-
thrown. They also made some exertions in Hol-
land to assist the British troops, but with less
success. But all Suwarrow 's exertions were un-
rewarded by Paul ; who, adopting a new system
of politics, and showing an evident inclination
to favor the French republicans, disgraced instead
of recompensing the old general. But, while
Paul was meditating farther exertions in favor of
his new allies, the French republicans, he was
murdered on the 23d March, 1801. The parti-
culars of this transaction have been so variously
related that we forbear to state any of them. The
causes of the murder have been also so variously
assigned that we shall likewise leave the investi-
gation of them to future historians. But it is per-
RCJS
haps an instructive exhibition of the nature o\
all arbitrary governments that, where the lives ol
the subjects are all at the mercy of the sovereign,
the life of the sovereign should be at all times
at the mercy of assassins. Of the character of
Paul we shall only say that he appears to have
been a well meaning man, but too fond of that
arbitrary power to which he thought himself en-
titled by his birth, and of consequence rash and
precipitate in his measures. See PAUL.
Paul was succeeded by his eldest son, Alex-
ander ; who, whether he was previously acquaint-
ed with the plot or not, appears to have made
little enquiry after his father's murderers. For
some time after his accession to the throne he
appears to have profited considerably by his
grandmother's instructions, and those of the pre-
ceptors she placed over him. lie encouraaed
learning, the sciences, commerce, and manufac-
tures, for the benefit of his subjects and empire.
After several energetic but unsuccessful struggles
against France, he became the humble friend of
Buonaparte. See his life in detail in our article
ALEXANDER OF RUSSIA. At the death of Alex-
ander, through the intrigues of the empress mo-
ther, Constantine the elder brother was set aside,
or compelled to abdicate the throne in favor of the
reigning emperor Nicholas : he has already dis-
tinguished himself by a successful war against
Turkey, in which he at last compelled the Porte
to sue for peace upon humiliating conditions. In
1831 he engaged in a struggle with the Poles, in
which he lost many thousand men, besides his
general field-marshal Count Diebitsch Sabalkan-
ski, but succeeded in crushing their liberties and
reducing Poland to the form of a province.
RUST, n. s ,v.n., & v. a, ) Sax. riuj-t; Dan.
RUSTY, adj. J rust ; Sard. rost.
Is the oxide of a metal, and is composed of
oxygen combined with a metal : to gather
rust or make rusty ; the adjective correspond-
ing.
H,er fallow leas,
The darnel, hemlock, and rank fumitory
Doth root upon, while that the culler rusts,
That should deracinate such savagery. Shakspeare.
Keep up your bright swords, for the dew will rust
them. Id. Othello.
Hector, in his dull and long continued truce,
Is rutty grown. Id. Troilus and Cressida.
Let her see thy sacred truths cleared from all rust
and dross of human mixtures. King Charles.
Rust eaten pikes and swords in time to come,
When crooked ploughs dig up earth's fertile womb,
The husbandman shall oft discover. May's Virgil.
Gold is the best metal ; and, for purity, not sub-
ject to rust as all others : and yet the best gojd has
some dross. Bp. Hall.
After a long calm of peace, he was left engaged
in a war with a rusty sword and empty purse.
Hovel.
But Pallas came in shape of rusf,
And 'twixt the spring and hammer thrust
Her Gorgon shield, which made the cock
Stand stiff, as 'twere transformed to stock.
Hudibras.
By dint of sword his crown he shall increase,
And scour his armour from the rust of peace.
J)ryden .
Must I rust in Egypt never more
Appear in arms, and be the chief of Greece ? Id.
Part scour the rusty shields with seam, and part
New grind the blunted axe. Id. j£neis.
My scymitar got some rust by the sea water.
Gulliver.
RUST is the oxide of any metal, procured by
corroding and dissolving its superficial parts by
some menstruum. Water is the great agent in
producing rust ; and hence oils and other fatty
bodies secure metals from rust,; water being no
menstruum for oil, and therefore not able to
make its way through it. All metals except
gold are liable to rust ; and even this also if ex-
posed to the fumes of sea-salt. Iron, for instance,
when exposed to the air, soon becomes tarnished,
and gradually changed into a brownish-red or
yellow powder, well known by the name of rust.
This change is occasioned by the gradual combi-
nation of the iron with the oxygen of the atmos-
phere, and is therefore an oxide of iron. The
cutlers in Sheffield, when they have given knife
or razor blades the requisite degree of polish,
rub them with powdered quicklime, in order
to prevent them from tarnishing ; and we have
been informed that articles made of polished
steel are dipped in lime-water by the manu-
facturer, before they are sent into the retail
market. Another method is that of varnish-
ing over the metal with a composition of two
parts oil varnish, mixed with one part rectified
RUS
206
RUT
sjiiiits of turpentine. This varnish must be
lightly and evenly applied with a sponge; after
uhich the article is to be left to dry in some
situation not exposed to dust. Articles thus
varnished retain their metallic lustre, and do not
contract any spots of rust. This varnish may
be employed with particular advantage to pre-
serve philosophical instruments from any change,
in experiments where, by being placed in con-
tact with water, they are liable to lose that
polish and precision of form, which consti-
tute part of their value. Plumbago, or black
lead, also protects iron from rust for a time, and
is on that account used on the fronts of grates,
&c.
RUSTIC, adj. & n. s. ~) Lat. rusticus.
RUST'JCAL, | Rural ; country ;
RUST'ICALLY, I rude ; untaught ;
RUST'ICALNESS, [plain: a rustic is a
RUST'ICATE, v. n. & v. a. \ clown, a country-
RCSTIC'ITY. J man : the adverb
and noun-substantive corresponding : to rusticate
is to reside in or banish into the country.
By Lelius willing missing was the odds of the Ibe-
rian side, and continued so in the next by the ex-
cellent running of a knight, though fostered by the
muses, as many times the very rustick people left
both their delights and profits to hearken to his songs.
Sidney.
There presented himself a tall, clownish, young
man, who, falling before the queen of the fairies, de-
sired that he might have the achievement of any
adventure, which, during the feast, might happen ;
that being granted, he rested him on the floor, unfit
for a better place by his rusticity. Spenser.
My brother Jaques he keeps at school,
And report speaks goldenly of his profit ;
For my part he keeps me rustically at home.
Shakspeare.
An altar stood, rustick, of grassy ford. Milton.
This is by a rustical severity to banish all urbanity,
whose harmless and confined condition is consistent
with religion. Browne's Vulgar Errours.
He confounds the singing and dancing of the sa-
tyrs with the rustical entertainment of the first Ro-
mans. Dryden.
Quintius here was born,
Whose shining ploughshare was in furrows worn,
Met by his trembling wife, returning home,
And rustically joyed, as chief of Rome. Id.
I was deeply in love with a milliner, upon winch
I was sent away, or, in the university phrase, rusti-
cated for ever. Spectator.
The sweetness and rusticity of a pastoral cannot
be so well exprest in any other tongue as in the
Greek, when rightly mixed with the Dorick dialect.
Addison.
As nothing is so rude and insolent as a wealthy
rustick, all this his kindness is overlooked, and his
person most unworthily railed at. South.
This so general expense of their time would cur-
tail the ordinary means of knowledge, as 'twould
shorten the opportunities of vice ; and so accord-
ingly an universal rustirity presently took place, and
stopped not till it had over-run the whole stock of
mankind. Woodward's Natural History.
With unguent smooth the polished marble shone,
Where ancient Neleus sat, a rustick throne. Pope.
My lady Scudamore, from having rusticated in your
company too long, pretends to open her eyes for the
sake of seeing the sun, and to sleep because it is
night. Id.
An ignorant clown cannot learn fine language or
a courtly behaviour, when his rustick airs have grown
up with him till the age of forty. W alts' & Logick.
RUSTIC GODS, dii rustici, in antiquity, the
gods of the country, or those who presided over
agiculture, &c. Varro invokes the twelve di.
consentes, as the principal among the rustic
gods, viz. Jupiter, Tellus, the Sun, Moon,
Ceres, Bacchus, Rubigus, Flora, Minerva, Ve-
nus, Lympha, and Fortune. Besides these twelve
arch-rustic gods, there were a number of lesser
ones ; as Pales, Vertumnus, Tutelina, Fulgor,
Sterculius, Mellona, Jugatinus, Collinus, Val-
lonia, Terminus, Sylvanus, and Priapus. Stru-
vius adds the Satyrs, Fauns, Sileni, Nymphs,
and even Trytons ; and gives the empire over
all the rustic gods to Pan.
RUSTIC WORK, is where the stones in the face,
&c., of a building, instead' of being smooth, are
hatched, or picked with the point of a hammer.
RUSTICUS (L. Junius Arulenius), a learned
Roman, the preceptor and friend of Pliny the
younger. His abilities are celebrated by Pliny
and Tacitus. He was put to death by Domitian.
— Sueton.
RUS'TLE, v. n. Sax. pnij-tlan. To make
a low continued small noise or rattle.
He is coming ; I hear the straw rustle.
Shakspeare.
This life
Is nobler than attending for a check ;
Richer than doing nothing for a bauble ;
Prouder than rustling in unpaid-for silk. Id.
Thick swarmed, both on the ground, and in the
air
Brushed with the hiss of rustling wings. Hilton.
As when we see the winged winds engage,
Rustling from every quarter of the sky,
North, East, and West, in airy swiftness vy.
Granville.
All begin the attack ;
Fans clap, silks rustle, and tough whalebones crack.
Pope.
Not less their number than the milk-white swans
That o'er the winding of Cyaster's springs,
Stretch their long necks, and clap their ri.itling
wings. Id.
RUSTSCHUK, or RUSCEK," a large town 01
European Turkey, in Bulgaria, situated at the
influx of the Cara Lorn into the Danube, which
is here nearly two miles wide. It has a strong
'castle and several mosques and public baths ; is
the see of a Greek archbishop, and contains con-
siderable manufactures of silk, cotton, linen,
woollen, and tobacco. Giorgley and this town
are the two great entrepots for the commercial in-
tercourse by the Danube between the Euxine
and the interior. It was taken by the Russians
in 1810, and the following year a Turkish army
was totally defeated near this by the Russians,
with the loss of all its artillery and baggage.
About five miles from Rustschuk are to be seen
the ruins of the old town of Tschernow or Cser-
navoda. Population 24,000. Forty miles east
of Nicopoli, and fifty-five west of Semendria.
RUT, n. s. Fr. rut. Copulation of deer :
also, from the Fr. route, the track of a cart-wheel.
That is an advertisement to one Diana, to take
heed of the allurement of coant Rousillon, a foolish
idle boy; but for all that very mttish.
Shakspeare. All's Well that Ends Well..
RUT
207
RUT
The time of going to rut of deer is in September ;
for that they need the whole summers feed to make
them tit for generation ; and, if ram come about the
middle of September, they go to rut somewhat the
sooner. Bacon.
From hills raine waters headlong fall,
That always eat huge ruts, which, met in one bed
fill a vail
With such a confluence of streames, that on the
mountaine grounds
Farre off, in frighted shepherds eares the bustling
noise rebounds. Chapman.
The ground hereof was the observation of this part
in deer after immoderate venery, and about the end
of their rut. Browne.
RUTA, in botany, rue ; a genus of the mono-
gynia order, and decandria class of plants ; na-
tural order twenty-sixth, multisiliquae : CAL.
quinquepartite ; petals concave; receptacle
surrounded wi^h ten melliferous pores : CAPS.
lobed : SEEDS numerous. There are several
species, of which the most remarkable are
these : —
1. R. baga, or Swedish turnip. See RURAL
ECONOMY. Besides being later in shooting than
the common turnip, this plant loses not its nutri-
tive qualities after beinsj shot, but retains all its
juices and solidity. This root has been supposed
a mere variety of the yellow turnip, but it is
found to differ very materially. The stem has
something of the appearance of the rape, or cab-
bage kind ; and that part of the root which is above
the surface of the ground is covered by a thick,
green skin, which in some is smooth, but in
others quite rough, and the internal fleshy part
is of a dense firm consistence, having a yellowish
tinge, nearly similar to that of the horn carrot.
The great inducements for the farmer to enter
freely into the culture of this root are, according
to Mr. Young, 1. If he has the right sort of seed,
the root yellow in flesh, and rough in coat, it
lasts through all frosts, and may be depended on
for sheep quite through the month of April,
though drawn two months before, and spread
on a grass field. 2. It is an excellent and nou-
rishing food for sheep, and also for any sort of
cattle. 3. It is equal to potatoes in keeping
stock swine : a point of very great consequence.
4. It is, next to carrots, the very best food that
can be given to horses. 5. It is sown at a season
which leaves ample time, in case of a failure, to
put in common turnips, or cabbages. Another
extraordinary quality of the ruta baga is that it
seems impossible to make it rot : though bit, or
trod upon by cattle or horses, it never rots ; but
whatever part of the root is left, nay, if scooped
out to the shell, it remains perfectly fresh, and
in spring puts out a new stem. Both roots and
leaves are excellent for culinary purposes.
2. R. hortensis, or common broad-leaved gar-
den rue, has been long cultivated for medicinal
use. It rises with a shrubby stalk to the height
of five or six feet, sending out branches on every
side, garnished with leaves, whose small lobes
are wedge-shaped, of a gray color, and have a
strong odor. The flowers are produced at the
end of the branches in bunches almost in the
form of umbels : they are composed of four
yellow concave petals, which are cut on their
edges, and eight yellow stamina which are longer
than the petals, terminated by roundish summits.
The germen becomes a roundish capsule, with
four lobes, full of holes containing rough black
seeds. Rue has a strong unpleasant smell, and
a bitterish penetrating taste : the leaves, when
full of vigor, are extremely acrid, insomuch as
to inflame and blister the skin, if much handled.
With regard to their medicinal virtues, they are
powerfully stimulating, attenuating, and deter-
gent. Boerhaave entertained a very high opinion
of the virtues of this plant, particularly of the
essential oil, and the distilled water cohobated
or redistilled several times from fresh parcels of
the herb
RUTCHESTER, an ancient town of Northum-
berland, noith-west of Chollerton, called Vindo-
bala by the Romans. The wall of Severus
runs on the middle of the east rampart, and that
of Adrian passes about a chain to the south of
it. Its fort was formerly considerable, and its
ruins are still remarkable.
RUTH, n. s. ~\ From rue. Mercy ;
RUTH'FUL, adj. (.pity; tenderness : thede-
RUTH'FULLY, adv. i rivatives all correspond-
RUTH'LESS, adj. J ing. Out of use.
His archers circle me ; my reins they wound,
And ruthless shed my gall upon the ground.
Sandys.
The Britons, by Maximilian laid way
With wretched miseries and woful ruth,
Were to those Pagans made an open prey. Spenser.
Help me, ye baneful birds, whose shrieking sound
Is sign of dreary death, my deadly cries
Most ruthfully to tune. Id. Pastoral*.
The flower of horse and foot, lost by the valour of
the enemy, ruthfully perished. Knolles.
What is Edward but a ruthless sea ?
What Clarence but a quicksand of deceit?
Shakspeare.
All ruth, compassion, mercy be forgot. Fairfax.
By this Minerva's friend bereft
Oileades of that rich bowl, and left his lips, nose,
eyes
Ruthfully smeared. Chapman's Iliad.
O wretch of guests, said he, thy tale hath stirred
My mind to much ruth. Chapman.
The inhabitants seldom take a ruthful and reaving
experience of those harms, which infectious dis-
eases carry with them. Careut.
The better part with Mary and with Ruth
Chosen thou hast ; and they that overween,
And at thy growing virtues fret their spleen,
No anger find in thee, but pity and ruth. Milton.
Their age the hostile powers restrain,
All but the ruthlea monarch of the mam. Pope.
RUTH, a canonical book of the Old Testa-
ment, being a kind of appendix to the book of
Judges, and an introduction to Samuel ; and
having its title from the person whose history is
herein principally related. In this history are
observable the ancient rights of kindred and re-
demption, and the manner of buying the inheri-
tance of the deceased. The authenticity of this
book was never disputed ; but the learned are
not agreed about the epocha of the history it re-
lates. Watkins places it about A. A. C. 1254.
RUTHERFORD (John), M. D., one of the
founders of the medical school in the University
of Edinburgh, was born in 1695, and received
the rudiments of his education at the parish
school of Selkirk. After his father's death he
RUS
206
RUT
v.mits of turpentine. This varnish must be
lightly and evenly applied with a sponge; after
\vhich the article is to be left to dry in some
situation not exposed to dust. Articles thus
varnished retain their metallic lustre, and do not
contract any spots of rust. This varnish may
be employed with particular advantage to pre-
serve philosophical instruments from any change,
in experiments where, by being placed iu con-
tact with water, they are liable to lose that
polish and precision of form, which consti-
tute part of their value. Plumbago, or black
lead, also protects iron from rust for a time, and
is on that account used on the fronts of grates,
&c.
RUSTIC, adj. &c n. s. ~) Lat. rusticus.
RUST'ICAL, j Rural; country;
RVST'ICALLY, I rude ; untaught ;
RUST'ICALNESS, j plain: a rustic is a
RUST'ICATE, v. n. & v. a. \ clown, a country-
RUSTIC'ITY. J man : the adverb
and noun-substantive corresponding : to rusticate
is to reside in or banish into the country.
By Lelius willing missing was the odds of the Ibe-
rian side, and continued so in the next by the ex-
cellent running of a knight, though fostered by the
muses, as many times the very rustick people left
both their delights and profits to hearken to his songs.
Sidney.
There presented himself a tall, clownish, young
man, who, falling before the queen of the fairies, de-
sired that he might have the achievement of any
adventure, which, during the feast, might happen ;
that being granted, he rested him on the floor, unfit
for a better place by his rusticity. Spenser.
My brother Jaques he keeps at school,
And report speaks goldenly of his profit ;
For my part he keeps me rustically at home.
Shakspeare.
An altar stood, rustick, of grassy ford. Milton.
This is by a rustical severity to banish all urbanity,
whose harmless and confined condition is consistent
with religion. Browne's Vulgar Errours.
He confounds the singing and dancing of the sa-
tyrs with the rustical entertainment of the first Ro-
mans. Dryden.
Quintius here was born,
Whose shining ploughshare was in furrows worn,
Met by his trembling wife, returning home,
And rustically joyed, as chief of Rome. Id.
I was deeply in love with a milliner, upon which
I was sent away, or, in the university phrase, rusti-
cated for ever. Spectator.
The sweetness and rusticity of a pastoral cannot
be so well exprest in any other tongue as in the
Greek, when rightly mixed with the Dorick dialect.
Addison.
As nothing is so rude and insolent as a wealthy
rustick, all this his kindness is overlooked, and his
person most unworthily railed at. South.
This so general expense of their time would cur-
tail the ordinary means of knowledge, as 'twould
shorten the opportunities of vice ; and so accord-
ingly an universal rustifity presently took place, and
stopped not till it had over-run the whole stock of
mankind. Woodward's Xalimil Hiitory.
V»'ith unguent smooth the polished marble shone,
Where ancient Neleus sat, a nuttch throne. Pope.
My lady Scudamore, from having rusticated in your
company too long, pretends to open her eyes for the
sake of seeing the sun, and to sleep because it is
night. id.
An ignorant clown cannot learn fine language or
a courtly behaviour, when his rustick airs have grown
up with him till the age of forty. Watts's Logick.
RUSTIC GODS, dii rustici, in antiquity, the
gods of the country, or those who presided over
agiculture, &c. Varro invokes the twelve di.
consentes, as the principal among the rustic
gods, viz. Jupiter, Tellus, the Sun, Moon,
Ceres, Bacchus, Rubigus, Flora, Minerva, Ve-
nus, Lympha, and Fortune. Besides these twelve
arch-rustic gods, there were a number of lesser
ones ; as Pales, Vertumnus, Tutelina, Fulgor,
Sterculius, Mellona, Jugatinus, Collinus, Val-
lonia, Terminus, Sylvanus, and Priapus. Stru-
vius adds the Satyrs, Fauns, Sileni, Nymphs,
and even Trytons ; and gives the empire over
all the rustic gods to Pan.
RISTIC WORK, is where the stones in the face,
&c., of a building, instead of being smooth, are
hatched, or picked with the point of a hammer.
RUSTICUS (L. Junius Arulenius), a learned
Roman, the preceptor and friend of Pliny the
younger. His abilities are celebrated by Pliny
and Tacitus. He was put to death by Domitian.
— Sueton.
RUSTLE, v. n. Sax. pnij-tlan. To make
a low continued small noise or rattle.
He is coming ; I hear the straw rustle.
Shakspeare.
This life
Is nobler than attending for a check ;
Richer than doing nothing for a bauble ;
Prouder than rustling in unpaid-for silk. Id.
Thick swarmed, both on the ground, and in the
air
Brushed with the hiss of rustling wings. Milton.
As when we see the winged winds engage,
Rustling from every quarter of the sky,
North, East, and West, in airy swiftness vy.
Granville.
All begin the attack ;
Fans clap, silks rustle, and tough whalebones crack.
Pope.
Not less their number than the milk-white swans
That o'er the winding of Cyaster's springs,
Stretch their long necks, and clap their rust/in^-
wings. Id."
RUSTSCHUK, or RuscEK,"a large town or
European Turkey, in Bulgaria, situated at the
influx of the Cara Lorn into the Danube, which
is here nearly two miles wide. It has a strong
castle and several mosques and public baths ; is
the see of a Greek archbishop, and contains con-
siderable manufactures of silk, cotton, linen,
woollen, and tobacco. Giorgley and this town
are the two great entrepots for the commercial in-
tercourse by the Danube between the Euxine
and the interior. It was taken by the Russims
in 1810, and the following year a Turkish army
was totally defeated near this by the Russians,
with the loss of all its artillery and baggage.
About five miles from Rustschuk are to be seen
the ruins of the old town ofTschernow or Cser-
navoda. Population 24,000. Forty miles east
of Nicopoli, and fifty-five west of Semendria.
RUT, n. s. Fr. rut. Copulation of deer :
also, from the Fr. route, the track of a cart- wheel.
That is an advertisement to one Diana, to take
heed of the allurement of coant Rousillon, a foolish
idle boy; but for all that very rutt'uh.
Shakspeare. All's Well that Ends WeU..
RUT
207
RUT
The time of going to rut of deer is in September ;
for that they need the whole summers feed to make
them tit for generation ; and, if rain come about the
middle of September, they go to rut somewhat the
sooner. Bacon.
From hills raine waters headlong fall,
That always eat huge ruts, which, met in one bed
fill a vail
With such a confluence of streames, that on the
mountaine grounds
Farre off, in frighted shepherds eares the bustling
noise rebounds. Chapman.
The ground hereof was the observation of this part
in deer after immoderate venery, and about the end
of their rut. Browne.
RUTA, in botany, rue ; a genus of the mono-
gynia order, and decandria class of plants ; na-
tural order twenty-sixth, multisiliquae : CAL.
quinquepartite ; petals concave ; receptacle
surrounded with ten melliferous pores : CAPS.
lobed : SEEDS numerous. There are several
species, of which the most remarkable are
these : —
1. R. baga, or Swedish turnip. See RURAL
ECONOMY. Besides being later in shooting than
the common turnip, this plant loses not its nutri-
tive qualities after beinpj shot, but retains all its
juices and solidity. This root has been supposed
a mere variety of the yellow turnip, but it is
found to differ very materially. The stem has
something of the appearance of the rape, or cab-
bage kind ; and that part of the root which is above
the surface of the ground is covered by a thick,
green skin, which in some is smooth, but in
others quite rough, and the internal fteshy part
is of a dense firm consistence, having a yellowish
tinge, nearly similar to that of the horn carrot.
The great inducements for the farmer to enter
freely into the culture of this root are, according
to Mr. Young, 1. If he has the right sort of seed,
the root yellow in flesh, and rough in coat, it
lasts through all frosts, and may be depended on
for sheep quite through the month of April,
though drawn two months before, and spread
on a grass field. 2. It is an excellent and nou-
rishing food for sheep, and also for any sort of
cattle. 3. It is equal to potatoes in keeping
stock swine : a point of very great consequence.
4. It is, next to carrots, the very best food that
tan be given to horses. 5. It is sown at a season
which leaves ample time, in case of a failure, to
put in common turnips, or cabbages. Another
extraordinary quality of the ruta baga is that it
seems impossible to make it rot : though bit, or
trod upon by cattle or horses, it never rots; but
whatever part of the root is left, nay, if scooped
out to the shell, it remains perfectly fresh, and
in spring puts out a new stem. Both roots and
leaves are excellent for culinary purposes.
2. R. hortensis, or common broad-leaved gar-
den rue, has been long cultivated for medicinal
use. It rises with a shrubby stalk to the height
of five or six feet, sending out branches on every
side, garnished with leaves, whose small lobes
are wedge-shaped, of a gray color, and have a
strong odor. The flowers are produced at the
end of the branches in bunches almost in the
form of umbels : they are composed of four
yellow concave petals, which are cut on their
edges, and eight yellow stamina which are longer
than the petals, terminated by roundish summits.
The germen becomes a roundish capsule, with
four lobes, full of holes containing rough black
seeds. Rue has a strong unpleasant smell, and
a bitterish penetrating taste : the leaves, when
full of vigor, are extremely acrid, insomuch ts
to inflame and blister the skin, if much handled.
With regard to their medicinal virtues, they are
powerfully stimulating, attenuating, and deter-
gent. Boerhaave entertained a very high opinion
of the virtues of this plant, particularly of the
essential oil, and the distilled water cohobated
or redistilled several times from fresh parcels of
the herb
RUTCHESTER, an ancient town of Northum-
berland, noith-west of Chollerton, called Vindo-
bala by the Romans. The wall of Severus
runs on the middle of the east rampart, and that
of Adrian passes about a chain to the south of
it. Its fort was formerly considerable, and its
ruins are still remarkable.
RUTH, n. s. ~\ From rue. Mercy;
RUTH'FUL, adj. (.pity; tenderness : thede-
RUTH'FULLY, adv. i rivatives all correspond-
RUTH'LESS, adj. x ing. Out of use.
His archers circle me ; my reins they wound,
And ruthless shed my gall upon the ground.
Sandys.
The Britons, by Maximilian laid way
With wretched miseries and woful ruth,
Were to those Pagans made an open prey. Spenser.
Help me, ye baneful birds, whose shrieking sound
Is sign of dreary death, my deadly cries
Most ruthfully to tune. Id. Pastorals.
The flower of horse and foot, lost by the valour of
the enemy, ruthfully perished. Knolles.
What is Edward but a ruthless sea 1
What Clarence but a quicksand of deceit?
Shakspeare.
All ruth, compassion, mercy be forgot. Fairfax.
By this Minerva's friend bereft
Oileades of that rich bowl, and left his lips, nose,
eyes
Ruthfully smeared. Chapman's Iliad.
O wretch of guests, said he, thy tale hath stirred
My mind to much ruth. Chapman.
The inhabitants seldom take a ruthful and reaving
experience of those harms, which infectious dis-
eases carry with them. Carew.
The better part with Mary and with Ruth
Chosen thou hast ; and they that overween,
And at thy growing virtues fret their spleen,
No anger find in thee, but pity and ruth. Milton.
Their age the hostile powers restrain,
All but the ruthless monarch of the main. Pope.
RUTH, a canonical book of the Old Testa-
ment, being a kind of appendix to the book of
Judges, and an introduction to Samuel ; and
having its title from the person whose history is
herein principally related. In this history are
observable the ancient rights of kindred and re-
demption, and the manner of buying the inheri-
tance of the deceased. The authenticity of this
book was never disputed ; but the learned are
not agreed about the epocha of the history it re-
lates. VVatkins places it about A. A. C. 1254.
RUTHERFORD (John), M. D., one of the
founders of the medical school in the University
of Edinburgh, was born in 1695, and received
the rudiments of his education at the parish
school of Selkirk. After his father's death he
208
RUTLAND.
went to Edinburgh, where he studied at the Uni-
versity. He next engaged himself as an appren-
tice to a surgeon in Edinburgh, with whom he
continued till 1716, when he went to London,
and attended the lectures on anatomy by Dr.
Douglas, on surgery by Andre, and on materia
medica by Strother. In 1717 he returned to
Edinburgh, and afterwards he went to Leyden,
then the most famous medical school in Europe.
In 1719 he went to France, and was, in July,
admitted to the degree of M. I), at the Univer-
sity of Rheims. He spent the winter in Paris,
for the sake of Winslow's demonstrations m
anatomy; and in 1720 returned to Britain. In
1721 he settled as a physician in Edinburgh ;
and soon afterwards joined with Drs. Sinclair,
Plummer, and Innes, in purchasing a laboratory,
for the preparation of compound medicines.
They also gave lectures on chemistry to a nume-
rous audience ; and soon after on other branches
of medicine. In 1725 they were appointed con-
junct professors in the University, and each for
some time read lectures in every department of
medical science, except anatomy, and carried
forward their classes in rotation. In 1748 Dr.
Rutherford introduced a great improvement in
medical education. Sensible that abstract lec-
tures on the symptoms and the mode of treating
various diseases, of which the students know
little but the names, could scarcely be of any
benefit, he had for some time encouraged his
pupils to bring patients to him on Saturday,
when he enquired into the nature of their dis-
eases, and prescribed for them in the presence
of the class. This gave rise to the course of
clinical lectures ; the utility of which was so ob-
vious that it was enacted, by a decree of the se-
nate of the University, that no man should be
admitted to an examination for his degree who
had not attended those lectures ; to which an
excellent hospital, then newly erected, gave the
professors every opportunity of doing ample
justice. He resigned his professorship in 1765,
after having taught medicine in its different
departments for upwards of forty years. He
died in Edinburgh in 1779.
RUTHERFORD (Thomas), D. D., was born in
1712; became fellow of St. John's College,
Cambridge, regius professor of divinity in that
university, rector of Shenneld, and archdeacon
of Essex. He married Charlotte Elizabeth Abdy,
daughter of Sir William Abdy, Bart. He pub-
lished, 1. An Essay on the Nature and Obliga-
tions of Virtue; 8vo. 1744. 2. A System of
Natural Philosophy ; Cambridge, 1748 ; 2 vols.
8vo. 3. A Letter to Dr. Middleton, in defence
of Bishop Sherlock; 8vo. 1750. 4. A Discourse
on Miracles; 8vo. 1751. 5. Institutes of Na-
tural Law; 2 rols. 8vo. 6, 7. Two Letters to
Dr. Kennicott; 1761 and 1762. 8. A Vindi-
cation of Subscriptions to an Established Con-
fession of Faith, &c.; Cambridge, 1767. 9, 10.
Two other Tracts on the same subject ; 1 766 and
1 767 : besides several Sermons, and Charges to
the Clergy. He died October 5th, 1771, aged
rifty-nine.
RUTHERGLEN, or RIGLEN, an ancient
royal borough of Scotland, in Lanarkshire.
Maitland says it was founded by Ruther, the
seventh king of Scots, from whom it derived its
name. From several original charters, still pre-
served, it is certain that it was erected into a
royal borough by king David I. about 1126.
The territory under the jurisdiction of the bo-
rough was extensive, and the inhabitants enjoyed
many distinguished privileges, which were how-
ever gradually wrested from them in favor of Glas-
gow, which in later times rose into consequence
by trade and manufactures. It is now much
reduced, consisting of but one street and a few
lanes. About 150 yards to the south of the main
street is a kind of lane, named Dins Dvkes,
where queen Mary was for a short time stopt in
her flight, after the battle of Langsid*, by some
insolent rustics. Adjoining to a lane called the
Back Row stood the castle of Rutherglen, ori-
ginally built about the time of the foundation of
the town. This ancient fortress underwent se-
veral sieges during the wars in the days of kins;
Robert Bruce, and it remained a place of strength
until the battle of Langside; soon after which it
was destroyed by the regent, to revenge himself
on the Hamilton family, in whose custody it then
was. No relic of it now exists. Rutherjlen
joins with Kilmarnock, Port-Glasgow, Renfrew,
and Dumbarton, in electing a member to
parliament. Rutherglen is two miles south-east
of Glasgow, and nine west of Hamilton.
RUTHYN, a borough of North Wales, in Den-
bighshire, with a good market on Monday, with
an ancient castle restored and occupied by the
WTests. The church, a handsome building, was
made collegiate in 1310, at which time there was
here a monastery of White Friars. The town
was formerly surrounded by walls, but it is now
little more than a broad ill-built street, leading
to the market-house, in which stands the town-
hall. It has a free school, hospital, and county
court-house ; fifteen miles south-west from Holv-
well, and 210 miles north-west of London
RUTILIUS RUFUS (Publius), a Roman con-
sul, in the age of Sylla, celebrated for his writ-
ings. Sylla having banished him, he retired to
Smyrna, and refused, when solicited by his
friends, to be restored by arms. He was the
first who taught the Roman soldiers to fabricate
their own weapons ; and, during his exile, wrote
a History of Rome, in Greek ; an account of
his own life in Latin ; and many other works,
which are lost. Ovid, Fast., Seneca, Cic. &c.
RUTLAND, county of, or RUTLANDSHIRE, is
the smallest county of England. The Saxon
name of this county was Roteland, but its ety-
mology is otherwise unknown. Some have de-
rived it from Roet, or Rud, which signifies red,
because in many parts of the county the land is
of a red color. But others object that this cannot
be the reason, and allege that there is only one
part of the county, which is about Glaiston, that
has a ruddy soil ; besides, most of the English
counties have soils of the same color ; and there-
fore these would have it to be derived from the
word Rotundalandia, from its circular figure ;
but its form was not round when this name, of
which Rutland is supposed to be a contraction,
was given it; and, besides, it is not probable
that the Saxons would give a Latin name to an
English county. The Coritani inhabited tin*
RUTLAND.
•209
district in the time of the Romans ; but under
the Saxons it was part of the kingdom of Mer-
cia. This county is bounded by Leicestershire on
the N. N.W., west and south-west ; and by Lin-
colnshire on the east and north-east. It is only
forty-eight miles in circumference. It is divided
inio five hundreds, and contains 91,002 acres
;uid twenty-nine perches.
The climate of this county is generally
esteemed very good and healthy ; and it is
thought that the winds blow as many days in
the year from one point as another, the west e\-
cepted. The mean quantity of rain which has
been observed, according to a journal kept by
Samuel Barker, esq., and cited in Mr. Parkin-
son's Survey, in eight years, was 24-61. The
soil of this county is, generally speaking, fertile,
but varying very much in different parts ; the
«;ust and south-east parts, through which the
great North road runs, being in general of a
shallow staple, upon limestone rock, with a mix-
ture of cold woodland clay soil. The other
parts of the county are composed of a strong
loamy red land, intermixed with keal (iron-stone
is found amongst it). This soil is esteemed
most congenial for convertible tillage crops ; the
understratum of the whole county, at different
depths, is generally a very strong blue clay.
The circumstance of this county varying so
much in its soils, at such small distances, causes
each sort to be much more valuable than it
would be were it of one kind through the whole
of a lordship; there being a proportion of each
soil on the different farms, so as to have con-
vertible high lands for tillage, and low lands for
grass, having the advantage of being proper for
breeding and store stock ; thus producing every
thing useful within themselves, the tillage land
growing turnips for the store and fattening
sheep ; barley, clover, wheat, and grass-seeds
plentifully. The face of the county is, generally
speaking, very beautiful, especially where it is
well timbered, being much diversified by small
and gently rising hills running east and west,
with valleys of about half a mile in width inter-
vening; so that in travelling through the county
there are fresh views at the distance of every
three or four miles, causing its appearance to be
very lively. The produce of this county has
already been partially alluded to : its barley is
of a very superior quality, so that the inhabi-
tants call it corn, giving other grain its name,
such as wheat, oats, &c. At Ketton there is a
kind of stone very proper and famous for build-
ing. There is also in many parts stone for
lime, consisting of a soft and hard species.
Various opinions are entertained of the lime
made from these two sorts ; but in general that
from the hard stone is preferred. This county
is, upon the whole, well watered. The rivers
Eye and Welland are its south-west and south-
east boundaries ; but its two principal rivers are
the Guash and the Chater : there are also many
rivulets and numberless springs. The Welland
divides this county from Northamptonshire ; the
Guash, or, as it is commonly called, the Wash,
rises near Oakham, in a district surrounded with
hills, and running eastward divides the county
nearly into two equal parts, and running into
Voi,. MX.
Lincolnshire fulls into the Welland to the east of
Stamford. This river supplies many towns with
excellent water, and affords plenty of fish ; and
most of the other towns and villages at a dis-
tance from this river have rivulets and brooks
that pass by them. — There is a navigable canal
in this county, made by act of parliament passed
in 1793, for extending the Melton Mowbray
canal to Oakham, the centre of the county,
which has proved of great benefit to it. It i»
said, however, to be frequently defective in the
summer season from the very scanty supply of
water. Rutlandshire sends only two members
to parliament, both for the county.
The smallness of this county will account for
the few eminent men it has produced. We know
not whether we may apply the term eminent to
Jeffery Hudson, the dwarf; but certainly he
thought himself of some consequence when he
fought a duel with a brother of lord Croft's. He
was born at Oakham, the county town, in the
year 1619, and when seven years of age was not
above fifteen inches high, though his parents,
who had several other children of the usual size,
were tall and lusty. At that age the duke of
Buckingham took him into his family ; and, to
divert the court, who, on a progress through this
county, were entertained at the duke's seat at Bur-
leigh-on-the-llill, he was served up at table in a
cold pie. Between the seventh and the thirteenth
year of his age he did not advance many inches
in stature : but it is remarkable that even after
thirty he shot up to the height of three feet nine
inches, which he never exceeded. He was given
to Henrietta Maria, consort to king Charles I.,
probably at the time of his being served up in
the pie; and that princess, who kept him as her
dwarf, is said frequently to have employed
him in messages abroad. In the civil wars
between king Charles the First and the Par-
liament, Hudson was raised to the rank of
captain of horse in the king's service, and
afterwards accompanied the queen, his mis-
tress, to France ; whence he was banished for
killing his antagonist, as above mentioned. They
fought on horseback. After his banishment, he
was taken at sea by an Algerine corsair, and was
many years a slave in Barbary ; but being re-
deemed he' came to England, and in 1678 was
committed prisoner to the Gate House, West-
minster, on suspicion of being concerned in
what was called Oates's plot. After lying there
a considerable time he was discharged, and died
in 1682, aged sixty-three years. In Newgate
Street, London, there is a small stone sculpture
of one William Evans, a gigantic porter to
Charles 1 . ; and another of his diminutive frl-
low-servant. Pennant has given us a sketch of
this sculpture on the same plate with the Boar
in East Cheap, but has omitted to insert the
date, 1669. The same author observes that it
was probably by his own consent that the dwarf
was put into the pocket of the giant, and drawn
out by him at a masque at court to amaze and
divert the spectators ; for it is certain he had too
much spirit to suffer such an insult from even
Goliath, as was evident from his courage in 1644,
when he killed Mr. Croft, who had presumed to
ridicule the irritable hero. These figures are in
I1
RUY
210
RYD
very excellent preservation, having been recently
painted, with red surtouts, by the owner or oc-
cupier of the house (No. 80), Mr. George Payne,
hatter, hosier, and glover. Mr. Pennant, and
others after him, have placed this sculpture over
the entrance to Bagnio Court. — This county has
given the title of earl ever since the reign of 1681.
sciences at Paris in 1727 elected him a member.
He was also F. R. S. of London.
RUYSDAAL, or RUYSDALL (Jacob), an
eminent Dutch landscape painter, born at
Haerlem, in 1636. He painted sea pieces with
inimitable truth and transparency. He died in
RUYTER (Michael Adrian), a distinguished
Dutch naval officer born at Flushing, in Zealand,
in 1607. He entered on a seafaring life when
Richard II. The first earl of Rutland was Ed-
ward, the eldest son of Edward Langley, the
fifth son of Edward III. : but the first earl of
the present family of Manners was created earl of he was only eleven years old, was first a cabin
Rutland by Henry VIII. In the reign of queen boy, and advanced successively to the rank of
Anne, John Manners, then earl of Rutland, re- mate, master, and captain. He made eight
ceived from that princess the title of marquis of voyages to the West Indies, and ten to Brasil.
Granby and duke of Rutland, which his succes- He was then promoted to the rank of rear ad-
sors still enjoy. miral, and sent to assist the Portuguese against
' There is no manufacture carried on in this the Spaniards. His gallantry was still more
county of any account. Want of water and scarcity conspicuous before Sallee in Barbary. With one
of fuel are the only reasons, and not any want of single vessel he sailed through the roads of that
inclination, spirit, or property, in the inhabitants place in defiance of five Algerine corsairs. In
of the county.' Parkinson.
1653 a squadron of seventy vessels was sent
RUTTUNPORE, a town and district of Hin- against the English under admiral Van Tromp.
dostan, in the province of Gundwaneh. It is Ruyter, who accompanied the admiral in this
governed by a rajah, who is tributary to the expedition, seconded him with great skill and
Mahrattas. The town consists of about 1000 bravery in the three battles which the English so
houses, but it was formerly a place of much gloriously won. He was afterwards stationed in
greater consequence. There are other places of the Mediterranean, where he took several Turkish
this name in Hindostan. vessels. In 1659 he received a commission to
RUTUBA, in ancient geography, two rivers join the king of Denmark in his war with the
of Italy : one in Liguria, rising in the Appenine Swedes ; and the king of Denmark ennobled
mountains, and running into the Mediterranean: him and gave him a pension. In 1661 he run
another in Latium, falling into the Tiber.
ashore a vessel belonging to Tunis, released
RUTULI, an ancient people of Latium, over forty Christian slaves, made a treaty with the
whom Turnus reigned, when ./Eneas arrived in Tunisians, and reduced the Algerine corsairs to
Italy. Their capital was Ardea.
submission. His country raised him to the rank
RUTUP./E, RUTUPIUM, or RUTUPENSIS POB- of vice-admiral and commander in chief. He
TUS, in ancient British geography, a sea-port obtained a signal victory over the combined fleets
town of Cantium, on the south coast of Britain, of France and Spain in 1672, about the time of
abounding in oysters. Some suppose it to be the conquest of Holland. Ruyter, having thus
Dover; others Richborough, or Sandwich.
made himself master of the sea, conducted a
RUYSCH (Frederick), the celebrated Dutch neat of Indiamen safely into the Texel ; thus
anatomist, was born at the Hague in 1638. defending and enriching his country, while it
After making great progress at home, he repaired was the prey of hostile invaders. In 1673 he
to Leyden, and there prosecuted the study of had three engagements with the fleets of France
anatomy and botany. He studied next at Fra- and England, in which his bravery was more
neker, where he became M. D. He then returned
to the Hague; and, marrying in 1661, devoted
his whole time to his profession. In 1665 he
published a treatise, entitled Dilucidatio valvu-
distinguished than ever. But in an engagement
with the French fleet, off the coast of Sicily, he
lost the day, and received a mortal wound, of
which he died in a few days. His corpse was
larum de Vasis Lymphaticis et Lacteis ; which carried to Amsterdam, and a magnificent monu-
raised his reputation so high that he was chosen ment was there erected by the command of the
professor of anatomy at Amsterdam. After this states-general.
he was perpetually engaged in dissecting the RYDAL WATER, a lake of Westmoreland, a
various parts of the human body. Ilis anatomi- little west of Ambleside ; about one mile long,
cal collection was very valuable. He had a It has many small islands ; and communicates
series of foetuses of all sizes, from the length of by a narrow channel with Grassmere Water on
the little finger to that of a new born infant.
Peter the Great of Russia, in his tour through
Holland in 1698, visited Ruysch, passed whole
days with him, and, when he returned to Hol-
land in 1717, purchased his cabinet of curiosities
for 30,000 florins, and sent it to Petersburg.
In 1685 he was made professor of medicine.
Ruysch retained his vigor of mind and body
till 1731, when he died on the 22d of February.
His anatomical works are printed in 4 vols. 4to.
The style of his writings is simple and concise,
the west, and by the Rothway with Windermere
Lake on the south. Rydal Mall stands on an
eminence near the lake.
RYDROOG, a town and district of Hindos-
tan, in the province of Bijanagur, now included
in the British collectorship of Bellary. It was
taken possession of in the end of the sixteenth
century, by the delawai, or minister of the rajah
of Bijanagur, after the defeat of that prince
by the Mahometans. In 1766 it was subdued
by Hyder Aly ; and at the peace of 1 792 ceded
but sometimes inaccurate. The academy of to the Nizam; but in the year 1800 it
RYM
211
RZE
made over to the British. The town stands in
long. 77° 22' E., and lat. 14° 19'.
RYE, n. s. Sax. riyje ; Swed. ryg, rug ;
Belg. rogge, i. e. rough. A coarse kind of bread
corn.
Between the acres of the rye,
These pretty country folks would lye. S/iakspeare
Some sow rye grass with the corn at Michaelmas
Mortimer.
Rye is more acrid, laxative, and less nourishing
than wheat. Arbuthnot on Aliments.
RYE, in botany. See SECALE.
RYE, a town of Sussex, with markets on Wed-
nesday and Saturday. It is one of the cinque-
ports ; is a handsome well built place, governed
by a mayor and jurats, and sends one member
to parliament. It has a church built with stone,
and a town hall ; and the streets are paved with
stone. It has two gates, and is a place of great
naval trade. Thence large quantities of corn
are exported, and many of the inhabitants are
fishermen. It is thirty-four miles south-east
by south of Tunbridge, and sixty-four on the
same point from London. The mouth of the
harbour is choked up with sand, though of
late it has been considerably improved, by cut-
ting a new channel to the sea, and erecting a
dam across the old one, under the direction of
Dr. Pape, vicar of Pen. The corporation is held
by prescription, and consists of a mayor, jurats,
and freemen ; and, ever since the reign of king
Edward III., this place has sent two members
to parliament, who are elected by the mayor and
freemen. A store-house, called the Friary, was
formerly a church belonging to the Augustins.
RYEGATE, a borough and market town of
Surry, seated in the valley of Holmsdale. It
sends one member to the imperial parliament.
It had a castle, the ruins of which are still to be
seen; particularly a long vault, with a large
room at one end, where the barons held their
private meetings in the reign of king John, be-
fore they took up arms against him. It is six-
teen miles east of Guildford, and twenty-one
south-west of London. Market on Tuesday.
RYEGRASS. See HORDEUM.
RYEPOOR, a large town of Hindostan, pro-
vince of Gundwaneh, district of Choteesgur. It
was formerly reckoned the second in the Nagpore
dominions, and is situated on the road from
Cuttack to Nagpore, in long. 82° 26' E.. lat. 21°
17' N.
RYER (Peter Du), a French dramatic writer,
oprn in Paris in 1605. He was secretary to the
king, and afterwards became secretary to the
duke of Vendome. He wrote for the booksellers,
and his works procured him a place in the
French Academy in 1646. He was afterwards
made historiographer of France. He wrote nine-
teen dramatic pieces, and thirteen translations.
He died in 1658.
RYMER (Thomas), esq., the author of the
Pffidera, was born in the north of England, and
educted at the grammar school of Northallerton.
He was admitted a scholar at Cambridge, then
became a member of Gray's Inn, and at length
was appointed historiographer to king William.
He wrote A View of the Tragedies of the Last
Age, and afterwards published a tragedy named
Edgar. His Fccdera, a collection of all the
public transactions, treaties, &c., of the kings of
England with foreign princes, is esteemed one of
our most authentic and valuable records, and is
often referred to by the best English historians.
It was published in London about 1700, in
17 vols. folio. Three were added by Sanderson
after Rymer's death. The whole were reprinted
at the Hague in 10 vols. in 1739. They were
abridged by Rapin in French, and inserted in
Le Clerc's Bibliotheque. Rymer died in 1713.
Some specimens of his poetry are preserved in
Nichols's Select Collections.
RYMER, THOMAS THE. See RHYMER.
RYNABAD, a town of Bengal, in the district
of Jessore, stands on the south bank of the Boi-
rub, and is one of the most frequented channels
for boats coming down the country in the hot sea-
son, through the woods or sunderbunds. Long.
89° 44' E., lat. 22° 42' N.
RYNCHOPS, in ornithology, a genus belong-
ing to the order of anseres. The bill is straight;
and the superior mandible much shorter than the
inferior, which is truncated at the point. The
species are two, viz.
1. R. fulva, and 2. R. nigra, both natives of
America.
RYSCHIA, in botany, a genus of the monogy-
nia order, and penta»idria class of plants: TIL.
pentaphyllous : COR. pentapetalous ; the apices
turned back, about three times the length of the
calyx ; the filaments are five, awl-shaped, and
shorter than the petals : CAPS, quadrilocular,
and contains many seeds. Of this there are two
species, viz.
1. R. clausifolia ; and 2. R.souroubea.
RYVES (Sir Thomas), an English lawyer,
born about 1590, and educated at Winchester
school, and the university of Oxford. He be-
came a celebrated civilian in Doctors' Commons,
and the court of Admiralty. On the accession
of Charles I. he was made king's advocate, and
knighted. He wrote, 1. The Vicar's Plea; 2.
Historia Navalis Antiqua; 3. Historia Navalis
Media. He died in 1651.
RZESZOW, one of the circles of Austrian
Poland, lying along the southern frontier of the
new kingdom of Poland, and containing a tract
of 1675 square miles. It is watered by the
San and the Wisloka, and has about 225,000 in-
habitants. It is in general level and fertile, but
is covered on the north side by almost impene
trable forests. The capital of the same name is
a small town on the Wisloka, seventy miles west
of Lemberg, and eighty east of Cracow. It is one
of the best built towns of the Austrian part of
Poland, and has a brisk traffic in corn and poultry.
Inhabitants 4600.
P2
SAA
212
SAB
As a letter, S is the eighteenth in our alphabet,
-and the fourteenth consonant. The sound is
formed by driving the breath through a narrow
passage between the palate and the tongue, ele-
vated near it, together with a motion of the lower
jaw and teeth towards the upper, the lips being
a little way open ; with such a configuration of
every part of the mouth and larynx as renders
the voice somewhat hissing.
S has in English the same sound as in other
languages, and unhappily prevails in so many of
our words that it produces in the ear of a
foreigner a continued sibilation. In the begin-
ning of words it has invariably its natural and
genuine sound : in the middle it is sometimes
uttered with a stronger appulse of the tongue to
the palate, like z, as rose, rosy, osier, resident,
business. In the end of monosyllables it is
sometimes 5, as in this ; and sometimes z, as in
as, has; no noun singular should end with s
single : therefore in words, written with diph-
thongs, and naturally long, an e is nevertheless
added at the end, as goose, house ; and, where
the syllable is short, the s is doubled, and was
once sse, as ass, anciently asse; wilderness,
anciently wildernesse; distress, anciently dis-
tresse. In some words it is silent, as isle,
island, viscount, &c. Of all other letters, the s
is nearest akin to the r ; whence it was frequently
changed, on account of its disagreeable sound,
into r. See R. Add to this, that the Latin
nouns now terminating in or, as arbor, labor, Sec.,
all anciently ended in s, as arbos, labos, &c.
As an abbreviation, S stands for societas or
socius; as, R.S.S. for Regie societatis socius ; or
F. R.S. Frater rigia societatis, i. e. fellow of the
royal society. As a numeral, S was anciently
us*»r1 for seven.
SAAD EDDIN MOHAMMED BEN HASSAN,
known also by the appellation of Khodja Effendi,
the most celebrated of the Turkish historians.
He became preceptor to sultan Amurath III. ; and
was subsequently appointed mufti, which office
he held till his death, about A. D. 1600. He
was the author of The Crown of Histories, con-
taining an account of all the Turkish emperors
to his own times, translated into Italian by Vin-
cent Brattuti, and into Latin by Kollar. A. L.
Schloezer, in his Critico- Historical Amusements,
Gottingen, 1797, 8vo., has given full details of
this Chronicle, which has been continued from
1510, where the author concluded it, to 1751, by
five other historiographers appointed by the
lultans.
SAADE, a town of Arabia, the capital of the
mountainous district of Yemen, called also the Sa-
han. It is the residence of a chief,who assumes the
title of Imam ; but who finds it difficult to main-
tain his ground. His revenue arises chiefly from a
custom-house here established, at which duties
are paid by goods passing into the interior. In
the neighbourhood is a fortified height. 368
miles N.N. E. of Mocha.
SAAN LOUIS, a town of the Prussian pro-
\ince of the Lower Rhine, fortified by Vauban,
S.
under Louis XIV., but ceded to Prussia by a
treaty of Paris in 1815. During the revolution,
this place was called Sarre Libre. It is eleven
miles north-west of Saarbruck, and thirty-four
east of Thionville, contains 4 100 inhabitants, and
has manufactures of iron and leather.
SAATZ, a circle of Bohemia, contiguous to
the Saxon frontier, and to the circles of Leut-
meritz, Rakonitz, and Elnbogen. Its area is
about 820 square miles, is level towards the
south, and contains some of the best corn land
in Bohemia, but the north is traversed by the
Erzgebirge mountains, in which there are mines of
iron, alum, and tin. The woods are here also
extensive. Other products of this circle are
flax, hops, turf, and coal. There are some cotton
manufactures. Population 114,000.
SAATZ, in Bohemian Zatets, a town of Bohe-
mia, on the Egra, the chief place of the preced-
ing circle. Population 3800. Eighty-nine miles
west by north of Prague, aud twenty-eight east
of Carlsbad.
SAAVEDRA. See CERVANTES.
SABA, a Dutch island of the West Indies, is
a great but fruitful rock, four leagues in circuit,
without any road for ships, and with but one
landing place, at a creek on the south side. One
delightful valley produces necessaries for the few
inhabitants, and materials for several manufac-
tures ; but, being destitute of a port, its com-
merce is inconsiderable. There is abundance of
fish, particularly bonitos, caught on the coasts.
Rocks appear for some distance on the coast,
and vessels* of course cannot come in, unless they
be very small.
SAB^EANS, or SABJEI. See SABIANS.
SAB'AOTH, n.s. Heb. K3JT. Signifying an
army.
Holy Lord God of sabaoth ; that is, Lord of hosts.
Common I'rayer.
SABA/I A, in Greek antiquity, were noctur-
nal mysteries in honor of Jupiter Sabazius. All
the initiated had a golden serpent put in at their
breasts, and taken out at the lower part of their
garments, in memory of Jupiter's ravishing Pro-
serpine in the form of a serpent. There were also
other feasts and sacrifices distinguished by this
appellation, in honor of Mithras, the deity of
the Persians.
SABBATARIANS, a sect of Christians,
chiefly Baptists, whot observe the Jewish or
seventh-day Sabbath, from a persuasion that,
being one of the ten commandments, which
they contend are all in their nature moral, it
was not abrogated by the New Testament. They
say that Saturday must at least be deemed of
equal validity for public worship with any day
never particularly set apart by Jesus Christ and
his Apostles. In our own country this sect is
by no means numerous. They have but two con-
gregations in London, if these are not united.
In America, however, there are many Christians
of this persuasion, particularly in Rhode Island,
and New Jersey.
SABBATH.
213
SAB'BATH, n. s. > Heb. H3P, signifying
SABBAT'ICAL, adj. ] rest; Fr. s'ibbat; Lat. sab-
batum. The day appointed by God for public
worship among Jews and Christians : the adjec-
tive correspond) ag.
I purpose,
And by our holy sabbath have I sworn,
To have the due and forfeit of my bond.
Shakspeare
The usurer is the greatest sabbathbreaker, because
his plough goes every Sunday. Bacon'i Essays.
The Sabbathless pursuit of wealth is the present
disease of Great Britain. Bacon.
Never any sabbath of release
Could free his travels and afflictions deep.
Daniel's Civil War.
Glad we returned up to the coasts of light,
Ere sabbath ev'ning. Milton.
Nor can his blessed soul look down from heaven,
Or break the eternal sabbath of his rest,
To see her miseries on earth. Dryden.
The appointment and observance of the sabbatical
year, and, after the seventh sabbatical year, a year
of jubilee, is a circumstance of great moment.
Forbes.
Peaceful sleep out the sabbath of the tomb,
And wake to raptures in a life to come. Pope.
SABBATH, Heb. H31P, i. e. rest. The seventh
day was so denominated, because in it God had
rested from his works of creation. From that
time the seventh day was set apart for religious
services; and, by a particular injunction, was
afterwards observed by the Hebrews as a holy
day. They were commanded to set it apart for
sacred purposes in honor of the creation being
completed in six days, God resting on the
seventh.
The importance of the institution may be ga-
thered from the different laws respecting it.
When the ten commandments were published
from Mount Sinai, the law of the Sabbath held
a place in what is commonly called the first
tulile, and by subsequent statutes the violation
of it was punished with death. Six days were
allowed for the service of man; but the seventh
God reserved to himself, and appointed it to be
observed as a stated time for holy offices, and
the duties of piety and devotion. On this day
the ministers of the temple entered upon their
week ; and those who had attended on the tem-
ple service the preceding week went out at the
same time. New loaves of show-bread were
placed upon the golden table, and the old ones
taken away. Two lambs for a burnt-offering,
with a certain proportion of fine flour mingled
with oil, and wine for a libation, were offered.
The Sabbath too was celebrated from evening to
evening. It began at six in the evening on
Friday, and ended at the same time the next
day. Concerning the time at which the Sab-
bath day was first instituted, different opinions
have been held, some have maintained that the
sanctincaion of the seventh day, mentioned in
Gen ii., is only there spoken of Jio 7rpo\«i//tv, or
by anticipation ; and is to be understood of the
Sabbath afterwards enjoined the children of
Israel. But it cannot be supposed that the in-
spired penman would have mentioned the sanc-
tification of the seventh day amongst the pri-
meval transactions, if such sanctitication had
not taken place until 2500 years afterwards.
From the accounts we have of the religious
service practised in the patriarchal age, it ap-
pears that, immediately after the fall, when Adam
was restored to favor through a mediator, a stated
form of public worship was instituted, which
man was required to observe, in testimony, not
only of his dependence on the Creator, but also
of his faith and hope in the promise made to
our first parents, and seen afar off. It is no ob-
jection to the early institution of the Sabbath
that it is not mentioned in the history of
the patriarchal age. When Moses wrote the
book of Genesis it was unnecessary to relate
minutely transactions and institutions already
well known by tradition; accordingly we see
that his narrative is every where very concise,
and calculated only to preserve the memory of
the most important facts. The sabbath is first
taken notice of as a well known solemnity ; and
the incidental manner in which it is mentioned is
a convincing proof that the Israelites were no
strangers to the institution ; for, had it been a
new one, it must have been enjoined in a positive
and particular manner, and the nature of it must
have been laid open and explained, otherwise the
term would have conveyed no meaning.
The division of time into weeks, or periods
of seven days, which obtained so early and al-
most universally, is a strong indication that one
day in seven was always distinguished in a par-
ticular manner. God commanded Noah, seven
days before he entered the ark, to introduce into
it all sorts of living creatures. When the waters
of the flood began to abate, Noah sent forth a
dove, which, finding no rest for the sole of her
foot, returned to him. After seven days he sent
forth the dove a second time ; again she returned
to the ark, &c. This septenary division of time
has been, from the earliest ages, uniformly ob-
served over all the eastern world. The Assy-
rians, Egyptians, Arabians, and Persians, made
use of a week, consisting of seven days. Many
vain attempts have been made to account for this
uniformity ; but a practice so general and preva-
lent could never have taken place had not the
septenary distribution of time been instituted
from the beginning, and handed down by tradi-
tion. From the same source also must the an-
cient heathens have derived their notions of the
sacredness of the seventh day. That they had
such notions of it is evident from several pas-
sages of the Greek poets, quoted by Aristobulus,
a learned Jew, by Clement of Alexandria, and
Eusebius.
wpov
The seventh, the sacred day.
Ilcsiod.
upov t)fiap.
Homer.
Afterwards came the seventh, the sacred day.
That they likewise held the number seven in
high estimation has been also shown. The Py-
thagoreans call it the venerable number, ai^aautt
a£ioc, worthy of veneration, and held it to be
perfect and most proper to religion. These facts
can be accounted for only by admitting the
primeval institution of the Sabbath, as related
by Moses in the book of Genesis. That institu-
tion was absolutely necessary to preserve amori;::
men a sense of religion ; and it was renewed to.
SAB
214
SAB
the Jews at the giving of the law, and its ob-
servance enforced by the severest penalties. It
was accordingly observed by them with more or
less strictness in every period of their common-
wealth and kingdom ; and there is no one of the
institutions of their divine lawgiver which, in
their present state of dispersion, they more
highly honor. In the time of the Maccabees
they carried their respect for the Sabbath so very
high that they would not on that day defend
themselves from the attacks of their enemies.
But afterwards they did not scruple to stand
upon their necessary defence, although they
vrould do nothing to prevent the enemy from
carrying On their operations. When our Saviour
was on earth, it was no sin to loose a beast from
the stall, and lead him to water ; and, if he had
chanced to fall into a ditch, they pulled him out:
but now it is absolutely unlawful to give a crea-
ture in that situation any other assistance than
that of food. Their various ceremonies are so
trifling, superstitious, and ridiculous, that we
think it would be disgracing a work of science
to take up room with them. Vide Buxtorfs
Judaica Synagoga ; and Allen's Modern Judaism.
As the seventh day was observed by the
Jewish church, in memory of the rest of God
after the works of creation, so the first day of
the week has always been observed by the Chris-
tian church, in memory of the resurrection" of
Jesus Christ, by which he completed the work
of man's redemption on earth, and rescued him
from the dominion of him who has the power of
death. This day was denominated by the primi-
tive Christians the Lord's Day, or Sunday, but
it was never styled the Sabbath ; a name solely
appropriated to Saturday, or the seventh day,
both by sacred and ecclesiastical writers. Of
the change from the seventh to the first day of
the week, or even of the institution of the Lord's
Day festival, there is no account in the New Tes-
tament. However, it may be fairly inferred
from it that the first day of the week was, in the
apostolic age, a stated time for public worship.
On this day the apostles were assembled, when
the Holy Ghost came down so visibly upon them
to qualify them for the conversion of the world.
On this day we find St. Paul preaching at Troas,
when the disciples came to break bread : and
the directions which the same apostle gives to
the Corinthians, concerning their contributions
for the relief of their suffering brethren, plainly
allude to their religious assemblies on the first
day of the week. From the consentient evidence
and uniform practice of the primitive church,
and also from the attestation of Pliny, we find
that the first day of the week was observed in
the earliest ages as a holy day or festival, in
honor of the resurrection of Christ. In the
early ages this day was occupied in a constant
atlendance on all the offices of divine worship.
On it they held their religious assemblies, in
which the writings of the apostles and prophets
were read to the people, and the doctrines of
Christianity pressed upon them by the exhorta-
tions of the clergy. Solemn prayers and praises
were offered up to God, and hymns sung in
honor of Christ ; the Lord's supper was cele-
brated ; and collections were made for the main-
tenance of the clergy and the relief of the poor
On this day they abstained, as much as they
could, from bodily labor. They looked upon
it as a day of joy and gladness ; and therefore
all fasting on it was prohibited, even during
Lent, their gieat annual fast. — Such was the zeal
of those times that nothing, no, not the severest
persecutions, hindered them from celebrating
holy offices on this day ; and, when they could
not meet in the day time, they assembled in the
morning before it was light. When the empire
became Christian, Constantine and his successors
made laws for the more solemn observation of
the Lord's day. They prohibited all prosecu-
tions and pleadings, and other juridical matters,
to be transacted on it, and also all unnecessary
labor.
SABBATH BREAKING, or profanation of the
Lord's day, is punished by the municipal laws
of England. The keeping one day in seven holy.
as a time of relaxation and refreshment, as well
as for public worship, is of great service to a state,
considered merely as a civil institution. The
laws of king Athelstan forbad all merchandising
on the Lord's day, under very severe penalties.
And by the statute 27 Henry VI., c. 5, no fair
or market shall be held on the principal festivals,
Good Friday, or any Sunday (except the four
Sundays in harvest), on pain of forfeiting the
goods exposed to sale. And by the statute 1
Car. I., c. 1 , no persons shall assemble, out of
their own parishes, for any sport whatsoever,
upon this day ; nor, in their parishes, shall use
any bull or bear beating, interludes, plays, or
other unlawful exercises or pastimes, on pain
that every offender shall pay 3s. 4d. to the poor.
By statute 29 Car. II., c. 7, no person is allowed
to work on the Lord's day, or use any boat or
barge, or expose any goods to sale, except meat
in public houses, milk at certain hours, and
works of necessity or charity, on forfeiture of 5s.
SABBATH DAY'S JOURNEY, a measure, amonvr
the ancient Jews, of 729 English paces and three
feet; or 200O cubits; or 3648 feet.
SABBATICAL YEAR, or the year of jubilee, among
the ancient Jews, was every seventh year ; in
which it was unlawful to till the ground, and all
slaves were set at liberty, except those who pre-
ferred continuing in service to freedom. There
was also a grand sabbatical year held by the Jews
with uncommon splendor every forty-ninth year :
though some commentators assert it was held tin-
fiftieth year. See JUBILEE.
SABEANS, in ancient history, a tribe of
Arabs, descended from Sheba, the son of Cush,
or from Sheba, the son of Raaroah, and grandson
of Cush. . They inhabited the country culled
Saba or Sheba ; they carried off Job's cattle, and
were afterwards conquered by Cyrus.
SABEANS, in ecclesiastical history, a sect of
Christian heretics, who held mixed doctrines dc»
rived from Christianity, Judaism, Mahometanism,
and Paganism. They adopted baptism after
the example, and in commemoration of, John
the Baptist; but did not administer it in the
name of the Trinity. They have four sacraments ;
baptism, the eucharist, orders, and marriage.
Both ministers and laity are allowed two wives,
-till retain some knowledge of the gospel;
SAB
215
SAB
but their superstitious ceremonies and frequent
washings are supposed to be of Jewish origin,
and derived from the Hemerobaptists, who had
a -;hief of the name of John.
SABELLI, an ancient people of Italy, de-
scended from the Sabines, or, as others say, of
the Samnites. They inhabited that part of Italy
which lay between the Sabines and the Marsi.
SABELLIANS, in ecclesiastical history, a
sect of the third century, who embraced the
opinions of Sabellius. They maintained that the
Word and the Holy Spirit are only virtues, ema-
nations, or functions of the Deity ; and held that
he who is in heaven is the Father and Creator of
all things, that he, through the virgin, became a
child ; and that, having accomplished the mys-
tery of our salvation, he diffused himself on the
apostles in tongues of fire, and was then denomi-
nated the Holy Ghost. This they explained by
resembling God to the sun, the illuminative vir-
tue or quality of which was the Word, and its
warming virtue the Holy Spirit. The Word,
they taught, was darted like a divine ray, to ac-
complish the work of redemption ; and that,
being re-ascended to heaven, the influences of
the Father were communicated after a like man-
ner to the apostles. They were anathematised in
a council held at Constantinople, A. D. 381.
SABELLICUS (Mark Anthony Coccins), a
learned Italian, born at a small town upon the
Teveron, in the fifteenth century. He became
professor of belles lettres at Vicenza, and died
in the seventieth year of his age.
SABELLIUS, an ancient philosopher of Egypt,
the founder of the sect of the Sabellians, was a na-
tive of Libya. He first broached his doctrines
in the third century, about the year 255, in Pto-
lemais. He taught, according to Epiphanius,
that the same person is Father, Son, and Holy
Ghost ; so that there are only three denomina-
tions in one hypostasis or subsistence ; or) as in
man, body, soul, and spirit. This author says
that the Sabellians agreed with the Noetians, ex-
cept in one thing, viz. that they said the Father
did not suffer. Theodoret's account of Sabellius
is, that he taught the Father, and the Son, and
the Holy Spirit, to be one hypostasis or subsis-
tence, and one person with three names ; that he
speaks of the same sometimes as Father, some-
times as Son, and sometimes as Holy Ghost.
SABIA, a country of Eastern Africa, to the
south of Sofala, traversed by a river of the same
name, which falls into the Indian Ocean.
Slaves, ivory, and gold dust, may be procured
here.
SABIANS, or SAB^ANS, an ancient sect of
idolaters, who worshipped the sun. Some critics
derive the name from the Hebrew Tsaba, a host
or army, because they worshipped the host of
heaven, the Tsaba hememim, against which
idolatry Moses cautions the Israelites. The
word is sometimes also written Sabaites, Za-
beeans, Zabians, Zabaites, Tsabaeans, Tsabians,
and Tsabaists. Mahomet, in the Koran, and
the Arabian authors since him, make frequent
'mention of them. Beidavius, in his comment
on the Koran, represents them as a kind of mean
between the Christians ana the Magusians, who
«re trie followers of the Magi among the Persians :
he adds, that they pretend to be of the religion
of Noah. Some charge them with worshipping
the stars; and others the angels or demons.
Maimonides attributes both to them.
Sale, in his preliminary discourse to the Koran,
has given the following brief account of the
tenets and worship of this sect : — They believe
in the existence of one God, though they also
pay an adoration to the stars, or the angels and
intelligences which they suppose reside in them,
and govern the world under the supreme Deity.
They endeavour to perfect themselves in the
four intellectual virtues, and believe the souls of
wicked men will be punished for 9000 ages, but
will afterwards be received to mercy. They are
obliged to pray three times a day, before sun-
rise, before noon, and before sun-set; and in
praying they turn their faces, as some say, to the
north ; according to others to the south, to Mec-
ca, or to the star to which they pay their devo-
tion. They have three fasts in the year; the
first lasts thirty days, the second nine days, and
the last seven. They offer many sacrifices, of
which they eat no part, but wholly burn them.
They abstain from beans, garlic, and some other
pulse and vegetables.
SABINA (Julia), a Roman lady, who married
the emperor Adrian, by advice of Plotina, Tra-
jan's widow. She is celebrated for her .virtues,
but was ill used by her husband, though she as-
sisted in raising him to the empire. Some say
he even poisoned her. She had been thirty-eight
years married to him when she died A. D. 138.
SA'BINE, n. s. Fr. sabine; Lat. sabina. A
plant.
' Sabine or savin will make fine hedges, and may be
brought into any form by clipping much beyond
trees. Mortimer.
SABINE, or SAVIN. See JUNIPERUS.
SABINES, or SABINI, an ancient nation of
Italy, reckoned among the Aborigines. Some,
however, say they were originally a colony of
Spartans, who settled in that part of Italy.
Their territories were situated in the neighbour-
hood of Rome between the Nar and the Anio,
and bounded on the north by the Appennines and
Umbria; east by the dominions of the JEqui ;
south by Latium; and west by Etruria. Their
chief cities were Cures, Fidenae, Crustumerium,
Collatia, Corniculum, Nomentum, and Reate.
The greatest part of the neighbouring nations
were descended from them ; particularly the
Sabelli, the Samnites, the Umbrians, yEqui,
Brutii, Marsi, &c. Under their king Titus
Tatius they made war with the Romans under
Romulus, on account of the rape of their virgins ;
but, after several battles, the war was put an end
to by the women on whose account it was com-
menced, who by this time were attached to their
Roman husbands ; a peace was concluded, the
nations united, and Romulus and Tatius reigned
jointly for six years over both nations, till Tatius
was killed. See ROME. After this they occa-
sionally revolted, but were finally subdued and
incorporated as Roman citizens about A. U.C.
373.
SABINUS, a native of Sparta, the founder of
the Sabine nation, to whom he gave name. He
was deified after his death.
SAB
216
SAB
SABINUS (Flavius), a brother of the emperor
Vespasian, famed for his fidelity to Vitellius.
He commanded the Roman armies thirty-five*
years, and governed Home twelve years ; but
was killed irt an insurrection of the people.
SABINUS (Julius), a Roman commander, who
proclaimed himself emperor, in opposition to
Vespasian, but, being defeated soon after, hid
himself for nine years in a cave, attended by his
wife and two faithful domestics ; but being dis-
covered he was dragged before Vespasian, and
by his order put to death, though his wife en-
deavoured to excite Vespasian's compassion, by
sliDwing him the twins she had borne in the cave.
SABINUS (Francis Floridus), a learned writer,
who flourished soon after the restoration of let-
ters in Europe. His chief works are, In Calum-
niatores IMauti et aliorum linguae Latinae scrip-
sorum apologia, Basil, 1540; and Lectionum
Successivarum libri tres. Franc. 1602, 8vo. He
died in 1547.
SABINUS (George), a celebrated Latin poet,
born in the electorate of Brandenburg in 1508.
His poem, Res gestae Caesarum Germanorum,
spread his reputation all over Germany, and pro-
cured him the patronage of several princes ; he
was made professor of the belles lettres at Frank-
fort on the Oder, rector of the academy of Ko-
nigsburg, and counsellor to the elector of Bran-
denburg. He married two wives, the first was
the eldest daughter of the famous reformer Me-
lancthon. He died in 1560. His poems have
been often printed.
SABIONCELLO, or SABIONEIRA, a penin-
sula of Austrian Dalmatia, having the islands of
Cufzolo and Meleda on the south, and on the
north the island of Lesina, from which it is sepa-
rated by a part of the gulf of Venice called the
Canal of Sabioncello, or the Stagno. Forty-five
miles north-west of Ragusa.
SABIONETTA, a town of Mantuan, now
Austrian Italy, with a castle. It was for a time
the capital of a principality of the same name,
given in 1806, by an imperial decree of Buona-
parte, to his sister Paulina, and her husband, the
prince Borghese, duke of Guastalla. Nineteen
miles S. S. W. of Mantua. Inhabitants 6000.
SA'BLE, n. a. & adj. Fr. sable; Swed. subel ;
Lat. zibella. Fur ; black.
By this the drooping daylight 'gan to fade,
And yield bis room to sad succeeding night,
Who with her sable mantle 'gan to shade
Che face of earth, and ways of living wight.
Faerie Queene.
Furiously running in upon him with timultuous
speech, he violently rauglit from his head his rich
cap of tables. Knolles.
Sable is worn of great personages, and brought out
of Russia, being the fur of a little beast of .that
name, esteemed for the perfectness of the colour of
the hairs, which are very black. Hence sable, in
heraldry, signifies the black colour in gentlemen's
arms. Peacham on Blazoning.
With him inthroned
Sat jafek-vested night, eldest of things,
The consort of his reign. Mdtont Paradise Lott.
They soon begin that tragick play,
Ami with their smoky cannons banish day :
Muht, horrour, slaughter, with confusion meet,
And in their sable arms embrace the flee*. Wallrr.
Adoring first the genius of the place,
And night, and all the stars that gild her sable
tli rone. Dryiien.
The peacock's plumes thy tackle must not fail,
Nor the dear purchase of the sable's tail. Gay.
SABLE, in heraldry, signifies black; and, in
engraving, is expressed by horizontal and perpen-
dicular lines crossing <:ach other. Alexander
Nisbet says that ' the duke of Anjou, king of
Sicily, after the loss of that kingdom, appeared
at a tournament in Germany all in black, with
his shield of that tincture, seme de larmes, i. e.
sprinkled with drops of water to represent tears,
indicating by that both his grief and loss.
SABLE, in zoology. See MUSTELA. The
chase of these animals, in the more barbarous
times of the Russian empire, was the employ, or
rather task of the unhappy exiles in Siberia.
As that country is now become more populous,
the sables have in a great measure quitted it, and
retired north and east to live in desert forests
and mountains ; they live near the banks of
rivers, or in the little islands in them ; on this
account they have by some been supposed to be
the 2a/3fptov of Aristotle (Hist. An. lib. viii. -c.
5), which he classes with the animals conversant
among waters. The hunters of sables formed
themselves into troops, from five to forty each ;
the last subdivided into lesser parties, and each
chooses a leader, but one directs the whole ; a
small covered boat is provided for each party,
loaded with provisions, a dog and net for every
two men, and a vessel to bake their bread in ;
each party has also an interpreter for the country
they penetrate into. Every party then sets out
according to the course their chief points out ;
they go against the stream of the rivers, drawing
their boats up, till they arrive in the hunting
country ; there they stop, build huts, and wait
till the waters are frozen, and the season com-
mences. They then penetrate into the woods ;
mark the trees as they advance, that they may
know their way back; and in their hunting
quarters form huts of trees, and bank up the
snow round them ; near these they lay their
traps; then advance farther, and lay more traps,
still building new huts in every quarter, and re-
turn successively to every old one to visit the
traps and take out the game to skin it, which the
chief of the party alone must do; during this
time they are supplied with provisions by persons
who are employed to bring it on sledges, from
the places on the road, where they are obliged to
form magazines The traps are a sort of pit-fall,
with a loose board placed over it, baited with
fish or flesh ; when sables grow scarce the
hunters trace them in the new-fallen snow to their
holes ; place their nets at the entrance ; and
sometimes wait two or three days for the com-
ing out of the animal. The season of chase being
over, the hunters re-assemble, make a report to
their leader of the number of sables each has
taken ; share the booty ; then continue at the
head-quarters till the rivers are clear of ice ; and
afterwards return home.
SABLES, D'OLUNE DES, a port in the west
of France, in La Vendee. It is well built, and
has a harbour capable of admitting vessds <>f
r<«ii -u'crable siv.e. Tho chief traffic is in ba)
SAC
217
SAC
salt, corn, and cattle. It has an extensive fishery
of pilchards. Inhabitants 5200. Forty-five
miles south of Nantes.
SABLIERE (Anthony), de Rambouille de la, a
French poet, who died in Paris in 1680. His
Madrigals, which are much celebrated, were
published after his death by his son.
SABOLCS, a palatinate of the east of Hun-
gary, bounded on the west and north by the river
Theyss. It has a superficial extent of 2120
square miles, consisting entirely of level ground ;
in part covered with sand, and another part with
small lakes, of so little depth as to dry up in
«ummer, when soda is founa in the bottom. The
Theyss often overflows its banks, and causes
jreat ravages ; yet this district produces large
quantities of corn, tobacco, and fruit. The chief
town is Nagy Kallo, and the inhabitants of the
palatinate, amounting to 135,000, are Calvinists.
SABON, an island of a triangular form, at
the south entrance of the straits of Malacca. It
is about twenty-four miles in circumference, and
separated from the island of Sumatra by a navi-
gable channel, called the Straits of Sabon. Long.
103° 21' E., lat. 0° 42' N.
SA'BRE, n. s. Fr. sabre. I suppose of
Turkish original, says Johnson : and we have
Span, table ; Arab. self. A cymetar ; a short
sword with a convex edge; a falchion.
To me the cries of fighting fields are charms ;
Keen be my sulre, and of proof my arms ;
1 ask no other blessing of my stars,
A'o prize but fame, no mistress but the wars.
Dry den.
Seamed o'er with wounds, which his own sabre
gave,
In the vile habit of a village slave,
The foe deceived. Pitpe's Odyssey.
SABRE, a kitid of sword with a very broad and
heavy blade, thick at the back, and a little fal-
cated or crooked towards the point : it is gene-
rally worn by the heavy cavalry. The grena-
diers, belonging to the whole of the French
infantry, are likewise armed with sabres. The
blade is not so long as that of a small sword,
but it is nearly twice as broad . French hussars
wear the curved ones somewhat longer than
those of the grenadiers.
SABRE-TASCHE, from the Ger. tasche,
pocket. An appointment or part of accoutrement
which has been adopted for the use and conveni-
ence of dragoon officers. It consists of a pocket
which is suspended from the sword-belt on the
left side, by three slings to correspond with the
belt. It is usually of an oblong shape scolloped
at the bottom with a device in the centre, and a
broad lace round the edge. The color of it always
corresponds with that of the uniform.
SAC^E, an ancient people of Scythia, who in-
habited the country east of Bactriana and Sog-
diana, north of Mount Imaus. Thpy lived in
tents and built no towns. Ptol. vi. 13, Herod,
iii. c. 93.
SACJEA, a feast which the ancient Babylo-
nians and other orientals held annually in honor
of the deity Anaitas. The Sacsea were in the
east what the Saturnalia were at Rome, viz. a
feast for the slaves. One of the ceremonies was
to choose a prisoner condemned to death, and
allow him all the pleasures and gratifications he
could wish before he was carried to execution.
SACCANIA, one of the four provinces into
which the Peloponnesus or Morea was divided
by the Turks. It is bounded by the piovince
of Zakounia (the ancient Laconia) by the isth-
mus of Corinth, and the gulfs of Lepanto, Egina,
and Napoli, and comprehends the ancient terri-
tories of Corinth, Sicyon, and Argos, forming
the north-east part of the Morea. See GREECE.
SAC'CHARINE, adj. Lat. saccharum. Hav-
ing the taste, or any other of the chief qualities
of sugar.
Manna is an essential saccharine salt, sweating
from the leaves of most plants.
Arbuthnot on Aliments.
SACCHAROMETER, the name of an instru-
ment for ascertaining the value of worts, and the
strength of different kinds of malt liquors. It is
merely an hydrometer contrived to ascertain the
specific gravity of worts, or rather to compare
the weight of worts with that of equal quantities
of the liquor employed in the brewery. The
principle is as follows : — The menstruum or
water employed by the brewer becomes heavier
or more dense by the addition of such parts of
the materials as have been dissolved or extracted
by, and thence incorporated with it : the opera-
tion of boiling, and its subsequent cooling, still
adds to the density of it by evaporation : so that,
when it is submitted to the action of fermenta-
tion, it is more dense than at any other period.
In passing through this operation a remarkable
alteration takes place. The fluid no sooner be-
gins to ferment than its density begins to dimi-
nish ; and, as the fermentation is more or less
perfect, the fermentable matter becomes more
or less attenuated; and, in lieu of every particle
thus attenuated, a spirituous particle, of less
density than water, is produced ; so that when
the liquor is again in a state of quietude, it is so
much specifically lighter than it was before, as
the act of fermentation has been capable of atte-
nuating the component parts of its acquired
density.
SACCHARUM, the sugar cane, in botany, a
genus of the digynia order and triandria class of
plants ; natural order fourth, gramina : CA L. none
but a long down : COR. bivalved. Species ele-
ven ; the chief is, S. officinarum, called by for-
mer botanists arundo saccharifera. It is a na-
tive of Africa, the East Indies, and of Brazil ;
whence it was introduced into our West India
islands soon after they were settled. For the
process of making sugar, see SUGAR.
SACCHI (Andrew), a celebrated painter,
born at Rome in 1594. He was the disciple of
Francis Albano, whom he afterwards surpassed
in taste and correctness. He distinguished him
self by his paintings in fresco, and arrived at a
high degree of perfection. The works of Sacchi
are finished with uncommon care and skill. He
died in r668.
SACCHOLACTIC ACID. See MUCJC ACID.
SACERDOTAL, adj. Lat. sacerdotalis.
Priestly; belonging to the priesthood.
They have several offices and prayers, especially
for the dead, in which functions they use sacerdvtm
garments. StilUnpfeet.
SAC
218
SAC
He fell violently upon me, without respect to my
tticfdotal orders. Drtiden'i SpanUi Fryar.
If ample powers, granted by the rulers of this
world, add dignity to the persons intrusted with
these powers, behold the importance and extent of
the sacerdotal commission. Atterbury.
SACHEVERELL (Dr. Henry), a clergyman
of the Tory faction in the reign of queen Anne ;
who distinguished himself by his sermons and
writings against the dissenters. He owed his
consequence, however, to being indiscreetly pro-
secuted by the house of lords for his assize ser-
mon at Derby, and his sermon on the 5th of
November, at St. Paul's, in 1709; in which he
asserted the doctrine of non-resistance to govern-
ment in its utmost extent ; and reflected severely
on the act of toleration. The high and low
church parties were then very violent, and
Sacheverell's trial inflamed the high church
party to dangerous riots and excesses ; he was,
however, suspended for three years, and his ser-
mons burned by the common hangman. The
Tories being in administration when his suspen-
sion expired, he was freed with every mark of
honor and public rejoicing ; was ordered to
preach before the commons on the 29th of May,
had the thanks of the house for his discourse,
and obtained the valuable rectory of St. Andrew's
Holborn.
SACHTLEVEN (Cornelius and Herman),
two celebrated Dutch painters. Herman was
the most eminent. He was born at Rotterdam,
in 1609, and was the disciple of Van Goyen.
His pictures are rare and valuable. He died in
1685.
SACK, n. t. Sav.a-l Sax. j-aec ; Heb. par ;
SACK-CLOTH, n. s. S Or. (TGUCKOC ; Lat. saccus.
It is observable of this word, says Dr. Johnson,
that it is found in all languages, and it is therefore
conceived to be antediluvian. A bag; a pouch;
commonly a large bag ; to put in bags ; hence to
plunder ; pillage : and, as a noun substantive, the
storm of a town : sack-cloth explains itself.
Thus with tack-cloth I invest my woe,
And dust upon my clouded forehead throw.
Sandys.
Edward Bruce spoiled all the old English pale in-
habitants, and sacked and raised all cities and corpo-
rate towns. Spenser.
Vastius caused the authors of that mutiny to be
thrust into sacks, and in the sight of the fleet cast
into the sea. K nolle*.
Our tacks shall be a mean to sack the city :
And we be lords and rulers over Roan.
Shakspeare. Henry VI.
I'll make thee stoop and bend thy knee,
Or sack this country with a mutiny. Id.
What armies conquered, perished with thy sword ?
What cities sacked ? Fairfax.
Who sees these dismal heaps, but would demand
What barbarous invader tacked the land ? Denham.
If Saturn's son bestows
Thy sack of Troy, which he by promise owes,
Then shall the conquering Greeks thy loss restore.
Dry den.
Now the great work is done, the corn is ground,
The grist is sacked, and every tack well bound.
Relterton.
The pope himself was ever after unfortunate,
Rome being twice taken and sacked in his reign.
St-uth.
The great magazine for all kinds of treasure is the
bed of the Tiber : when the Romans lay under the
apprehensions of seeing their city sacked by a bar-
barous enemy, they would take care to bestow such
of their riches this way as could best bear the water.
Addison.
Being clad in sackcloth, he was to lie on the ground,
and constantly day and night implore God's mercy
for the sin he had committed. Ayliffe's Parergon.
Wood goes about with suckfuU of dross, odiously
misrepresenting his prince's countenance. Suiift.
Coarse stuff made of goats hair, of a dark colour,
worn by soldiers and mariners ; and used as a habit
among the Hebrews in times of mourning. Called
sackcloth, either because saris were made of this sort
of stuff, or because haircloths were straight and close
like a sack. Calmet.
SACK. Fr. sec. Of uncertain etymology
A kind of sweet wine, now brought chiefly from
the Canaries. The sack of Shakspeare is be-
lieved to be what is now called sherry.
Pleash you drink a cup of sack. Shaktptare.
The butler hath great advantage to allure the
maids with a glass of sack. Swift.
Snuff the candles at supper on the table, because
the burning snuff may fall into a dish of soup or
sackpossel. Id.
SACK was a wine used by our ancestors, which
some have taken to be Rhenish, and some Ca-
nary wine. Venner, in his Via Recta ad Vitam
Longam, printed in 1628, says ' that sack, taken
by itself, is very hot and very penetrative; being
taken with sugar, the heat is both somewhat al-
layed, and the penetrative quality thereof also
retarded.' He adds that Rhenish, &c., decline
after a year, but sack and the other stronger
wines are best when they are two or three years
old. It appears probable that sack was not a
sweet wine, from its being taken with sugar, and
that it did not receive its name from having a
saccharine flavor, but from its being originally
stored in sacks or borachios. It does not ap-
pear to have been a French wine, but a strong
wine, the production of a hot climate. Perhaps
it was what is called dry mountain, or some •
Spanish wine of that kind. This is the more
probable, as Howell, in his French and English
Dictionary, 1650, translates sack by vin d Es-
pagne, vin sec.
SACK'BUT, n. s. FT.sambuque; Span, taea-
buche ; Lat. tumbuca. A kind of pipe.
The trumpets, sackbuts, psalteries, and fife,
Make the sun dance. Shakspeare. Coriolanus.
The SACKBUT is a musical instrument of the
wind kind, being a sort of trumpet, though
different from the common trumpet both in form
and size ; it is fit to play a bass, and is contrived
to be drawn out or shortened, according to the
tone required, whether grave or acute. The
Italians call it trombone.
SACKVILLE (Thomas), lord Buckhurst, and
earl of Dorset, a statesman and poet, was born
in 1536. He was sent to Hurt Hall in Oxford,
in the end of the reign of Edward VI., whence
he removed to Cambridge, where he took the
degree of M. A., and thence to the Inner Tem-
ple, where he studied the law, and was called to
the bar. He commenced poet whilst at the
universities, and his juvenile productions were
much admired. About the fourth year of queen
SAC
219
SAC
Mary, he was a member of the house of com-
mons. In 1 557 he wrote a poem entitled The
Induction, or the Mirror of Magistrates. In
1551 his tragedy of Gorboduc was acted before
queen Elizabeth by the gentlemen of the Inner
Temple. In the first parliament of Elizabeth's
reign Mr. Sackville was member for Sussex,
and for Bucks in the second. In the mean time
he made the tour of France and Italy, and in
1566 was imprisoned at Rome, when his father
died ; by which he became possessed of a very
considerable fortune. Having obtained his li-
berty, be returned to England ; and being
knighted was created lord Buckhurst. In 1570
he was sent ambassador to France. In 1586 he
was one of the commissioners appointed to try
the unfortunate Mary queen of Scots ; and was
employed to report the confirmation of her
sentence, and to see it executed. In 1587 he
went ambassador to the states general, in conse-
quence of their complaint against the earl of
Leicester ; who, disliking his impartiality, pre-
vailed on the queen to recal him, and he was
confined to his house. In this confinement he
continued ten months, when, Leicester dying, he
\v;is restored to favor, and in 1580 was installed
knight of the garter ; but the greatest proof of
tho queen's partiality for him appeared in 1591,
when she caused him to be elected chancellor
of the university of Oxford, in opposition to her
favorite Essex. In 1 598, on the treasurer Bur-
leigh's death, lord Buckhurst succeeded him,
and became in effect prime minister; and when,
in 1601, the earls of Essex and Southampton
were brought to trial, he sat as lord high steward.
On the accession of James I. he had the office
of lord high treasurer confirmed to him for life,
and was created earl of Dorset. He continued
in high favor with the king till his death, which
happened suddenly on the 19th of April, 1608,
in the council chamber at Whitehall. He was
interred in Westminster Abbey.
SACKVILLE (Charles), earl of Dorset, a cele-
brated wit and poet, was born in 1637. He was
one of the libertines of king Charles II.'s court,
and indulged in inexcusable excesses. He
openly discountenanced the violent measures of
James II., and engaged early for the prince of
Orange, by whom he was made lord chamber-
lain of the household, and a member of the privy
council. He died in 1Y06, and left several
poetical pieces, which were published among
the works of the minor poets in 1749.
SAC'RAMENT, n.s. ^ Fr. sacrament ; Lat-
SAC'RAMENTAL, adj. > sacramentum. An
SAC'RAMENTALLY, adv. j oath; any ceremony
producing an obligation; an outward and visible
sign of an inward and spiritual grace : the ad-
jective and adverb corresponding.
As often as we mention a sacrament, it is impro-
perly understood ; for in the writings of the ancient
fathers all articles which are peculiar to Christian
faith, all duties of religion containing that which
sense or natural reason cannot discern, are most com-
monly named sacraments. Hooker.
To make complete the outward substance of a sa-
crament, there is required an outward form, which
form' sacramental efements receive from sacramental
words. Id.
Ten thousand French have ta'en the sacratnent
To drive their dangerous artillery
Upon no Christian soul but English Talbot.
fihakspeare. Henry VL,
As we have ta'en the sacrament,
We will unite the white rose with the red.
Id. Richard 111.
My body is sacrcmentally contained in this sacra-
ment of bread. Hall.
The law of circumcision was meant by God sacra-
mentally to impress the duty of strict purity.
Hammond.
The words of St. Paul are plain ; and, whatever
interpretation can be put upon them, it can only vary
the way of the sacramental efficacy, but it cannot
evacuate the blessing. Taylor.
Before the famous battle of Cressy, he spent the
greatest part of the night in prayer , and in the morn-
ing received the sacrament, with his son, and the chief
of his officers. Addinm.
SACRAMENT is derived from the Latin sacra-
mentum, which signifies an oath, particularly the
oath taken by soldiers to be true to their country
and general. The words of it, according to
Polybius were, obtemperaturus sum et faclur . ,
quicquid mandabitur ab imperatoribus juxta
vires. The word was adopted by the "writers of
the Latin church, and employed, perhaps with
no great propriety, to denote those ordinances
of religion by which Christians came under an
obligation, equally sacred with that of an oath,
to observe their part of the covenant of grace,
and in which they have the assurance of Chri ,t
that he will fulfil his part of it. Of sacramen s
in this sense of the word, Protestant churches
admit of but two; and it is not easy to conceive
how a greater number can be made out from
Scripture, if the definition of a sacrament be
just which is given by the church of England.
By that church the meaning of the word is
declared to be ' an outward and visible sign 6 '
an inward and spiritual grace given unto us,
ordained by Christ himself as a means whereby
we receive the same, and a pledge to assure us
thereof; According to this definition, baptism
and the Lord's supper are certainly sacraments ;
for each answers the definition in the fullest
sense of the words. See BAPTISM and SUPPER
OF THE LORD. The Romanists, however, add
to this number confirmation, penance, extreme
unction, ordination, and marriage, holding in all
seven sacraments ; but two of those rites, not
being peculiar to the Christian church, cannot
be Christian sacraments, in contradistinction to
the sacraments or obligations into which men of
all religions enter. Marriage was instituted from
the creation (see MARRIAGE) ; and penance or
repentance has a place in all religions which
teach that God is merciful and men fallible.
The external severities imposed upon penitents
by the church of Rome (see PENANCE) may
indeed be in some respects peculiar to the dis-
cipline of that church", though the penances of
the Hindoos are certainly as rigid ; but none of
these severities were ordained by Christ, as the
pledge of an inward and spiritual grace ; nor do
they bring men under obligations analogous to
the meaning of the word sacramentum. Confir-
mation has a better title to the appellation than
any of the other five ; though it certainly was
SAC
220
SAC
not considered as such by the earliest writers of
the Christian church, nor does it appear to have
been ordained by Christ himself. See CONFIR-
MATION. Ordination is by many churches con-
sidered as a very important rite ; but as it is not
administered to all men, nor has any particular
form appropriated to it in the New Testament,
it cannot be considered as a Christian sacrament
conferring grace necessary to salvation. Extreme
unction is a rite which took its rise from the
miraculous powers of the primitive church,
vainly claimed by the succeeding clergy. These
considerations seem to have some weight with
the Homish clergy themselves ; for they call the
eucharist, by way of eminence, the holy sacra-
ment. Numerous as the sacraments of the
Romish church are, a sect of Christians sprung
up in England, early in the eighteenth century,
who increased their number. The founder was
a Dr. Deacon of Manchester, where the remains
of it subsisted very lately. According to these
men, every rite in the book called the apostolical
constitutions was certainly in use among the
apostles themselves. Still, however, they make
a distinction between the greater and the less
sacraments. The greater sacraments are baptism
and the Lord's supper. The less are no fewer
than ten ; viz. : — five belonging to baptism, ex-
orcism, anointing with oil, the white garment,
a taste of milk and honey, and anointing with
chrism or ointment. The other five are, the
sign of the cross, imposition of hands, unction
of the sick, holy orders, and matrimony. Of
the nature of these less sacraments we need give
no account. The sect which taught them, if not
extinguished, is in its last wane. It has pro-
duced, however, one or two learned men ; and
its founder's Full, True, and Comprehensive
View of Christianity, in two catechisms, is a
work 'which the Christian antiquary will read
with pleasure for information, and the philoso-
pher for the materials which it contains for me-
ditation on the workings of the human mind.
It was published in 8vo. in 1748.
SACRAMENT, CONGREGATION OF THE HOLY, a
religious establishment formed in France, whose
founder was Antherius, bishop of Bethlehem,
and which, in 1644, received an order from
Urban VIII. to have always a number of eccle^
siastics ready to exercise their ministry among
pagan nations, wherever the pope or congrega-
tion de propaganda should appoint.
SACRAMENT (St.), or Colonia, a city and
colony which was held by the Portuguese, oppo-
site the city of Buenos Ayres, on the shore of
the La l'L,a. It has a tolerable port, receiving
some shelter from the island of St. Gabriel ; yet
it is otherwise open and exposed. It was founded
by the Portuguese, in the year 1679, under Don
M intiel de Lobo, and has occasioned many
struggles between Spain and Portugal. The for-
tress of St. Gabriel, which protects the harbour,
is reckoned a strong one. Thirty-three miles
north-east from Buenos Ayres.
SACRAMENTARY, an ancient Romish
church-book, which contains all the prayers and
ceremonies practised at the celebration of the
sacraments. It was written by pope Gelasius,
and afterwards revised, corrected, and abridged,
by St. Gregory.
SACRARIUM, in archaiology, a sort of
family chapel in the houses of the Romans. It
differed from the lararium, inasmuch as that was
dedicated to all the household deities without
exception, while the sacrarium was devoted to
some particular divinity. Cicero, in his ora-
tion for Milo, speaks of the sacrarium de bona
dea. The name was also given to that particu-
lar portion of the ancient temples wherein the
sacred things were deposited.
SA'CRED, adj. f Fr. sacre ; Lat. tacer.
SA'CREDLY, adv. > Immediately relating to
SA'CREDNESS, n. s. J God ; devoted to religious
uses ; holy ; mysterious : the derivatives corre-
sponding.
Those who came to celebrate the sabbath, made a
conscience of helping themselves for the honour of
that most sacred day. Mace.
The honour's sacred, which he talks on now,
Supposing that I lackt it.
Shahspeare. Antony and Cleopatra
Poet and saint, to thee alone were given,
The two most sacred names of earth and heaven;
Cowley
Wolves shall succeed for teachers, grievous
wolves,
Who all the sacred mysteries of Heaven
To their own vile advantages shall turn. Milltm.
Smit with the love of sacred song. Id.
O'er its eastern gate was raised above
A temple sacred to the queen of love. Dryden.
Secrets of marriage still are sacred held ;
Their sweet and bitter by the wise concealed. Id.
This insinuates the sacredness of power, let the ad-
ministration of it be what it will. L'Ettrange.
When God had manifested himself in the flesh,
how sacredly did he preserve this privilege ! South.
In the sanctuary the cloud, and the oracular an-
swers, were prerogatives peculiar to the lacredtiess of
the place. Id.
Before me lay the sacred text,
The help, the guide, the balm of souls perplexed.
Arbuthnot.
SACRIF'ICABLE, adj. } Fr. sacri-
SAC'RIFICATOR, n. s. I far ; Lat. sa-
SAC'RIFICE, v. a., v. n. & n. s. > a ifico. To
SAC'RIFICER, i offer to hea-
SAC'RIFICED, adj. J ven ; to immo-
late as an atonement or propitiation : with to ;
to offer a propitiatory victim : the act of offer-
ing, or thing offered : sacrificator is a redundant
synonyme of sacrificer : the other derivatives are
sufficiently plain.
Let us go to sacrifice to the Lord. Exod. iii. 18.
He that sacrificeth of things wrongfully gotten, his
offering is ridiculous. Ecclus. xxxiv. 18.
A la rims' limbs are lopt,
And intrails feed the sacrificing fire.
Shakspeare. Titus Andronicuf.
This blood, like sacrificing Abel's, cries
To me for justice. Id. Richard II.
Upon such sacrifiet
The gods themselves throw incense.
Id, King Lear,
Let us be sacrificer*, but not butchers. .S/ akspeare.
R ain sacrificial whisperings in his ear ;
Make sacred even his stirrup. Id. Timon.
'Tis a sad contemplation that we should sacrifice
the peace of the church to a little vain curiosity.
Decay of Piety.
.Men from the herd or flock
Of facrijicing bullock, lamb, or kid. Millon.
SACRIFICE.
221
Some mischief is befallen
To that meek man who well had sacrificed. Id.
God will ordain religious rites
Of sacrifice. Jd.
Although Jephtha's vow run generally for the
words, whatsoever shall come forth ; yet might it be
restrained in the sense to whatsoever was sacrijicable,
and justly subject to lawful immolation, and so would
not have sacrificed either horse or dog.
Brotmt'l Vulgar Errotirt.
Not only the subject of tuo-ifae is questionable,
but also the tacnjicator, which the picture makes to
be Jephtha. Browne.
Tertullian's observation upon these tacrijiciat rites
is pertinent to this rule.
Taylor's Worthy Communicant.
When some brawny sacrificer knocks,
Before an altar led, an offered ox. Dnjden.
The breach of this rule, To do as one would be
done to, would be contrary to that interest men sa-
crifice to when they break it. Lncke.
A priest pours wine between the horns of a bull :
the priest is veiled after the manner of the old Roman
sncrijicers. Addison.
I saw among the ruins an old heathen altar, with
this particularly in it, that it is hollowed like a dish
at one end ; but it was not this end on which the
sacrifice was laid. Id.
Syphax loves you, and would sacrifice
His life, nay more, his honour to your service. Id.
Condemned to sacrifice his childish years
To babbling ignorance, and to empty fears. Prior.
A great genius sometimes sacrifices sound to sense.
Broome.
A SACRIFICE is an offering made to God on an
altar, as an acknowledgment of his power and a
payment of homage. Sacrifices (though the term
is sometimes used to comprehend all the offer-
ings made to God, or in any way devoted to his
service and honor) differ from mere oblations iu
this, that in a sacrifice there is a real destruction
or change of the thing offered ; whereas an ob-
lation is only a simple offering or gift, without
any such change at all : thus all sorts of tithes
and first-fruits, and whatever of men's worldly
substance is consecrated to God for the support
of his worship and the miantenance of his mi-
nisters, are offerings or oblations ; and these, un-
der the Jewish law, were either of living crea-
tures or other things : but sacrifices, in the more
peculiar sense of the term, were either wholly or
in part consumed by fire. Concerrling the ori-
gin of sacrifices very various opinions have been
held. By many the Phoenicians are supposed to
have been the authors of them ; though Porphyry
attributes their invention to the Egyptians.
By modern deists, sacrifices are said to have
had their origin in superstition. It is therefore weak
(say they) to derive this practice from any par-
ticular people ; since the same mode of reasoning
would lead various nations, without any inter-
course with each other, to entertain the same
opinions respecting the nature of their gods, and
the proper means of appeasing their anger. Men
of gross conceptions imagine their deities to be
like themselves, covetous and cruel. They are
accustomed to appease an injured neighbour by
a composition in money ; and they endeavour to
compound in the same manner with their gods,
by rich offerings to their temples and to their
priests. The most valuable property of a simple
people is their cattle. These offered in sacrifice
are supposed to be fed upon by the divinity, and
are actually fed upon by his priests. If a crime
is committed which requires the punishment ot
death, it is accounted perfectly fair to appease
the deity by offering one life for another ; be
cause, by savages, punishment is considered as a
debt for which a man may compound, and which
one man may pay for another. Hence, they
allege, arose the notions of imputed guilt and
vicarious atonement. — Had sacrifices never pre-
vailed in the world but among such gross idol-
aters as worshipped departed heroes, who were
supposed to retain in their state of deification all
the passions and appetites of their mortal state,
this account of the origin of that mode of wor-
ship would have been perfectly satisfactory. But
we know from the most incontrovertible author-
ity, that sacrifices were in use among people who
worshipped the true God, and who must have
had very correct notions of his attributes. Now
we think it impossible that such notions could
have led any man to fancy that the taking away
of the life of a harmless animal, or the burning
of a cake or other fruits of the earth in the fire,
would be acceptable to a Being self-existent,
omnipotent, and omniscient, who can neither be
injured by the crimes of his creatures, nor receive
any accession of happiness.
Some persons who admit the authenticity of
the Jewish and Christian sacrifices, and firmly
rely on the atonement made by Christ, are yet
unwilling to allow that sacrifices were originally
instituted by God. Of this opinion were St.
Chrysostom, Spencer, Grotius, and Warburton,
as were likewise the Jewish Rabbies, Maimo-
nides, R. I-evi, and Ben Gerson. The greater
part of these writers maintain that sacrifices
were at first a human institution, and that God,
to prevent their being offered to idols, introduced
them into his service, though he did not approve
of them as good in themselves, or as proper
rites of worship. Warburton's theory of sacri-
fice is more plausible. According to this inge-
nious prelate, sacrifices had their origin in the
sentiments of the human heart, and in the an-
cient mode of conversing by action in aid of
words. Gratitude to God for benefits received
is natural to the mind of man, as well as his
bounden duty. ' Expiatory sacrifices,' he says,
' were in their own nature intelligible. Here
some chosen animal, precious to the repenting
criminal, who deprecates the Deity who is to be
appeased, was offered up and slain at the altar,
an action which in all languages speaks to this
purpose : — I confess my transgressions at thy
footstool, O my God ! and with the deepest con-
trition implore thy pardon. And 1 own that I
myself deserve the death which I now inflict on
this animal." See Divine Legation, B. ix. c. 2.
This system of sacrifice, which the bishop think*
so well supported by the most early movements
of simple nature, we admit to be ingenious, but
by no means satisfactory. The two chief obser-
vances in the Jewish ritual were the sabbath and
sacrifices. Though the distinction of weeks was
well known over all the eastern world, the He-
brews, during their residence in Egypt, were
probably very negligent in their observance of
222
SACRIFICE.
the sabbath. To enforce a religious observance
of that sacred day it became necessary to inform
them of the time and occasion of its first institu-
tion, that they might keep it holy in memory of
the creation ; but, in a country like Egypt, the
people were in danger of holding sacrifices in
too high rather than too low veneration, so that
there was not the same necessity for mentioning
explicitly the early institution of them. It was
sufficient that they knew the divine institution of
their own sacrifices, and the purposes for which
they were offered. ' Faith,' says the apostle Paul,
is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence
of things not seen,' and comes not by reasoning,
but by hearing. What things then were they
of which Abel, the first sacnficer, had heard, for
which he hoped, and in the faith of which he
offered sacrifice ? Undoubtedly it was a restora-
tion to that immortality which was forfeited by
the transgression of his parents. Of such re-
demption an obscure intimation had been given
to Adam, in the promise that the seed of the wo-
man should bruise the head of the serpent ; and
it was doubtless to impress upon his mind in
more striking colors the manner in which this
was to be done that bloody sacrifices were first
instituted. As long as such rites were thus un-
derstood they constituted a perfectly rational
worship, as they showed the people that the
wages of sin is death ; but when men sunk into
idolatry, and lost all hopes of a resurrection from
the dead, the slaughtering of animals to appease
their deities was a practice grossly superstitious-
It rested in itself, without pointing to any farther
end, and the grovelling worshippers believed
that by their sacrifices they purchased the favor
of their deities. When once this notion was
entertained, human sacrifices were .soon intro-
duced. By the Jewish law these abominable
offerings were strictly forbidden, and the whole
ritual of sacrifice restored to its original purity.
All Christian churches have, till very lately,
agreed in believing that the Jewish sacrifices
served, among other uses, for types of the death
of Christ and the Christian worship. Many are
of opinion that they were likewise federal rites,
as they certainly were considered by the ancient
Romans. (Liv. 21,45). Of the various kinds
of Jewish sacrifices, and the subordinate ends for
which they were offered, a full account is given
in the books of Moses. When an Israelite of-
fered a loaf or a cake, the priest broke it into
two parts ; and, setting aside that half which he
reserved for himself, broke the other into crumbs,
poured oil, wine, incense, and salt upon it, and
spread the whole upon the fire of the altar. If
these offerings were' accompanied with the sacri-
fice of an animal, they were thrown upon the
victim to be consumed along with it. If the
offerings were of the ears of new corn, they were
parched at the fire, rubbed in the hand, and then
offered to the priest in a vessel, over which he
poured oil, incense, wine, and salt, and then
burnt it upon the altar, having first taken as
much of it as of right belonged to himself. The
principal sacrifices among the Hebrews consist-
ed of bullocks, sheep, and goats : but doves and
turtles were accepted from those who were not
able to bring the other; these animals were to
be perfect, and without blemish. The rites of
sacrificing were various, and are very minutely
described in the books of Moses.
The manner of sacrificing among the Greeks
and Romans was as follows : — In the choice ot
the victim, they took care that it was without
blemish or imperfection ; its tail was not to be
too small at the end ; the tongue not black, nor
the ears cleft ; and the bull must never have been
yoked. The victim being pitched upon, they
gilt his forehead and horns, especially if a bull,
heifer, or cow. The head they also adorned witli
a garland of flowers, a woollen infula or holy
fillet, whence hung two rows of chaplets with
twisted ribands; and over the middle of the
body a kind of stole, hung down on each side ;
the lesser victims were only adorned with gar-
lands and bundles of flowers, together with
white tufts or wreaths. The victims, thus pre-
pared, were brought before the altar : the lesser
being driven to the place, and the larger led by
a halter; when, if they made any struggle, or
refused to go, the resistance was taken for an ill
omen, and the sacrifice often delayed. The vic-
tim, thus brought, was carefully examined, to see
that there was no defect in it; then the priest,
clad in his sacerdotal habit, and accompanied
with the sacrincers and other attendants, and
being washed and purified according to the ce-
remonies prescribed, turned to the right hand,
and went round the altar, sprinkling it and those
who were present with meal and holy water.
Then the crier proclaimed with a loud voice,
Who is here? To which the people replied,
Many and good. The priest then having ex-
horted the people to join with him, by saying
Let us pray, confessed his own unworthiness,
acknowledging that he had been guilty of divers
sins ; for which he entreated pardon of the gods,
hoping that they would grant his requests, accept
the oblations offered, and send them all health
and happiness; and to this general form added
petitions for such particular favors as were then
desired. The priest then took a cup of wine;
and, having tasted it, caused his assistants to do
the like ; and then poured forth the remainder
between the horns of the victim. Then the
priest or the crier, or sometimes the most honor-
able person in the company, killed the beast, by
knocking it down or cutting its throat. If the
sacrifice was in honor of the celes<ial gods, the
throat was turned up towards heaven, but if
they sacrificed to the heroes or infernal gods, the
victim was killed with its throat towards the
ground. If by accident the beast escaped the
stroke, leaped up after it, or expired with pain
and difficulty, it was thought to be unacceptable
to the gods. The beast being killed, the priest
inspected its entrails, and made predictions from
them. They then poured wine and frankincense
into the fire, to increase the flame, and then laid
the sacrifice on the altar; which in the primitive
times was burnt whole to the gods, and thence
called a holocaust ; but in after-times only
part of the victim was consumed in the fire, and
the remainder reserved for the sacrincers ; the
thighs, and sometimes the entrails, being burnt
to their honor, the company feasted upon the
rest. During the sacrifice, the priest, and the per-
son who gave the sacrifice, jointly prayed, laying
their hand noon the altar. Sometimes they
SACRIFICE.
223
played upon musical instruments in the time of
the sacrifice, and on some occasions they danced
round the altar, singing sacred hymns in honor
of the gods.
Concerning the origin of human sacrifices
various opinions have been formed. When
men had indulged the fancy of bribing their
gods by sacrifice, it was natural for them
to think of enhancing the value of the atone-
ment by the cost and rarity of the offering, and
thus at last they offered that which they conceiv-
ed to be the most precious of all, a human sa-
crifice. 'It was customary,' says Sanchoniathon,
'-in ancient times, in great and public calamities
before things became incurable, for princes and
magistrates to offer up in sacrifice to the aveng-
ing demons the dearest of their offspring.' San-
choniathon wrote of Phoenicia ; but the practice
prevailed in every nation of which we have re-
ceived any ancient account. The people of
Dumah, in particular, sacrificed every year a
child, and buried it underneath an altar; for
they did not admit of images. The Persians
buried people alive. Hamestris, the wife of
Xerxes, entombed twelve persons alive under
ground. It would be endless to enumerate
every city and province where these dire prac-
tices obtained. The Cyprians, the Rhodians,
the Phoceans, the lonians, those of Chios, Les-
bos, Tenedos, all offered human sacrifices. The
natives of the Tauric Chersonesus offered up to
Diana every stranger whom chance threw upon
their coast. Hence arose that just expostulation
of Euripides in his Iphigenia, upon the incon-
sistency of the proceeding. Iphigenia wonders,
as the goddess delighted in the blood of men,
that every villain and murderer should be privi-
ledged to escape, nay, driven from the threshold
of the temple; whereas, if an honest and virtu-
ous man chanced to stray thither, he was only
seized upon, and put to death. The Pelasgi, in
a time of scarcity, vowed the tenth of all that
should be born to them for a sacrifice, to pro-
cure plenty. Aristomenes the Messenian slew 300
noble Lacedemonians, among whom was Theo-
pompus the king of Sparta, at the altar of Jupi-
ter at Ithome. The Lacedemonians did not fail
to make ample returns, and offered the like
number of victims to Mars. Their barbarous
festival of the Diamastigosis is well known. See
DIAMASTIGOSIS. Phylarchus, as quoted by Por-
phyry, says that of old every Grecian state made
it a rule, before they marched against an enemy,
to solicit a blessing on their undertakings by hu-
man victims. The Romans were accustomed to
the like sacrifices. They both devoted themselves
to the infernal gods, and constrained others to
submit to the same horrid doom. Hence we
read in Livy that, in the consulate of JEmilius
Paulus and Terentius Varro, two Gauls, a man
and a woman, and two Greeks were buried alive at
Rome in the ox-market. He says it was a sacri-
fice not originally of Roman institution ; yet was
often practised there by public authority. Plu-
tarch mentions a similar instance a few years
before, in the consulship of Flaminius and Fu-
rius. Caius Marius offered up his own daughter
as a victim to the Dii Averrunci, to procure suc-
cess in a battle against the Cimbri ; as we are
informed by Dorotheus, quoted by Clemens
and by Plutarch, who says that her name wa>
Calpurnia. Cicero, mentioning this custom as
common in Gaul, adds that it prevailed among
the people even at the time he was writing ; and
Pliny says that it had then, and not very long,
been discouraged. For there was a law enacted
when Lentulus and Crassus were consuls, so
late as A. U. C. 657, that there should be no
more human sacrifices. They were, however,
again offered, though they became not so ge-
neral. For Augustus Caesar, when Perusia sur-
rendered during the second triumvirate, offered
up, upon the Ides of March, 300 persons, of the
equestrian and senatorial order, to the manes
of his uncle Julius Caesar. Even in Rome this
custom was revived : and Porphyry assures us
that in his time a man was every year sacrificed
at the shrine of Jupiter Latialis. Heliogabalus
offered similar victims to the Syrian deity which
he introduced among the Romans. The same is
said of Aurelian. The Gauls and Germans were
so devoted to this shocking custom that no bu-
siness of any moment was transacted among
them without the blood of men. They were of-
fered up to Husus, Taranis, Thautates, 8cc.
These deities are mentioned by Lucan. The al-
tars of these gods were generally situated in the
depth of woods, that the gloom might add to the
horror of the operation. The persons devoted
were led thither by the Druids, who presided at
the solemnity, and performed the cruel office.
Tacitus mentions the cruelty of the Hermunduri,
in a war with the Catti, wherein they had greatly
the advantage ; at the close of which they made
one general sacrifice of all their prisoners. The
remains of the legions under Varrus suffered the
same fate. There were many places destined for
this purpose all over Gaul and Germany ; but es-
pecially the woods of Arduenna(now Ardennes),
and the great Hercynian forest ; a wild that ex-
tended above thirty days' journey in length.
The places set apart for this solemnity were held
in the utmost reverence. Lucan mentions a
grove of this sort near Marsilia, which even the
Roman soldiers were afraid to violate, though
commanded by Caesar. Claudian compliments
Stilicho that, among other advantages accruing
to the Roman armies through his conduct, they
could now venture into the awful forest o,
Ilercynia, and follow the chace in those so
much dreaded woods. These practices prevail-
ed among all the nations of the north. The
Massagetae, the Scythians, the Getes, th« Sar-
matians, all the various nations upon the Bal-
tic, particularly the Suevi and Scandinavians,
held it as a fixed principle that their security
could not be obtained but at the expense of
the lives of others. Their chief gods were
Thor and Woden, whom they thought they
could never sufficiently glut with blood. They
had many celebrated places of worship ; espe-
cially in the island of Rugen, near the mouth ot
the Oder ; and in Zealand, and among the Sem-
nones and Naharvalli. But the most frequented
was at Upsal ; where there was every year a
grand solemnity, which continued for nine days,
during which they sacrificed animals of all sorts;
but the most acceptable and numerous victims
224
SACRIFICE.
were men. Of these none were esteemed so
auspicious a sacrifice as the prince of the coun-
try. Whea the lot fell for the king to die, it was
received with universal joy ; as it once happened
in the time of a famine, when they cast lots, and
it fell to king Domalder to be the people's vic-
tim ; and he was accordingly put to death. They
did not spare their' own children. Harold the
son of Gunild slew two of his sons to obtain,
says Verstegan, ' such a tempest at sea, as
should break and disperse the shipping of Harold
king of Denmark.' Another king slew nine
sons to prolong his own life. Adam Bremensis,
speaking of the awful grove at Upsal where
these horrid rites were celebrated, says that
there was not a single tree but was reverenced,
as if gifted with some portion of divinity ; be-
cause they were stained with gore and foul with
human putrefaction. The same is observed by
Scheiffer in his account of this place. The
manner in which the victims were slaughtered
was diverse in different places. Some of the
Gaulish nations chined them with the stroke of
an axe. The Celtae placed the man who was to
be offered for a sacrifice upon a block or an
altar, with his breast upwards, and with a sword
struck forcibly across the sternum ; then tumb-
ling him to the ground, from his agonies and
convulsions, as well as from the effusion of
blood, they formed a judgment of future events.
The Cimbri ripped open the bowels ; and from
them they pretended to divine. In Norway they
beat men's brains out with an ox-yoke. In Ice-
land they dashed them against an altar of stone.
In many places they transfixed them with ar-
rows. After they were dead, they suspended
them upon the trees, and left them to putrefy.
At one time seventy carcases of this sort were
found in a wood of the Scevi. Dithmar of
Mersburg speaks of a place called Ledur in
Zealand, where there were every year ninety-
nine persons sacrificed to the god Swantowite.
During these bloody festivals a general joy pre-
vailed, and banquets were most royally served.
They fed, caroused, and gave a loose to indulgence,
which at other times was not permitted. Their
servants were numerous^ who attended during
the term of their feasting, and partook of the
banquet. But, at the close of all, they were
smothered in the same pool, or otherwise made
away with. On which Tacitus remarks how
great an awe this circumstance must necessarily
infuse into those who were not admitted to these
mysteries. They imagined that there was some-
thing mysterious in the number nine : for which
reason these feasts were in some places cele-
brated every ninth year, in others every ninth
month; and continued for nine days. When all
was ended, they washed the image of the deity
in a pool ; and then dismissed the assembly.
These accounts are handed down from a variety
of authors in different ages; many of whom
were natives of the countries which they de-
scribe, and to which they seem strongly attached.
The like custom prevailed to an excessive degree
at Mexico (see MEXICO), and even under'the
mild government of the Peruvians ; and in most
parts of America. But, among the nations of
Canaan, the victims were peculiarly chosen.
Their own cliildreT;, and whatever was nearest
and dearest to them, were deemed the most wor-
thy offering to their gods. The Carthaginians,
who were a colony from Tyre, carried with them
the religion of their country, and instituted the
same worship in the parts were they settled. It
consisted in the adoration of several deities, but
particularly of Kronus, to whom they offered
human sacrifices, and especially children. If
the parents were not at hand to make an imme-
diate offer, the magistrates did not fail to make
choice of those who were most fair and pro-
mising. Upon a check being received in Sicily,
Hamilcar laid hold of a boy, and offered him on
the spot to Kronus ; and at the same time
drowned a number of priests to appease the deity
of the sea. The Carthaginians, upon a great de-
feat of their army by Agathocles, imputed their
miscarriages to the anger of this god, and seized
at once 300 children of the nobility, and offered
them for a sacrifice; 300 more yielded them-
selves voluntarily, and were put to death with
the others. The Egyptians chose the most hand-
some persons to be sacrificed. The Albanians
pitched upon the best man of the community,
and made him pay for the wickedness of the
rest. If a person had an only child, it was the
more liable to be sacrificed, as being esteemed
more acceptable to the deity, and more effica-
cious to the general good. Those who were sa-
crificed to Kronus were thrown into the arms of
a molten idol, which stood in the midst of a
large fire, and was red hot. The arms of it
were stretched out, with the hands turned up-
wards, as it were to receive them ; yet sloping
downwards, so that they dropt thence into a
glowing furnace below. To other gods they
were otherwise slaughtered, often by the very
hands of their parents. They embraced their
children with great fondness, and encouraged
them in the gentlest terms, that they might not
be appalled at the sight of the hellish process ;
begging of them to submit with cheerfulness to
this fearful operation. If there was any appear-
ance of a tear rising, or a cry unawares escaping,
the mother smothered it with her kisses, that
there might not be any show of backwardness
or constraint, but the whole be a free-will offer-
ing. These cruel endearments over, they stab-
bed them to the heart, or otherwise opened the
sluices of life ; and with the blood warm, as it
ran, besmeared the altar and the grim visage of
the idol. These were the customs which the
Israelites learned of the people of Canaan, and
for which they are upbraided by the Psalmist
(cvi. 34 — 39). These cruel rites, practised in so
many nations, made Plutarch doubt, ' Whether
it would not have been better for the Galatae, or
for the Scythians to have had no tradition or
conception of any superior beings, than to have
formed to themselves notions of gods who de-
lighted in the blood of men ; of gods who es-
teemed human victims the most acceptable and
perfect sacrifice. Would it not, says he, have
been more eligible for the Carthaginians to have
had the atheist Critias, or Diagoras their law-
giver, at the commencement of their polity, and
to have been taught that there was neither god
nor demon, than to have sacrificed in the man-
SAC
225
SAD
ner they were wont to the god whom they
adored ? ' The mother, he adds, who sacrificed
her child stood by, without any seeming sense
of what she was losing, and without uttering a
groan. If a sigh did escape she lost all the
honor which she proposed to herself in the offer-
ing, and the child was notwithstanding slain.
All the time of this ceremony, while the chil-
dren were murdering, there was a noise of cla-
rions and tabors sounding before the idol, that
the cries and shrieks of the victims might not
be heard.' ' Tell me now,' adds Plutarch, ' if
the monsters of old, the Typhons, and the
giants, were to expel the gods, and to rule the
world in their stead ; could they require a ser-
vice more horrid than these infernal rites and
sacrifices ?'
SAC'RILEGE, n. s. ^ Fr. sacrilege ; Lat.
SACRILE'GIOUS, adj. > sacrilcgium. The
SACRILEGIOUSLY, adv. ) crime of appropri-
ating what is devoted to religion, or of violating
or profaning things sacred : the adjective and ad-
verb corresponding.
By what eclipse shall that sun be defaced,
What mine hath erst thrown down so fair a tower,
What sacrilege hath such a saint disgraced ?
Sidney.
Then 'gan a cursed hand the quiet womb
Of his great grandmother with steel to wound,
And the hid treasures in her sacred tomb
With sacrilege to dig. Faerie Queene.
To sacrilegiotts perjury should I be betrayed, I
should account it greater misery. King Charles.
When these evils befel him, his conscience tells
him it was for sacrilegiously pillaging and invading
God's house. South.
We need not go so many ages back to see the ven-
geance of God upon some families, raised upon the
ruins of churches, and enriched with the spoils of sa-
crilege. Id.
Blasphemy is a male iiction, and a sacrilegious de-
traction from the Godhead. Aylijfe's Parergon.
Still green with bays each ancient altar stands,
Above the reach of sacrilegious hands. Pope.
SA'CRING, part.^ A participle of the
SA'CRIST, ^ French sacrer. The verb
SAC'RISTAN, i is not used in English.
SAC'RISTY. * Consecrating ; a sacrist
or sacristan (Fr. sacristairi) is one who has the
care of consecrated things : sacristy the place
where they are kept.
I'll startle you,
Worse than the sacring bell.
Shakspeare. Henry VIII.
The sacring of the kings of France is the sign of
their sovereign priesthood as well as kingdom, and
in the right thereof they are capable of holding all
vacant benefices. Temple.
Bold Amycus from the robbed vestry brings
A sconce that hung on high,
With tapers filled to light the sacristy. Dryden.
A third apartment should be a kind of sacristy
for altars, idols, and sacrificing instruments.
Addison.
A sacrist or treasurer are not dignitaries in the
church of common right, but only by custom.
Ayliffe's Parergon.
SACROBOSCO (Joannes de), or John Hali-
fax, a celebrated mathematician of the thir-
teenth century, said by English biographers to
have been born at Halifax in Yorkshire, but both
VOL. XIX.
Scots and Irish writers claim him as their coun-
tryman. After receiving his education at Ox-v
ford, he entered into orders, and went to Paris,
where he died in 1256- He wrote, 1. De
Sphaera Mundi ; 2. De Anni Rations; 3. De
Algorismo.
SACRUM, or Os basilare, the sacred bone,
so called from its being offered in sacrifice by
the ancients, or perhaps from its supporting the
organs of generation, which they considered as
sacred. In young subjects it is composed of
five or six pieces, united by cartilage ; but in
more advanced age it becomes one bone, in
which, however, the marks of the former sepa-
ration may still be easily distinguished. Its
shape has been sometimes compared to an irre-
gular triangle ; and sometimes, and perhaps
more properly, to a pyramid, flattened before
and behind, with its basis placed towards the
lumbar vertebrae, and its point terminating in the
coccyx. See ANATOMY.
SAD, adj. -\ Of this word, so frequent in
SAD'DEN, v. a. (the language, the etymology is
SAD'LY, adv. {not known, says Johnson.
SAD'NESS, n. s. * Goth, sat, grief. — Thomson.
Sorrowful ; full of grief : hence heavy ; gloomy ;
bad ; cohesive : to sadden is to make sad : and
the adverb and noun substantive correspond.
Be not as the hypocrites of a sad countenance.
Matthew.
Do you think I shall not love a sad Pamela s°
well as a joyful ? Sidney.
\\ith that his hand, more sad than lump of lead,
Uplifting high, he weened with Morddure,
His own good sword, Morddure to cleave his head.
Faerie Queene.
My father has gone wild into his grave ;
For in his tomb lie my affections ;
And with his spirits sadly I survive,
To mock the expectations of the world.
Shakspeare. Henry IV.
It ministreth unto men, and other creatures, all
celestial influences ; it dissipateth those sad thoughts
and sorrows which the darkness both begetteth and
maintaineth. Raleigh.
If it were an embassy of weight, choice was made
of some sad person of known judgment and expe-
rience, and not of a young man, not weighed in state
matters. Bacon.
A sad wise valour is the brave complexion
That leads the van, and swallows up the cities :
The giggler is a milk-maid, whom inflection,
Or a fired beacon, frighteth from his ditties.
Herbert
The soul receives intelligence
By her near genius of the body's end,
And so imparts a sadness to the sense.
Daniel's Civil War.
A passionate regret at sin, a grief and sadness of
its memory, enter into God's roll of mourners.
Decay of Piety.
And let us not be wanting to ourselves,
Lest so severe and obstinate a sadness
Tempt a new vengeance. Denham's Sophy.
Thoughts in my unquiet breast are risen,
Tending to some relief of our extremes,
Or end, tho' sharp and sad, yet tolerable. Milton.
Up into heaven, from Paradise in haste
Th' angelic guards ascended, mute and sad. Id.
Dim sadness did not spare
Celestial visages. Id.
Crystal, in its reduction into powder, hath a vale
Q
SAD
226
SAD
and shadow of blue ; and in its coarse pieces is of a
sadder hue than the powder of Venice glass.
Browne's Vulgar Errourt.
I met him accidentally in London in tad coloured
c.oathes, far from being costly.
Walton'* Life of Bishop Sanderson.
Scarce any tinging ingredient is of so general use
as woad, or glastum; for though of itself it dye but
a blue, yet it is used to prepare cloth for a green,
and many of the tadder colours, when the dyers
make them last without fading. Boyle.
He sadly suffers in their grief,
Out- weeps an hermit, and out -prays a saint.
Drifden.
If the subject be mournful, let every thing in it
have a stroke of sadness. Id.
Woad or wade is used by the dyers to lay the
foundations of all sad colours.
Mortimer's Husbandry.
Marl is binding, and saddening of land is the great
prejudice it doth to clay lands. Id.
We may" at present easily see, and one day sadly
feel. South.
These qualifications make him a sad husband.
Adtiiton.
Her gloomy presence saddens all the scene,
Shades every flower, and darkens every green ;
Deepens the murmurs of the falling floods,
And breathes a browner horror on the woods. Pope.
See in her cell sad Eloisa spread,
Propped on some tomb, a neighbour of the dead.
Id.
SAD'DLE, n. *.'& v. a. *\ Sax. j-£rt>l ; Goth.
SAD'DLE-BACKED, adj. f seda ; Dan. and
SAD'DLE-H AKER, n. s. iBelg. sadel; Wei.
SAD'DLER. ) sadell. The seat
which is put upon a horse : to cover with a sad-
dle ; to burden : saddle-backed is denned in the
extract : saddle-maker and saddler, a manufac-
turer of saddles.
I will saddle me an ass, that I may ride thereon.
2 Sum.
His horse hipped, with an old moth-eaten saddle,
and the stirrups of no kindred
Shakipeare. Taming of the Shrew.
Sixpence that I had
To pay the toddler for my mistress' crupper,
The toddler had it. Id. Comedy of Errours.
The law made for apparel, and riding in saddles,
after the English fashion, is penal only to English-
men. Davies.
Rebels, by yielding, do like him, or worse,
Who saddled his own back to shame his horse.
Cleat-eland.
The utmost exactness in these belongs to farriers,
saddlers, and smiths. Digby.
One hung a pole-ax at his saddle bow,
And one a heavy mace. Dryden't Knight'* Tale.
Resolved for sea, the slaves thy baggage pack,
Each saddled with his burden on his back ;
Nothing retards thy voyage. Dryden.
Horses, taddlt-bached, have their backs low, and a
raised head and neck. Farrier'* Dictionary.
No man, sure, e'er left his house,
And toddled Ball, with thoughts so wild,
To brine a midwife to his spouse,
Before he knew she was with child. Prior.
The smith and the toddler's journeyman ought to
partake of your master's generosity.
Swift's Direction* to the Groom.
SADDLE, in archaiology. In the earlier ages
the Romans used neither saddle nor stirrups,
and hence the Roman cavalry were subject to
sundry maladies in the hips and legs from the
want of some support for their feet. Hippo-
crates observes that the Scythians, who were
much on horseback, were incommoded by de-
fluxions in the legs from the same cause. In
less remote times, the Romans placed upon their
horses a square pannel, or species of covering
which enabled them to sit less hardly. This
they termed ephippium.
The saddles now chiefly in use are : — The
running saddle, which is a small one with
round skirts. The Burford saddle, which has
the seat and the skirts both plain. The pad
saddle, of which there are two sorts, some made
with burs before the seat, and others with bol-
sters under the thighs. The French pad saddle,
of which the burs come wholly round the seat.
The portmanteau saddle, that has a cantle behind
the seat, to keep the portmanteau from the back
of the rider. A war saddle, whicli has a cantle
and a bolster behind and before ; also a fair
bolster. The pack saddle, a saddle upon which
loads may be carried
The several parts of a saddle are too well
known to require any minute description in this
place.
SADDUCEES, a sect among the ancient
Jews respecting whose origin there are various
opinions. Epiphanius and others contend that
they took their rise from Dositheus, a sectary of
Samaria, and their name from the Hebrew word
p"l¥, just, from the great justice and equity which
they showed in their actions. In the Jewish
Talmud we are told that the Sadducees derived
their name from Sadoc, or Zadoc, and that the
sect arose about 260 years before Christ, in the
time of Antigonus of Socho, president of the
Sanhedrim at Jerusalem, and teacher of the law.
He had often in his lectures taught his scholars
that they ought not to serve God as slaves do
their masters, from the hope of a reward, but
merely out of filial love for his own sake ; from
which Sadoc and Baithas inferred that there
were no rewards after this life. They therefore
separated from their master, and taught that there
was no resurrection nor future state. This new
doctrine quickly spread, and gave rise to the
sect of Sadducees, which in many respects re-
sembled the Epicureans. Dr. Prideaux thinks
that the Sadducees were at first no more than
what the Karaites are now ; that is, they would
not receive the traditions of the elders, but stuck
to the written word only ; and, the Pharisees
being great promoters of those traditions, these
two sects became opponents. Afterwards the
Sadducees imbibed other doctrines, they denied
the resurrection of the dead, and the existence
of angels, and of the spirits or souls of men de-
parted. (Matt. xxii. 23, Acts xxiii. 8). They
held that there is no spiritual being but God
only ; that as to man, this world is his all.
They did not deny but that we had reasonable
souls ; but they maintained that these were mor-
tal ; and that what is said of the existence ot
angels, and of a future resurrection, is nothing
but illusion. It is also said that they rejected
the prophecies. The Sadducees observed the
law themselves, and caused it to be observed by
others with the utmost rigor. They admitted of
SAD
227
SAF
cone of the traditions, explications, or modi-
fications of the Pharisees ; they kept only to the
text of the law ; and maintained that only what
•was written was to be observed. The Sadducees
are accused of rejecting all the books of Scrip-
ture except those of Moses. But Scaliger vin-
dicates them from this reproach, and observes
that they did not appear in Israel till after the
canon was completed ; and that, if they had been
to choose out of the canonical Scriptures, the
Pentateuch was less favorable to them than any
other book, since it often mentions angels. Be-
sides, the Sadducees were present in the temple,
where the books of the prophets were daily read,
and were in the chief employments of the na-
tion ; many of them were even priests. Men-
asseh Ben Israel says, expressly, that they did
not reject the prophets, but that they explained
them in a sense very different from that of the
other Jews. Josephus assures us that they de-
nied destiny or fate ; alleging that these were
only sounds void of sense, and that all the good
or evil that happens to us is in consequence of
the good or evil side we have taken, by the
free choice of our will. They said, also, that
God was far removed from doing or knowing
evil, and that man was the absolute master of
his own actions. Yet it is certain they were not
only tolerated among the Jews, but were ad-
mitted to the high priesthood itself. John Hyr-
canus, high priest, separated from the Pharisees,
and went over to this sect ; and gave strict com-
mand to the Jews, on pain of death, to receive
the maxims of this sect. Aristobulus and Alex-
ander Jannsus, sons of Hyrcanus, favored the
Sadducees; and Maimonides assures us that
under Alexander Jannaeus they possessed all the
offices of the Sanhedrim, and that there only re-
mained of the party of the Pharisees Simon the
son of Secra. Caiaphas, who condemned Jesus
Christ, was a Sadducee, as well as Ananus the
younger, who put to death St. James. The mo-
dern Jews hold as heretics that small number of
Sadducees that are among them. The sect of
the Sadducees was much reduced by the destruc-
tion of Jerusalem, and by the dispersion of the
Jews ; but it revived afterwards. At the begin-
ning of the third century it was so formidable in
Egypt that Ammonius wrote against the.m, or
rather against the Jews, who tolerated the Sad-
ducees, though they denied the fundamental
points of their religion. The emperor Justinian
mentions the Sadducees in one of his acts, ba-
nishes them out of his dominions, and condemns
them to the severest punishment, as people that
maintained atheistical and impious tenets. An-
nus, or Ananus, a disciple of Juda, son of Nach-
man, a famous rabbi of the eighth century,
declared himself in favor of the Sadducees, and
strenuously defended them ; as did also, in the
twelfth century, Alpharag, a Spanish rabbi.
This doctor wrote against the Pharisees, and
maintained that the purity of Judaism was only
to be found among the Sadducees; that the tra-
ditions avowed by the Pharisees were useless ;
and that the ceremonies, which they had mul-
tiplied without end, were an insupportable yoke.
SADLER (Anthony), D. D., an eminent
English divine; born at Chilton, in Wiltshire,
in 1610. He took his degree in 1665, and was
appointed one of the king's chaplains by Charles
II. He died in 1680.
SADLER (William Windham), an ingenious
aeronaut, who fell a victim to the practice of his
profession. On the 30th of September, 1824,
he ascended from the neighbourhood of Black-
burn in Lancashire ; and in the descent, the car
being driven against a chimney, Mr. Sadler was
thrown out, at the height of about forty yards
from the ground, when his skull was fractured,
and he was otherwise so injured as to occasion
his death, in the twenty-eighth year of his age.
lie had made thirty aerial voyages, in one of which
he attempted to cross the Irish channel, but, from
the obstruction of various currents, failed. He
possessed considerable talents as a chemist and
engineer, in which capacities he was employed
by the first gas company established at Liver-
pool, where he had also fitted up warm, medi-
cated, and vapor baths.
SADOLET (James), a learned cardinal, born
at Modena in 1477. Leo X. made him his
secretary. Sadolet was soon after made bishop
of Carpentras, near Avignon. He was made a
cardinal in 1536, by Paul III., and employed in
several negociations and embassies. He died in
1547, not without the suspicion of poison, for
corresponding too familiarly with the Protestants,
and for testifying too much regard for some of
their doctors. His works, which are in Latin,
were collected in 1607 at Mentz, in 1 vol. 8vo.
All his contemporaries spoke of him in the
highest terms.
SADYATTES, the son of Gyges, king of
Lydia, father of Alyattes II., and grandfather of
the famous Croesus. He succeeded Ardysus II.
about A. A. C. 631 ; carried on a war against the
Milesians for six years, and died in 619, in his
thirteenth year.
SAFE, adj. & n. s. ~} Fr. sanf; Lat.
SAFE'-CONDUCT, n. s. \ $alvus. Secure ;
SAFE'GUARD, n. s. & v. n. ! free from danger
SAFE'LY, adv. \ or hurt ; harm-
SAFE'NESS, n. s. \ less : a safe place
SAFE'TY. J for depositing
food ; a safe-conduct is, a pass or warrant to
pass ; a convoy : safeguard, protection ; defence ;
pass : and, as a verb neuter, to protect : safely
and safeness follow the senses of safe, adjective :
safety is, security ; freedom or preservation from
hurt; custody.
To write the same things to you, to me is not
grievous, but to you safe. Phil. iii. 1 .
We serve the living God as near as our wits can
reach to the knowledge thereof, even according to his
own will ; and do therefore trust that his mercy
shall be our safeguard. Hooker.
Our separated fortune
Shall keep us both the safer ; where we are.
There's daggers in men's smiles.
Shakpeare. Macbeth.
But Banquo's lafel
— Ay, my good lord. Safe in a ditch he bides,
With twenty trenched gashes on his head ;
The least a death to nature. Id.
If you do fight in safeguard of your wives,
Your wives shall welcome home the conquerors.
Shaksveart.
God safely quit her of her burden, and with gentle
Q2
SAP
228
SAP
travail, to the gladding of your highness with an
heir. ld-
To that dauntless temper of his mind,
He hath a wisdom that doth guide his valour
To act in safety. Id.
Imprison him ;
Deliver him to safety, and return. Id. King John.
Cssar, where dangers threatened on the one side,
and the opinion that there should be in him little safe-
guard for his friends on the other, chose rather to
venture upon extremities, than to be thought a weak
prot sctor. Raleigh.
A trumpet was sent to sir William Waller, to de-
sire a safe-conduct for a gentleman. Clarendon.
A trumpet was sent to the earl of Essex for a safe-
guard or pass to two lords, to deliver a message from
the king to the two houses. Id.
Ascend ; I follow thee, safe guide, the path
Thou leadest me. Milton.
But Trivia kept in secret shades alone,
Her care, Hippolytus, to fate unknown ;
And called him Virbius in the Egerian grove,
Where then he lived obscure, but tafe from Jove.
Dry den.
Put your head into the mouth of a wolf, and, when
you've brought it out safe and sound, talk of a re-
ward. L'Eitrange.
Who is there that hath the leisure and means to
collect all the proofs, concerning most of the opinions
he has, so as safely to conclude that he hath a clear
and full view 1 Locke.
If a man should forbear his food or his business,
till he had certainty of the tafenets of what he was
going about, he must starve and die disputing. Sauih.
If her acts have been directed well,
While with her friendly clay she deigned to dwell,
Shall she with safety reach her pristine seat,
Find her rest endless, and her bliss complete "!
Prior.
Great numbers, descended from them, have, by
the blessing of God upon their industry, raised them-
selves so high in the world as to become, in times of
difficulty, a protection and a safeguard to that altar,
at which their ancestors ministered. Atterbury.
Thy sword, the tafeguard of thy brother's throne,
Is now become the bulwark of thy own. Granville.
Beyond the beating surge his course he bore,
With longing eyes observing to survey
Some smooth ascent, or safe sequestered bay. Pope.
SAFE-CONDUCT is a security given by a prince
under the great seal, to a stranger, for his safe
coming into and passing out of the realm.
There are letters of safe- conduct which must be
enrolled in chancery ; and the persons to whom
they may be granted must have them ready to
show.
SAFETY LAMP. For a description of this
humane and useful invention see LAMP and
COAL. One inconvenience attached to this
lamp was, that the perfect safety which attended
its use often induced the men at work in the
mines to go into more deteriorated atmospheres
than they otherwise would, which sometimes oc-
casioned the lights to be extinguished. To
obviate this inconvenience, Sir Humphrey Davy
has contrived to suspend a coil of platinum
wire over the flame 01 each lamp, the effect of
which is, that the moment the light is extin-
guished by the superabundance of carbureted
hydrogen gas in the atmosphere, the coil of pla-
tinum wire becomes of an intense red heat ; and
this affords light enough to enable the men to
find the road through the different passages to
the entrance of die mine. This alone would
have been an important improvement — but this
is not all ; for no sooner is the lamp brought
into a part of the mine in which the atmosphere
contains less than one-fourth of carbureted hy-
drogen gas, than the heated platinum wire of
itself re-lights the lamp, and the men are enabled
to return to their work without further interrup-
tion and in perfect safety.
Mr. Murray's new safety lamp,
preresented in the annexed dia-
gram, consists of two concentric cy-
linders of thick glass, the space be-
tween being filled with water
through a pipe at top, and repre-
sented in the figure, having an air-
escape aperture on the opposite
side. 'Over the flame of the wick,'
says Mr. M., ' is a bell or funnel,
with a double recurved pipe issuing
from its summit, and passing be-
low the lamp, terminating imme-
diately under a single central aper-
ture. Here the products of com-
bustion are discharged (the excess
is of course disengaged by the usual
aperture at the top of the cylin-
der), and mingled with the explo-
sive atmosphere rising from below,
and passing to the rlame of the
lamp. This is again mixed more
intimately at its immediate ingress, where it
passes through the apertures represented on each
side of the lamp. The rest may be inferred
from a simple inspection of the figure, in which
two of the ribs that fence in the outer cylinder
(a guard from external injury) are supposed to
be removed, in order to show the internal ar-
rangement to better advantage.
' By a circular band of lead affixed to its
base, the instrument will always fall vertically ;
and, should it accidentally fall on its side, it
will immediately recover its upright position.
The water will not spill in any condition of the
instrument, for the resistance of the atmosphere
will prevent this. It is shown lower in the
cylinders than it ought to be, in order to be
clearly represented. The water will preserve
the inner cylinder of an equable temperature.
Hedged in by water, external injury may only
affect the outer wall ; but, granting that the in-
strument is crushed to atoms in an explosive
atmosphere, the worst that can happen is the
extinction of the flame within by a flood of
water.'
' I see,' continues the inventor, no necessity
for shielding the inner cylinder by metallic bars,
because explosion cannot take place within.
The lamp is a self regulator; for, as the quantity
of azote, &c., will be in the ratio of the quantity
of the disarmed explosive mixture, and conse-
quent elongation of the spire of flame, so soon
as it amounts to a maximum, extinction takes
place, and the comparative color of the flame,
with the varied phenomena of the exotic lambent
flame, will afford an elegant measure of that
explosive force which has been disarmed before
its transmission from the portal below.
' This lamp has been submitted to the ordeal
SA PJBTY
SAFFRON
229
of explosive atmospheres, with the most com- being drawn much closer together, and deeper,
plete success. No explosion whatever occurs if the soil will allow, than is done for any kind
within the cylinder. When the explosive atmo- of corn ; and accordingly the charge is greater,
sphere, mixed with the product of combustion, About five weeks after, during any time in May,
passes towards the lamp, the color of its flame they lay between twenty and thirty loads of dung
is changed, and it shoots up into the bell or upon each acre ; and, having spread it with great
funnel (which carries off these chemical products care, they plough it in as before. The shortest
of flame, in order that they may be mixed with rotten dung is the best ; and the farmers spare
the explosive atmosphere, before it passes into no pains to make it good, being sure of a pro-
the cylinder) ; and, as the explosive mixture in- portionable return. About midsummer they
creases, a lambent attenuated flame plays silently plough a third time, and between every sixteen
round that of the lamp, which finally disappears; feet and a half they leave a broad furrow, which
and, when it has reached its maximum, it is serves both as a boundary to the several parcels,
tranquilly extinguished.
SAFFI, or AZAFFI, a sea-port of Morocco, the
capital of the province of Abda. It is supposed
to be a town originally built by the Carthaginians,
and is situated between two hills. Here is a
very fine road, affording anchorage in every sea-
son, except in winter, when the winds blow
from the south and south-west. The French had
and for throwing the weeds into at the proper
season. The time of planting is commonly in
July. The only instrument used at this time
is a small narrow spade, commonly called a spit
shovel.
One man with his shovel raises about three or
four inches of earth, and throws it before him
about six or more inches. Two persons, gene-
several factories there, where they took in great rally women, followwith roots, which they place
quantities of wool, wax, gum, and leather ; but in the farthest edge of the trench made by the
the emperor, having founded jMogodor, gave it digger, at about three inches from each other,
the monopoly of the trade with Europe. The As soon as the digger has gone once the breadth
country round consists of a dry and barren sand, of the ridge, he begins again at the other side ;
and the Moors are very rude and fanatical here, and, digging as before, covers the roots last set,
The population is stated by Jackson at 12,000
Long. 9° 5' W., lat. 32° 20' N.
which makes room for another row of roots at
the same distance from the first. The only dex-
SAF'FRON, n. s. Fr. safran ; from Arab, terity necessary in digging is to leave some part
saphar ;t Span, azafran. A plant.
Are these your customers 1
Did this companion, with the saffron face,
Revel and feast it at my house to-day,
Whilst upon me the guilty doors were shut?
Shakspeare.
Soon as the white and red mixt finger'd dame
Had gilt the mountains with her saffron flame,
1 sent my men to Circe's house.
Chapman's Odyssey.
Grind your bole and chalk, and five or six chives
of saffron. Peacham.
Now when the rosy morn began to rise,
And waved her saffron streamer through the skies.
Dry den.
An herb they call safflow, or bastard saffron, dyers
use for scarlet. Mortimer's Husbandry.
SAFFRON, in botany. See CROCUS. Saffron
is principally cultivated in Cambridgeshire, and
of the first stratum of earth untouched to lie
under the roots; and, in setting, to place the
roots directly upon their bottom. The quantity
of roots planted on an acre is generally about
sixteen quarters, or 128 bushels. From the time
of planting till September, or sometimes later,
there is no more labor required ; but at that time
they begin to vegetate, and are ready to show
themselves above ground, which may be known
by digging up a few of the roots. The ground
is then to be pared with a sharp hoe, and the
weeds raked into the furrows, otherwise they
would hinder the growth of the saffron. In some
time after the flowers appear. They are gathered
before they are full blown, as well as after ; and
the proper time for it is early in the morning.
The owners of the saffron fields get together a
sufficient number of hands, who pull off the
near Saffron Walden in Essex ; but the quantity whole flowers, and throw them by handfuls into
of land under this crop has been gradually les- a basket, and so continue till about 11 o'clock,
sening for the last century, and especially within Having then carried home the flowers, they im-
the last fifty years, so that its culture is now al- mediately fall to picking out the stigmata or
most entirely confined to a few parishes round chives, and together with them a pretty large
proportion of the stylus itself; the rest of the
flower they throw away. Next morning they
return to the field, without regarding whether
the weather be wet or dry ; and so on daily, till
the whole crop js gathered. — The next labor is
to dry the chives on the kiln. The kiln is built
upon a thick plank, that it may be moved from
place to place. It is supported by four short
Saffron Walden. This is owing partly to the
material being less in use than formerly, and
partly to the large importations from the east,
often, as professor Martyn observes, adulterated
with bastard saffron (carthamus tinctorius) and
marygolds.
Saffron is generally planted upon fallow
ground, and they prefer that which has borne
barley the year before. The saffron ground is legs ; the outside consists of eight pieces of wood
seldom above three acres ; and, in choosing, the of three inches thick, in form of a quadrangular
principal thing is, that it be well exposed, the frame, about twelve inches square at the bottom
soil not poor, nor a very stiff clay, but a tempe- on the inside, and twenty-two on the upper part ;
rate dry mould, such as commonly lies upon which last is likewise the perpendicular height
chalk and is of a hazel color. The ground being of it. On the foreside is left a hole of aoout
chosen, about Lady-day or the beginning of eight inches square, and four inches above tiif
April it must be carefully ploughed, the furrows piank, through which the fire is put in ; over att
SAP
230
SAG
the rest laths are laid pretty thick, close to one
another, and nailed to the frame. They are then
plastered over on both sides, as are also the
planks at bottom, very thick, to serve for a
hearth. Over the mouth is laid a hair-cloth,
fixed to the edges of the kiln, and likewise two
rollers or moveable pieces of wood, which are
turned by wedges or screws, to stretch the cloth.
Instead of the hair-cloth, some people use a net-
work of iron wire, by which the saffron is sooner
dried, and with less fuel; but the difficulty of
preserving it from burning makes the hair-cloth
preferred by the best judges. The kiln is placed
in a light part of the house ; and they begin
with putting five or six sheets of white paper on
the hair-cloth, and upon these they lay out the
wet saffron two or three inches thick. It is then
covered with some other sheets of paper, and over
these is laid a coarse blanket five or six times
doubled, or, instead of this, a canvas pillow filled
with straw ; and, after the fire has been lighted for
some time, the whole is covered with a board
having a considerable weight upon it. At first
they apply a pretty strong heat ; and at this time
a great deal of care is necessary to prevent burn-
ing. When it has been thus dried about an hour
they turn the cakes of, saffron upside down,
putting on the coverings and weight as before.
If no accident happens during these first two
hours the danger is over ; and nothing more is
requisite but to keep up a very gentle fire for
twenty-four hours, turning the cake every half
hour. That fuel is best which yields least smoke;
for which reason charcoal is preferred. The
quantity of saffron produced at a crop is uncer-
tain. Sometimes five or six pounds of wet chives
are got from one rood, sometimes not above one
or two, and sometimes not so much as is suffi-
cient to defray the expense of gathering and
drying. But it is always observed that about
five pounds of wet saffron go to make one pound
of dry for the first three weeks of the crop, and
six pounds during the last week. When the
heads are planted very thick two pounds of dry
saffron may at a medium be allowed to an acre for
the first crop, and twenty-four pounds fbr the two
remaining ones, the third being considerably
larger than the second. To obtain the second
and third crops the hoeing, gathering, picking,
&c., must be repeated ; and about midsummer,
after the third crop is gathered, the roots must
all be taken up and transplanted. For taking
up the roots sometimes the plough is used, and
sometimes a forked hoe ; and then the ground is
harrowed once or twice over. During all the
time of ploughing, harrowing, &c-, fifteen or
more people will find work enough to follow and
gather the heads as they are turned up. The
roots are next to be carried to the house in
sacks, where they are cleaned thoroughly from
earth, decayed old pieces, involucra, or excres-
cences, after which they become fit to be planted
in new ground, or they may be kept for some
time without danger of spoiling. At a medium,
twenty-four quarters of clean roots, fit to be
planted, may be had from each acre.
In purchasing saffron that kind ought to be
cho-en which has the broadest blades ; this being
the mark by which English saffron is distin-
guished from the foreign. It ought to be of an
orange or fiery red color, and to yieid a dark
yellow tincture. It should be chosen fresh, not
above a year old, in close cakes, neither dry nor
yet very moist, tough and firm in tearing, of the
same color within as without, and of a strong,
acrid, diffusive smell.
SAFFRON, the KOOKOG of the Greeks, crocus of
the Latins, and zadaran, or zahafaran of the Ara-
bians, was held in much estimation by the He-
brews, who called it carcom, and was greatly
celebrated in ancient times both by physicians
and poets. In medicine it was considered to be
very powerful, but it is not now much used.
Saffron imparts the whole of its virtues and
color to rectified spirit, proof spirit, wine, vine-
gar, and water. A tincture drawn with vinegar
loses greatly its color in keeping ; the watery
and vinous tinctures are apt to grow sour, and
then lose their color also ; that made in pure
spirit keeps in perfection for many years.
SAFFRON, BASTARD. See CARTHAMUS.
SAFFBON, MEADOW. See COLCHICUM.
SAFFRON WALDEN, a market-town and parish
of Essex, twelve miles north from Bishop's
Stortford, and forty-two north-east from London.
The church is a fine old Gothic building, and
there are Presbyterian, Baptist, and Quakers'
meeting-houses, with several well-endowed alms-
houses, and a free-school. A considerable trade
is carried on in malting, and in the manufacture
of bolting-cloths, checks, fustians, &c. The town
is irregularly built and not paved. It was in-
corporated by Edward VI., and is governed by
a mayor and aldermen. The keep of its ancient
castle is still to be seen, and on the green behind
it is a singular work, called the Maze, consisting
of a number of concentric circles, with four out-
works issuing from the four sides, all cut in the
chalk, and supposed by Dr. Stukely to have
been a British place of exercise for the soldiery.
Audley-End, the seat of lord Braybrook, stands
on the site of a priory of Benedictines, and was
once a royal palace of great magnificence and
extent, but part of it has been pulled down.
Market on Saturday.
SAG, v. n. Goth, and Swed. siga. To hang
heavy.
The mind I say by, and the heart I bear,
Shall never sag with doubt, nor shake with fear.
Stiaksptare.
SAGA'CIOUS, adj. ~\ Lat. sagax. Quick
SAGA'CIOUSLY, adv. f of scent or thought,
SAGA'CIOUSNESS, n. s. f with of: the adverb
SAGAC'ITY. J and noun substantives
corresponding.
So scented the grim feature, and up turned
His nostrils wide into the murky air ;
Sagacious ojf his quarry from so far. Milton.
\\ith might and main they chased the murd'rous
fox,
Nor wanted horns t' inspire sagacunu hounds.
Dry den.
Only sagacious heads light on these observations,
and reduce them into general propositions. Locke.
Sagacity finds out the intermediate ideas, to dis-
cover what connection there is in each link of the
chain, whereby the extremes are held together. Id.
It requires too great a sagacity for vulgar minds to
draw the line nicely between virtue and vice. South.
SAG
231
SAG
SAGAN, in Scripture history, the suffragan or
deputy of the Jewish high-priest. According to
some writers, he was only to officiate for him
when he was rendered incapable of attending
the service through sickness or legal uncleanness
on the day of expiation ; or, according to
others, he was to assist the high-priest in the care
of the affairs of the temple and the service of
the priests.
SAGAPENUM, in pharmacy, &c., a gum-
resin brought to us in two forms ; the finer and
purer is in loose granules or single drops; the
coarser kind is in masses composed of these
drops of various sizes cemented together. In
either case it is of a firm and compact substance,
considerably heavy, and of a reddish color on the
outside, brownish within, and spotted in many
places with small yellowish or whitish specks.
Its smell is strong and disagreeable ; its taste
acrid and unpleasant. It is imported from Per-
sia and the East Indies. The plant which pro-
duces it is supposed to be of the ferula kind,
from the seeds and fragments of the stalks some-
times met with in the body of it. Its dose is
from ten grains to two scruples ; but it is now
seldom given alone. It is an ingredient in the
theriaca, mithridate, and many other composi-
tions of the shops.
SAGARA, the ancient Helicon of Greece,
stands a few miles to the north of the gulf of
Corinth. It is of considerable height, and its
scenery is picturesque. Here may still be traced
the fountains of Aganippe and Hippocrene, the
stream of Permessus, and the village of Ascra,
the birth-place of Hesiod, now also called, after
the mountain, Sagara. From its top may be seen
a great part of Greece.
SAGE, adj. & n. s. \ Fr. sage ; Ital . saggio;
SAGE'LY, adv. £ Lat. sagax. Wise ; grave ;
SAGE'LINESS, n. s. r prudent : a man of gra-
vity or wisdom : the adverb and noun substan-
tive corresponding.
Though you profess
Yourselves such sage* ; yet know I no less,
Nor am to you inferior. Sandys.
Tired limbs to rest,
0 matron sage, quoth she, I hither came.
Faerie Queene.
Vane, young in years, but in sage councils old,
Than whom a better senator ne'er held
The helm of Rome. Milton.
At his birth a star proclaimed him come,
And guides the eastern sages, who enquire
His place, to offer incense, myrrh, and gold. Id.
Can you expect that she should be so sage
To rule her blood, and you not rule your rage ?
Waller.
Groves, where immortal tages taught,
Where heav'nly visions Plato fired. Pope.
1 grant it dangerous, and approve your fear,
That fire is catching if you draw too near ;
But sage observers oft mistake the flame,
And give true piety that odious name. Cowper.
SAGE, n. s. Fr. sauge ; Lat. salvia. A plant
of which the school of Salernum thought so
highly that they left this verse : —
Cur moriatur homo cui salvia crescit in horto 1
Johnson.
By the color, figure, taste, and smell , we have
as clear ideas of sage and hemlock, as we have of a
circle Locke.
Marbled with tage the hard'ning cheese she pressed,
Gay.
SAGE, in botany. See SALVIA.
SAGE TREE. See PHILOMIS.
SAGE (Alan Rene Le), a celebrated French
writer, born at Ruys, in Brittany, in 1667. He
was a complete master of the French and Spa-
nish languages, and wrote several admired
novels in imitation of the Spanish authors. These
were, The Bachelor of Salamanca, 2 vols. 12mo. ;
•New adventures of Don Quixote, 2 vols. 12mo. ;
The Devil« on Two Sticks, 2 vols. 12mo. ; and
Gil Bias, 4 vols. 12mo. He produced also some
comedies, and died in 1747, near Paris.
SAGHALIEN, called also Oku Jessp, the
Upper Jesso, and by the natives Tchoka, a large
island at the eastern extremity of Asia, imme-
diately to the north of the island of Jesso. It is
about 450 miles in length from north to south,
and from forty to 130 in breadth from east to
west, separated from the continent by a narrow
channel, called the channel of Tartary. It has
become a subject of controversy among naviga-
tors whether this channel extends along the
whole western coast, thus forming Saghalien into
an island, or whether there be an isthmus con-
necting it with Tartary, rendering it a penin-
sula. D'Anville, in his maps, describes it some-
times one way and sometimes the other ; and
though Peyrouse entered ihe channel, he was
obliged, by adverse winds, to quit it before ex-
amining its whole extent. On enquiring of the
people of Saghalien itself, he was assured that
it was an island, separated from the continent
only by a narrow strait. The people of Tartary,
on the other hand, asserted that Saghalien was
connected with the continent by an isthmus of
sand. Peyrouse, on the whole, was led to con-
clude that there was a strait, but so obstructed
by sand and sea-weed as to be scarcely passable.
Some geographers are of opinion that all the
circumstances may be best accounted for, by
supposing a very narrow and winding strait se-
parating the two coasts. This is the delineation
followed in the Chinese and Japanese maps.
Saghalien, late Jesso, appears to be very
mountainous towards the centre, and on the
eastern coast. To the south of 51° the country
becomes more level, and exhibits only sand-hills.
Here th^e soil exhibits a vigorous vegetation, and
is covered with forests of pine, oak, willow, and
birch. The surrounding sea and the rivers pro-
duce an extraordinary quantity of fish. Roses,
angelica, and other flowers, flourish on the hills.
The eastern coast, along which the Russian na-
vigator Krusenstern sailed, appeared to be nearly
destitute of inhabitants. Peyrouse gives a very
favorable account of those with whom he had
intercourse. They sail in boats of willow bark,
similar to those made on the neighbouring island
of Jesso. The north-east coast, opposite to the
mouth of the Saghalien, is occupied by a colony
of Mantchou Tartars. The Japanese had formed
a colony in the bay of Aniwa, at the southern
extremity of the island ; but it has been destroyed
by the Russians.
SAGINA, in botany, pearl-wort, a genus of the
tetragynia order, and tetrandria class of plants; na-
tural ordor twenty-second, caryophylleae : CAL. te-
SAG
232
SAG
traphyllous ; petals four : CAPS, unilocular, quad-
rivalved, and polyspermous. Species five, four
common in our own country.
SAGITTA, in astronomy, the arrow or dart, a
constellation of the northern hemisphere, near the
eagle. See ASTRONOMY.
SAGITTAL, adj. & n. s. J Lat. sagitta, an
SAG'ITTARY, n. *. t arrow. Belonging
to an arrow : in anatomy, a suture so called from
its resemblance to an arrow: sagittary is the
fabled CENTAUR, which see.
His wound was between the tagittal and coronal
sutures to the bone. Wiseman's Surgery.
The dreadful sagittary
Appals our numbers.
Shakrpeare. Troilus and Cressida.
SAGITTARIA, arrow head, a genus of the
polyandria order, and monoecia class of plants ;
natural order fifth, tripetaloideae : MALE CAL.
triphyllous : COR. tripetalous ; the filaments ge-
nerally about fourteen : FEMALE CAL. triphyl-
lous : COR. tripetalous ; pistils many : SEEDS
many and naked. Species five, of which the
most remarkable is the
S. sagittifolia, growing naturally in many parts
of England. The root is composed of many
strong fibres, which strike into the mud ; the
foot-stalks of the leaves are in length propor-
tionable to the depth of the water in which they
grow; sometimes almost a yard long; they are
thick and fungous ; the leaves, which float upon
the water, are shaped like the point of an arrow,
the two ears at their base spreading wide asunder.
The flowers are produced upon long stalks which
rise above the leaves, standing in whorls round
them at the joints. They consist of three broad
white petals, with a cluster of stamina in the
middle, which have purple summits. There is
always a bulb at the lower part of the root,
growing in the sol id earth beneath the mud. This
bulb constitutes a considerable part of the food
of the Chinese ; and upon that account they
cultivate it. Horses, goats, and swine, eat it ;
cows are not fond of it.
SAGITTARIUS, the archer, in astronomy, the
ninth sign in the zodiac, marked thus $ . The
stars in this constellation are in the Britannic
Catalogue fifty-two, in Tycho Brahe's sixteen,
and in Ptolemy's thirty-two.
SAGO is a simple brought from the East Indies,
of considerable use as a restorative diet. It is
produced from a species of palm tree, growing
in the East Indies. The progress of its vegeta-
tion in the early stages is very slow. At first it
is a mere shrub, thick set with thorns ; but, as
soon as its stem is once formed, it rises in a short
time to thirty feet, is about six feet in circum-
ference, and imperceptibly loses its thorns. Its
ligneous bark is about an inch in thickness, and
covers a multitude of long fibres ; which, being
interwoven one with another, envelope a mass
of a gummy kind of meal. As soon as this tree
is ripe, a whitish dust, which transpires through
the pores of the leaves, and adheres to their ex-
tremities, proclaims its maturity. The Malays
then cut it down near the root, divide it into
several sections, and then scoop out the mass of
mealy substance, which is enveloped by, and ad-
to the fibres; they dilute it in water, and
then pass it through a straining bag of fine
cloth, to separate it from the fibres. When thrs
paste has lost part of its moisture, by evapo-
ration, the Malays throw it into earthen vessels,
of different shapes, where they allow it to dry
and harden. This paste is wholesome nourishing
food ; the Indians eat it diluted with water, and
sometimes baked or boiled. A jelly is some-
times made of it, which is white and of a
delicious flavor. An inferior kind of sago is made
in the West Indies from the pith of the areca.
SAGOR, an island of Bengal, from time im-
memorial a celebrated place of Hindoo pil-
grimage. It is situated at the junction of the
Bhagurutty River, the most sacred branch of the
Ganges, with the ocean. Till recently many
persons annually devoted themselves, and sacri-
ficed their children at this place, to the sharks
and alligators. The island is not inhabited, but
the Brahmins repair at the appointed season to
the temple, followed by the pilgrims. A society
in Calcutta has lately taken a lease of this island
from the East India Company, and engaged to
clear and bring it into a state of cultivation. Its
south point is is in long. 88° 20' E., lat. 21°
34' N.
SAGREDO (John), a noble Venetian, of an
ancient family, who flourished in the seventeenth
century. He became procurator of St. Mark,
and was elected doge of Venice in 1675 ; but
resigned because his election was not approved
by the people. He was sent ambassador to
several European courts. In 1677 he published
a History of the Ottoman Empire ; which is es-
teemed a very faithful compilation.
SAGUENAY, a river of Canada, tributary to
the St. Lawrence, into which it flows, on the
west bank, at the town and harbour of Tadousac.
It draws its source from Lake St. John, receiving
many large rivers that flow from the north and
north-west, from an immense distance in the in-
teripr.
SAGUM, in Roman antiquity, a military
habit, open from top to bottom, and usually
fastened on the right shoulder with a buckle or
clasp. It was not different in shape from the
chlamysof the Greeks and the paludamentumof
the generals. The only difference between them
was, that the paludamentum was made of a
richer stuff, was generally of a purple color, and
rather longer and fuller than the sagum. Some
authors have defined the sagum as a military
tunic, but several passages of Tacitus and Pliny
show that it was without sleeves, and was more
ample than the tunic. The emperor Caracalla
had invented, or imitated from the Gauls, a par-
ticular kind of sagum, to which the emperor's
name was assigned ; and so fond is he represented
to have been of this garment that he preferred
it to any other, distributed a large number among
the people and soldiers, and even required that
all who approached his presence should wear this
vestment.
The precise form of the Caracalla is not now
to be ascertained. It has been described as a
garment made of several pieces diversely em-
broidered, and descending to the heels, except-
ing in the instance of the soldiers who wore it
shorter.
SAH
233
SAI
SAGUNTUM, or SAGUNTUS, an ancient town
of Spain, now called Morvedro, where there are
still the ruins of a Roman amphitheatre. Sa-
guntum is celebrated in history as having been
the cause of the second Punic war, and for its
attachment to the Romans. Hannibal took it
after a siege of about eight months ; and the in-
habitants, not to fall into the enemy's hands, set
fire to their'houses, and all their effects, and pe-
rished in the flames. The conqueror afterwards
rebuilt it, and, as some suppose, called it Spar-
tagene.
SAHARA, a name sometimes given to the
great African desert, or the immense tract of
territory in Northern and Central Africa, inter-
posed between the states of Barbary and Soudan.
In its greatest length it stretches nearly across
the whole of Africa, from the Atlantic to the
Nile, forming a space of 45° of long., or about
3000 miles. Its breadth from Barbary to Soudan
may be estimated at 15°, or 1000 miles. It
forms thus by much the most extensive desert to
be found in any part of the world, and has al-
ready been treated of under the article AFRICA.
The only impulse by which man has been led to
traverse these dreary wilds is lhat of commerce;
and the chief means for this have been afforded
by that most useful animal the camel. The
'ordinary trade is carried on by merchants, inured
from their infancy to that train of hardship and
difficulty which attends these journeys, and who,
for the sake of mutual aid, proceed in caravans
or large bodies, sometimes amounting to the
number of 2000. Their food consists of the
milk of the camel, with barley-meal or Indian
corn, a few dates, or dried flesh and coffee.
Water is conveyed in goat-skins covered with tar.
At each of the oases, or spots affording water,
which occur at distant intervals along the waste,
they stop for a few days to take in a supply.
The greatest evil which they have to fear is when,
in consequence of a peculiarly dry season, one
of these happens to fail of water. A caravan
from Morocco, consisting of 2000 men, with
1800 camels, entirely perished in this way in
1798. The caravans take their departure from
every part of Northern Africa ; but the three
grand points of rendezvous are Cairo, Mourzouk,
and the south frontier of Morocco. Cairo sends
three great caravans into the interior ; one to
Sennaar, partly along the Nile, but chiefly across
the deserts on either side ; another proceeds to
Darfur, through an extensive desert, by the Great
Oasis, Sheb, and Selyme. It sends one also to
Mourzouk, which communicates with those de-
spatched thence in the countries on the Niger.
Mourzouk sends two great caravans, one to Bor-
nou, and one to Cassina, and holds intercourse
with Tombuctoo on a smaller scale.
The sea coast of the Sahara is for the most
part rocky and destitute of harbours. Hence a
considerable number of European vessels suffer
shipwreck, and are cast ashore here ; when the
crews are generally stripped of every thing, and
reduced to a state of cruel bondage. Their only
hope of relief is from being carried over the
desert to be sold in Morocco, whence European
merchants frequently send them home. r
SAID orSAiiiD, a name applied to Upper
Egypt, comprehending the valley of the Nile,
from the vicinity of Cairo to the frontier of
Nubia. It consists throughout of a plain only a
few miles broad, enclosed between the chains of
mountains which extend parallel with the Nile,
and is exceedingly fertile, particularly in grain,
and in antiquities.
SAIDA, the port of Damascus, the ancient
SIDON, see that article.
SAIL, n. s., v.n.&v.a. ^ Sax. pe^l; Belg.
SAII/ER, or ^seyhel, se.yl ; Swed.
SAIL'OR, n. s. j segel. The canvas
sheet which catches the wind and carries on a
vessel ; a ship or vessel ; wings ; any number of
ships : to sail is, to move by means of sails ; put
out to sea ; pass by sailing : a sailer, a seaman.
Fearing lest they should fall into the quicksands,
they strake sail, and so were driven. Acts xxvii. 17.
When sailing was now dangerous, Paul admo-
nished them. Acts.
He cutting way
With his broad sails about him soared round ;
At last, low stooping with u-nwieldy sway,
Snatched up both horse and man. Faerie Queent.
He came too late ; the ship was under tail.
Shakspeare.
So by a roaring tempest on the flood,
A whole armado of collected sail
Is scattered. «..
Speak again, bright angel ! for thou art
As glorious to this sight, being o'er my head,
As is a winged messenger from heaven,
When he bestrides the lazy-pacing clouds,
And sails upon the bosom of the air. Id.
It is written of Edgar, that he increased the fleet
he found to two thousand six hundred sail.
Raleigh's Essays.
They had many times men of other countries that
were no sailors. Bacon.
A feigned tear destroys us, against whom
Tydides nor Achilles could prevail,
Nor ten years' conflict, nor a thousand tail.
Denham.
The galley borne from view by rising gales,
She followed with her sight and flying sails.
Dryden.
Battered by his lee they lay ;
The passing winds through their torn canvass play,
And flagging sails on heartless sailors fall. II.
I shall not mention any thing of the sailing wag-
gons. Mortimer.
View Alcinous' groves, from whence
Sailing the spaces of the boundless deep,
To Ariconium precious fruits a/rived. Philip*.
A sail arrived
From Pompey's son, who through the realms of
Spain
Calls out for vengeance on his father's death.
Addison't Cato.
He had promised to his army, who were discou-
raged at the sight of Seleucus's fleet, consisting of
an hundred fail, that at the end of the summer they
should see a fleet of his of five hundred sail.
Arbuthnot on Coins.
Young Pompey built a |fleet of large ships, and
nad goodsailon, commanded by experienced captains.
Arbuthnot.
Sublime she sails
Th' aerial space, and mounts the winged gales.
Pope.
Full in the openings of the spacious main
It rides, and, lo ! descends the sailer train.
Id. Odyttey,
SAI
234
SAI
A SAIL, in navigation, is an assemblage of
several breadths of canvas sewed together by the
lists, and edged round with cord, fastened to the
yards of a ship, to make it drive before the wind.
See SHIPPING. The edges of the cloths, or
pieces, of which a sail is composed, are generally
sewed together with a double seam ; and the
whole is skirted round at the edges with a cord,
called the bolt-rope. Although the form of
sails is extremely different, they are all neverthe-
less triangular or quadrilateral figures. The for-
mer of these are sometimes spread by a yard, as
lateen-sails; and otherwise by a stay, as stay-
sails; or by a mast, as shoulder-of-mutton sails;
in all which cases the foremost leech or edge is
attached to the said yard, mast, or stay, through-
out its whole length. The latter, or those which
are four-sided, are either extended by yards, as
the principal sails of a ship ; or by yards and
booms, as the studding-sails, drivers, and ring-
sails ; or by gaffs and booms, as the main-sails
of sloops and brigantines. The principal sails are
the courses, or lower sails, the top-sails, which
are next in order above the courses, and the top-
gallant sails, which are above the top-sails.
Every yard in a ship has its proper sail, except
the cross-jack, which takes its name from the
yard ; and those which are not bent to the yard
are the flying jib, fore, foretop, main, maintop,
maintop-gallant, mizen, mizen top-mast, stay-
sails, main and maintop studding sails. In this
important art our law interferes minutely, eu-
joining by various acts of parliament that every
vessel first setting out to sea from Great Britain
or British America shall be furnished with one
full and complete set of sails of the manufacture
of Great Britain, under a penalty of fifty pounds.
These acts prescribe the manner in which sail-
cloth shall be manufactured as to breadth and
width. See SHIP-BUILDING.
To make sail is to spread an additional quan-
tity of sail, so as to increase the ship's velocity.
To set sail is to unfurl and expand the sails upon
their respective yards and stays, in order to begin
the action of sailing. To shorten sail, is to re-
duce or take in part of the sails, with an inten-
tion to diminish the ship's velocity. To strike
sail is to lower it suddenly. This is particularly
used in saluting or doing homage to a superior
force, or to one whom the law of nations ac-
knowledges as superior in certain regions. Thus
foreign vessels strike to a British man of war in
the British seas.
SAILING, the movement by which a vessel is
wafted through the water, by the action of the
wind upon her sails. When a ship changes her
state of rest into that of motion, as in advancing
out of a harbour, or from her station at anchor,
she acquires her motion very gradually, as a body
which arrives not at a certain velocity till after a
frequent repetition of the action of its weight.
The first impression of the wind greatly affects
the velocity, which being but small at first, the
resistance of the water which depends on it will
be very feeble ; but, as the ship increases her
motion, the force of the wind on the sails will
be diminished ; whereas, on the contrary, the
resistance of the water on the bow will accumu-
iutc in proportion to the velocity with which the
vessel advances. Thus the repetition of the de-
grees of force, which the action of the sails adds
to the motion of the ship, is perpetually in-
creasing ; whilst, on the contrary, the new degrees
added to the effort of resistance on the bow are
always augmenting. The velocity is then ac-
celerated in proportion as the quantity added is
greater than that which is subtracted ; but when
the two powers become equal ; when the im-
pression of the wind on the sails has lost so
much of its force, as only to act in proportion
to the opposite impulse of resistance on the
bow, the ship will then acquire no additional ve-
locity, but continue to sail with a constant uni-
form motion. The great weight of the ship may
indeed prevent her from acquiring her greatest
velocity ; but, when she has attained it, she will
advance by her own intrinsic motion, without
gaining any new degree of velocity, or lessening
what she has acquired. See TACTICS, NAVAL
and MILITARY, and NAVIGATION.
SAIMA, a large lake, or succession of lakes, in
European Russia, in the government of Finland,
to the north of Wilmanstrand . It is of very
irregular form, said to be 250 miles in length,
and of very various breadths. It contains a great
number of islands, consisting chiefly of granite,
and in general uninhabited. The lake of Lap-
wesi is a part of that of Saima.
SAINT, n. s. & v. a. \ Fr. saint ; Lat. sanc-
SAINT'ED, adj. I tus. A person emi-
SAINT'LIKE, > nent for piety ; to place
SAINT'LY, adv. i among saints ; canonize:
SAINT'SHIP, n. s. J sainted is holy; pious;
sacred: saintlike and saintly correspond, as also
the noun substantive following.
To thee be worship and thy mints for aye.
Shakrpeare
She will not stay the siege of loving terms,
Nor ope her lap to saint-seducing gold. Id.
I hold you as a thing enskied and tainted,
By your renouncement an immortal spirit,
And to be talked with in sincerity
As with a saint. Id.
The king, in whose time it passed, whom catholicks
count a saintlike and immaculate prince, was taken
away in the flower of his age. Bacon.
He that thinks las saintthip entitles him to cen-
sures is to be looked on not only as a rebel, but an
usurper. Decay of Piety.
The crown virtue gives,
After this mortal change, to her true servants,
Amongst the enthroned gods on tainted hills.
Miltt'H.
I mention still
Him whom thy wrongs, with saintly patience borne,
Made famous in a land and times obscure. Id.
If still thou dost retain
The same ill habits, the same follies too,
Glossed over only with a saintlike show,
Still thou art bound to vice. Dryden's Peniiis.
This savours something ranker than the tenets of
the fifth monarch, and of sovereignty founded upon
taintship. South.
Are not the principles of those wretches still
owned, and their persons sainted, by a race of men of
the same stamp 1 Id.
Miracles are required of all who aspire to this dig-
nity, because they say an hypocrite may imitate a
saint in all other particulars. Addium on Italy.
SAI
235
SAI
Over against the church stands a large hospital,
erected by a shoemaker, who has been beatified,
though never sainted. Addison.
By thy example, kings are taught to sway,
Heroes to fight, and saints may learn to pray.
Granville.
So unaffected, so composed a mind ;
So firm, yet soft, so strong, yet so refined,
Heaven, as its purest gold, by tortures tried ;
The saint sustained it, but the woman died. Pope.
Thy place is here ; sad sister ; come away :
Once, like thyself, I trembled, wept, and prayed,
Love's victim then, though now a sainted maid. Id.
The devil was piqued such saintship to behold,
And longed to tempt him. Id.
SAINTS (sancti), in the Romish church, holy
persons deceased, and, since their decease, ca-
nonised by the pope, after several informations
and ceremonies. One of the points wherein the
Roman Catholics and Protestants differ, is, that
the former address, invoke, and supplicate saints,
&c., to intercede for them ; whereas the latter
hold it sufficient to propose their good examples
for our imitation. It would seem that in the first
ages every bishop in his own diocese was wont
to declare what persons were to be honored as
saints by his people. Hence St. Cyprian, about
the middle of the third century, B. 5. ep. 6, re-
quires that he be informed of those who should
die in prison for the faith, that so he might make
mention of them in the holy sacrifice with the
martyrs, and might honor them afterwards on the
anniversary day of their happy death. It was
tlius that St. Laurence, St. Ambrose, St. Augus-
tine, St. Basil, and many others appear to have
been canonised by custom and universal per-
suasion. In those ages none were reckoned
saints but the apostles, the martyrs, and very
eminent confessors, whose sanctity was notorious
every where. Afterwards canonisations were
performed in provincial synods under the di-
rection of the metropolitan. It was thus that
St. Isidore of Seville was canonised in the se-
venth century, by the eighth council of Toledo,
fourteen years after his death. This method of
canonisation continued occasionally down to the
twelfth century. The last instance of a saint
canonised in that way is that of St. Walter, abbot
of Pontoise, who was declared a saint by the
archbishop of Rouen in 1 153. In the twelfth
century, to prevent mistakes in so delicate a
matter, pope Alexander III. judged it proper
to reserve this declaration to the holy see of Rome
exclusively ; and decreed that no one should for
the future be honored by the church as a saint,
without the express approbation of the pope.
Since that time the canonisation of saints has
been carried on in the form of a process ; and
there is at Rome a congregation of cardinals,
called the congreuation of holy rites, who are as-
sisted by several divines under the name of con-
suitors, who examine such matters, and prepare
them for the decision of his holiness. When,
therefore, any potentate, province, city, or re-
ligious body think fit, they apply to the pope for
the canonisation of any person. The first ju-
ridical step in this business must be taken by the
bishop in whose diocese the person for whom the
application is made had lived and died, who by
'iis own authority calls witnesses to attest the
holiness, the virtues, and miracles of the person
in question. This is succeeded by a tedious
process of enquiry into the character of the de-
ceased. Commissioners summon witnesses, take
depositions, and collect letters arid other writings
of the venerable man, and get all the intelli-
gence they can concerning him, and the opinion
generally entertained of him. Their report is
considered by the congregation, and every part
of it discussed by the consultors, when the con-
gregation determines whether or not they can
permit the process to go on. If it be allowed
to proceed, a cardinal, who is called ponent,
undertakes to be the principal agent in that af-
fair. There is also a distinguished ecclesiastic
called the promoter of the holy faith, who is
sworn to make all reasonable objections to the
proofs adduced in favor of the canonisation. If
the decision be favorable, then the proofs ot
miracles are permitted to be brought forward ;
when two miracles must be verified to the satis-
faction of the congregation, both as to the reality
of the facts, and as to their having been above
the power of nature. If the decision on this
point is likewise favorable, then the whole is laid
before the pope and what divines he chooses.
When the pope is resolved to give his approba-
tion, he issues a bull, first of beatification, by
which the person is declared blessed, and after-
wards another of sanctification, by which the
name of saint is given him. These bulls are
published in St. Peter's church with great so-
lemnity. After his canonisation, his name is in-
serted in the Martyrology, or catalogue of saints,
of which a portion is read every day in the
choir at the divine office. His name may be
mentioned in the public church service, and his
intercession with God besought. His relics may
be enshrined, &c. Canonisation is necessarily
very expensive, because so many persons must
be employed about it ; so many journeys must
be made ; so many writings for and against it
must be drawn out. The expense altogether
amounts to about 25,000 Roman crowns, or
£6000 sterling. But it is generally contrived to
canonise two or three at a time, by which means
the particular expense of each is very much
lessened, the solemnity being common. Several
authors have written on canonisation, particu-
larly Prosper Lambertini, afterwards pope under
the name of Benedict XIV. who had held the
office of promoter of the faith for many years.
He published on it a large work in several vo-
lumes, folio, of which there is an abridgment in
French.
ST. JOHN (Henry), lord Viscount Bolingbroke,
an eminent statesman and philosopher, descended
from an ancient and noble family, born about
the year 1672. He had a liberal education;
and when he left the university, contrary to the
inclinations of his family, he cultivated Tory
connexions ; and gained such influence in the
house of commons that in 1704 he was appointed
secretary of war and of the marines. He was
closely united in all political measures with Mr.
Harley : when, therefore, that gentleman was
removed from the seals in 1707, Mr. St. John
resigned; and in 1710, when Mr. Harley was
made chancellcr of the exchequer, he was made
SAI
236
SAK
secretary of state. In 1712 he was created oaron
St. John of Lediard-Tregoze in Wiltshire, and
Viscount Bolingbroke. But, not receiving when
he wished the ribbon of the order of the garter,
he renounced the friendship of Harley, then
earl of Oxford, and joined with the Whigs.
Nevertheless, on the accession of George I., the
seals were taken from him ; and, hearing that he
was to be impeached for his conduct in re-
gard to the treaty of Utrecht, he withdrew to
France. Here he accepted an invitation to enter
into the pretender's service, and accepted the
seals as secretary; but the year 1715 was scarcely
expired, when, though he was attainted of high
treason at home, the seals and papers of his
office were taken from him ; the Pretender and
his party accusing him of neglect, incapacity,
and treachery. While in France he wrote his
celebrated Reflections Upon Exile ; and in 1716
drew up a vindication of his conduct, in the form
of A Letter to Sir William Wyndham. His first
lady being dead, he married a niece of Madame
de Maintenon, and widow of the marquis de Vi-
lette, with whom he had a very large fortune.
In 1723 the king being prevailed on to grant
him a free pardon, he returned to England ; but
was by no means satisfied to remaiu a mere
titular lord, excluded from the house of peers.
This confirmed his enmity to Sir Robert Wai-
pole, to whom he attributed his not receiving the
full extent of the king's clemency : hence he
distinguished himself by a multitude of political
writings, till 1735, when he returned to France.
In this retreat he began his course of Letters on
the Study and Use of History, for the use of
lord Cornbury, to whom they are addressed.
Upon the death of his rather he settled at Batter-
sea, the ancient seat of his family, where he
passed the remainder of his life. He died in
1751, and left his MSS. to Mr. Mallet, who pub-
lished them with his former printed works, in 5
vol? ., 4to ; they are also printed in 8vo.
ST. JUST (Anthony), a political demagogue of
the French Revolution, associated in the crimes
and punishment of Robespierre. He was born
in 1760 and educated for the law. At the com
mencement of the revolution he was chosen a
d«puty to the convention from the department
of the Aisne, and voted for the death of Louis
XVI. : assisted materially in the destruction of
the Girondists, and was subsequently sent, as a
commissioner of the national convention, to the
army in Alsace, when, in conjunction with Lebas,
he carried to a great extent the system of terror
both among the troops and people. St. Just, on
his return to Paris, towards the close of 1793,
obtained great influence ; and Robespierre was
principally guided by his violent counsels. After
assisting in the overthrow of Danton and his
friends, he became justly involved in the ruin of
Robespierre, who rejected his advice in the last
struggle. He was guillotined July 28, 1794.
He was the author of Organ t, a poem in twenty
cantos, 1789, 2 vols. 8vo. ; Mes Passe-temps, ou
le Nouvel Organt de 1792, another licentious
poem ; and Fragments sur les Institutions Re-
puhlicaines, a posthumous work, 1800, 12mo. ;
besides reports to the National Convention, from
the Committees of General Surety and of Public
Safety. This wretch has beer sometimes con-
founded with Louis Leon St. just, who called
himself the marquis de Fontvielle, -and was the
author of a work, enli'led Esprit de la Revolu-
tion, et de la Constitution de France.
SAINTE MARTHE (Scevola), was born at
Loudun in 1536. He early acquired the Latin,
Greek, and Hebrew languages, and became cele-
brated as a lawyer, orator, poet, and historian.
He was much employed under Henry III. and IV.
In 1579 he was governor and treasurer of Pole-
tiers. In 1593 and 1594 he was intendant of
finances in the army, and reduced Poictiers under
Henry IV. He published 1. La Louange de la
Ville de Poictiers; 1573: 2. Opera Poetica;
Lat. et Gall.; 1575 : 3. Gallorum doctrina illus-
trium Elogia; 1598: and Paedotrophia, seu de
Puerorum Educatione; dedicated to Henry III.;
1584. This last work went through ten editions
during his life, and has been often reprinted.
He died in 1623; leaving several sons.
SAINTE MARTHE (Abel), eldest son of Sce-
vola, was born at Loudun in 1570; and culti-
vated like him Latin and French poetry. His
poems were printed with his father's in 1632,
4to. Louis XIII. gave him a pension ; made
him a counsellor of state; and, in 1627, made
him his librarian. He published Opuscula
Yaria, at Poictiers, in 8vo., 1645. He died in
1652.
SAINTES, a considerable and ancient town
in the south-east of France, in the department of
the Lower Charente, near the river of that name.
It was, in the time of the Romans, one of the
chief cities of Aquitaine, and subsequently the
capital of the province of Saintonge. Its aspect
from a distance is fine, but its streets are narrow
and winding, and its houses ill built ; it contains
a cathedral founded by Charlemagne, a Roman
amphitheatre, an aqueduct, and a triumphal arch
of white marble on the bridge across the Cha-
rente. Inhabitants 10,300. Forty-two miles
south-east of Rochelle.
SAKE, n. s. Sax. rac; Goth, sac; Belg.
saecke. Account; cause; end; purpose.
Would I were young for your sake, mistress Anne.
Shakspeare.
Thou neither do'st persuade me to seek wealth
For empire's sake, nor empire to affect
For glory's sake. Milton i Paradise Lost.
The profane person serves the devil for nought, and
sins only for sin's sake. Tillotton.
Wyndham like a tyrant throws the dart,
And takes a cruel pleasure in the smart ;
Proud of the ravage that her beauties make,
Delights in wounds, and kills for killing sake.
Granville.
SA'KER, n. s. Saker originally signified a
hawk : then a small piece of artillery.
According to observations made with one of her
rrajesty's sakers, and a very accurate pendulum chro-
nometer, a bullet, at its first discharge, flies five
hundred and ten yards in five half seconds, which is
a mile in a little above seventeen half seconds.
Derham's Physico-Tlteology.
The cannon, blunderbuss, andsafcer,
He was the inventor of and maker. Hudwras.
SA'KERET, n. t. From saker. The male of
a saker-hawk. This kind of hawk is esteemed
next after the falcon, and gyr-falcon. Bailey.
SAL 23
SAL, n. s. Lat. sal. Salt. A word often
used in pharmacy.
Acids will help its passing off ; as tal prunel.
Floyer.
Sal gem rt so called from its breaking frequently
into gemlike squares. It differs not in property
from the common salt of the salt springs or that of
the sea, when all are equally pure.
Woodward's Met. Foss.
SAL ALEMBROTH, a compound of muriate of
mercury and ammonia.
SAL AMMONIAC, muriate of ammonia. See
AMMONIA, AMMONIAC SAL, and MUBIATIC
ACID. This salt, according to Mongou, is met
with in the form of an efflorescence on ihe sur-
face of the earth, or adhering in powder to rocks.
Sometimes, as in Persia and the country of th'e
Kalmucks, it is found as hard as stone. It is
met with of different colors, as gray, black, green,
and red, in the neighbourhood of volcanoes, in
the caverns or grottos of Puzzuoli, and in the
mineral lakes of Tuscany, as well as in some
mountains of Tartary and Thibet. At Solfaterra,
near Naples, it is found in the crevices, of a yel-
lowish color, like common sal ammoniac that
has been often sublimed.
SAL PRCNELLJE, nitrate of potass cast into
round balls or flat cakes after being fused.
SALACIA, in- botany, a genus of the trigynia
order, and gynandria class of plants : CAL. quin-
quefid : COR. quinquepetalous; antherne on the
lop of the germ. Species two, natives of China.
SALA'CIOUS, adj. ( Fr. solace ; Lat. salax.
SALA'CITY, n. s. \ Lustful: lecherous;
lust.
Immoderate salacity and excess of venery is sup-
posed to shorten the lives of cocks.
Browne'* Vulgar Errours.
One more »aJacfoi/s, rich, and old,
Out-bids, and buys her. Dryden't Juvenal.
A corrosive acrimony in the seminal lympha pro-
duces salacity. Flayer on the Humours.
Animals. spleened, grow extremely salacioui.
Arbnthnot.
SALAD, n. s. Fr. sulade. Food of raw
herbs. It has been generally pronounced sallet.
I climbed into this garden to pick a salad, which
is not amiss to cool a man's stomach.
Shakspeare. Henry VI.
My sallet days,
\Yhcn I was green in judgment, cold in blood.
Shakspeare.
You have, to rectify your palate,
An olive, capers, some better salad,
Ushering the mutton. Ben Jonson.
I tried upon sallet oil. Boyle.
Some coarse cold salad is before thee set ;
Fall on. Dryden's Persiut.
Sow some early toileting. Mortimer'i Husbandry.
Leaves eaten raw are termed talad ; if boiled they
become potherbs ; and some of those plants which
are potherbs in one familv are salad in another.
Watts.
SALADILLO, a river of Buenos Ayres, which
rises in vast plains in the interior, and, running
to the south-east, falls into the sea near the
mouth of the La Plata, on the southern side.
SALADIN, a sultan of Egypt, equally re-
ifowned as a warrior and legislator. He sup-
ported himself by his valor against the united
efforts of the chief Christian potentates of Europe,
SAL
who carried on the most unjust wars against
him, under the false appellation of Holy Wars.
See CRUSADE.
SALADO, an abundant river of South Ame-
rica, in the province of Tucun.an, which has its
rise from many streams flowing down the west-
ern declivity of the Andes, in lat. 24° S. It
derives its name from the salt with which its
waters are impregnated.
SALAMANCA, a province of Spain, forming
the south part of the kingdom of Leon, and bor-
dering on Portugal ; between 5° and 7° of W .
long., and 40° and 41° 38' of N. lat. It has a
superficial extent of 1500 square miles, consist-
ing partly of a dead flat, destitute of trees, and
deficient in water ; partly, particularly in the
south, of lofty mountains, where are found the
Sierras of Francia, Bejar, Gredos, Gata, and
Puerto del Pico. It is watered by the Douro,
the Aguedar, the Yeltes, the Tormes, and the
Alagon, and contains the small lake of Gredos.
The climate is in general dry and" hot ; but the
mountains are rich in minerals, and the more
favorable exposures produce vines, and other
fruits of a warm climate. The wool of this pro-
vince is good ; the best pastures being allotted
to the Merino breed of sheep. Inhabitants
200,000. The contraband trade with Portugal
is very considerable.
SALAMANCA, an ancient city of Spain, is si-
tuated on the ascent of three hills, having the
river Tormes at their base. The environs are
pleasant, and, along with the numerous spires
of the city, are happily contrasted with the sur-
rounding monotonous country. The town has
a wall, thirteen gates, several squares and foun-
tains, and a number of massy buildings ; but the
streets are all on uneven ground, and often in
want of water. The houses are uniform, and of
a good height, with balconies in front ; and one
of the sides of the great square is occupied by
the town-house. Other public buildings are the
cathedral, university, churches, and convents.
The cathedral is a majestic Gothic edifice, en-
tered by a fine gate, and admired in the interior
for the boldness of the arches, and the finished
character of the sculpture. The bishop's see is
of very remote date.
The university was founded in 1239, and had
long a considerable reputation. The buildings
are still extensive, consisting of twenty-five col-
leges, and the number of professional chairs fully
sixty; while the students do not at present ex-
ceed 300 or 400.
Here are various vestiges of antiquity, in par-
ticular a Roman road leading to Merida, and a
Roman bridge over the Tormes, of twenty-seven
arches, and about 500 feet in length. The banks
of the river, and the country to the west of Sa-
lamanca, were the scene of an engagement be-
tween the British under lord Wellington, and
the French under Marmont, in July 1812. Sa-
lamanca is 153 miles W.N.W. of Madrid.
SALAMANCA, a small town of Mexico, in the
intendancy of Guanaxuato, situated in a rising
plain, at the height of 7075 feet above the level
of the sea. It is about seventy miles N.N.W.
of Valladolid, and 150 north-west of Mexico.
Also, formerly, a city of South America, in the
SAL
233
SAL
kingdom of New Granada, and province of Santa
Martha, of which little remains bnt a small vil-
lage.
SAL'AMANDER, n. s. ^ Fr. salumandre ;
SALAMAN'DRINE, adj. i Lzt. sahmundra. An
animal supposed to live in the fire, and imagined
to be very poisonous : salamandrine, capable of
bearing fire unhurt.
The salamander liveth in the fire, and hath force
also to extinguish it. Bacon's Xatural History.
There may be such candles as are made of sala-
mander's wool, being a kind of mineral, which
whiteneth in the burning, and consumeth not.
Bacon.
According to this hypothesis, the whole lunar
world is a torrid zone, and may be supposed uninha-
bitable, except they are salamanders which dwell
theiein. Glanville's Scepsis.
Whereas it is commonly said that a salamander ex-
tinguisheth fire, we have found by experience that
on hot coals it dieth immediately.
Bratcne's Vulgar Errcnrt.
Laying it into a pan of burning coals, we ob-
served a certain lalamandrine quality, that made it
capable of living in the midst of fire, without being
consumed or singed. Spectator.
The artist was so encompassed with fire and smoke
that one would have thought nothing but a salaman-
der could have been safe in such a situation.
Addisont Guardian,
Of English talc, the coarser sort is called plaister
or parget ; the finer, spaad, earth flax, or salamander's
hair. Woodward.
SALAMANDER. See LACERTA.
SALAMIS, an island of the archipelago, in
the Sinus Saronicus, on the south coast of- At-
tica, opposite to Eleusis ; celebrated for a battle
between the Greek and Persian fleets. In the
council of war held before this battle, among the
Persians, queen Artemisia was the only person
who opposed their design of engaging. She was
queen of Halicarnassus, and followed Xerxes in
this war with five ships, the best equipped of
any in the fleet, except those of the Sidonians.
She represented in the council of war the dan-
gerous consequences of engaging a people far
more expert in maritime affairs than the Per-
sians; alleging that the loss of a battle at sea
would be attended with the ruin of their army ;
whereas, by lengthening out the war, and ad-
vancing into the heart of Greece, they would
create jealousies and divisions among their ene-
mies, who would separate to defend each his
own country ; and that the king might thus
make himself master of Greece. This prudent
advice was not followed, but an engagement was
resolved upon. Xerxes, to encourage his men,
caused a throne to be erected on the top of an
eminence, whence he might safely behold what-
ever happened ; having several scribes about
him, to write down the names of such as should
signalise themselves. The approach of the Per-
sian fleet, with the news that a strong detach-
ment from the army was marching against Cle-
ombrotus, who defended the isthmus, struck such
terror into the Peloponnesians that they could
tiot lie prevailed upon to stay any longer at Sa-
lam is, but insisted on returning to their own
country. Themistocles, hearing of this, privately
•lesnatched a trusty friend to the Persian com-
mai.ders, informing them of the intended flight,
and exhorting them to send part of their fket
round the island, to prevent their escape. The
same messenger assured Xerxes that Themis-
tocles designed to join the Persians, as soon as
the battle began, with all the Athenian ships.
The king, giving credit to this, immediately
caused a strong squadron to sail round the island
in the night to cut off the enemy's retreat.
Early next morning, as the Peloponnesians were
preparing to set sail, they found themselves en-
compassed on all sides by the Persian fleet, and
were against their inclination compelled to re-
main in the straits of Salamis and expose them-
selves to the same dangers with their allies. As
to the number of the Persian ships the poet I -
chylus speaks of it in his tragedy of Perszs as a
matter he was well assured of:
A thousand ships (for well I know the number
The Persian flag obeyed), two hundred more
And seven, o'erspread the seas.
The Athenians had only 180 galleys, each car-
ried eighteen men that fought upon deck, four of
whom were archers and the rest heavy armed.
Themistocles avoided the engagement till a cer-
tain wind, which rose regularly every day at the
same time, began to blow. As soon as this wind
blew he gave the signal for battle. The Per-
sians advanced with great resolutions, but the
wind blowing directly in their faces, and the
largeness and number of their ships embarrassing
them in a place so narrow, they were thrown
into disorder; which the Greeks observing, broke
into the Persian fleet ; some of whom fled to-
wards Phalarus, where their army lay encamped ;
others saving themselves in the harbours of the
neighbouring islands. Queen Artemisia distin-
guished herself, her ships being the last that fled :
which Xerxes observing, cried out that the men
behaved like women, and the women with the
courage and intrepidity of men. The Athenians
offered a reward of 10,000 drachmas to any one
that should take her alive, but she got clear of the
ships and arrived safe on the coast of Asia. In
this engagement the Grecians lost forty ships ;
and the Persians 200, besides many more that
were captured. Pausanias says that on one side of
this island stood in his time a temple of Diana,
and on the other a trophy for a victory obtained
by Themistocles, together with the temple of
Cenchreus, or Cychreus, the site of which is now
thought to be occupied by the church of St.
Nicholas.
SALAMIS, the capital of the above island. This
city was demolished by the Athenians, because
in the war with Cassander it surrendered to the
Macedonians. In the second century, when it
was visited by Pausanias, some ruins of the
Agora or market-place remained, with a temple
and image of Ajax ; and not far from the port
was shown a stone, on which they related Tela-
mon sat to view the Salaminian ships on their
departure to join the Grecian fleet at Aulis.
The walls may still be traced, and were about
four miles in circumference. The level space
within them is now covered with green corn.
The port is choked with mud, and was partly
dry. Among the scattered marbles are some with
inscriptions. On one, near the port, the name
SAL
239
SAL
of Solon 'occurs. This renowned lawgiver was
a native of Salamis, and a statue of him was
erected in the market-place, with one hand co-
vered by his vest, the modest attitude in which
he was accustomed to address the • people of
Athens. The island of Salamis is now inhabited
by a few Albanians, who till the ground.
SALAMIS, SALAMINA, or SALAMJNIA, an an-
cient town of Cyprus on the south-east coast.
It was built by Teucer, and so named by him
from the island from which he had been ba-
nished, about A. A. C. 1270. His descendants
continued masters of it for above 800 years. It
was destroyed by an earthquake, but rebuilt in
the fourth century, and called Constantia. It is
now called Salina.
SALAMIS, in the mythology, a daughter of the
river god Asopus, by the nymph Methone. Nep-
tune became enamoured of her, and carried her
to the island afterwards named from her, where
she bore him a son, named Cenchreus.
SALAPIA, or SALAPIJE, in ancient geography,
a town of Italy, in Apulia ; to which Hannibal
retired after the battle of Cannae. It was after-
wards taken from him by Marcellus.
SAL'ARY, n. s. Fr. salaire ; Lat. solarium.
Stated hire ; annual or periodical payment of
money.
This is hire and salary, not revenge. Shukspeare.
Several persons, out of a salary of five hundred
pounds, have always lived at the rate of two thou-
sand. Swift.
SALASSI, an ancient people of Gallia Cisal-
pina, who were often at war with the Romans.
In A. U. C. 610 they cut off an army of 10,000
Romans under Appius Claudius ; but were soon
after defeated, and at last totally subdued, and
sold as slaves by Augustus. Their country was
settled by a Roman colony, and called Pretoria
Augusta.
SALE, n. s. ~\ Goth, sala ; Belg. saal.
SALE'ABLE, adj. I The act or power of selling ;
SALE'ABLY, adv. Vvent; market; public rnar-
SALES'MAN, n. s. i ket ; auction ; price : used
SALE'WORK. } by Spenser for a sale bas-
ket : the derivatives correspond : sale-work is,
work merely for sale ; careless work.
Nothing doth more enrich any country than many
towns ; for the countrymen will be more industrious
in tillage, and rearing of all husbandry commodities,
knowing that they shall have ready tale for them at
Jiose towns. Spenser.
To make baskets of bulrushes was my wont ;
Who to entrap the fish in winding sale
"Was better? Id.
The other is not a thing for sale, and only the gift
of the gods. Shakipeare. Cvmbeline.
I see no more in you than in the ordinary
Of Nature's tale-work. Id. As You Like It.
I can impute this general enlargement of saleable
things to no cause sooner than the Cornishman's
want of vent and money. Carew.
Others more moderate seeming, but their aim
Private reward ; for which both God and state
They'd set to sale. Milton's Agvniste*.
Those that won the plate, and those thus sold,
ought to be marked so as they may never return to
the race or to the sale. Temple.
This vent is made quicker or slower as greater or
less quantities of any saleable commodity are removed
out of the course of trade. Locke.
The more money a man spends, the more must he
endeavour to increase his stock ; which at last set*
the liberty of a commonwealth to sale. Additm.
Poets make characters, as salesmen cloaths ;
We take no measure of your fops and beaus. Swift.
SALE is the exchange of a commodity for
money; barter, or permutation, is the exchange
of one commodity for another. When the bar-
gain is concluded, an obligation is contracted by
the buyer to pay the value, and by the seller to
deliver the commodity at the time and place
agreed on, or immediately, if no time be speci-
fied. In this, as well as other mercantile con-
tracts, the safety of commerce requires the utmost
good faith and veracity. Therefore, although,
by the laws of England, a sale above the value
of £10 be not binding, unless earnest be paid,
or the bargain be confirmed by writing, a mer-
chant would lose all credit who refused to per-
form his agreement, although these legal requi-
sites were omitted. When a specific thing is
sold, the property, even before delivery, is in
some respect vested in the buyer ; and, if the
thing perishes, the buyer must bear the loss.
For example, if a horse dies before delivery, he
must pay the value ; but, if the bargain only de-
termines the quantity and quality of the goods,
without specifying the identical articles, and the
seller's warehouse with all his goods be burned,
he is entitled to no payment. He must also
bear the loss if the thing perish through his
fault. If a person purchase goods at a shop
without agreeing for the price, he is liable for the
ordinary market-price at the time of purchase.
If the buyer prove insolvent before delivery,
the seller is not bound to deliver the goods with-
out payment or security. If the importation, or
use of the commodities sold, be prohibited by
law, or if the buyer knows that they were smug-
gled, no action lies for delivery. The property
of goods is generally presumed, in favor of com-
merce, to belong to the possessor, and cannot be
challenged in the hands of an onerous purchaser.
But to this there are some exceptions. By the
Scotch law stolen goods may in all cases be re-
claimed by the proprietor, and also by the Eng-
lish law, unless they were bought bona fide in
open market ; that is, in the accustomed public
places, on stated days in the country, or in a shop
in London ; and horses may be reclaimed, un-
less the sale be regularly entered by the book-
keeper of the market. In all cases, if the goods
be evicted by the lawful proprietor, the seller is
liable to the purchaser for the value. Actions
for payment of shop-accounts, as well as other
debts not constituted by writing, are limited in
England to six years. The testimony of one
witness is admitted ; and the seller's books, al-
though the person that kept them be dead, are
good evidence for one year. In Scotland mer-
chants' books may be proved within three years
of the date of the last article, by one witness,
and the creditor's books, and oath in supple-
ment. After three years they can only be proved
by the oath or writ of the debtor. A merchant's
books are in all cases good evidence against him.
SALE (George), a learned English author, one
of the writers in the Universal History, all the
oriental part of which he compiled. He was
SAL
240
SAL
also engaged in other important literary labors ;
but his chief work is The Koran of Mahomet,
which he translated into English from the ori-
ginal Arabic, and enriched with explanatory
notes from the most approved commentators ;
and to which he prefixed a Preliminary Dis-
course; London, 4to. 1733. Mr. Sale died in
1736.
SALEM, a post town of Rockingham county,
New Hampshire, thirty-five miles north of Bos-
ton, and thirty-five south-west of Portsmouth.
Here is a woollen manufactory.
SALEM, a sea-port town of the United States,
capital of Essex county, Massachusetts, four
miles and a half north-west of Marblehead,
fourteen N. N. E. of Boston, twenty-four south
of Newburyport. It is chiefly built on a tongue
of land formed by two inlets from the sea, called
North and South rivers ; over the former of
which is a bridge, upwards of 1500 feet long,
connecting Salem with Beverly, and the latter
forms the harbour. The harbour has good an-
chorage, but the water is so shallow that vessels
drawing more than twelve or fourteen feet must
unload, in part, at a distance from the wharfs.
The situation of Salem is low, but pleasant ; it
is well built; and with regard to population,
wealth, and commerce, is the second town in
New England. It contains a court-house, jail,
alms-house, market-house, three banks, four
insurance-offices, a custom-house, a grammar
school, an orphan asylum, a bank for savings, a
museum, an athenaeum containing upwards of
5000 volumes well selected, and eleven houses
of public worship, six for Congregationalists,
two for Baptists, one for Episcopalians, one for
Friends, and one for Universalists. It has nu-
merous public and private schools, which are
well supported. None of the public buildings
are splendid : but the court-house, the market-
house, the alms-house, the custom-house, and
the grammar school-house, all of brick, and the
jail of stone, are spacious, handsome, and com-
modious. The churches are large, neat, and
convenient. Three of them are furnished with
organs, and six with steeples or cupolas. The
private houses have generally the appearance of
neatness, convenience, and comfort ; and many
of them indicate taste and opulence. The town
was formerly built almost entirely of wood, but
a large proportion of the houses erected within
the last twenty years are of brick.
The appearance of Salem is very irregular,
the streets having been laid out with little regard
to symmetry or beauty. In the northern part of
the town there is a common, containing about
ten acres, surrounded by a handsome public
walk, which is planted with rows of trees. On
a peninsula below the town there are two forts,
Fort Pickering and Fort Lee, and on Baker's
Island there is a light house.
S;ilem is, next to Plymouth, the oldest town
in the state, and was settled in 1626. The inha-
t;mts are chiefly employed in trade and naviga-
tion. The shipping belonging to this port in
1816 amounted to 34,454 tons. The East India
trade has, for several years, been carried on here
with great spirit and advantage, and it is to this
branch of commerce that the town is indebted
for a great part of its wealth. The number of
vessels employed at present in this trade amounts
to fifty-three, carrying 14,272 tons. There are
now living about 1<50 persons, who, as masters
or supercargoes of vessels, have sailed from this
town round the Cape of Good Hope, or Cape
Horn. A society composed of such persons,
styled the East India Marine Society, was incor-
porated in 1801 ; the object of which is to afford
relief to indigent members or their families, to
promote the knowledge of navigation and trade
to the East Indies, and to increase the museum.
The museum belongs to this society, and is a
very extensive and interesting cabinet of curi-
osities collected from all parts of the world, and
is visited free of expense.
SALEM, NEW, a post town of Franklin county,
Massachusetts ; eighteen miles E. S. E. of Green-
field, eighty west of Boston, west 452. Popu-
lation 2167. Here is a respectable academy.
SALEM, a post town of Washington county,
New York, eighteen miles south-east of Sandy
Hill. Population 2833. The courts for the
county are held alternately here and at Sandy
Hill. Here is a handsome town, on an exten-
sive plain, containing a court house, a jail, an
academy, and two churches. Two weekly news-
papers are published.
SALENGORE, a Malay principality, extend-
ing a considerable space along the western coast
of the Malay peninsula. It is governed by a
Mahometan prince, who bears the title of rajah.
The rajah monopolises the greater part of the
trade, and is thus induced to afford protection
to vessels coming up the river of Salengore.
There are several other rivers traversing the ter-
ritory, and falling into the straits of Malacca ;
particularly one called Burnam, from which a
great number of long rattans are brought. The
commodities fitted for exportation here are tin,
rattans, gold dust, elephants' teeth, dragon's
blood, camphire, with some pepper, and other
spices. These are given in exchange for opium,
piece goods, gunpowder, cutlery, steel, copper,
iron, and some woollens. The Chinese and the
Birgis of Celebes carry on a good deal of trade
at this port. Long. 101° 18' E. ; lat. 3° 20' N.
SALEP, in the materia medica, the dried root
of a species of orchis. See ORCHIS. Several
methods of preparing salep have been practised.
Geoffrey has given a very judicious process for
this purpose in the Histoire de L'academie Royale
des Sciences, 1740 ; and Retmus in the Swedish
Transactions, 1764, has improved Geoffrey's me-
thod. Mr. Moult of Rochdale also found a
method of curing the orchis root; by which
salep is prepared, at least equal, if not superior,
to any brought from the Levant. The new root
is to be washed in water ; and the fine brown
skin which covers it is to be separated by a small
brush, or by dipping the root in hot water, an3
rubbing it with a coarse linen cloth. When a
sufficient number of roots have been thus cleaned,
they are spread on a tin plate, and placed n an
oven heated to the usual degree, where they are
to remain six or ten minutes, in \.hich time they
will have lost their milky whiteness, and ac-
quired a transparency like horn, without any
diminution of bulk. They are then to be re-
SAL
241
moved to dry and harden in the air, which will
require several days to effect ; or, by using a very
pentle heat, they may be finished in a few hours.
Salep, thus prepared, may be afforded in places
where labor bears a high value, at about 8d. or
lOd. per pound. And it might be sold still
cheaper, if the orchis were to be cured, without
separating from it the brown skin which covers
it ; a troublesome part of the process, and which
does not contribute to render the root either more
palatable or salutary. The foreign salep is sold
at 5x. or 6s. per pound. As a wholesome nourish-
ment, says Dr. Percival in his Essays, Medical
and Experimental, rice is much inferior to salep.
Salep has the singular property of concealing the
taste of salt water; a circumstance of the highest
importance at sea, when there is a scarcity of
fresh water. The restorative, mucilaginous, and
demulcent qualities of the orchis root, render it
of considerable use in various diseases. In the
sea-scurvy it lessens the acrimony of the fluids,
and at the same time is easily assimilated into a
mild and nutritious chyle. The ancient chemists
entertained a very high opinion of the orchis
root, as appears from the secreta secretorum of
Raymond Lully, 1565.
SALERNO, a city of Italy, in the kingdom of
Naples, the capital of the province of Principato
Citra, and having a population of 10,000. Though
delightfully situated, the town itself is not agree-
able : the streets are paved with lava, narrow
and irregular, and have a gloomy appearance,
from the height of the houses. Salerno is an
ancient city, and has in front of the cathedral
twenty-eight ancient granite columns. The har-
bour is good. Twenty-eight miles E. S. E. of
Naples.
SALES (St. Francis de), a Romish saint, born
at Sales castle in 1567. In 1602 he was made
bishop of Geneva, in which station his conduct
was pious and exemplary ; he founded a society
of religious, called the Order of the Visitation ;
which was sanctioned by Paul V. in 1618. He
died in 1622, and was canonized by Alexander
VI. He wrote, 1. An Introduction to a Devout
Life ; 2. A Treatise on the Love of God ; and
Letters.
SALET, in war, a^ light covering or armour
for the head, anciently worn by the light horse,
only different from the casque in that it had no
crest, and was little more than a bare cap.
SALIANT, in fortification, denotes projecting.
There are two kinds of angles, the one saliant,
which have their point outwards ; the other re-en-
tering, which have their points inwards.
SALIC, or SALIQUF., law (lex salica), an an-
cient and fundamental law of the kingdom of
France, usually supposed to have been made by
Pharamond, or by Clovis ; in virtue whereof
males only are to inherit. Some, as Postellus, sup-
pose it to have been called Salic, q. d. Gallic,
because peculiar to the Gauls. For Montauus
insists, it was because Pharamond was at first
called Salicus. Others believe it to have been
so named, because used only in the Salic lands.
These were nqble fiefs which their first kings
used to bestow on the sallians, that is, the great
lord of their salle or court, without any other te-
nure than military service ; and, for this reason,
VOL. XIX.
such fiefs were not to descend to women, as being
by nature unfit for such a tenure. Shakspeure
represents it as derived from the name of the
river Sala, in Germany, and says —
' That the land of Salique lies in Germany,
Between the floods of Sala and of Elbe,
Where Charles the Great, having subdued it.e
Saxons,
There left behind and settled certain French
U'ho, holding in disdain the German women
For some dishonest manners of their life,
Established there this law. Henri/ V., act 1.
Montesquieu derives the origin of this word
from theSalians, a tribe of Franks who settled in
Gaul in the reign of Julian, who is said to have
given them lands on condition of their personal
service in war. Before the election of the Me-
rovingian kings, this powerful tribe of the
Franks appointed four venerable chieftains to
compose their laws; and their labors were ex-
amined and approved in three successive assem-
blies of the people. After the baptism of Clovis,
he reformed several articles incompatible with
Christianity. The Salic law was again amended
by his sons ; and, under the reign Dagobert, the
code was revised and promulgated 100 years
after the establishment of the French monarchy.
If it be asked, how it came to pass that the Salic
laws gained general authority in the country of
the Franks, and the Roman law gradually de-
clined ; while in the jurisdiction of the Visigoths
the Roman law spread itself, and obtained at last
a general sway ? Montesquieu replies that the
Roman law was disused among the Franks, on
account of the great advantages accruing from
being a Frank to a person living under the Sa-
lic law. The clergy alone retained the old law,
because a change could be of no advantage to
them. The Roman law inflicted no hardships
upon them, as it was the work of Christian em-
perors. ' This law,' says Millot, ' fixed the
punishment of crimes and various points of po-
lice. There is no ground for believing, that it
expressly settled the right of succession to the
crown. It only says that, with relation to the
salic land, women have no share of heritage,
without restricting it to the royal family ; for all
those were called salic lands which were held by
right of conquest; and it is easy to conceive,
that a nation of soldiers, whose general \va?
their king, would not submit to be governed by
a woman. A long custom, supported by the
principles of the nation, became in time the es-
tablished law of the kingdom.'
SALICORNIA, jointed glass-wort, or salt-
wort, a genus of the monogynia order, and
monandria class of plants : natural order twelfth,
holoracere : CAL. ventricose, or a little swelling
out and entire : there are no petals, and but one
SEED. There are nine species, of which the most
remarkable are —
1. S. fruticosa, with obtuse points, grows
plentifully in the salt-marshes which are over-
flowed by the tides in many parts of England. It
is an annual plant, with thick, succulent, jointed
stalks, which trail upon the ground. The flowers
are produced at the ends of the joints toward
the extremity of the branches, which are small,
and scarcely discernible by the naked eye.
II
SAL
242
SAL
2. S. perennis, with a shrubby branching stalk,
grows naturally in Sheppey Island. This has a
shrubby branching stalk about six inches long;
the points of the articulations are acute ; the
stalks branch from the bottom, and form a kind
of pyramid. They are perennial, and produce
their flowers in the same manner as the former.
The inhabitants near the sea coasts, where these
plants grow, cut them up towards the latter end
of summer, when they are fully grown ; and, af-
ter having dried them in the sun, they burn them
for their ashes, which are used in making of
glass and soap. These herbs are by the country
people called kelp, and promiscuously gathered
for use. Barilla is likewise made from them.
They are also used for dyeing leather red, instead
of the shenan.
SA'LIENT, adj. Latin, saliens. Leaping ;
bounding ; moving by leaps.
The legs of both sides moving together as frogs,
and salient animals, is properly called leaping.
Browne'i Vulgar Errourt.
A talient point, so first is called the heart,
By turns dilated, and by turns comprest,
Expels and entertains the purple guest; Blackmore.
W ho best can send on high
The talient spout, far streaming to the sky. • Pope.
SALII, in Roman antiquity, priests of Mars,
of whom Numa instituted twelve, who wore
painted particolored garments, and high bonnets ;
with a steel cuirass on the breast. They were
called salii, from saltare to dance; because, after
assisting at sacrifices, they went dancing about
the streets, with bucklers in their left hand, and
a rod in their right, striking with their rods on
one another's bucklers, and singing hymns in
honor of the gods. Their feasts were uncom-
monly sumptuous, whence dapes saliares is pro-
verbially applied to repasts splendid and costly.
Their chief, called praesul and magister saliorum,
was one of their members, and led the band,
the rest imitating all his steps and motions. The
whole company was called collegium saliorum.
Sext. Pompeius makes mention of salian maids,
virgines saliares, hired for the purpose, and
joined with the salii, wearing a kind of military
garb, called paludamentum, with high round
bonnets like the salii, and like them performing
sacrifice with the pontifices.
SALIMBENI (V7enura), an eminent historical
painter, born at Sienna, in Tuscany, in 1557.
There was a fine picture by him of the descent
of the Spirit on the apostles at Pentecost, in the
possession of the earl of Pembroke. He died in
1613.
SA'LINE, adj. .) Lat. salinus. Consisting
SALI'NOUS, adj. \ of, or forming, salt.
We do not easily ascribe their induration to cold ;
but rather unto talinoia spirits and concretive juices.
Browne.
This *aline sap of the vessels, by being refused re-
ception of the parts, declares itself in a more hostile
manner, by drying the radical moisture.
Harvey on Consumptions.
If a very small quantity of any salt or vitriol be
dissolved in a great quantity of water, the particles of
the salt or vitriol will not sink to the bottom, though
they be heavier in specie th.iu the water ; but will
evenly diffuse themselves into all the water, so as to
it as mline at the top as at the bottom.
As the substance of coagulation is not merely sa-
line, nothing dissolves them but what penetrates and
relaxes at the same time. Arbuthnot on Aliments.
SALISBURY, the capital or county town of
Wiltshire, is situated in a vale, at the confluence
of the Wiley and Nadder, with the Aron. It
owed its origin to the cathedral, which was be-
gun in 1220, by bishop Poor, and finished in
1256, when the see was held by William of York.
This building is in the early pointed style of ar-
chitecture, and may be justly regarded as one of
the most elegant and regular ecclesiastical struc-
tures in the kingdom. It is in the form of a
double cross, and consists of a nave and choir,
with two side aisles, and two transepts, each with
its aisle. Connected with it is a handsome
quadrangular cloister, and an octagon chapter-
house. The spire, which is evidently a later
erection, and was probably begun at tho latter
end of Edward II., or the beginning of Edward
III.'s reign, rises on four pillars, at the intersec-
tion of the nave and principal transept, to the
stupendous height of 400 feet. Although it de-
clines above two feet from the perpendicular, it
has yet withstood the storms and tempests of
ages, and the effects of time and accident; and
seems likely to remain for centuries a monu-
ment of singular architectural boldness, skill,
and perseverance. The chapter-house is also
a beautiful specimen of architecture, the groined
roof of fifty feet in diameter beiug poised on a
single slender pillar in the centre.
The cathedral establishment consists of a dean,
forty-one prebendaries, six of whom are residen-
tiary, and called canons, a sub-dean, sub-chanter,
four vicars choral, seven lay-vicars, one of whom
is organist, and eight choristers. The chapter
is composed of the dean and residentiary canons ;
and the close in which the cathedral is situated
is environed with a wall, and forms a distinct
jurisdiction, under the dean, in virtue of letters
patent granted by Edward III. The bishop,
who is a member of the cathedral establishment,
as prebendary of Pottern, has under him the
archdeacons of Sarum, Wilts, and Berks, for the
superintendance of his diocese. In the close is
a college, for the maintenance of a certain num-
ber of clergymen's widovvs, built and endowed
by bishop Seth Ward.
The city, which is erected on ground originally
belonging to the see, acknowledges the bishop as
lord of the manor. It is incorporate, and govern-
ed by a mayor, high steward, recorder, twelve
justices, fourteen aldermen, and thirty common-
council men. The justices are chosen from the
aldermen, and the aldermen from those who
have borne the office of mayor.
It contains the three parish churches of St.
Thomas, St. Edmund, and St. Martin ; and in
eludes the suburbs of Fisherton and Eastllarn-
ham.
An attempt was made; under bishop Ward, in
the reign of Charles II., to render the Avon na-
vigable to Christchurch ; and, about thirty years
ago, a canal was begun to form a water com-
munication with the port of Southampton! : but
both these projects proved abortive. With re-
spect to land communications, the city was
essentially benefited by the turning of the threat
SAL
western road through if, which was effected soon
after the commencement of the cathedral. To
this advantage, and to its central situation in re-
gard to the great towns, in the west and south
of England, Salisbury owes much of its present
importance ; for its manufactures of cloth, flan-
nel, and lace, are now in a manner extinct, and
its cutlery much reduced, in consequence of the
competition of Birmingham, Sheffield, &c. Be-
sides the parish churches, the principal buildings
are the council-house, erected at the expense of
the late earl of Radnor ; the general infirmary,
supported by voluntary contribution ; and the
county prison. These two last are situated in
Fisherton. There are many alms-houses and
charitable establishments, the chief of which is
the hospital of St. Nicholas, founded, or at least
endowed, by bishop Bingham. Salisbury is
twenty-one miles north-east from Southampton,
eighty-two W. S.W. from London, ninety-one
E. N. E. from Exeter, and thirty-seven south-
west from Bath. Lat. 51° 3' N., long. 1° 42' E.
It sends two representatives to parliament, the
right of election being rested in the corporation.
Old Sarum, the parent of the present city,
which is sometimes called New Sarum, is situated
about a mile and a half to the north. It consists
of a circular rampart and ditch, formed by scacp-
ing down a hill, and a mound in the centre,
which was probably crowned by the keep Or
citadel. It was originally a fortress of the Bri-
tons ; was afterwards occupied by the Romans,
of whose military ways, four diverged from this
spot ; next by the Saxons ; and finally rendered
by the Norman sovereigns a post of considerable
importance. Of its buildings nothing remains but
a few trifling fragments, though it long enjoyed the
privilege of sending two members to parliament,
•who were chosen by the occupiers of certain lands
in the vicinity. It was disfranchised in 1832.
SALISBURY, a post town of Hillsborough coun-
ty, New Hampshire, on the west side of the
Merrimack; fourteen miles N. N. W. of Con-
cord, thirty-eight south-east of Dartmouth Col-
lege, fifty-nine W. N. W. of Portsmouth. The
fourth New Hampshire turnpike passes through
this town, and upon this road, in the south part
of the town, there is a pleasant village, contain-
ing a Congregational "meeting house, and an
academy ; and about two miles above, on the
turnpike, there is a Baptist meeting-house. On
the Merrimack near the mouth of the Winnipi-
seogee, there is another flourishing village. Salis-
bury is a very good agricultural town. — Also a
post town of Essex county, Massachusetts, on
the north bank of the Merrimack ; four miles
north-west of Newburyport, thirty-six N. N. E.
of Boston. It contains two parishes, and has a
pleasant and considerable village, on the north
bank of the Merrimack, below the junction of
the Powow River. Considerable business is done
at this village at ship building, and here is some
trade in the fisheries. — Also a post town of Litch-
field county, Connecticut, in the north-west cor-
ner of the state ; twenty-four miles north-west of
Litchfield. It is a considerable town, and the
neighbourhood contains large quantities of iron
ore.
243 SAL
SALI'VA, n. s.~\ Lat. saliva. Every thing
SAI/IVAL, adj. (that is spit up ; more strictly
SAL'IVOUS, t that juice which is separated
SALIVATE, v. a. J by the glands called salival :
relating to the saliva : to salivate is to cleanse
or purge by means of the salival glands.
The woodpecker, and other birds that prey upon
flies, which they catch with their tongue, in the room
of the said glands have a couple of bags filled with a
viscous humour, which, by small canals, like the sa-
lival, being brought into their mouths, they dip their
tongues herein, and so with the help of this natural
bird-lime attack the prey. Grew.
Holding of ill tasted things in the mouth will
make a small salivation. Id. Cosmologia.
The necessity of spittle to dissolve the aliment ap-
pears from the contrivance of nature in making the
salivary ducts of animals which ruminate, extremely
open : such animals as swallow their aliment without
chewing, want salivary glands. Arbuthnot.
Not "meeting with disturbance from the saliva, I
the sooner extirpated them. Wiseman't Surgery.
She was prepossessed with the scandal of salivating,
and went out of town. Id.
There happeneth an elongation of the uvula, through
the abundance of salivout humour flowing upon it.
Wiseman.
SALIVA is that fluid by which the mouth and
tongue are continually moistened in their natural
state ; and which is supplied by glands which
form it, called salivary glands. This humor is
thin and pellucid, incapable of being concreted
by the fire, almost without taste and smell. Sa-
liva, beside water, which constitutes at least
four-fifths of its bulk, contains the following
ingredients:—!. Mucilage. 2. Albumen. 3.
Muriate of soda. 4. Phosphate of soda. 5.
Phosphate of lime. 6. Phosphate of ammonia.
Like all the other animal fluids, it is however
liable to many changes from disease, &c.
Brugnatelli found the saliva of a patient laboring
under an obstinate venereal disease impregnated
with oxalic acid. The concretions which some-
times form in the salivary ducts, &c., and the
tartar or bony crust which so often attaches itself
to the teeth, are composed of phosphate of lime.
It has a great affinity for oxygen, absorbs it rea-
dily from the air, and gives it out again to other
bodies. Hence the reason why gold or silver,
triturated with saliva in a mortar, is oxidated, as
Du Tennetar has observed. Hence also the rea-
son that saliva is a useful application to sores of
the skin. Dogs and other animals have con-
stantly recourse to this remedy, and with much
advantage.
SALIVATION, in medicine, is effected chiefly
by mercury. The use of salivation is in diseases
belonging to the glands and membrana adiposa,
and principally in the cure of the venereal dis-
ease ; though it is sometimes also used in epi-
demic and cutaneous diseases, &cc.
SALIX, the willow, in botany, a genus of the
diandria order, and dicecia class of plants : na-
tural order fiftieth, amentaceae: amentum of the
male scaly : COR. none, but a nectariferous glan-
dule at the base of the flower : female amentum
scaly : COR. none ; style bifid : CAPS, unilocular
and bivalved : SEEDS pappous. The willow has
been frequently the theme of poetical description,
SAL
'244
SAL
tooth in ancient and modern times. There are se-
venty species ; of which the most remarkable are,
' i. S. alba, white or silver-leaved willow,
growing to a great height and considerable bulk,
having smooth pale green shoots ; long, spear-
shaped, acuminated, sawed, silvery-white leaves,
downy on both sides, with glands below the ser-
ratures. This is the common white willow,
which grows abundantly about towns and vil-
lages, and by the sides of rivers and brooks, &c.
2. S. Babylonica, Babylonian pendulous salix,
commonly called weeping willow, grows to a
largish size, having numerous long, slender, pen-
dulous branches, hanging down loosely all round,
and long, narrow, spear-shaped, serrated, smooth
leaves. This curious willow is a native of the
east, and is retained in our hardy plantations for
ornament, and exhibits a most agreeable variety ;
particularly when disposed singly by the verge
of any piece of water, or in spacious openings of
grass ground.
3. S. caprea, the common sallow tree, grows
to but a moderate height, having smooth, dark-
green, brittle branches ; oval, waved, rough
leaves, indented at top, and woolly underneath.
It grows abundantly in this country, but more
frequently in dry than moist situations ; it is of
a brittle nature, and therefore unfit for the bas-
ket-makers; but will serve for poles, stakes,
and to lop for fire-wood ; and its timber is good
for many purposes.
4. S. fissa, basket osier. Leaves alternate,
pedicelled, minutely toothed. A shrub four or
five feet high, with erect) flexible, and very tough
branches, of a yellowish ash color, sometimes
purplish. A native of various parts of Europe,
on the sandy banks of rivers, and in England
cultivated in fens as preferable to all other wil-
lows or osiers for basket-work.
5. S. fragilis, fragile or crack willow, rises to
a middling stature, with brownish, very br.ttle
branches; long, oval, lanceolate, smooth leaves,
of a shining green on both sides, having dentat-
ed glandular foot-stalks. This kind in particu-
lar being exceedingly fragile, so that it easily
cracks and breaks, is unfit for culture in osier-
grounds.
6. S. pentandria, broad-leaved, sweet-scented
willow, grows to some considerable stature, hav-
ing brownish-green branches ; oblong, broad,
scattered, smooth, sweet-scented leaves, shining-
above ; and pentandrous flowers.
7. S. purpurea, purple or red willow, grows
to a large height, having long, reddish, very
pliable shoots, and long, spear-shaped, serrated,
smooth leaves, the lower one being opposite.
8. S. viminalis, or osier willow, grows but to
a moderate height, having slender rod-like
branches ; very long, pliant, greenish shoots :
and very long, narrow, spear-shaped, acute, al-
most entire leaves, hoary, and silky underneath.
9. S. vitellina, yellow or golden willow, grows
but to a moderate height ; having yellow, very
pliant shoots; oval, acute, serrated, very smooth
leaves, with the serratures cartilaginous, and with
callous punctures on the foot-stalks. All the
species are of the tree kind, very hardy, remark-
abK i-, and several of them attaining
•* consul*. ruble stature when permitted to run up
to standards. They are generally the most
abundant and of most prosperous growth in
watery situations : they however will grow freely
almost anywhere, in any common soil and expo-
sure : but grow considerably faster and stronger
in low moist land, particularly in marshy situa-
tions, by the verge of rivers, brooks, and other
waters ; which places, often lying waste, may be
employed to good advantage in plantations of
willows for different purposes.
SALLEE, a large walled sea-port on the
coast of Morocco, situated in the province of
Benihassen, at the mouth of a river of the same
name. It was formerly the great hold of Moor-
ish piracy, and immense depredations were com-
mitted from it upon European commerce.
SALLENGUE (Albert Henry de), F. R. S.,
an ingenious writer, born at the Hague in 1694.
His father was receiver general of Walloon
Flanders, and of an ancient family, lie sent
young Albert to Leyden, who, having finished
his studies, commenced advocate in Holland.
After the peace of Utrecht, in 1713, he travelled
into France. In 1716 he was made counsellor
to the princess of Nassau; in 1717 commissary
of finances to the States. In 1719 he visited
England, and was elected F. R. S. He wrote
commentaries on Ovid's epistles and other clas-
sics ; and was writing a History of the United
Provinces, when he was cut-off by the small pox
in 1723.
SALLO (Denis de), a French writer, born in
Paris in 1626. He studied the law, and was
admitted a counsellor in the parliament of Paris
in 1652. It was in 1664 he laid the plan of the
Journal des Scavans; and the year following
began to publish it, under the name of Sieur de
Heronville, which was that of his valet de
Chambre. But he criticised so severely, and
authors retorted so powerfully, that M.de Sallo,
after he had published his third Journal, gave
up the undertaking, delivering it over to the
abbe Gallois ; who, without presuming to criti-
cise, contented himself merely with giving the
titles of new books, and making extracts. .M.
de Sallo died in 1669.
SAL'LOW, n. s. Lat. salts. A tree of the
genus of willow.
Sallows and reeds on banks of rivers born,
Remain to cut to stay thy vines. Drytltn.
SAL'LOW, adj. > Belg. salow ; Teut.
SAL'LOWKESS, n. s. S salo, black. Sickly ; yel-
low : the noun substantive corresponding.
\Yhat a deal of brine
Hath washt thy sallow cheeks for Rosaline
The see .e of beauty and delight is changed :
No roses bloom upon my fading cheefc,
Nor laughing graces wanton in my eyes ;
But haggard Grief, lean-looking sallow Care,
And pining Discontent, a rueful train,
Dwell on my brow, all hideous and forlorn. Rowe.
A fish diet would give such a nallou-iuns to the ce-
lebrated beauties of this island, as \voulJ scarce
make them distinguishable from those of Trance.
Adii a. n.
SALLUSTIUS (Caius Crispus), a celebrated
Roman historian, born at Amitornum, in Iialy,
A. U. C. 669. His Roman History, in MX
S A L M O.
245
books, from the death of Syila to the conspiracy
of Catiline, the great work from which he
chiefly derived his glory among the ancients, is
unfortunately lost, excepting a few fragments ;
but ' the two detatched pieces of his history
which happily remain entire are sufficient to
justify the great encomiums he has received as a
writer. No man has inveighed more sharply
against the vices of his age than this historian ;
yet no man had less pretensions to virtue. His
youth was spent in a most lewd and profligate
manner, and his patrimony rapidly squandered.
Marcus Varro, a writer of undoubted credit,
relates, in a fragment preserved by Aulus Gel-
lius, that Sallustius was actually caught in bed
with Fausta the daughter of Sylla, by Milo her
husband ; who scourged him very severely, and
did not suffer him to depart till he had redeemed
his liberty with a considerable sum. ' In A. U. C.
694 he was made questor, and in 702 tribune
of the people; in neither of which places did
he acquit himself with honor. By his questor-
ship he obtained an admission into the senate ;
but was expelled by the censors in 704 on ac-
count of his debauched way of life. In 705
Caesar restored him to the dignity of a senator,
and made him questor a second time. In the
administration of this office he behaved very
scandalously. In 707, when the African war
was at an end, he was made praetor for his ser-
vices to Caesar, and sent to Numidia. Here he
outrageously plundered the province ; and re-
turned with such immense riches to Rome, that
he purchased a magnificent building upon mount
Quirinal, with those gardens which still retain
the name of Sallustian gardens, besides his
country house at Tivoli. Eusebius tells us that
he married Terentia, the divorced wife of Cicero ;
and that he died at the age of fifty, A. U. C.
710, four years before the battle of Actium.
Besides his histories of the Catilinarian and
Jugurthine wars, we have some orations, printed
with his fragments.
SAL'LY, n. s. & v. a. ) Fr. salfie. Erup-
SAL'LYPORT. $ tion ; issue from a
place besieged ; quick egress ; escape : to make
sucli egress : a sally-port is a gate at which sal-
lies are made.
Now mote I weet,
Sir Guyon, why with so fierce sallience
And fell intent, yp did at erst me meet.
Faerie Queene.
The Turks, sallying forth, received thereby great
hurt. Knolles.
The episodical part, made up of the extravagant
sallies of the prince of Wales and Fal staffs humour,
is of his own invention. Shakspeare. Illustrated.
At his return all was clear, and this excursion was
esteemed but a sally of youth. Wotton.
The deputy sat down before the town for the space
of three winter months ; during which time sullies
were made by the Spaniards, but they were beaten
in with loss. Bacon.
My slippery soul had quit the fort,
But that she stopped the sallyport. Cleaveland.
Love to our' citadel resorts
Through those deceitful sallyports ;
Our sentinels betray our forts. Denham,
Tis but a sully of youth. Id. &>/%.
These passages were intended for sullies of wit ;
but u hence comes all thi^ rage of nil ! St'dimgfleet.
The noise of some tumultuous fight ;
They break th» truce aud sally out by night.
Drijdeti.
Every one shall know a country better that makes
often sallies into it, and traverses it up and down,
than he that, like a mill-horse, goes still round in the
same track. Locke.
We have written some things which we may wish
never to have thought on : some sallies of levity
ought to be imputed to youth. SwiJ't.
SALLY-PORTS, in fortification, or posterns as
they are sometimes called, are those under-
ground passages which lead from the inner
works to the outward ones ; such as from the
higher flank to the lower, or to the tenailles, or
the communication from the middle of the cur-
tain to the ravelin. When they are made for
men to go through only, they are made with
steps at the entrance and going out. They are
about six feet wide, and eight feet and a half
high. There is also a gutter or shore made
under the sally ports, which are in the middle of
the curtains, for the water which runs down the
streets to pass into the ditch ; but this can only
be done when they are wet ditches. When
sally-ports serve to carry guns through for the
out works, instead of making them with steps,
they must have a gradual slope, and be eight
feet wide. See FORTIFICATION.
SALMANASAR, or SALMAXESER, the son
of Tiglath-pileser, king of Assyria, succeeded
his father, about A. M. 3276. He took Sama-
ria, put an end to the kingdom of Israel, and
carried the Israelites into captivity, A. M. 3283.
He was afterwards defeated by the Tyrians ; and
died about A. A. C. 714. He was succeeded by
his son Sennacherib.
SALMASIUS (Claudius), a French writer of
great abilities and immense erudition, descended
from an ancient and noble family, and born at
or near Semur in 1596. His mother, who was
a Protestant, educated him in her own religious
opinions, and he at length converted his father,
lie settled at Leyden ; and in 1659 paid a visit
to Christina, queen of Sweden, who showed
him extraordinary marks of regard. Upon the
death of king Charles I. he was prevailed on by
the royal family, then in exile, to write a defence
of that king, which was answered by the cele-
brated Milton in 1651, in a work entitled De-
fensio pro Populi Anglicano contra Claudii
Salmasii Defensionem Regiam. This book was
read over all Europe ; and conveyed such a
proof of the writer's abilities that he was re-
spected even by those who hated his political
principles. Salmasius died in 1653. His
works are numerous, and of various kinds ; but
the greatest monuments of his learning are his
Notae in Historise Augustae Scriptores,. and his
Exercitationes Plinianse in Solinum.
SALMASIUS (Claudius), son of the preceding,
published the answer to Milton, which his father
had begun, but did not live to finish; and dedi
cated it to king Charles II. in 1660.
SALMO, the salmon, in ichthyology, a genus
of the order of abdominales. The head is
smooth, and furnished with teeth and a tongue ;
the rays of the gills are from four to ten ; the
back-fin is fat behind, and the ventral fins havo
246
S A L M O.
many rays. There are many species, of which
the most remarkable are the following : —
1. S. albus, the white, migrates out of the
sea into the river Esk in Cumberland, from
July to September. When dressed the flesh of
these fish is red and most delicious eating.
They have, on their first appearance from the
salt water, the lernaea salmonea, or salmon louse,
adhering to them. They never exceed a foot in
length. The upper jaw is a little longer than the
lower ; in the first are two rows of teeth, in the
last one ; on the tongue are six teeth. The
back is straight, the whole body of an elegant
form, the lateral line is straight ; color, between
that and the top of the back, dusky and silvery
intermixed ; beneath the line white ; first dorsal
fin spotted with black; tail black, and much
forked.
2. S. alpinus, the red charr, is an inhabitant
of the lakes of the north, and of those of the
mountainous parts of Europe. It chooses clear
and pure waters, and is very rarely known to
wander into running streams. It is found in
vast abundance in the cold lakes on the summits
of the Lapland mountains, and is almost the
only fish that is met with in any plenty in those
regions. The larvae of a species of gnat afford
food to the fish, who in their turn are a support
to the migratory Laplanders, in their summer
voyages to the distant lalces. There are but few
lakes in our island that produce this fish ; and
even those not in any abundance. It is found
in Ullswater and Windermere in Westmoreland ;
in Llyn Quellyn, near the foot of Snowdon ;
and, before the discovery of the copper mines,
in those of Llynberris ; but the mineral streams
have entirely destroyed the fish in the last lakes.
In Scotland it is found in Loch Inch and other
neighbouring lakes, and is said to go into the
Spey to spawn. They are supposed to be in the
highest perfection about May, and continue so
all the summer ; yet are rarely caught after
April. When they are spawning in the river
they will take a bait, but at no other time ; being
commonly taken, as well as the other species, in
what they call breast-nets, which are in length
about twenty-four fathoms, and about five where
broadest. They are taken in greatest plenty
from the end of September to the end of Novem-
ber. This species is much esteemed for the
table, and is very delicate when potted.
3. S. eperlanus, the smelt, inhabits the seas of
the northern parts of Europe, and is found as
far south as the Seine. They are also taken in
i lie Straits of Magellan, and of a most surprising
size, some measuring twenty inches in length
and eight in circumference. They inhabit the
seas that wash these islands the whole year,
except when they ascend the rivers. In certain
rivers they appear a long time before they spawn,
I "'ing taken in great abundance in November,
December, and January, in the Thames and
Dee, but in others not till February ; and in
March and April they spawn ; after which they
all return to the salt water, and are not seen in
the rivers till the next season. They never come
into tin: Mersey .is lonur as there is any snow
water in the river. These fish vary greatly in
size; but the largest we ever heard of was thir-
teen inches long, and weighed half a pound.
They have a very particular scent, whence is
derived one of their English names, smelt, i. e.
smell it. That of sparling, which is used in
Wales and the north of England, is taken from
the French sperlan. The fishing for smelts in
the Thames is prohibited under heavy penalties,
and the exertions of the magistrates hare nearly
put an end to it. The fish can hardly be pur-
chased in London at any price however extra-
vagant. It is a fish of a very beautiful form and
color ; the head is transparent, and the skin in
general so thin that with a good microscope the
blood may be observed to circulate. The irides
are silvery; the pupil of a full black ; the under
jaw is the longest ; in the front of the upper
jaw are four large teeth ; those in the sides of
both are small ; in the roof of the mouth are two
rows of teeth ; on the tongue two others of large
teeth. The scales are small, and readily drop
off; the tail consists of nineteen rays, and is
forked. The color of the back is whitish, with a
cast of green, beneath which it is varied with
blue, and then succeeds a beautiful gloss of a
silvery hue.
4. S. fario, the trout: the colors of which
vary greatly in different waters, and in different
seasons. Trouts differ also in size. The stomachs
of the common trouts are uncommonly thick
and muscular. They feed on the shell-fish of
lakes and rivers, as well as on small fish. They
likewise take into their stomachs gravel or small
stones, to assist in comminuting the testaceous
parts of their food. The trouts of certain lakes
in Ireland, such as those of the province of
Gal way and some others, are remarkable for the
great thickness of their stomachs, which, from
some slight resemblance to the organs of diges-
tion in birds, have been called gizzards; the Irish
name the species that has them gillaroo trouts.
These stomachs are sometimes served up to
table alone, under the appellation of gillaroo.
Trouts are most voracious fish, and afford excel-
lent diversion to the angler. Trouts shift their
quarters to spawn; and like salmon make up
towards the heads of rivers to deposit their roes.
The under jaw of the trout is subject, at certain
times, to the same curvature as that of the
salmon. Trouts are caught in very great plenty
at all seasons of the year ; one weighing a pound
and a half is a usual size, though some are caught
of four pound weight. Five or six ounces is ;i
common weight ; the largest are commonly the
best for the table, when a deep salmon color.
In winter great quantities are potted along with
the charre, and sent to London, &c. Geld fish
(those without spawn) are the firmest and best.
5. S. lavaretus, the gwiniad, is an inhabitant
of several of the lakes of the Alpine parts of
Europe. It is found in those of Switzerland,
Savoy, and Italy ; of Norway, Sweden, Lapland,
and Scotland ; in those of Ireland and of Cum-
berland ; and in Wales, in that of Llyntegicl,
near Bala, in Merionethshire. It is the same
with the ferra of the lake of Geneva; the Schelly
of Hulsewater; the pollen of Loch Neah ; and
the vangis and juvengis of Loch Mbaon. It is
said to have been first introduced into Scotland
by queen Mary ; and as in her time the Scottish
S A L M O.
247
court was much Frenchified, the name was per-
haps derived from the French vendois, a dace;
to which a slight observer might be tempted to
compare it by the whiteness of its scales. The
British name gwiniad or whiting was bestowed
upon it for the same reason. It is a gregarious
fish, and approaches the shores in vast shoals in
spring and in summer ; which proves in many
places a relief to the poor of inland countries,
as the annual return of the herring is to those
who inhabit the coasts. Between 7000 and 8000
have been taken at one draught. The whiting is
a fish of an insipid taste, and must be eaten
soon, for it will not keep long ; those that choose
to preserve them do it with salt. They die very
soon after they are taken. Their spawning sea-
son in Llyntegid is in December. The largest
whiting we ever heard of weighed between three
and four pounds ; the head is small, smooth,
and of a dusky hue ; the eyes very large ; the
pupil of a deep blue; the nose blunt at the end;
the jaws of equal length; the mouth small and
toothless ; the branchiostegous rays nine ; the
covers of the gills silvery, powdered with black.
The back is a little arched, and slightly cari-
nated ; the color, a£ far as the lateral line, is
glossed with deep blue and purple ; but towards
the lines assumes a silvery cast, tinged with
gold ; beneath which those colors entirely pre-
vail. The tail is very much forked ; the scales
are large, and adhere close to the body.
6. S. salar, the common salmon, is a northern
fish, being unknown in the Mediterranean Sea
and other warm climates ; it is found in France
in some of the rivers that fall into the ocean, and
north as far as Greenland ; they are also very
common in the northern parts of North America.
They are in several countries a considerable
article of commerce; they are stationary fisheries
in Iceland, Norway, and the Baltic ; and in
Great Britain, on the Tweed, at Berwick, and in
various rivers of Scotland. See our article
FISHERIES. In Cumberland they go up the
river Derwent in September, through the lake of
Bassenthwaite, up the river which runs through
Keswick into the Vale of St. John, where they
deposit their spawn in the small streams and
feeders of the lake. The young salmon are called
salmon smelts, and go down to the sea with the
first floods in May. The salmon was known to
the Romans, but not to the Greeks. Pliny speaks
of it as a fish found in the rivers of Aquitaine :
Ausonius enumerates it among those of the Mo-
selle. The salmon is a fish that lives both in the
salt and fresh waters ; quitting the sea at certain
seasons for the sake of depositing its spawn, in
security, in the gravelly beds of rivers remote
from their mouths. There is scarcely any diffi-
culties but what they will overcome to arrive at
places fit for their purpose; they will ascend
rivers hundreds of miles, force themselves against
the most rapid streams, and spring with amazing
agility over cataracts of several feet in height.
Salmon are frequently taken in the Rhine as high
up as Basil ; they gain the sources of the Lap-
land rivers in spite of their torrent like currents,
and surpass the perpendicular falls of Leixslip,
Kennerth, and Pont Aberglastyn. The salmon
is so generally known that a very brief descrip-
tion will serve. It has been known to weigh
seventy-four pounds. The color of the back and
sides is gray, sometimes spotted with black,
sometimes plain ; the covers of the gilta are sub-
ject to the same variety ; the belly silvery : the
nose sharp-pointed; the end of the under j;nv
in the males often turns up in the form of a
hook ; sometimes this curvature is very consider-
able ; it is said that they lose this hook when
they return to the sea. The teeth are lodged in
the jaws and on the tongue, and are slender but
very sharp; the tail is a little forked. When the
fish enter the Friths, or mouths of the rivers, at the
commencement of their upward migration, and
are thus in good condition, they are termed, in
the language of fishermen, clean fish. At this
period they are infested with the salmon louse,
caligus productus of naturalists, and which
chiefly adhere to the more insensible parts. But
when arrived at the place of spawning, the fish
is lean, as the whole fat of the body has passed
into the melt and the roe. In this state, in
which they are termed red fish, they are worth-
less as an article of food. After the fish have
spawned they are termed kelts or foul fish, and
are equally despised with the red fish. The gills
are now more or less covered with the entomoda
salmonea. The motion of the fish upwards from
the sea to the river and place of spawning is in-
fluenced by several causes. When there is abun-
dance of fresh water in the Friths the fish seem
to proceed regularly and rapidly up the middle
of the stream, enter the rivers, and hasten on to
their destination. In returning to the sen, after
spawning, the fish seem to keep the middle of
the stream in the river, and the deepest and
saltest water in the Friths. Salmon enter the
river at all seasons of the year, but they approach
in greatest numbers during the summer months.
Fish taken in May, June, and July, are much
fatter than fish in the same condition as to
spawning, taken in February, March", or April.
They fall off in fatness very rapidly from August
to January, when they are leanest. The princi-
pal spawning season is in November, December,
and January. See FISHERIES. Salmon fisheries,
Marshal observes, are ' copious and constant
sources of human food ; they rank next to agri-
culture. They have indeed one advantage over
every other internal produce : their increase does
not lessen other articles of human sustenance.
The salmon does not prey on the produce of the
soil, nor does it owe its size and nutritive quali-
ties to the destruction of its compatriot tribes. It
leaves its native river at an early state of growth ;.
and, going even naturalists know not where, re-
turns of ample size, and rich in human nourish-
ment ; exposing itself in the narrowest streams,
as if nature intended it as a special boon to man.
In every stage of savageness and civilisation the
salmon must have been considered as a valuable
benefaction to this country.' From the extremity
of the Highlands, and from the Orkney and
Shetland Islands, these fish are sent up to the
London market in ice ; and when the season is
at its height, and the catch more than can be
taken off hand fresh, they are then salted, pickled,
or dried, for winter consumption at home, and
for thp foreign markets. Perhaps the fishery of
SAL
248
SAL
the Tweed is the first in point of quantity caught,
which is sometimes quite astonishing, several
hundreds being taken at a single draught of the
net. Formerly it was all pickled and killed,
after being boiled, and sent to London under the
name of Newcastle salmon ; but the present mode
has so raised the value of the fish as nearly to
have banished this article of food from the in-
habitants in the environs of the fishery, except as
an expensive luxury. Within memory, salted
salmon formed a material article of economy in
all the farm houses of the vale of Tweed, inso-
much that indoor servants often bargained that
they should not be obliged to take more than •
two weekly meals of salmon. It could then be
bought at 2s. the stone, of nineteen pounds
weight; it is now never below 12s., often 36s.,
and sometimes two guineas.
7. S. thymallus, the umber, or grayling,
haunts clear and rapid streams, and particularly
those that flow through mountainous countries.
It is found in the rivers of Derbyshire ; in some
of those of the north ; in the Tame near Ludiow ;
in the Lug, and other streams near Leominster.
It is also very common in Lapland ; the inhabitants
make use of the entrails of this fish instead of
rennet, to make the cheese which they get from
the milk of the rein deer. It is a voracious fish,
rises freely to the fly, and will very eagerly take a
bait. It is a very swift swimmer, and disappears
like the transient passage of a shadow, whence it
derived the name of umbra.
8. S. trutta, the sea trout, migrates like the
salmon up several of our rivers, spawns, and re-
turns to the sea. The shape is more thick than the
common trout; the irides silver ; the head thick,
smooth, and dusky, with a gloss of blue and
green ; the back of the same color, which grows
fainter towards the side line. The back is plain,
but the sides, as far as the lateral line, are marked
with large distinct irregular-shaped spots of
black ; the lateral line straight ; the sides beneath
the line and the belly are white. Tail broad,
and even at the end. The flesh when boiled is
of a pale red, but well flavored.
SALM'ON, n. s. Lat. salmo ; Fr. saumon. A
well-known fish.
They poke them with an instrument somewhat
like the salmon spear. Carew's Survey of Cornwall.
They take salmon and trouts by groping and tick-
ling them under the bellies in the pools, where they
hover, and so throw them on land. Carew.
Of fishes, you find in arms the whale, dolphin,
salmon, and trout. Peacluim.
The satmmi is accounted the king of fresh water
fish, and is bred in nvers relating to the sea, yet so
far from it as admits no tincture of brackishness.
Sir Francis Karon observes the age of a salmon ex-
ceed* not ten years. After he is got into the sea he
becomes from a samlet, not so big as a gudgeon, to
be a talmun in as short a time as a gosling becomes
a goose. Walton's Angler.
There is in many rivers that relate to the sea »i/-
mott trouts as much different from others, in shape
and spots, as sheep differ in their shape and bigness.
Id.
SALMON, in ichthyology. See SALMO, No. 6.
SALMON FISHERY, &c. See FISHERY.
SALMON (Nathaniel), a celebrated English
divine, physician, and antiquarian, was the son
of the Rev. Thomas Salmon, M. A., rector of
Mepsall. He was admitted of Benet College,
Cambridge, June llth, 1690, and took the de-
gree of LL. D. in 1695. He then entered into
orders, and became curate of Westmill, in Hert-
fordshire ; but, although he had taken the oaths
to king William III., he refused to do so to
queen Anne ; and, being therefore turned out of
his cure, he studied physic, and practised at St.
Ives and Bishop's Stortford. He was married,
and left three daughters. He published, 1. A
Survey of the Roman Antiquities in the Midland
counties of England; in 8vo., 1726. 2. A Sur-
vey of the Roman Stations in Britain, according
to the Roman Itinerary; 8vo., 1728. 3. The
History of Hertfordshire, &c., fol., 1728. 4. The
Lives of the English Bishops from the Restora-
tion to the Revolution; 1733. 5. The Antiqui-
ties of Surrey, &c., 8vo., 1736. 6. The History
and Antiquities of Essex, folio. This work was
left unfinished at his death, in 1738.
SALMON (Thomas), an eminent English histo-
rian and geographer, younger brother to the Dr.
He wrote many useful works, particularly, 1. A
Geographical Grammar ; 8vo., which went
through numberless editions. 2. A History of
England. 3 An examination of Bishop Burnet's
History of his own times. He died in April
1743.
SALMONE, a town of Peloponnesus, in EHs,
with a fountain, forty stadia from Olympia;
thence called Salmonis.
SALMONEUS, in fabulous history, a king of
Elis, the son of ^Eolus and Enarete, and brother
of Sisyphus. He married Alcidice by whom he
had Tyro. Ambitious to be reckoned a god, he
imitated thunder and lightning by artificial fire-
works. Jupiter therefore struck him with a real
thunderbolt, and placed him in hell near his bro-
ther Sisyphus.
SALON, a town in the south-east of France,
in Provence, department of the mouths of the
Rhone. It is situated on a height, on the canal
of Capronne, and its trade consists in the produce
of the neighbouring country, viz. corn, cattle,
wool, olives and silk. Inhabitants 6300. Eiglv-
teen miles W.N.W. of Aix, and nineteen east of
Aries.
SALONA, a town of Austrian Dalmatia, on a
bay of the Adriatic, once a town of importance,
having been taken and destroyed in the reign of
Augustus, but rebuilt by Tiberius, who sent
thither a Roman colony, and made it the capital
of Illyricum. This rank it long held ; but seems
to have declined after the reign of Dioclesian.
Two miles north-east of Spalatro.
SALONA, a considerable town of Livadia, near
a bay called the gulf of Salona, which is an inlet
from the gulf of Corinth. Salona is situated in
a fertile and highly cultivated plain, at the foot
of mount Parnassus, and is supposed to occupy
the site of the ancient Amphissu. The modern
town has no fortifications. Its population is
estimated at 8000, and its trade is considerable.
Salona is the see of a bishop, subject to the arch-
bishop of Athens. Forty-eight miles north-east
of Lepanto.
SALONICA anciently called Thessalonica,
Hallia, and Therma, a large and handsome city
SAL
249
SAL
of Macedon, standing at the northern extremity
of a great bay, and on the acclivity of a steep
hill, which rises from the bay at its north-east
extremity. The circumference of the walls is
about five miles, and the fortress has seven
towers. The domes and minarets of mosques
are seen rising from among the other buildings,
environed by cypresses, and giving a general air
of splendor to the place. In ancient times this was
a comparatively small place, and is indebted for
its increase to the advantage of its position.
With the country to the north, one of the most
fertile districts in Macedon, it communicates by
land, or by the river Vardari, the ancient Axius.
The articles collected in Salonica, viz. cotton,
tobacco, corn, and wool, are exported to different
parts of Europe. The Turks never carried on
much business here; it is in the hands of Greeks,
Jews, and Frank or French, Italian, English, or
Dutch merchants, all of whom have consuls here.
The population is computed at 70,000.
Salonica has few antiquities, except the pro-
py'laea of the ancient Hippodrome, the alto re-
lievos on which are represented in a series of
beautiful and accurate engravings, in Stuart's
Antiquities of Athens. 272 miles west of Con-
stantinople, and 252 E. S. E. of Ragusa. Long.
22° 56' E., lat. 40° 38' 7" N.
SALONIKA, the wife of the emperor Gallie-
nus, eminent for her public and private virtues.
She patronised the arts and sciences, and to her
Rome was greatly indebted for a short period of
prosperity. But her virtues could not preserve
her from the murderers of her husband, v?ho
assassinated both, A. D. 268.
SALSETTE, an island on the western coast
of Hindostan, and province of Aurungabad,
formerly separated from Bombay by a strait 200
yards wide, across which, in the year 1805, a
causeway was carried. This island is eighteen
miles long, by fourteen broad, and is well adapt-
ed for sugar, cotton, hemp, indigo, &c. ; but it
has hitherto been kept in a state of nature, for
the purpose of supplying Bombay with wood,
charcoal, and sea salt. Salsette is remarkably
rich in antiquities, and the remains of reservoirs,
with flights of stone steps round them, the ruins
of temples, &c. The most remarkable object,
however, is the caverns at Kennere, which con-
tain two colossal statues of Boodh. One of
these was converted by the Portuguese into a
church. In 1773, during a rupture with the
Mahrattas, it was occupied by the British troops,
and has ever since remained in their possession.
Janna is the chief town.
SAL'SIFY, n. s. A plant.
Salsify, or the common sort of goatsbeard, is of a
very long oval figure, as if it were cods all over
streaked, and engraven in the spaces between the
streaks, which are sharp-pointed towards the end.
Mortimer's Husbandry.
SALSOACID, n. *. Lat. 'salsus and acidus.
Having a taste compounded of saltness and sour-
ness.
The distinction of salts, whereby they are discri-
minated into acid, volatile, or ialsugiueut, if I may
so call the fugitive salts of animal substances, and
fixed or alcalizale, may appear in much use in na-
tural philosophy. Boyle.
The takoacids help its passing off; as sal nrunel.
Floyer.
SALSOLA, glass-wort ; a genus of the digy-
nia order, and pentandria class of plants, natu-
ral order twelfth, holoraceae : CAL. pentaphyl-
lous : CAPS, monospermous, with a screwed seed.
The species are these : —
1 . S. kali, growing naturally in the salt marshes
in divers parts of England. It is an annual
plant, which rises above five or six inches hieh,
sending out many side branches, which spread
on every side, garnished with short awl-shaped
leaves, which are fleshy, and terminate in acute
spines. The flowers are produced from the side
of the branches, to whicn they sit close, and are
encompassed by short prickly leaves ; they are
small, and of an herbaceous color. The seeds
are wrapped up in the empalement of the flower,
and ripen in autumn; soon after which the plant
decays.
2. S. rosacea, growing naturally in Tartary, is
an annual plant, whose stalks are herbaceous, and
seldom rise more than five or six inches high.
The leaves are awl-shaped, ending in acute
points ; the empalements of the flowers spread
open; the flowers are small, and of a rose color,
but soon fade ; the seeds are like those of the
other kinds.
3. S. soda rises with herbaceous stalks, nearly
three feet high, spreading wide. The leaves on
the principal stalk, and those on the lower part
of the branches, are long, slender, and have no
spines'; those on the upper part of the stalk and
branches are slender, short, and crooked. At
the base of the leaves are produced the flowers,
which are small and hardly perceptible; the em-
palement of the flower afterwards encompasses
the capsule, which contains one cochleated seed.
All the sorts of glass-wort are sometimes pro-
miscuously used for making kali, but this species
is esteemed best. The manner of making it is
as follows : — Having dug a trench near the sea,
they place laths across it, on which they lay the
herbs in heaps ; and, having made a fire below,
the liquor which runs out of the herbs drops to
the bottom, which at length thickening, becomes
kali, which is partly of a black, and partly of an
ash color, very sharp and corrosive, and of a
saltish taste. This, when thoroughly hardened,
becomes like a stone ; and in that state is trans-
ported to different countries for the making of
glass.
4. S. tragus grows naturally on the sandy
shores of the south of France, Spain, and Italy.
This is also an annual plant, which sends out
many diffused stalks, garnished with linear leaves
an inch long, ending with sharp spines. The
flowers come out from the side of the stalks in
the same manner as those of the former ; their
empalements are blunt, and not so closely en-
compassed with leaves as those of the other.
5. S. vermiculata grows naturally in Spain.
This has shrubby perennial stalks, which rise
three or four feet high, sending out many side
branches, garnished with fleshy, oval, acute
pointed leaves, coming out in clusters from the
side of the branches, they are hoary, and have
stiff' prickli-.s. The flowers are produced from
between t!uj leaves to\\;ira the end of the
250
SALT.
branches ; they are so small as scarcely to be
discerned unless they are closely viewed. The
seeds are like those of the other kinds.
SALT, n. s., adj., & v. a.-x Saxon pea^c>
SALT-CAT, n. s. I Goth., Swed., and
SALT-CELLAR, lT)zn.salt; Fr.se/;
SALTEB, TLat. sal. A well
SALTERN, 1 known combina-
SALTPETRE. J tion of an acid
with an alkali, earth, or metallic oxide : impreg-
nated with, or abounding in salt. See CHEMIS-
TRY, and below. Taste ; smack ; relish ; wit : to
season with salt : a salt-cat is a name for a
lump of salt, see below : salt-cellar, the vessel
that usually holds the salt : saltern, a salt-pan or
work : saltish, saltly, and saltness, correspond :
saltpetre (Lat. sal petr<s) nitre.
He shall inhabit the parched places in the wil-
derness in a salt land, ana not inhabited.
Jer. xvii. 6.
Moab and Ammon shall be as the breeding of
nettles, salt-pits, and a perpetual desolation.
Zech. ii. 9.
Is not discourse,' manhood, learning, gentleness,
virtue, and liberality, the spice and salt that seasons
a man ? Shakspeare.
Though we are justices and doctors, and church-
men, Mr. Page, we have some salt of our youth in
us ; we are the sons of women.
Id. Merry Wives of Windsor.
We were better parch in Africk sun,
Than in the pride and toll scorn of his eyes.
Shakspeare.
Thou old and true Menenius,
Thy tears are softer than a younger man's,
And venomous to thine eyes. Id. Coriolanus.
Be a whore still :
Make use of thy salt hours, season the slaves
For tubs and baths ; bring down the rose-cheeked
youth
To the tub-fast and the diet. Id. Timon.
This new-married man, approaching here,
VVhose salt imagination yet hath wronged
Your well-defended honour, you must pardon.
Shakspeare.
After these local names, the most have been de-
rived from occupations ; as smith, taller, armourer.
Camdent Remains.
Some think their wits have been asleep, except
they dart out somewhat that is piquant and to the
quick ; men ought to find the difference between salt-
ness and bitterness. Bacon.
Cicero prettily calls them salinas salt-pans, that
you may extract salt out of, and sprinkle where you
please. Id.
It hath been observed by the ancients, that salt
water will dissolve salt put into it in less time than
fresh water. Id.
Nitre, or saltpetre, having a crude and windy
spirit, by the heat of the fire suddenly dilateth. Id.
If the offering was of flesh, it was salted thrice.
Browne.
Since salts differ much, some being 'nit, some vo-
latile, some acid, and some urinous, the two qualities
wherein they agree are, that it is easily dissoluble in
water, and affects the palate with a sapour good or
«v''-. Boyle.
Nitre or taltpetrt, in heaps of earth, has been ex-
tracted, if they be exposed to the air, so as to be
kept from rain. Locke.
Soils of a saltish nature improve sandy ground.
Mortime*.
In Cheshire they improve their lands by letting
out the water of the salt springs on them, always
after rain. Id.
Many give a lump of salt, which they usually
call a salt-cat, made at the saltern, which makes
the pigeons much affect the place. Id. Husbandry.
A leap into salt waters very often gives a new mo-
tion to the spirits, and a new turn to the blood.
Addison.
A particle of salt may be compared to a chaos,
being dense, hard, dry, earthy in the centre, and
rare, soft, and moist in the circumference.
teuton's Optichs.
The stratum lay at about twenty-five fathoms, by
the duke of Somerset's salt-pant near \Vhitehaven.
Woodward on Fossils,
Salts are bodies friable and brittle, in some degree
pellucid, sharp or pungent to the taste, and dissolu-
ble in water ; but, after that is evaporated, incorpo-
rating, crystallising, and forming themselves into
angular figures. Woodward.
When any salt is spilt on the table-cloth, shake it
out into the saltcellar.
Swift's Directions to the Butler.
SALT is distinguished by some into three
kinds : native or rock salt ; common, or sea
salt, or white salt ; and bay salt.
SALT, BAY. Under the title of bay salt are
ranked all kinds of common salt extracted from
the water wherein it is dissolved, by means of
the sun's heat, and the operation of the air ;
whether the water from which it is extracted be
sea water, or natural brine drawn from wells and
springs, or salt water stagnating in ponds and
lakes. It does not appear that there is any other
thing requisite in the formation of bay salt, than
to evaporate the sea water with an exceeding
gentle heat ; and it is even very probable that
our common sea salt by a second solution and
crystallisation might attain the requisite degree
of purity.
SALT, COMMON, or sea salt, or white salt, the
name of that salt extracted from the waters of
the ocean, which is used in great quantities for
preserving provisions, &c. It is composed of
muriatic acid, saturated with soda ; and hence, in
the new chemical nomenclature, it is called
muriate of soda. See CHEMISTRY, Index. It is
commonly found in salt water and salt springs,
in the proportion of thirty-six per cent. It is
found also in coals and in beds of gypsum. Of
this most useful commodity there are ample
stores on land as well as in the ocean. There
are few countries which do not afford vast quan-
tities of rock or fossil salt. Mines of it have
long be«n discovered and wrought in England,
Spain, Italy, Germany, Hungary, Poland, and
other countries of Europe. In several parts of
the world there are huge mountains which wholly
consist of fossil salt. Of this kind are two
mountains in Russia, near Astracan ; several in
the kingdoms of Tunis and Algiers, in Africa ;
and several also in Asia ; and the whole island
of Ormus in the Persian gulf almost entirely
consists of fossil salt. The new world is like-
wise stored with treasures of this useful mineral,
as well as with all other kinds of subterranean
productions. The sea affords such vast plenty
of common salt, that all mankind might thence
be supplied with quantities sufficient for their
occasions. There are also innumerable ' springs,
SALT.
251
ponds, lakes, and rivers, impregnated with
common salt, from which the inhabitants of
many countries are plentifully supplied there-
with. In some countries which are remote from
the sea, and have little commerce, and which are
not blessed with mines of salt or salt waters, the
necessities of the inhabitants have forced them
to invent a method of extracting their common
salt from the ashes of vegetables. And the in-
genious Dr. Fothergill extracted plenty of it from
the ashes of fern. See Medical Essays, vol. v.
article 13. Mr. Boyle discovered common salt
in human blood and urine. ' I have observed
it,' says Mr. Brownrigg, ' not only in human
urine, but also in that of dogs, horses, and black
cattle. It may easily be discovered in these,
and many other liquids impregnated with it, by
certain very regular and beautiful starry figures
which appear in their surfaces after congelation.
These figures I first observed in the great frost
in 1739. The dung of such animals as feed
upon grass or grain doth also contain plenty of
common salt.' Naturalists, observing the great
variety of forms under which this salt appears,
have thought fit to rank the several kinds of it
under certain general classes ; distinguishing it,
more usually, into rock, or fossil salt, sea salt,
nnd brine or fountain salt. To which classes
others might be added, of those muriatic salts
•vhich are found in animal and vegetable sub-
stances. These several kinds of common salt
often differ from each other in their outward
form and appearance, or in such accidental pro-
perties as they derive from the heterogeneous
substances with which they are mixed. But,
when perfectly pure, they have all the same
qualities ; so that chemists, by the exactest en-
quiries, have not been able to discover any
essential difference between them. Immense
masses of it are found in different countries,
which require only to be dug out and reduced
to powder. In this state it is called rock salt.
The water of the ocean also contains a great
proportion of this salt, to which indeed it owes
its taste, and the power it possesses of resisting
freezing till cooled down to zero. When this
water is evaporated sufficiently, the salt precipi-
tates in crystals. It is by this process that it is
obtained in this country. But the salt of com-
merce is not sufficiently pure for the purposes of
chemistry, as it contains usually muriate of lime,
&c. ; but it may be obtained pure by the follow-
ing process : — Dissolve it in four times its weight
of pure water, and filter the solution. Drop
into it a solution of carbonate of soda, as long
as any precipitate continues to fall. Separate
the precipitate by filtration, and evaporate slowly
till the salt crystallises. Muriate of soda usually
crystallises in cubes, which, according to Hauy,
are the primitive form of its crystals and its in-
tegrant particles. It is the most common and
most useful seasoner of food ; it preserves meat
from putrefaction, and butter from rancidity ; it
serves for an enamel to the surfaces of coarse
stone ware ; it is an ingredient in many processes
of dyeing; metallurgists use it in many of their
essays. Its utility in chemistry is equally ex-
tensive. From it muriatic and oxy-muriatic
acids are obtained ; and from it also of late great
quantities of soda have been extracted, and in-
troduced with advantage as a substitute for the
soda formerly obtained from the combustion of
vegetables. The acid is easily extracted from
this salt by means of sulphuric acid ; but to
obtain the alkali at a cheap rate is not so easy.
The methods which have hitherto succeeded may
be reduced to two: — 1. Muriate of soda may be
decomposed by some substance which has a »
stronger affinity for muriatic acid than soda has.
The soda by this process is set at liberty, and
may be obtained by evaporation and crystallisa-
tion. There are three substances capable of
setting the base of common salt at liberty, and
of furnishing soda, either pure or in the state of
carbonate. These are litharge, lime, and iron.
When about four parts of litharge and one of
common salt, properly pounded and mixed, are
macerated in a little water for several hours and
stirred repeatedly, the muriatic acid gradually
combines with the oxide of lead, and forms a
muriate, while the soda is left in solution, and
may be obtained separately by filtration and
evaporation. The decomposition goes on still
more rapidly, if the mixture be heated during
the process. That the alkali may be extracted
from common salt by lime is a fact, for which we
are indebted to Scheele. Cahausen indeed had
hinted at it in 1717, but his treatise had been
forgotten. Scheele ascertained that a mixture
of lime and common salt, formed into a paste,
and placed in a moist cellar, was covered with
an efflorescence of soda in fifteen days. Ber-
thollet has rendered it probable that the soda
which is found abundantly in the west of Egypt
is formed naturally by a similar process, lo
Scheele likewise we owe the discovery that com-
mon salt may be decomposed by iron. lie
observed that a wooden vessel, placed in a cel-
lar, and containing brine, had its iron hoops co-
vered with an efflorescence of soda. This in-
duced him to dip a plate of iron into a solution
of common salt, and to suspend it in a cellar.
After an interval of fourteen days, he found his
iron incrusted with soda. The same decompo-
sition takes place also if zinc or copper be sub-
stituted for iron. 2. The second method of
extracting soda from common salt is less direct.
It consists in displacing the muriatic by some
other acid, which may be afterwards easily de-
composed or displaced ; thus the soda is left
behind at last, in a state of purity. The acids
which have been made use of are the sulphuric
and acetous ; the boracic, phosphoric, and arsenic
acids might indeed be employed, as they decom-
pose common salt in a high temperature. The
products in that case would be borat, or the
phosphate or arseniate of the same base, accord-
ing to the acid. These salts might be afterwards
decomposed by lime, and the soda obtained
separate. But these acids are a great deal too
high priced to admit of their employment. Sul-
phuric acid may be either employed in a separate
state, or in combination with bases, when the
salts which it then forms can be procured at a
sufficiently cheap rate. Alum, sulphate ot
lime, and sulphate of iron, have been respect-
ively employed with advantage to decompose
c«mmon salt, and obtain sulphate of soda.
252
SALT.
Alum was first employed for that purpose by
Constantini, a physician of Melle near Osna-
burgh, about 1650. The process does not suc-
ceed but at a low temperature. Sulphate of
lime decomposes common salt when formed with
it into balls, and exposed to a strong heat.
Much discussion has taken place among the
German chemists about the possibility of de-
composing common salt by sulphate of iron.
That sulphate of soda may be obtained by ex-
posing a mixture of these two salts to a strong
heat was first announced by Vander Ballen.
This was contradicted by Hahneman, but con-
firmed by the experiments of Tuhten, Lieblein,
and VViegleb. It succeeded completely with the
French commissioners, De Lievre, Pelletier,
Darcet, and Girond, who were appointed, in
1794, to examine the different processes for
obtaining soda from common salt. They ascer-
tained also that pyrites or sulphureted oxide of
iron may be employed for the same purpose.
After obtaining the sulphate of soda it is neces-
sary to expel the acid, to obtain the soda separ-
ately. This is done by calcining the salt mixed
with a certain proportion of charcoal or pit-coal.
By this process it is converted into sulphuret of
soda, and the sulphur may be abstracted by the
intervention of iron or chalk. When the sul-
phuret of soda is nearly in fusion, small bits
of iron (the parings of tin-plate answer best)
are thrown in gradually in sufficient quantity to
decompose the sulphate. The fire is raised till
the mixture melts. The iron, having a stronger
affinity for the sulphur, combines with it, and
leaves the soda, which may be separated by so-
lution in water, filtration, and evaporation.
SALT, COMMON, METHOD OF PREPARING.
Without entering into any particular detail of
the processes used for the preparation of bay salt,
in different parts of the world, we shall only give
a brief account of the best methods of preparing
common salt. At some convenient place near
the sea-shore is erected the saltern. This is a
long low buildinsi, consisting of two parts ; one
of which is called the fore-house, and the other
the pan-house or boiling-hou'se. The fore -house
serves to receive the fuel, and cover the work-
men ; and in the boiling-house are placed the
furnace and pan, in which the salt is made.
Sometimes they have two pans, one at each end
of the saltern ; and the part appropriated for the
fuel and workmen is in the middle. The fur-
nace opens into the fore-house by two mouths,
beneath eacli of which is a mouth to the ash-pits.
To the mouths of the furnace doors are fitted ;
and over them a wall is carried up to the roof,
which divides the fore-house from the boiling-
house, and prevents the dust of the coal and the
ashes, and smoke of the furnace from falling into
the salt pan. The fore-house communicates
with the boiling-house by a door placed in the
wall which divides them. The body of the fur-
nace consists of two chambers, divided from
<-;ich other by a brick partition called the mid-
feather ; which from a broad base terminates in
a narrow edge nigh the top of the furnace, and,
by means of short pillars of cast iron erected
upon it, supports the bottom of the salt pun : it
also (ills up a considerable part of the furnace,
which otherwise would be too large, and would
consume more coals than by the help of this
contrivance are required. To each chamber of
the furnace is fitted a grate, through which the
ashes fall into the ash-pits. The grates are made
of long bars of iron, supported underneath by
strong cross bars of the same metal. They are
not continued to the farthest part of the furnace,
it being unnecessary to throw in the fuel so far ;
for the flame is driven from the fire on the grate
to the farthest part of the furnace, and thence
passes, together with the smoke, through two
flues into the chimney ; and thus the bottom of
the salt pan is every where equally heated. The
salt pans are made of an oblong form, flat at the
bottom, with the sides erected at right angles ;
the length of some of these pans is fifteen feet,
the breadth twelve feet, and the depth sixteen
inches ; but at different works they are of dif-
ferent dimensions. They are commonly made of
plates of iron, joined together with nails, and
the joints are filled with a strong cement. Within
the pan five or six strong beams of iron are fixed
to its opposite sides at equal distances, parallel
to each other and to the bottom of the pan, from
which they are distant about eight inches. From
these beams hang down strong iron hooks, which
are linked to othei hooks or clasps of iron firmly
nailed to the bottom of the pan; and thus the
bottom of the pan is supported, and prevented
from bending down or changing its figure. The
plates most commonly used are of malleable
iron, about four feet and a half long, a foot
broad, and the third of an inch in thickness.
The Scots prefer smaller plates, fourteen or fif-
teen inches square. Several make the sides of
the pan, where they are not exposed to the fire, of
lead ; those parts, when made of iron, being
found to consume fast in rust from the steam of
the pan. Some have used plates of cast iron,
five or six feet square, and an inch in thickness;
but they are very subject to break when un-
equally heated, and shaken (as they frequently
are) by the violent boiling of the liquor. The
cement most commonly used to fill the joints is
plaster made of lime. The pan thus formed is
placed over the furnace, being supported at the
four courners by brick work, but along the mid
die, and at the sides and ends, by round pillars
of cast iron, called taplins, which are placed at
three feet distance from each other, being about
eight inches high, and at the top, where smallest,
four inches in diameter. By means of these
pillars the heat of the fire penetrates equally to
all parts of the bottom of the pan, its four cor-
ners only excepted. Care is also taken to pre-
vent the smoke of the furnace from passing into
the boiling-house, by bricks and strong cement,
which are closely applied to every side of the
salt pan. In some places, as at Blyth in Nor-
thumberland, besides the common salt-pans here
described, they have a preparing pan placed be-
tween two salt-pans, in the middle part of the
building, which in other works is the fore-house.
The sea-water, being received into this preparing
pan, is there heated and in part evaporated by
the flame and heat conveyed under it through
flues from the two furnaces of the salt-pans;
and the hot water, as occasion re-quires, is con-
SALT
vcyed through troughs from the preparing pan
into the salt-pans. Various other contrivances
have been invented to lessen the expense of fuel,
and several patents have been obtained for that
purpose ; but the salt-boilers have found their
old methods the most convenient. Between the
sides of the pan and walls of the boiling-house
there runs a walk five or six feet b'oad, where
the workmen stand when they draw the salt, or
have any other business in the boiling-house.
The same walk is continued at the end of the pan,
next to the chimney ; but the pan is placed close
to the wall at the end adjoining to the fore-house.
The roof of the boiling-house is covered with
boards fastened on with nails of wood, iron nails
quickly mouldering into rust. In the roof are
several openings to convey off the watery vapors ;
and on each side of it a window or two, which
the workmen open when they look into the pan
whilst it is boiling. Not far distant from the
saltern on the sea-shore, between full sea and
low-water marks, they also make a little pond in
the rocks, or with stones on the sand, which they
call their sump. From this pond they lay a pipe,
through which, when the tide is in, the sea-
water runs into a well adjoining to the saltern ;
and from this well they pump it into the troughs,
by which it is conveyed into their ship or cis-
tern, where it is stored up until they have occa-
sion to use it. The cistern is built close to the
saltern, and may be placed most conveniently
between the two boiling-houses, on the back side
of the fore-house ; it is made either of wood or
brick and clay : it sometimes wants a cover, but
ought to be covered with a shed, that the salt-
water contained therein may not be weakened by
rains, nor mixed with soot and other impurities.
It should be placed so high that the water may
conveniently run out of it through a trough into
the salt pans. Besides the buildings already men-
tioned, several others are required ; as store-
houses for the salt cisterns for the bittern, an office
for his majesty's salt-officers, and a dwelling-
house for the salt-boilers. All things being thus
prepared, and the sea-water having stood in the
cistern till the mud and sand are settled to the
bottom, it is drawn off into the salt-pan. And at
the four corners of the salt-pan, where the flame
does not touch its bottom, are placed four small
iead pans, called scratch-pans, which, for a salt-
pan of the size above-mentioned, are usually
about a foot and a half long, a foot broad, and
three inches deep ; and have a bow or circular
handle of iron, by which they may be drawn out
with a hook when the liquor in the pan is boiling.
The salt-pan being filled with sea-water, a strong
fire of pit-coal is lighted in the furnace ; and then,
for a pan which contains about 400 gallons, the
salt-boiler takes the whites of three eggs, and in-
corporates them well with two or three gallons of
sea-water, which he pours into the salt- pan while
the water contained therein is only lukewarm ;
and immediately stirs it about with a rake, that
the whites of the eggs may every where be equally
mixed with the salt water. Instead of whites of
ews, at many salterns, as at most of these near
Newcastle, they use blood from the butchers,
either of sheep or black cattle, to clarify the sea-
water ; and at many others they do not give
themselves the trouble of clarifying it. As the
water grows hot, the whites of eggs separate from
it a black frothy scum, which arises to the surface
of the water, and covers it all over. As soon as
the pan begins to boil this scum is all risen, and
it is then time to skim it off. The most conve-
nient instruments for this purpose are skimmers
of thin ash boards, six or eight inches broad, and
so long that they may reach above half way over
the salt-pan. These skimmers have handles fitted
to them ; and the salt-boiler and his assistant,
each holding one of them on the opposite sides
of the pan, apply them so to each other that they
overlap in the middle, and, beginning at one end
of the pan, carry them gently forward together,
along the surface of the boiling liquor to the other
end ; and thus, without breaking the scum, col-
lect it all to one end of the pan, from whence
they easily take it out. After the water is skimmed,
it appears perfectly clear and transparent ; and
they continue boiling it briskly, till so much of
the fresh or aqueous part is evaporated that what
remains in the pan is a strong brine almost fully
saturated with salt, so that small saline crystals
begin to form on its surface ; which operation, in
a pan filled fifteen inches deep with water, is
usually performed in five hours. The pan is then
filled up a second time with clear sea-water drawn
from the cistern ; and, about the time when it is
half filled, the scratch-pans are taken out, and,
being emptied of the scratch found in them, are
again placed in the corners of the salt-pan. The
scratch taken out of these pans is a fine white
calcareous earth found in the form of powder,
which separates from the sea-water during its
coction, before the salt begins to form in grains.
This subtile powder is violently agitated by the
boiling liquor, until it is driven to the corners of
the pan, where, the motion of the liquor being
more gentle, it subsides into the scratch-pans
placed there to receive it, and in them it remains
undisturbed ; and thus the greatest part of it is
separated from the brine. After the pan has
again been filled up with sea- water, three whites
of eggs are mixed with the liquor, by which it is
clarified a second time, in the manner above de-
scribed ; and it is afterwards boiled down to a
strong brine as at first; which second boiling
may take up about four hours. The pan is then
filled up a third time with clear sea-water; and
after that a fourth time ; the liquor being each
time clarified and boiled down to a strong brine,
as before related ; and the scrach-pans being1
taken out and emptied every time that the pan is
filled up. Then, at the fourth boiling, as soon
as the crystals begin to form on the surface of the
brine, they slacken the fire, and only suffer the
brine to simmer, or boil very gently. In this
heat they constantly endeavour to keep it all the
time that the salt corns or granulates, which may
be nine or ten hours. The salt is said to granu-
late, when its minute crystals cohere together into
little masses or grains, which sink down in the
brine and lie at the bottom of the salt-pan. When
most of the liquor is evaporated, and the salt
thus lies in the pan almost dry on its surface, it
is then time to draw it out. This part of the pro-
cess is performed by raking the salt to one side
of the pan into a long hea •, wher it drains a
2.34
SALT.
while from the brine, and is then emptied out into
barrows or other proper vessels, and carried into
the store-house, and delivered into the custody
of his majesty's officers. And in this manner
the whole process is performed in twenty-four
hours, the salt being usually drawn every morn-
ing. In the store-house the salt is put hot
into drabs, which are partitions like stalls for
horses, lined on three sides and at the bottom
with boards, and having a sliding board on the
foreside to put in or draw out as occasion re-
quires. The bottoms are made shelving, being
highest at the back side, and gradually inclining
forwards ; by which means the saline liquor,
which remains mixed with the salt, easily drains
from it ; and the salt in three or four days be-
comes sufficiently dry, and is then taken out of
the drabs and laid up in large heaps, where it is
ready for sale. The saline liquor which drains
from the salt is not a pure brine of common salt,
but has a sharp and bitter taste, and is therefore
called bittern; this liquor at some works they
sitve for particular uses, at others throw away.
A considerable quantity of this bittern is left at
the bottom of the pan after the process is
finished ; which, as it contains much salt, they
suffer to remain in the pan, when it is filled up
with sea-water. But at each process this liquor
becomes more sharp and bitter, and also in-
creases in quantity ; so that, after the third or
fourth process is finished, they are obliged to
take it out of the pan, otherwise it mixes in such
quantities with the salt as to give it a bitter
taste, and disposes it to grow soft and run in
the open air, and renders it unfit for domestic
uses. After each process there also adheres to
the bottom and sides of the pan a white stony crust,
of the same calcareous substance with that be-
fore collected from the boiling liquor. This the
operators call stone- scratch, distinguishing the
other found in the lead pans by the name of
powder-scratch. Once in eight or ten days they
saparate the stone-scratch from their pans with
iron picks, and in several places find it a quarter
of an inch in thickness. If this stony crust is
suffered to adhere to the pan much longer, it
grows so thick that the pan is burnt by the fire,
and quickly wears away.
SALT, NATIVE, or ROCK SALT, or fossil salt, is
common salt dug out of the earth. This kind of
salt is in several countries found so pure that it
serves for most domestic uses, without any pre-
vious preparation (triture excepted); for, of all
natural salts, rock-salt is the most abundantly
furnished by nature in various parts of the world,
being found in large masses, occupying great
tracts of land. It is generally formed in strata
under the surface of the earth, as in Hungary,
Muscovy, Siberia, Poland, Calabria, Egypt,
Ethiopia, and the East Indies. ' In England,'
says Magellan, « the salt mines at Northwich are
in a high ground, and contain it in layers or
strata of various colors, of which the yellow and
brown are the most plentiful, as I have observed
on the spot, which I visited in June 1782, in
company with my worthy and learned friend Mr.
Volta, professor of natural philosophy in the
university of Pavia, and well known by his ?reat
abilities and many discoveries in that branch of
knowledge. The mine into which we descended
was excavated in the form of a vast dome or vault
under ground, supported by various columns of
the salt, that were purposely left to support the
incumbent weight. And, the workmen having
lighted a number of candles all round its circum-
ference, it furnished us with the most agreeable
and surprising sight, whilst we wera descending
in the large tub which serves to bring up the
lumps that are broken from the mine, &c. See
the description of the famous salt mines of
Wieliczka in Poland, by Mr. Bernard, in the
Journal de Physique, vol. xvi., for 1780, p. 459',
in which the miraculous tales concerning these
subterraneous habitations, villages, and towns,
are reduced to their proper magnitude and esti-
mate.' But the English fossil salt is unfit for the
uses of the kitchen, until by solution and coction
it is freed from several impurities, and reduced
into white salt. The British white salt is not so
proper as several kinds of bay salt for curing fish
and such flesh meats as are intended for sea pro-
visions, or for exportation into hot countries. So
that for these purposes we are obliged, either
wholly or in part, to use bay salt, which we
purchase in France, Spain, and other foreign
countries.
It is remarked by the writer of the account of
the Agriculture of Cheshire, that, from some ex-
periments made on different specimens of the
rock-salt of that county, it would appear that the
transparent kind of it is an almost pure muriate
of soda, which contains no admixture of either
earth or earthy salts ; and that the color of the
less transparent and brown specimens is derived
from the earth that enters, in greater or less pro-
portions, into their compositions. That on 480
grains of transparent rock-salt being dissolved
in four ounces of distilled water, there was, first,
no precipitate let fall, on the addition of car-
bonate of potash. Secondly, no alteration was
produced by this solution on blue vegetable
juices. Thirdly, on the addition of a few drops
of tincture of galls, a slight purple tinge was
given to the solution ; and after standing some
hours, there was a brown sediment at the bottom
of the vessel. Fourthly, on the addition of mu-
riate of barytes, there was no precipitate thrown
down. From the first of these trials, it is sup-
posed that rock-salt has no muriate of lime, or
muriate of magnesia, combined with it ; from
the second, that it has no uncombined acid or
alkali ; from the third, that it contains some por-
tion of iron ; and from the fourth, or last, that
there is no sulphate of lime contained in it.
And that, on examining different specimens of the
less transparent, and the brown rock-salt, with
the same re-agents as in the above trials, it was
found that these consisted of muriate of soua,
or sea-salt, in combination with a certain pro-
portion of earth, varying in quantity from one
to thirty per cent. ; also, that the earth was
wholly the argillaceous or common clay ; but
that some of the specimens contained a few
grains of sulphate of lime, in 480 of those of
the rock-salt.
The beds of this salt are now well known to
be the principal cause of the salt-brine spring*
in this county ; and, in connexion wur. some
SALT.
255
other circumstances, to have a great share in
causing the vast differences in their strength, in
di-U'erent places.
Although rock-salt is found in various parts of
the above district, there are no pits of it wrought
at present, except in the vicinity of Northwich.
Part of the inferior rock-salt which is procured
there, is, it is said, used at some of the refineries
in that neighbourhood; and a further quantity
sent down the river Weaver, for the supply of
the refineries at Frodsham, in the same county,
and those on the banks of the Mersey, in Lan-
cashire. The purer rock-salt, or that which is
called in general Prussian rock, is carried by the
same conveyance to the port of Liverpool ;
whence, according to the above writer, it is ex-
ported chiefly to Ireland, and the ports of the
Baltic. The annual quantity sent down the first
of the above rivers is found, on the average of
ten years, to be 51,109 tons. But in this, it is
observed, is included what is used at the Frod-
sham and Lancashire refineries, which may pro-
bably be about one-third of the whole. And it
is added that it appears, from the report of the
committee of the house of commons, appointed
to inquire into the laws respecting the salt du-
ties, printed in June, 1801, that,
in 1798) (-20,162) f
1799 Were exported? 33,913 £'
1800 ) (.34,9393
Of this quantity,
in 1798 . . . 16,095)
1799 . . . 22,374 Mons
1800 . . . 19,663 )
•were sent to different ports in Ireland ; the re-
mainder was principally exported to Denmark,
Russia, Sweden, Prussia, and Germany. A
small quantity went to Guernsey, Jersey, and the
\\ est Indies.
In regard to the original formation of the beds
or strata of rock-salt, in this and other countries,
different theories, opinions, and conjectures,
have been formed and proposed ; but it is one of
those geological questions which are extremely
embarrassing in their nature, and very difficult in
their solution. Mr. Holland has, however, in the
above work, ingeniously stated several supposi-
tions on the subject, and the objections to which
they are exposed. It is remarked that, wherever
rock-salt is met with, sulphate of lime seems to
lie very generally discovered in mixture with the
earthy strata above it. And the writer of the
Memoir sur le Sel Marin,in the eleventh volume
of the Annals of Chemistry, it is added, informs
us, that this is the case in Poland, Transylvania,
and Hungary ; also, that there is commonly a
layer of gypsum betwixt the strata of stone
and the bed of salt. This gypseous layer is
of different colors and is found crystallised,
striated, and mixed with marine "shells. The
gypsum above the beds of rock-salt in Cheshire
is, in like manner, found crystallised and striated,
but no marine exuviae, or organic remains, it is
observed, are ever met with in any of the strata.
Nor does gypsum accompany it. as is usual in
other places, as near Cordova, .in Spain, where
rock-salt forms a mountain 500 feet in height,
and three miles in circumference, as noticed l.y
Kirwan and Townshend. Jars, the author of the
Voyages Metallurgiques, who, it is asserted, has
given the most particular account we have of the
upper stratum of rock-salt about Northwich, re-
marks, that ' it appears to have been deposited
by layers or beds of several colors ; ' and that
' these layers of salt are in such a position as to
lead us to believe that the deposition of it was
made in waves, similar to those which are formed
on the sea-coast .'This, Mr. Holland says, coincides
with an opinion suggested by Mr. Stanley, a friend
of his, in regard to the probable origin of the beds
of rock-salt now in existence in this district ; who
states that rock-salt is there found in several
strata, one above the other, with intermediate beds
of indurated clay, in the valleys of the Weaver,
and those of the other rivers and brooks empty-
ing themselves into it ; but that it has never been
found so near the surface, as to be above the level
of the sea, or beneath any solid rock. If beds of
rock-salt are to be considered as so many depo-
sits of salt from sea-water, we must suppose the
sea at some former period to have occupied the
valleys in this country; and that, from time to
time the communications were interrupted be-
tween these valleys (tthen deeper than they are
now) and the sea. Earthquakes, or accumula-
tions of sand in the estuaries of the Mersey and
the Dee, might, it is contended, have caused the
interruptions. Whenever the sea-water in the
valleys became separated from the sea, the salt
contained in it would subside by the natural
process of evaporation. This, it is supposed,
would the more easily have taken place, if, by any
subterraneous fermentation, the ground below
the water should have been heated. To account
for a greater accumulation of salt than the sea-
water filling ail the lowest parts of the district
would contain, we must suppose, it is said, that
the obstruction interposed between the valleys
and the sea had been repeatedly broken down
and renewed again. Tides, unusually high,
might occasionally overcome the resistance of
the accumulated sand ; and, if the intervals be-
tween the inundations were only of short dura-
tion, a subsidence of salt might take place equal
to the formation of the thickest stratum of the
rock-salt now existing. Long intervals be-
tween the inundations would admit of an ac-
cumulaton of clay, and other earthy particles,
over the salt thus deposited ; and in this manner
would be formed a new basis for another stratum
of rock-salt to repose upon. Thus, it is thought,
the regular and astonishing existence of salt
strata may be accounted for, without necessarily
supposing them coeval with the original forma-
tion of the earth ; but, to confirm the theory, it
is suggested that much observation and close en-
quiry into the natural history of the county
would be required.
Mr. Holland, however, suggests that there are
many objections to the theory which supposes the
beds of rock- salt in this district to have been formed
by deposition from the waters of the sea; some
of which he states rather for the sake of promot-
ing discussion and enquiry, than of affording any
very decided opinion on a matter of so much
doubt, uncertainty, and obscurity. Though on
making a perpendicular section of the upper bed
256
SALT.
of rock-salt, nn im*rular stratification, such as
noticed by J;irs, may, lie says, by frequent accu-
rate examination, be. observed, the general ap-
pearance of the sides of the openings, whence
'.he rock-salt is taken, is that of a confused and
irregular red mass ; in which some portions of
salt have a greater, others a less, proportionate
admixture of earth ; while here and there they
may be seen perfectly pure and transparent. He,
therefore, asks, is it likely that this irregularity
and confusion would have existed, had the beds
of rock-salt in this district been formed by the
evaporation of sea-water inundating the land at
certain intervals of time, as the above theory
supposes ? On the contrary, says he, would it
not be natural to expect from reasonings a priori,
that the salt, thus deposited from sea-water,
would be disposed in layers perfectly regular,
and differing from one another merely in thick-
ness, or a few other circumstances of inferior
moment? Another fact xvhich, it is supposed,
invalidates, in some measure, the notion that the
rock-salt has been deposited from the waters of
the sea, is the great disproportion of quantity
shown by analysis to exist between the earthy
salts contained in the brine of this district, and
those held in solution by sea-water ; the ratio
here being as one to ten, or the proportion which
the earthy salts bear to the pure muriate of soda
in sea-water is ten times greater than that which
prevails in the Cheshire brine. The ascertaining
of this fact proves, it is supposed, that the rock-
salt (from the solution of which the brine is
formed) is combined with a much smaller pro-
portion of earthy salts than exists in sea-water ;
a circumstance difficult to be accounted for, on
the supposition that the beds of this substance
were formed by the evaporation of the sea-water,
occupying the valleys and lowest parts of the
land. It must be noticed, however, as worthy of
attention, that the earthy salts intermixed with the
rock-salt in the above district are the same which
are held in solution by sea-water, being princi-
pally muriated magnesia and sulphate of lime.
There is, however, a still stronger proof, it is
supposed, against the notion that the beds of
rock-salt in this county are depositions from the
sea-water, in the circumstance that no marine
exuviae have ever been discovered in the strata.
This, it is imagined, .would almost indubitably
have been the case, had the land been covered
with sea-water during a period of sufficient
length for the deposition of beds of salt of such
prodigious thickness ; and the fact, that no such
exuviae do actually exist, is supposed in itself
sufficient to induce a suspicion that the theory
in question cannot be well founded. Other ob-
jections too i* is observed, offer themselves to
its validity; such as the enormous depth of sea-
water necessary to the production of a body of
rock-salt forty yards in thickness ; the difficulty,
if not impossibility, on such principles, of ac-
counting forthe formation of the singular insulated
mountain of rock-salt at Cordova in Spain; with
others of a more trivial nature, which will readily
present themselves in this enquiry. It is, how-
ever, at the same time candidly acknowledged,
that there are many facts and circumstances of
actual observation, that confer a strong degree of
plausibility on the opinion, which it has been here
contended against. The certainty that the surface
of the county was at some former period mi ch
lower than it is at present, and the diminution
of the thickness of the strata of rock-salt in pro-
portion as they recede from the sea, are circum-
stances which undoubtedly range themselves on
this side of the question : and, upon the whole,
it is thought, that it may be doubted whether the
theory, which regards the beds of rock-salt as
deposits from sea-water, does not accord more
exactly with existing appearances than any
other which has been adduced on the subject.
According to the satement of. Mr. Holland, in
his Agricultural Survey, the first bed and pit of
rock-salt was found and wrought in Marbury,
at a small distance from the town of Northwich,
at the depth of about thirty yards from the sur-
face, in the year 1670, when searching for coal.
The bed was thirty yards in thickness, and rested
upon a stratum or layer of hard clay. In con-
sequence of this discovery, other similar attempts
were made ; and, on sinking shafts or pits any
where in the vicinity of it within the space of
half a mile, it was found to exist at about the
same depth from the surface of the earth, when
not prevented from being dug down to by brine-
springs or those of common water. This conti-
nued the only place in which it was found until
the year 1779, when this sort of rock was again
met with in searching for brine in the neighbour-
hood of Lawton, at the depth of about forty-two
yards, but only of the thickness of about four
feet ; there being beneath it a bed of indurated
clay ten yards in thickness, which, being pene-
trated through, a second stratum of rock-salt was
discovered, twelve feet in thickness ; and, on con-
tinuing the sinking of the pit, another layer of
indurated clay, fifteen yards in thickness,
passed through ; below which appeared a third
stratum of rock-salt, which was unk into not
less than twenty-four yards ; the lowest four-
teen yards, being the purest, or the least mixed
with other substances, were the only parts that
were wrought.
Until this period, in the neighbourhood of
Northwich, no attempts had, however, been
made to sink pits in order to find a lower stra-
tum of rock-salt; as the one which had been
first met with was so thick, and furnished such
an abundant supply for every demand, there
could be no other inducement to this than the
expectation of meeting with a stratum, at a
greater depth, which might contain a less ad-
mixture of earthy matters. It would seem, too,
that the fear of meeting with springs below,
which might impede the working out of the
materials from the pits, and even render this
wholly impracticable, prevented the proprietors
of them from sinking deeper. As, however, no
inconvenience or interruption of this nature had
occurred, on sinking through different alternate
strata of rock-salt and clay at Lawton ; and it
had been found that there was a wer stratum
of rock-salt there, which was more pure than
those nearer the surface, the owners of one of
the works or pits in this vicinity were induced,
a little time after the trials at Lawton, as in 1781,
to sink deeper than had yet been done, and to
SALT.
25?
pass through the bed or body of indurated clay
lying underneath the rock-salt, which had been
so long known and wrought. This indurated
clayey material was found to be from ten to
eleven yards in thickness ; and immediately be-
neath it a second stratum of rock-salt was met
with, the upper part of which differed little in
purity from that of the higher stratum or layer
of rock ; but, on penetrating into it to the extent
of from twenty to twenty-five yards, it was there
* found to be much more pure and free from
earthy admixture. But it continued to have this
increased degree of purity for four or five yards
only; while, for fourteen yards still lower, to
which depth the pit or shaft was sunk, the pro-
portion of earthy matter was again as large as in
the upper part of the stratum. It was therefore,
on this account, thought useless to sink the pit
to any greater depth. Many other proprietors
of pits, shafts, or mines, in the same neighbour-
hood, it is stated, followed the example which
had been thus set them ; and penetrated through
the bed of indurated clay lying beneath the upper
stratum of rock-salt. A second stratum of rock-
salt was constantly met with below this ; and, on
passing down into it, the same order of disposi-
tion as to purity was observed, as in the pit or
mine in which it had been first noticed and ex-
amined ; and the same has been found to prevail
in all the pits, shafts, works, and mines, which
have since been sunk in the same vicinity. It
is further noticed that there is great uniformity
in the strata which are passed through in sinking
pits for rock-salt or brine ; and that they very
generally consist of clay and sulphate of lime
mixed in various proportions; that of the latter
somewhat increasing as the pit, shaft, or work,
approaches the rock or brine. The workmen
distinguish the clay by the appellation of metal,
giving it the name of red, brown, or blue metal,
according to its color; and the sulphate of lime
by that of plaster.
The strata formed by these are, in general,
close and compact ; allowing very little fresh
water to pass through them. In some places,
however, they are broken and porous : and they
admit so much fresh water into the pit or work,
that, whenever they have been met with, it has
been usual to discontinue any attempts to pass
through them in sinking the pits. In these places
the workmen call the metal saggy. It was
thought not only impracticable to overcome a
water, which vulgar prejudice had magnified into
a great stream running under ground ; but it was
believed, even if the sinking could be continued
below this, that the water could not be kept out
of the pit, shaft, or work, and that it would either
weaken the brine so as to destroy its value, or
would find its way into the cavity of any rock,
pit, or mine, which might be found below it.
Later experience, it is said, has proved that these
ideas were not altogether well founded. A
few years ago an attempt was made in VVitton
to pass through this porous stratum, in order to
get to the brine. It was met with about twenty-
eight yards from the surface ; the thickness of it
was about thirteen feet ; and the quantity of
water, which was forced through it into the pit
or shaft, was 360 gallons a minute. By means of
VOL. XIX.
a steam-engine, the sinkers were enabled to pass
through this water ; to fix a gauge or curb a few
yards below it, in a stratum of indurated clay ;
and thence to bring up a wooden frame, sup-
porting a wall of puddled earth twelve inches
thick, by which the access of the fresh water into
the pit or shaft was in a great degree prevented,
and an opportunity given to pass down to the
brine below. A shaft was afterwards sunk
through this porous stratum, for the purpose of
obtaining rock-salt ; which object was, after a
short time, defeated, by the influx of brine into
the shaft at the surface of the upper stratum of
rock-salt ; an accident originating in a cause
completely distinct from the fresh water in the
porous stratum or bed. An exact section of the
different strata sunk through in reaching the se-
cond bed of rock-salt in the pit at Witton, near
Northwich, is given by Mr. Holland in the
above report ; and all the strata in the neigh-
bourhood of the last town are supposed to have
nearly a similar disposition. The inclination of
them in the pit or shaft at the above place was
from north-west to south-east ; and the dip about
one yard in nine. The stratum through which
the fresh water flowed is shown, and the level
it found, it is said, was' sixteen yards from the
surface, which, it is remarked, nearly corresponds
with that of the brook below. The line of sepa-
ration, between the lowest stratum of earth and
the first of rock-salt, is very exactly defined ;
they are perfectly distinct, and do not at all run
into each other. It is farther noticed that, in
carrying a horizontal tunnel for 100 yards along
the upper stratum of rock-salt, this was found to
be irregular and unequal on its surface ; the irre-
gularities in a great measure corresponding with
those on the surface of the ground above.
Considerable salt-works are carried on in Scot-
land, and in the northern counties of this country
on the sea-coast, by the evaporation of sea-water.
At Lymington, in Hampshire, the sea-water is
evaporated to one-sixth of the whole by the ac-
tion of the sun and air.
A Mr. Lowndes some time since published a
method of greatly improving the English brine-
salt, so as to make it at least equal to the French
bay-salt. His method is : let a brine-pan, con-
taining about 800 gallons of liquor, be filled with
brine to within an inch of the top ; then make
and light the fire, and, when the brine is just
luke-warm, put in either an ounce of blood from
the butcher's, or the whites of two eggs. Let
the pan boil with all possible violence, and as
the scum rises take it off. When the fresh or
watery part is pretty well decreased, throw into
the pan the third part of a pint of new ale, or the
same quantity of the grounds of any malt liquor.
When the brine begins to grain, add to it the
quantity of a small nut of fresh butter, and, when
the liquor has stood half an hour longer, draw
out the salt. By this time the fire will be greatly
abated, and so will the heat of the liquor; let no
more fuel be thrown on the fire, but let the brine
gently cool, till a person can just bear to put his
hand into it ; keep it in that degree of heat as
nearly as possible, and wnen it has worked for
some time, and is beginning to grain, throw in
the quantity of a small nutmeg of fresh butter,
fl
258
SALT.
and about two minutes aAer that scatter through-
out the pan, as equally as may be, an ounce and
three quarters of common alum, pulverised very
tine ; then instantly, with the common iron
scrape-pan, stir the brine very briskly in every
part of the pan for about a minute ; then let the
pan settle, and constantly feed the fire, so that
the brine may never be quite scalding hot, yet
always a great deal more than luke-warm ; let
the pan stand working thus for about three days
and nights, and then draw it, or take out the
salt. The brine remaining will, by this time, be
so cold that it will not work at all, therefore
fresh coals must be thrown upon the fire, and
the brine must boil for about half an hour, but
not near so violently as before the first drawing ;
then, with the usual instrument, take out such
salt as is beginning to fall, and put it apart ;
then let the pan settle and cool. \Vhen the brine
becomes no hotter than one can just put one's
hand into it, proceed as before, and let the
quantity of alum not exceed an ounce and a
quarter, and about eight-and-forty hours after
draw the pan, and take out all the salt.
Lowndes's Brine Salt improved.
Mr. Lowndes afterwards directs cinders to be
chiefly used in preparing the fires, the better to
preserve an equal heat, and by that means also
he proposes saving a considerable expense, as-
serting that at present cinders are so little valued
in Cheshire as to be thrown out into the high-
ways. Mr. Lowndes adds that, in a pan of the
size before-mentioned, there may be prepared,
at each process, 1600lbs. weight of salt from
the best brine in Cheshire, and 1066 Ibs. from
the ordinary brine of that county. This, as the
process continues five days, is a little more than
five bushels and a half of salt a day from the
best brine, and a little more than four bushels a
day from the ordinary kind.
The commerce of salt has formerly brought
an immense profit to France, or rather to the
royal treasury than to the makers and sellers,
on account of the heavy duty. The English and
Dutch, and (when they are at war with France)
the Swedes and Danes, have taken off most of
the salt of the Comic" Nantois ; paying for it, com-
muoibus annis, from twenty to thirty-five livres
the load. That of Guerande has been preferred,
by the English and Irish, to all the rest, as the
best. Yet that of Borneuf, though browner and
heavier, is most used in France, as also through-
out the Baltic ; particularly in Poland, where,
besides the ordinary uses, it serves in tilling the
ground ; being found to warm it, and prevent
little vermin from gnawing the grain. The Eng-
lish and Dutch have often striven hard, in times
of war, to do without the French salt; and to
that end have endeavoured to take salt from the
Spaniards and Portuguese ; but there is a dis-
agreeable sharpness and serosity natural to this
salt, which renders it very unfit for the salting of
flesh, fish, &c. To remove this they boil it with
sea-water, and a little French salt, which they
procure by means of neutral nations, which not
only softens it, but increases its quantity by one-
third. Hut it should seem their refinine; does
no» succeed to their wish, by the eagerness with
which they return to the salt of Bretagne, &c
The duties on salt in this country are now
wholly insignificant.
SALT, in chemistry. This term has been
usually employed to denote a compound, in
definite proportions, of any acid, with an alkali,
earth, or metallic oxide. When the proportions
of the constituents are so adjusted that the
resulting substance does not affect the color of
infusion of litmus, or red cabbage, it is then
called a neutral salt. When the predominance
of acid is evinced by the reddening of these in-
fusions the salt is said to be acidulous, and the
prefix super, or bi, is used to indicate this excess
of acid. If, on the contrary, the acid appears to
be less than is necessary for neutralising the alkali-
nity of the base, the salt is then said to be with
excess of base, and the prefix sub is attached
to its name. See CHEMISTRY, and the various
acids and metals in the alphabetical arrangement.
SALT, ARSENICAL, NEUTRAL OF MACQUER.
Superarseniate of potash.
SALT, BITTER, CATHARTIC. Sulphate of
magnesia.
SALT, COMMON. Muriate of soda.
SALT, DIGESTIVE, OF SYLVIUS. Acetate of
potash.
SALT, DIURETIC. Acetate of potash.
SALT, EPSOM. Sulphate of magnesia.
SALT, FEBRIFUGE, OF SYLVIUS. Muriate of
potash.
SALT, FUSIBLE. Phosphate of ammonia.
SALT, FUSIBLE, OF URINE. Triple phosphate
of soda and ammonia.
SALT, GLAUBER'S. Sulphate of soda.
SALT, MARINE. Muriate of soda.
SALT, MARINE, ARGILLACEOUS. Muriate of
alumina.
SALT, MICROCOSMIC. Triple phosphate of
soda and ammonia.
SALT, NITROUS, AMMONIACAL. Nitrate of
ammonia.
SALT OF AMBER. Succinic acid.
SALT OF BENZOIN. Benzoic acid.
SALT OF CANAL. Sulphate of magnesia.
SALT OF COLCOTHAR. Sulphate of iron.
SALT OF EGKA. Sulphate of magnesia.
SALT OF LEMONS, ESSENTIAL. Superoxalate
of potash.
SALT OF SATURN. Acetate of lead.
SALT OF SEDLITZ. Sulphate of magnesia.
SALT OF SEIGNETTE. Triple tartrate of pot-
ash and soda.
SALT OF SODA. Subcarbonate of soda.
SALT OF SORREL. Superoxalate of potash.
SALT OF TARTAR. Subcarbonate of potash.
SALT OF VITRIOL. Purified sulphate of zinc.
SALT, PERLATE. Phosphate of soda.
• SALT, POLYCHREST, OF GLASER. Sulphate of
potash.
SALT, SEDATIVE. Boracic acid.
SALT, SPIRIT OF. Muriatic acid was formerly
called by this name, which it still retains in
commerce.
SALT, SULPHUREOUS, OF STAHL. Sulphate of
potash.
SALT, WONDERFUL PERLATE. Phosphate of
soda.
SALT MINES. The salt mines of Vielicza,
near Cracow. Poland, are very extraordinary
SAL
259
SAL
caverns. Wraxall describes them thus, in his
Memoirs of the Courts of Berlin, Dresden, War-
saw, Vienna : — ' After being let down,' says he,
* by a rope to the depth of 230 feet, our con-
ductors led us through galleries which, for lofti-
ness and breadth, seemed rather to resemble the
avenues to some subterranean palace than pas-
sages cut in a mine. They were perfectly dry
in every part, and terminated in two chapels,
composed entirely of salt, hewn out of the solid
mass. The images which adorn the altars, as
well as the pillars and ornaments, were all of
the same transparent materials ; the points and
spars of which, reflecting the rays of light from
the lamps which the guides held in their hands,
produced an effect eo^ially novel and beautiful.
Descending lower into the earih, by means of
ladders, I found myself in an immense hall or
cavern of salt, many hundred feet in height,
length, and dimensions, the floor and sides of
which were cut with exact regularity ; 1000 per-
sons might dine in it without inconvenience,
and the eye in vain attempted to trace or define
its limits. Nothing could be more sublime than
this vast subterranean apartment, illuminated by
flambeaux, which faintly discover its prodigious
magnitude, and leave the imagination at liberty
to enlarge it indefinitely. After remaining about
two hours and a half under ground, I was drawn
up again in three minutes with the greatest facility.'
SALTA, or SAN MIGUEL DE SALTA, a city
and district of Tucuman, South America, was
founded in 1682, under the name of San Clemente
de la Nueva Sevilla, but was afterwards changed
to its present site in the beautiful valley of Lerma.
Its environs are very fertile, abounding in wheat,
rye, and vines, with pastures for the cattle ex-
ported from this place to Peru ; and its commerce
consists in corn, meal, wine, cattle, salt meat, fat,
hides, and other commodities, which are sent to
all parts of Peru. It is computed that the num-
ber of mules fattened in the valley of Lerma
amount, during the months of February and
March, when the annual lair is held, to 60,000 ;
and, besides these, there are generally 4000
horses and cows. The natives are subject to a
species of leprosy, and nearly all the women,
after they have attained the age of twenty, have
the goitrous swelling in the throat, which dis-
figures them very much. It is fifty miles south
of Jujui ; and the river which washes the town
turns east, and enters the Vermeijo.
SALTASH, a post and market town of Corn-
wall, seated on the side of a sleep hill, on the
banks of the Tamar; it has three streets, which,
from the declivity, are washed clean by every
shower of rain that falls. It possesses many
privileges, and has jurisdiction on the Tamar,
to the mouth of the port, claiming anchorage
dues of all vessels that enter the harbour ; and
their coroner sits upon all bodies found drowned
in the river. Saltash sent two members to
parliament ever since the reign of Edward VI.,
who were elected by the mayor, recorder, &c.,
but was disfranchised in 1832. It has a. market
on Saturday, and sufficient depth of water in its
harbour for lar^e vessels. It lies six miles
north-west of Plymouth, and 220 W. S. W. of
London.
SALTATION, r,. s. Lat. saltatio. The act
of dancing ; jumping : beat ; palpitation.
The locusts being ordained for saltation, their
hinder legs do far exceed the others.
BKNBW'J Vultjar Errours.
If the great artery be hurt, you will discover it
by its saltation and florid colour.
Wiseman's Surgery.
SALTCOATS, a sea-port town of Ayrshire,
five miles north-west of Irvine. It has an excel-
lent harbour, capable of admitting vessels of 220
tons. In 1700 it became the property of Sir
Robert Cunningham, who began to work the
valuable strata of coals in the neighbourhood,
and built a harbour at Saltcoats to export them.
He also erected several large pans for the manu-
facture of salt ; which proved so successful that
there is now made above 3000 bolls annually.
Ship-building was also commenced and carried
on with success. Notwithstanding the popula-
tion and prosperity of this town it has neither
magistrates, nor police, nor even a weekly mar-
ket, but only one annual fair. A bailiff levies
the dues of anchorage, and executes such regula-
tions as are necessary for loading the vessels,
sailing, &c., and the masters or owners of these
vessels enter into a written obligation to observe
these regulations. Saltcoats lies ten miles north-
west of Ayr, and twenty-two south-west of Glas-
gow.
SALTEU (John), an English officer, born in
1709, who by his merit rose from the ranks to
be a major-general, and lieutenant-colenol, of the
first regiment of foot. The duke of Cumberland,
then in the guards, first noticed him, made him
serjeant in his own company, and some time
after gave him a commission, and patronised
him publicly in presence of all the other officers.
He died in 1787, aged seventy-eight.
SALTER (Samuel), D.D., a learned English
divine, born at Norwich, and educated at the
Charter House. He was admitted of Benet
College; Cambridge, in 1730, where he obtained
the degree of B.A. and a fellowship. He be-
came soon after preceptor to the sons of Sir Phi-
lip Yorke, chief justice of the king's bench, who
also made him his chaplain, a prebendary of
Gloucester, and rector of Burton Goggles, in
1 740, where he married Miss Seeker, a relation
of the bishop of Oxford. In 1750 he was made
minister of Great Yarmouth ; in 1751 archbishop
Herring created him D.D.; in 1756 the lord
chancellor made him rector of St. Bartholomew ;
and, in 1761, master of the Charter House. He
published Pindaric Odes, in Greek, on the nup-
tials of the Princes of Wales and Orange ; Latin
Verses on the Death of Queen Caroline ; and
Sermons, Tracts, &c. He died May 2, 1 778.
SALTFLEET, a sea-port town of Lincoln-
shire, with a market on Saturday ; seven miles
south of the mouth of the Humber, thirty-three
north-east of Lincoln, and 158 north of London.
SALTIER, n. s. FT. saultiere. A term of
heraldry,
A saltier is in the form of a St. Andrew's cross,
and by some is taken to be an engine to take wild
beasts ; in French it is called un sautoir : it is an
honourable bearing. Peacham.
SALTIER. See HERALDRY. This, says G
S2
SAL
260
SAL
Leigh, in his Accidence of Arms, was anciently
made of tin; height of a man, and driven full of
pins, the use of which was to scale walls, &c.
Upton derives this word from saltus, i. e. a forest.
The French call this ordinary sautoir, from sauter,
to leap ; perhaps because it may have been used
by soldiers to leap over walls of towns, which in
former times were low; but some think it is
borne in imitation of St. Andrew's cross.
SALTINBANCO, n. s. Lat. saltare. in banco,
to climb as a mountebank mounts a bank or
bench. A quack or mountebank.
Siiltinbuncoet, quacksalvers, and charlatans, deceive
them : were /Esop alive, the Piazza and Pont-neuf
could not speak their fallacies.
Browne's Vulgar Errtmrs.
He played the sallinbanco's part,
Transformed to a Frenchman by my art. Hudibras.
SALTPETRE. See GUNPOWDER and CHE-
MISTRY.
SALV'ABLE, adj. ~\ Lat. salvo. Possible
SALVABIL'ITY, n. s.f to be saved; the noun
SAL'VAGE, > substantive correspond-
SALVA'TION, \ing: salvage is a legal
SAL'VATORY. ) claim for assisting a
wrecked vessel: salvation, preservation from
eternal death : the act of saving.
As life and death, mercy and wrath, are matters
of understanding or knowledge, all men's tahwtion,
and all men's endless perdition, are things so oppo-
site, that whosoever doth affirm the one must neces-
sarily deny the other. Hooker.
Why do we Christians so fiercely argue against the
salwibility of each other, xs if it were our wish that
all should be damned, but those of our particular
sect ? Decay of Piety .
Our wild fancies about God's decrees have in
event reprobated more than those decrees, and have
bid fair to the damning of many whom those left
tollable. Id.
Him the most High,
Wrapped in a balmy cloud with winged steeds,
Did, as them saw'st, receive ; to walk with Ood
High in talvation, and the climes of bliss,
Exempt from death. Milton't Paradise Lost.
I consider the admirable powers of sensation,
phantasy, and memory, in what talvatoriet or reposi-
tories the species of things past are conserved.
Hole's Origin of Mankind.
SALVADOR (Si), the city of San Salvador,
the chief place of the province, and the second
of Brasil, is built on a rocky eminence 600 feet
nigh, on the east shore of All Saints' bay,, a
league within Cape Salvador, the east point of
the entrance. The streets, though wide, are so
steep as generally to preclude the use of car-
riages. The number of private houses is about
2000, mostly of stone, and massively built. The
religious buildings are of course numerous and
rich, particularly the cathedral, dedicated to San
Salvador. The population has been estimated at
30,000 whites, and 70,000 Indians and negroes.
The natural strength of the position is aided by
strong fortifications, and the garrison usually con-
sists of 5000 regular troops, besides a large
white and black militia. Many ships of war and
merchant vessels are built here. The buildings
are chiefly of the seventeenth century, ill con-
structed, and, from the slightness of the materials,
rapidly decaying, which diminishes the effect of
many of them once sumptuous. The town is
divided into high and low, the latter consisting
of streets filled with store houses on the shores
of the bay, for the convenience of loading and
unloading.
SALVADOR (St.), the name given by the Portu-
guese missionaries to the capital of the kingdom
of Congo, in Western Africa. We have no ac--
count of it, except theirs, which is somewhat
antiquated. They describe it as built at the top
of a rocky and steep hill, in a plain about ten
miles in circumference. The king's palace con-
sists of a vast enclosure, about a league in cir-
cuit. The Portuguese had a quarter assigned to
them, they tell us, which they built partly of
stone and enclosed. They had erected a church,
and invested one of their number with the title
of bishop. The late British expedition, though
they found no Portuguese on any part of the
Zaire, were yet informed that a few still re-
mained in this capital.
SALVADOR (St.), a district of Guatimala, in
South America, which produces in great abund-
ance sugar-cane and indigo.
SALVADOR (St.), the capital of the above pro-
vince, situated on the banks of a river, at the
distance of twelve miles from the Pacific. It
has a little trade, and is the residence of a go-
vernor. Population about 5000 Indians, whites,
and castes. 140 miles E. S. E. of Guatimala.
SALVADOR (St.), one of the Bahama Islands,
discovered by Columbus in 1492. It is also
known by the name of Cat Island, and, except
at the south extremity, is very narrow. The
population in 1797 amounted, including whites,
to 657, and in 1803, the era of patented estates
granted by the crown for cultivation, to 28,903.
SALVADORA, in botany, a genus of the mo-
nogynia order, and tetrandria class of plants :
CAL. quadrifid : COR. none : KERRY monosper-
mous ; species one only, a Persian shrub ; the
seed covered with an antlus or loose coat.
SAL'VAGE, adj. Fr. saulvage ; Ital. sd-
vaggio, from Lat. silva. Wild ; rude ; cruel.
Now spoken and written SAVAGE, which see
May the Essexian plains
Prove as a desert, and none there make stay
But tabage beasts, or men as wild as they. Waller.
A savage race inured to blood. Dryden.
SALVAGE MONEY, a reward allowed by the
civil and statute law for the saving of ships or
goods from the danger of the sea, pirates or ene-
mies— Where any ship is in danger of being
stranded or driven on shore, justices of peace
are to command the constables to assemble as
many persons as are necessary to preserve it ;
and, on its being preserved by their means, the
persons assisting therein shall, in thirty days
after, be paid a reasonable reward for their sal-
vage ; otherwise the ship or goods shall remain
in the custody of the officers of the customs, as
a security for the same. And in case the said
officer of the customs, and the owners, &c., of
the ship shall be unable to agree concerning the
sum to be paid as salvage, they shall have powet
to nominate three neighbouring justices, who
shall adjust the quantum of the gratuity to be
paid to the several persons acting in the salvage
of the ship or goods ; and such adjustment
shall be binding on all parties, and shall be re-
SAL
261
SAL
coverable in an action at law to be brought by
the respective persons to whom the same shall
be allotted by the justices. And, in case no per-
son shall appear to make his claim to all or any
of the goods saved, then the chief officer of the
customs of the nearest port shall apply to three
of the nearest justices, who shall put him or some
responsible person in possession of such goods,
such justices taking an account thereof in writ-
ing, to be signed by such officers of the customs ;
and if the goods shall not be legally claimed
within twelve months, by the right owners, they
shall be publicly sold, or, if perishable, forth-
with sold, and the produce of the sale, after all
charges deducted, with a fair account of the
whole, shall be transmitted to the exchequer,
there to remain for the benefit of the owner,
when appearing ; who, upon affidavit, or other
proof of his right, to the satisfaction of one of
the bjtrons of the coif, shall, upon his order, re-
ceive the same out of the exchequer.
SALVAGES, a group of uninhabited islands,
or rather rocks, off the coast of Africa, immedi-
ately north of the Canaries.
SALU'BRIOUS, adj. \ Latin salubris.
SALU'BRITY, n. s. $ Wholesome ; health-
ful ; promoting health ; wholesomeness.
The warm limbeck draws
Salubrioui waters from the nocent brood. Philipi.
SALVE, n. s. & v. a. \ Originally and pro"
SA'LVER, £ perly sulf, which hav"
SAL'VO. ) ing salves in the
plural, the singular in time was borrowed from it.
Sax. rea'F > -Lat- salviis, salvo. A glutinous
matter applied to wounds and hurts ; a plaster ;
help; remedy: to cure by medicaments; help
by a salvo ; salute (obsolete) : a salver is a dish
to save what is left : salvo, an exception, reser-
vation, or excuse.
Some seek to salve their blotted name
With others blot, 'till all do taste of shame. Sidney.
Our mother tongue, which truly of itself is both
full enough for prose, and stately enough for verse,
hath long time been counted most bare and barren of
both ; which default, when as some endeavoured to
salve and cure, they patched up the holes with rags
from other languages. Spenser.
That stranger knight in presence came,
And goodly salved them ; who mought again
Him answered as courtesy became. Faerie Queene.
Many skilful leeches him abide,
To salve his hurts. Id.
Ignorant I am not how this is salved : they do it
but after the truth is made manifest. Hooker.
Let us hence, my sovereign to provide
A talre for any sore that may betide.
Shakspeare. Henry VI.
My more particular,
And that which most with you should salve my
?oing.
Is Fulvia's death. Id. Antony and Cleopatra.
The schoolmen were like the astronomers, who, to
talre phenomena, framed to their concek eccentricks
and epicycles ; so they, to stilve the practice of the
church, had devised a great number of strange posi-
tions. Bacon.
Sleep is pain's easiest salve, and doth fulfil
All offices of death except to kill. Donne.
I hey admit many *«/>v>s, cautions, and reservations,
so as (hey cross not the chief design. King Charlis.
Go study salve and treacle : ply
Your tenant's leg, or his sore eye. Cleaveland.
If they shall excommunicate me, hath the doc*
trine of meekness any salve for me then ?
Hammond*
The royal sword thus drawn has cured a wouud,
For which no other salve could have been found.
Waller.
Though most were sorely wounded, none were
slain ;
The surgeons soon despoiled them of their arms,
And some with salves they cure. Dryden.
It will be hard if he cannot bring himself off at last
with some salvo or distinction, and be his own con-
fessor. L'Estrange.
He has printed them in such a portable volume
that many of them may be ranged together on a
single plate; and is of opinion that a salver of
spectators would be as acceptable an entertain-
ment for the ladies, as a saiver of sweetmeats.
Additon.
If others of a more serious turn join with us deli-
berately in their religious professions of loyalty,
with any private salvoes or evasions, they would do
well to consider those maxims in which all casuists
are agreed. Id.
There must be another state to make up the ine-
qualities of this, and salve all irregular appearances.
Atterbury.
Between each act the trembling salver ring,
From soup to sweet wine. Pope.
Tills conduct might give Horace the hint to say,
that, when Homer was at a loss to bring any difficult
matter to an issue, he laid his hero asleep, and this
sak-ed all difficulty. Broome.
SALVE REGINA, among the Romanists, the
name of a Latin prayer, addressed to the Virgin.
It was composed by Peter, bishop of Compos-
tella. The custom of singing it at the close of
the office was begun by order of St. Dominic,
in the congregation of Dominicans at Bologna,
about 1237. Gregory IX. first appointed it to
be general. St. Bernard added the conclusion,
O dulcis ! O pia, &c.
SALVI (John), an eminent Italian historical
painter, born near Urbino in 1504. He excelled
chiefly in copying the works of the great masters,
which he did with surprising accuracy. He died
in 1590.
SALVIA, sage, a genus of the monogynia
order, and digynia class of plants ; natural order
forty-second, verticillatse : COR. unequal ; fila-
ments placed crosswise on a pedicle. The most
remarkable species are these : —
1. S. auriculata, common sage ot virtue, is
well known in the gardens and markets. The
leaves are narrower than those of the common
sort ; they are hoary, and some of them are in-
dented on their edges towards the base, which
indentures have the appearance of ears. The
spikes of flowers are longer than those of either
the second or fourth species, and the whorls are
t:enerally naked, having no leaves between them.
The flowers are smaller, and of a deeper blue
than those of common red sage.
2. S. officinalis, the common large sage, which
is cultivated in gardens, of which there are the
following varieties : — 1. The common green sage.
2. The wormwood sage. 3. The green sage with
a variegated leaf. 4. The red sage. 5. The red-
sage \\nh a variegated leaf. These are accidental
SAL
262
SAL
variations, and therefore are not enumerated as
species. The common sage grows naturally in
the southern parts of Europe, but it is here cul-
tivated in gardens for use ; that variety with red
or blackish leaves is the most common in the
British gardens ; and the wormwood sage is in
greater plenty here than the common green-leaved
sage, which is not common in gardens.
3. S. pomifera, with spear-shaped oval entire
leaves, grows naturally in Crete. It has a
shpubby stalk, which rises four or five feet high,
dividing into several branches. The flowers
grow in spikes at the end of the branches ; they
are of a pale blue color, and have obtuse em-
palements. The branches have often punctures
made in them by insects, at which places grow
large protuberances as big as apples, in the same
manner as the galls upon an oak, and the rough
balls on the briar.
4. S. tomentosa, generally called balsamic
sage by the gardener. The stalks do not grow
so upright as those of the common sage ; they
are very hairy, and divide into several branches,
garnished with broad heart-shaped woolly leaves
standing upon long foot-stalks ; they are sawed
on their edges, and their upper surfaces are
rough ; the leaves which are upon the flower-
stalks are oblong and oval, standing upon shorter
foot-stalks, and are very slightly dentated on their
edges ; they grow in whorled spikes toward the
top of the branches ; the whorls are pretty far
distant, but few flowers in each ; they are of a
pale blue, about the size of those of the common
sort. This sage is preferred to all the others for
making sage tea. All the sorts of sage may be
propagated by seeds, if they can be procured ;
but as some of them do not perfect their seeds
in this country, and most of the sorts, especially
the common kinds for use, are easily propagated
by slips, it is not worth while to raise them from
seeds.
SALVIANS, or SALVIANUS, an ancient father
of the Christian church, who flourished about
A. D. 440, and was well skilled in the sciences.
Some say he was a Gaul ; others a German. He
resided long at Triers, and was called the Jere-
miah of the fifth century. He acquired such
reputation for his piety and learning that he was
named the master of the bishops. He wrote A
Treatise on Providence ; another on the Avarice
of the Clergy ; and nine epistles, of which Ba-
luze has given an excellent edition ; that of Con-
rad Rittershusius, in 2 vols. 8vo., is also esteemed.
SALVIATI (Francis), an eminent painter,
born in Florence, 1510. His manner of design-
ing approached very near that of Raphael ; and
he worked in distemper, fresco, and oil. His
naked figures are peculiarly graceful, as well as
those in drapery. He died in 1563.
SALVIATI (Joseph), an eminent painter and
mathematician, born in Venice in 1535. His
original name was Porta. He was often employed
in conjunction with Paul Veronese and Tintoret.
His skill was equally great in designing and color-
ing ; and he wrote several useful Treatises on
.Mathematics. He died in 1585. Both these
painters took the name of Salviati from a cardi-
Cfll, who patronised them greatly.
SAl.VINI (Antonio Marie), a learned Italian,
who became professor of Greek at Florence.
He translated Homer's Iliad and Odyssey ; with
the poems of Hesiod, Theocritus, Anacreon, and
many of the minor Greek poets, into Italian
verse. He was a member of the academy de la
Crusca, and assisted in the compilation of their
Dictionary, in 6 vols. He died in Florence in
1729.
SALUS, in the Roman mythology, the god-
dess of health, and the daughter of JEsculapius,
called Hygiaea by the Greeks. We find her name
on many medals of the Roman emperors, with
different inscriptions ; as, SALUS PUBLICA, SALUS
REIPUBLlCjE, SALUS AUGUSTI, &C.
SALUSTE (William de), Du Bartas, a French
poet, who lived ia the sixteenth century. He
was employed by Henry IV. of France in Eng-
land, Denmark, and Scotland ; and commanded
a troop of horse in Gascony, under marechal de
Martignan. He was a Calvinist, and died in
1590, aged forty-six. He wrote a great number
of poems ; the most famous are, 1 . The Week,
or the Creation of the World, in seven books.
2. The Poem of Judith : and, 3. The Battle of
Ivry, gained by Henry IV. in 1590. He wrote
in a bombastic style.
SALUTARY, o$ ) Fr. salutaire; Lat.
SAL'UTARINESS, n. s. $ salutaris. Wholesome;
healthful ; safe ; contributing to health or safety :
the noun substantive corresponding.
The gardens, yards, and avenues are dry and clean ;
and so more salutary as more elegant. Ray.
It was want of faith in our Saviour's countrymen,
which hindered him from shedding among them the
salutary emanations of his divine virtue ; and he did
not many mighty works there, because of their un-
belief. Bentley.
SALUTATION, n. s. ^ Fr. salutation •
SALUTE', v. a. & n. s. £ Lat. salutatio. The
SALU'TER. j act or style of salu-
ting ; greeting : to greet ; kiss : a kiss : one who
salutes.
The early village cock
Hath twice done salutation to the morn.
Shakfpeare*
One hour hence
Shall salute your grace of York as mother. Id.
Would I had no being,
If this salute iny blood a jot : it faints me,
To think what follows. Id. Henry VIII.
In all publick meetings, or private addresses, use
those forms of salutation, reverence, and decency,
used amongst the most sober persons.
Taylor's Rule of Holy Living.
On her the angel haii
Bestowed, the holy salutation used
To blest Mary. Milton.
O, what avails me now that honour high
To have conceived of God, or that salute,
Hail highly favoured, among women blest! Id.
The custom of praying for those that sneeze is
more ancient than these opinions hereof ; so that
not any one disease has been the occasion of this
salute and deprecation. linnune.
There cold salutes, but here a lover's kiss.
lioscommon.
Court and state he wisely shuns ;
Nor bribed to servile lalvtatiem runs. Dryden.
Continual salutes and addresses entertaining hwr
all the way, kept him from saving so great a lile, bu
SAL
263
SAL
with one glance of his eye upon the paper, till he
came to the fatal place where he was stabbed.
South.
I shall not trouble my reader with the first salutes
of our three friends. Addifon.
SALUTATION, VARIOUS MODES OF. Modes of
salutation have, in different countries, very dif-
ferent characters, and it is not uninteresting to
examine .their shades. Many display a refine-
ment of delicacy ; others are remarkable for their
simplicity, or sensibility. The islanders, near
the Philippines, take the hand or foot of him
they salute, and with it they gently rub their
face. The Laplanders apply their nose strongly
against that of the persons they salute. Dampier
says that, at New Guinea, they are satisfied in
placing on their heads the leaves of trees, which
have ever passed for symbols of friendship and
peace. Other salutations are very incommodious;
it requires great practice to enable a man to be
polite in an island in the Straits of the Sound.
Boatman tells us, 'They raised his left foot, which
they passed gently over the right leg, and thence
over his face.' The inhabitants of the Philip-
pines bend their body very low, in placing their
hands on their cheeks, and raising at the same
time one foot in the air, with their knee bent.
An Ethiopian takes the robe of another, and ties
it about his own waist, so that he leaves his
friend half naked. Sometimes men place them-
selves naked before the person whom they salute,
to show their humility, and that they are un-
worthy of a covering in his presence. This was
practised befoie Sir Joseph Banks, when he re-
ceived the visit of two Otaheitan ladies. Some-
times they only undress partially. The Japanese
only take off a slipper ; the people of Arracan
their sandals in the street, and their stockings in
the house. The grandees ,of Spain claim the
right of appearing covered before the king to
show that they are not so much subjected to him
as the rest of the nation. When two negro mo-
narehs visit they embrace in snapping three times
the middle finger. When the inhabitants of Car-
mena, says Athenaeus, would show a peculiar
mark cf esteem, they opened a vein, and pre-
sented "or the beverage of their friend, the blood
as it issued. The Franks tore hair from their
head, and presented it to the person whom they
saluted The slave cut his hair, and offered it
to his -naster. The Chinese are singularly par-
ticular in their personal civilities ; they even
calculate the number of their reverences. The
men trove their hands in an affectionate manner,
while iliey are joined together on their breast,
and bow their head a little. If two persons
meet ai'.er a long separation, they both fall on
their knees and bend their faces to the earth, and
this they repeat two or three times. If a Chi-
nese is a:ked how he finds himself in health ? he
answers, Very well : thanks to your abundant
felicity. If they would tell a man that he looks
well, thej say, Prosperity is painted on your
face ; or, Your air announces your happiness.
All these ind many other answers are prescribed
by the Chiiese academy of compliments. There
arc determned the number of bows, the expres-
sions to beemployed, the genuflections, and the
inclinations to 'be made to 'the right or left hand,
the salutations of the master before the chair
where the stranger is to be seated ; for he salutes
it most profoundly, and wipes the dust away
with the skirts of his robe. The lower class of
people are equally nice in these punctilios ; and
ambassadors pass forty days in practising them
before they can appear at court. The marks of
honor are frequently arbitrary ; to be seated,
with us, is a mark of repose and familiarity; to
stand up, that of respect. There are countries,
however, in which princes will only be addressed
by persons who are seated, and it is considered
as a favor to be permitted to stand in their pre-
sence. This custom prevails in despotic coun-
tries : a despot cannot suffer without disgust the
elevated figure of his subjects ; he is pleased to-
bend their bodies with their genius : his presence
must lay those who behold him prostrate on the
earth : he desires no eagerness, no attention ; he
would only inspire terror.
SALUTE, in military matters, a discharge of
artillery or small arms, or both, in honor of some
person of extraordinary quality. The colors
likewise salute royal persons, and generals com-
manding in chief; which is done by lowering
the point to the ground. In the field, when a
regiment is to be reviewed by the king or his
general, the drums beat a march as he passes
along the line, and the officers salute one after
another, bowing their half-pikes or swords to the
ground ; then recover and take off their hats.
The ensigns salute all together by lowering their
colors. In the navy this ceremony is variously
performed, according to the circumstances, rank,
or situation of the parties. It consists in firing a
certain number of cannon, or volleys of small
arms; in striking the colors or topsails; or in
one or more general shouts of the whole ship's
crew, mounted on mr«>ts or rigging for that pur-
pose. The principal regulations with regard to
salutes in the royal navy are as follows : — When
a flag-officer salutes the admiral and commander
in chief of the fleet he is to give him fifteen
guns ; but when captains salute him they are to
give him seventeen guns. The admiral and com-
mander-in-chief of the fleet is to return two guns
less to flag-officers, and four less to captains.
Flag-officers saluting their superior or senior offi-
cer are to give him thirteen guns. Flag-officers
are to return an equal number of guns to flag-
officers bearing their flags on the same mast, and
two guns less to the rest, as also to the captains.
When a captain salutes an admiral of the white
or blue he is to give him fifteen guns ; but to
vice or rear-admirals thirteen guns. When a
flag-officer is saluted by two or more of his ma-
jesty's ships he is not to return the salute till all
have finished, and then to do it with such a rea-
sonable number of guns as he shall judge proper.
In case of the meeting of two squadrons, the two
chiefs only are to exchange salutes. And, if
single ships meet a squadron consisting of more
than one flag, the principal flag only is to be
saluted. No salutes shall be repeated by the
same ships unless there has been a separation of
six months at least. None of his majesty's ships
of war, commanded only by captains, shall give
or receive salutes from one another, in whatsoever
part of the world they meet. A flag-officer com-
SAL
264
SAM
niandmg ID chief shall be saluted, upon his first
Hoisting his flag, by all the ships present, with
such a number of guns as is allowed by the first,
third, or fifth articles. When any of his ma-
jesty's ships meet with any ship or ships belong-
ing to any foreign prince or state, within his
majesty's seas (which extend to Cape Fir.isterre),
it is expected that the said foreign ships do
strike their topsail, and take in their flag, in ac-
knowledgment of his majesty's sovereignty in
those seas : and if any shall refuse, or offer to
resist, it is enjoined to all flag-officers and com-
manders to use their utmost endeavours to com-
pel them thereto, and not suffer any dishonor to
be done to his majesty. And if any of his ma-
jesty's subjects shall so much forget their duty
as to omit striking their topsail in passing by his
majesty's ships, the name of the ship and master,
and whence and whither bound, together with
affidavits of the fact, are to be sent up to the
see-etary of the admiralty, in order to their being
proceeded against in the admiralty court. And
it is to be observed that, in his majesty's seas, his
majesty's ships are in nowise to strike to any ;
and that in other parts no ship of his majesty is
to strike her flag or topsail to any foreigner, un-
less such foreign ship shall have first struck, or
at the same time struck, her flag or topsail to his
majesty's ship. The flag-officers and commanders
of his majesty's ships are to be careful to main-
tain his majesty's honor upon all occasions,
giving protection to his subjects, and endeavour-
ing, what in them lies, to secure and encourage
them in their lawful commerce ; and they are
not to injure, in any manner, the subjects of his
majesty's friends and allies. If a foreign admiral
meets with any of his majesty's ships, and salutes
them, he shall receive gun for gun. If he a
be a vice-admiral, the admiral shall answer with
two guns less ; if a rear-admiral, the admiral
and vice-admiral shall return two less. But if
the ship be commanded by a captain only, the
flag-officer shall give two guns less, and captains
an equal number. When any of his majesty's
ships come to an anchor in any foreign port or
road, within cannon-shot of its forts, the captain
may salute the place with such a number of guns
as has been customary, upon good assurance
of having the like number returned, but not
otherwise. But if the ship bear a flag, the flag-
officer shall first carefully inform himself how
ft us of the like rank, belonging to other crowned
heads, have given or returned salutes, and to in-
sist upon the same terms of respect. It is
allowed to the commanders of his majesty's ships
in foreign parts to salute the persons of any ad-
mirals, commanders-in-chief, or captains of ships
of war of foreign nations, and foreign noblemen,
or strangers of rank, coming on board to visit
the ship ; and the number of guns is left to the
commander, as shall be suitable to the occasion
and quality of the person visiting ; but he is
nevertheless to remain accountable for any ex-
cesses in the abuse of this liberty. If the ship
visited be in company with other ships of war,
the captain is not to make use of the civilities
allowed in the preceding articles but with leave
iind consent of the commander-in-chief or the
vcinor captain. Merchant ships, whether foreign-
ers or belonging to his majesty's subjects,
the admiral of the fleet, shall be answered by six
guns less ; when they salute any other flag-ships,
they shall be answered by four guns less ; and,
if they salute men of war commanded by cap
tains, they shall be answered by two guns less.
If several merchant ships salute in company, no
return is to be made till all have finished, and
then by such a number of guns as shall be
thought proper ; but, though the merchant-ships
should answer, there shall be no second return.
None of his majesty's ships of war shall salute
any of his majesty's forts or castles in Great Bri-
tain or Ireland on any pretence whatsoever.
SALUZZO, a district of Piedmont, forming
part of the continental states of the king of Sar-
dinia, and bounded by the county of Nice, the
valley of Lucerne, and the frontier of France,
extending along the province of Dauphiny. It
has a superficial extent of 750 square miles,
mountainous and rugged ; but, from warmth ol
climate, its soil is in many parts fertile, produc-
ing corn, hemp, fruit, wine, and silk. It is
commonly called the marquisate of Saluzzo. Po-
pulation 126,000.
SALUZZO, a town of the Sardinian states, in the
north-west of Italy, the capital of the above dis-
trict, situated at the foot of the Alps, not far
from the source of the Po. Including its sub-
urbs, it has above 10,000 inhabitants. It is to»
lerably well built, and contains a cathedral and
several churches worth notice. The silk manu-
factures are extensive. It is the see of a bishop,
and stands on an eminence. Twenty-eight miles
south of Turin.
SALZBURG, a province and city in the west
of Austria, lying between Styria, Tyrol, and
Bavaria. Its area, since the cession of Berch-
tolsgaden to Bavaria, is about 2800 square miles,
and its population 142,000. It consists partly
of a great valley, with the Salza flowing along
the middle, and partly of a track of mountains
and defiles. The ground is highest in tlie south,
where it forms part of the None Alps. The cli-
mate of this mountainous region is much more
severe than might be expected in 46° 55' and 47°
58' N. lai. Even in the neighbourhood of Salz-
burg, the hills, which are here much inferior to
those of the south, are covered with snov before
October. In the south the winter lasts, with lit-
tle intermission, from the beginning of Novem-
ber to April, and showers and frosts folow till
about the end of June. The Sirocco, 10 well
known in the Mediterranean, then passes along
these valleys from Italy, and, though much cooled
in this mountain track, has not eTen herf lost its
power, though it seldom lasts above a diy.
SAMANAP, a large town on the s«uth-east
coast of the island of Madura. It is sitiated on
a fine bay, which, though rather shalbw, will
admit of large brigs or prows, lying cbse up to
the town. This place carries on an extensive
commerce ; and the country abounds in rice,
and teak timber. Here the Dutch used to build
their largest ships for the country trade.
SAMANEANS, an ancient philoscphical sect
of India, mentioned by Greek writes, who de-
voted themselves entirely to the study of divine
nis lorn, and gave up all private property, coin-
SAM
265
SAM
milting the care of their families to the State.
Their Society was supported at the public ex-
pense. They were a kind of magi, and have
been confounded by some with the Brahmins.
They proceeded from Ariana, a province of Per-
sia, and the neighbouring countries, spread them-
selves in India, and taught new doctrines. The
Brahmins, before their arrival, were in the highest
period of their glory, were the only oracles of In-
dia, and their principal residence was on the
banks of the Ganges, and in the adjacent moun-
tains ; while the Samaneans were settled towards
the Indus. Others say that the Brahmins ac-
quired all their knowledge from the Samaneans.
The most celebrated and ancient of the Samanean
doctors was Boutta, or Buddah, who was born
A. A.C. 683. His scholars paid him divine ho-
nors ; and his doctrine, which consisted chiefly
in the transmigration of souls, and in the rever-
ence of cows, was adopted not only in India,
but also in Japan, China, Siam, and Tartary.
It was propagated, according to M. de Saint
Croix, in Thibet, in the eighth century, and suc-
ceeded there the ancient religion of Zamolxis.
The Samaneans, or Buddists, were entirely de-
stroyed in India by the jealous rage of the
Brahmins, whose absurd practices and fables they
affected to treat with contempt; but several of
their books afe still preserved and respected on
the coasts of Malabar. Several of the Brahmin
orders have also adopted their manner of living,
and openly profess the greatest part of their doc-
trines.
SAMAR, one of the Philippines, situated
south-east from the large island of Luzon, from
which it is separated by a strait about five
leagues in breadth. In length it may be esti-
mated at 140 miles, by sixty the average breadth.
In this island the soil is extremely fertile, easily
cultivated, and rewards the industry of the la-
borer with at least forty-fold.
SAMARA, in botany, a genus of the mono-
gynia order, and tetrandria class of plants : CAL.
quadripartite : COR. tetrapetalous : stamina im-
mersed in the base of the petal : stigma funnel-
shaped. Species four, natives of the East and
West Indies, and of the Cape.
SAMARCAND, a great city of Asia, the for-
mer capital of Independent Tartary, and, under
Timur, of an empire which extended over a great
part of this continent. Clavijo, a Spanish am-
bassador, who visited it about A. D. 1400, esti-
mated the population of the city and suburbs at
150,000. A considerable number, for want of
habitations, were obliged to make their habi-
tations in the surrounding rocks. The country,
for two leagues round, was entirely covered with
large villages, gardens, and country houses, the
residence of Tartar chiefs ; so that to a stranger
approaching, a vast forest seemed to enclose it.
Its inland commerce was most extensive. The
pomp of Timur's court, and of his numerous
palaces, is said to have surpassed description.
Our information with regard to the modern state
pf this once celebrated capital, is very imperfect.
SAMARIA, in ancient geography, one of the
three larger districts on this side of the Jordan,
situated in the middle between Galilee on the
north, and Judea on the south, beginning at the
village Ginsea, in the Campus Magnus, and end-
ing at the toparchy called Acrobatena. (Josephus).
Its soil differed in nothing from that of Judea ;
both equally hilly and champaign, both equally
fertile in corn and fruit (id.) : called the king-
dom of Samaria in Ephraim (Bible) ; comprising
the ten tribes, and consequently all the country
to the north of Judea, and east and west of Jor-
dan. Both the kingdom and city are now called
Naplous.
SAMARIA, the capital city of the kingdom of
Samaria, or of the ten tribes. It was built by
Omri king of Israel, who began to reign A. M.
3079, and died in 3086. 1 Rings xvi. 24. He
bought the hill Samaria of Shemer for two ta-
lents of silver, or for the sum of £684 : 7 : 6. It
took the name of Samaria from Shemer the owner
of the hill ; though some think there were al-
ready some beginnings of a city, because, before
the reign of Omri, there is mention made of Sa-
maria (I Kings xiii. 32) in A. M. 3030. But
others take this for a prolepsis, or an anticipation,
in the discourse of the man of God, who speaks
of Samaria under the reign of Jeroboam. How-
ever this be, it is certain that Samaria was no
considerable place, and did not become the
capital of the kingdom of Israel till after the
reign of Omri. Before him, the kings of Israel
dwelt at Shechem, or at Tirzah. Samaria was
situated upon an agreeable and fruitful hill, and in
an advantageous situation, and was twelve miles
from Dothairn, twelve from Merom, and four
from Atharoth. Josephus says it was a day's
journey from Jerusalem. Besides, though it was
built upon an eminence, yet it must have had
water in abundance ; since we find medals
struck in this city, wherein is represented the
goddess Astarte treading a river under foot.
And Josephus says that, when it was taken by
John Hyrcanus, he caused the brook to flow
over its ruins, to obliterate all marks of it. The
kings of Samaria omitted nothing to make the
city the strongest, the finest, and the richest, that
was possible. Ahab built there a palace of
ivory (1 Kings xxii. 39), that is there were many
ornaments of ivory in it. Amos describes Sa-
maria under Jeroboam II., as a city sunk into
all excesses of luxury and effeminacy. (Amos
iii. 15, and iv. 1, 2). Benhadad king of Syria
built public places or streets in Samaria (1 Kings
xx. 34), probably for traffic, where his people
dwelt to promote trade. His son Ben-hadad
besieged it under Ahab (1 Kings xx. 1, 2, 3, &c.)
A. M. 3203. In 3204 Ben-hadad brought au
army into the field, but it was again cut in
pieces. Some years after this Ben-hadad came
a third time, lay down before Samaria, and re-
duced it to such necessities by famine that a
mother was there forced to eat her own child ;
but the city was relieved by a sensible exertion
of the protection of God. Lastly, it was besieg-
ed by Shalmaneser king of Assyria, in the ninth
year of Hoshea king of Israel (2 Kings xvii. 6, 7,
&c.), and fourth of Hezekiah king of Judah. It
was taken three years after, in A. M. 3283. The
prophet Hosea speaks of the cruelties exercised
by Shalmaneser against the besieged (Hosea x.
4 — 8) ; and Micah says that this city was re-
duced to a heap of stones. (M.ic. i. 6). The
266
SAMARITANS.
Cuthites, who were sent by Esarhaddon to in-
habit the country of Samaria, did not think it
worth their while to repair the ruins of this city,
they dwelt at Shechem, which they made their
capital. They were still upon this footing when
Alexander the Great came into Phoenicia and
Judea. However the Cuthites had rebuilt some
of the houses of Samaria, from the time of the
return from the captivity, since Ezra then speaks
of the inhabitants of Samaria (Ezra iv. 17; Nehem.
iv. 2) ; and the Samaritans, jealous of the favors that
Alexander the Great had conferred on the Jews,
revolted from him while he was in Egypt, and
burnt Andromachus alive, whom Alexander had
left governor of Syria. Alexander marched against
them, took Samaria, and put in Macedonians to
inhabit it ; giving the country around it to the
Jews ; and, to encourage them to cultivate it, lie
granted them an exemption from tribute. The
kings of Egypt and Syria, who succeeded Alex-
ander, deprived them of the property of this
country. But Alexander Balas king of Syria
restored to Jonathan Maccabaeus the cities of
Lydda, Ephrem, and Ramatha, which he cut off
from the country of Samaria. (1 Mac. x. 30,
38, and xi. 28, 34). Lastly, the Jews re-enter-
ed into the full possession of this whole country
under John Ilyrcanus, the Asmonacan, who took
Samaria, and ruined it as above-mentioned. It
continued in this condition to A. M. 3937, when
Aulus Gabinius was the proconsul of Syria, and
gave it the name of Gabiniana. But it was still
inconsiderable, till Herod the Great restored it
to its ancient lustre, and named it Sebaste, the
Greek for Augusta, in honor of Augustus, who
had given him the property of it. The sacred
authors of the New Testament mention but little
of Samaria ; and when they do, it is rather of the
country about it than of the city. (See Luke
xvii. 11 ; John iv. 4, 5). It was there our Lord
had the conversation with a Samaritan woman of
Sychar. After the death of St. Stephen (Acts
viii. 1, 2, 3), when the disciples were dispersed
through Judea and Samaria, St. Philip the dea-
con withdrew into the city of Samaria, where he
made several converts. When the apostles
heard that this city had received the word of
God, they sent Peter and John thither, to com-
municate the Holy Ghost to such as had been
baptised. There they found Simon Magus.
See SIMON. Samaria is never called Sebaste in
the New Testament, though strangers hardly
knew it but by this name. St. Jerome says that
it was thought Obadiah was buried at Samaria.
They also showed there the tombs of Elisha and
of St. John the baptist. There are found many
ancient medals that were struck at Sebaste and
Samaria ; and some bishops of this city have
subscribed to the ancient councils.
SAMARITANS, the people of the city and
province of Samaria. In this sense, it should
seem that we might give the name of Samaritans
to the Israelites of the ten tribes, who lived in
the city and territory of Samaria. However, the
sacred authors give the name of Samaritans only
to those strangers whom the kings of Assyria
sent from beyond the Kuphrates to inhabit the
kingdom of Samaria, when they carried captive
the Israelites that were there before. Thus we
may fix the epoch of the Samaritans at the tak-
ing of Samaria by Salmaneser, in A.M. 3283.
This prince carried away the Israelites, and as-
signed them dwellings beyond the Euphrates,
and in Assyria (2 Kings xvii. 24). He sent
other inhabitants in their stead, of whom the
most considerable were the Cuthites, a people
descended from Cush, and who are probably of
the number of those whom the ancients knew by
the name of Scythians. See CUTH. His suc-
cessor Esarhaddon, being informed that the peo-
ple which had been sent to Samaria were infested
by lions (3 Rings xvii. 25), imputed it to their
ignorance of the manner of worshipping the god
of the country ; and sent a priest of the god of
Israel that he might teach them the religion of
the Hebrews. But they blended this religion
with that which they professed before; so they
continued to worship their idols, in conjunction
with the God of Israel, not perceiving how in-
compatible these two religions were. It is not
known how long they continued in this state ;
but, at the return from the captivity of Babylon,
they had entirely quitted the worship of their
idols; and, when they asked permission of the
Israelites that they might labor with them at the
rebuilding the temple of Jerusalem, they affirm-
ed, that from the time that Esarhaddon had
brought them into this country they had always
worshipped the Lord. (Ezra iv. 1, 2, 3). And
indeed, after the return from the captivity, the
scripture nowhere reproaches them with idola-
trous worship, though it does not dissemble
either their jealousy against the Jews, or the ill
offices they had done them at the court of Persia,
by their slanders and calJmnies, or the strata-
gems they contrived to hinder the repairing of
the walls of Jerusalem. (Nehem. ii. 10, 19; iv.
2, &c. ; vi. 1, 2, &c.). It does not appear that
there was any temple in Samaria, in common to
all those people who came thither from beyond
the Euphrates, before the coming of Alexander
the Great into Judea. Till then every one was
left to his own discretion, and worshipped the
Lord where he thought fit. But they soon com-
prehended, from the books of Moses which they
had in their hands, and from the example of the
Jews, that God was to be worshipped in that
place only which he had chosen. As they could
not go to the temple of Jerusalem, which the
Jews would not permit, they resolved to build a
temple of their own upon Mount Gerizim, near
Shechern, their capital. Therefore Sanballat, the
governor of the Samaritans, applied to Alexan-
der, as Josephus says, but more probably to Da-
rius Nothus, king of Persia, as Dr. Prideaux
supposes (see SANBALLAT) ; and told him he had
a son-in-law, called Manasses, son to Jaddus the
high priest of the Jews, who had retired to Sa-
maria with a great number of other persons of his
own nation : that he desired to build a temple in
this province, where he might exercise the high-
priesthood ; that this undertaking would be to the
advantage of the king's affairs, because, in build-
ing a temple in the province of Samaria, the na-
tion of the Jews would be divided, who were a
turbulent and seditious people, and by such a
division would be made weaker, and less in acon-
dilion to undertake new enterprises. The king
SAMARITANS.
267
readily consented to whatSanballat desired, and
the Samaritans presently began their building of
the temple of Gerizim, which from that time
they have always frequented, and still frequent as
the place where the Lord intended to receive the
adoration of his people. It is of this mountain,
and of this temple, that the Samaritan woman of
Sychar spoke lo our Saviour. (John iv. 20). See
GERIZIM. Josephus adds that the Samaritans
did not long continue subject to Alexander ; they
revolted the very next year, and he drove them
out of Samaria, put Macedonians in their room,
and gave the province of Samaria to the Jews.
This preference that Alexander gave to the Jews
contributed not a little to increase that hatred
that had already obtained between these two
people. When an Israelite had deserved pun-
ishment, for the violation of some important point
<>f the law, he took refuge in Samaria. When
the Jews were in a prosperous condition, and
affairs were favorable to them, the Samaritans
called themselves Hebrews, and pretended to be
of the race of Abraham. But, when the Jews
fell under persecution, the Samaritans disowned
them, and acknowledged themselves to be Phoe-
nicians originally. This was their practice in
the time of Antiochus Epiphanes. The Samari-
tans, having received the Pentateuch from the
priest that was sent by Esarhaddon, have pre-
served it to this day, in the same language and
character it was then, that is, in the old Hebrew
or Phoenician character which we now call the
Samaritan, to distinguish it from the modern
Hebrew character, at present used in the books
of the Jews. These last, after their captivity,
changed their old characters, and took up those
of the Chaldee, which they had been used to at
Babylon, and which they continue to use. It is
wrong, says F. Calmet, to give this the name of
the Hebrew character, for that can be said pro-
perly only of the Samaritan text. The critics
have taken notice of some variations between the
Pentateuch of the Jews and that of the Samari-
tans ; but these chiefly regard the word Gerizim,
which the Samaritans purposely introduced to
favor their pretensions, that mount Gerizim was
the place in which the Lord was to be adored.
The religion of this people was at first the Pa-
gan. Every one worshipped the deity they had
been used to (2 Kings xvii. 29. — 31). The Ba-
bylonians worshipped Succoth-benoth ; the Cu-
thites, Nergal; the Hamathites, Ashima: the
Avites, Nibhaz and Tartak ; the Sepharvites,
Adrammelech and Anammelech. Afterwards,
the Samaritans added that of the Lord, the God
of Israel (ibid. 32, 33). But they gave a proof
of their little regard to the worship of the true
God, when, under Antidchus Epiphanes, they
consecrated their temple at Gerizim to Jupiter
Argivus. In the time of Alexander the Great,
they celebrated the sabbatical year, and conse-
quently the year of jubilee also. Under the
kings of Syria they followed the epoch of the
Creeks, or that of the Seleucidae. After Herod
'iad re-established Sa.naria, and given it the name
of Sebaste, the inhabitants, in their medals, and
all public acts, took the date of this new esiab-
• -•ihment. But the old inhabitants of Samaria,
c>i whom the greater part were Pagans or Jews,
were no rule to the other Samaritans, who pro-
bably reckoned their years by the reigns of the
emperors they were subject to, till they fell under
the Mahometans, under whom they live at this
day ; and they reckon their year by the Hegira,
or according to the era of the Ishmaelites. Such
as desire to be further acquainted with the his-
tory of the ancient Samaritans, we refer to the
works of Josephus. As to their religion, it is
said that they receive only the Pentateuch, and
reject all the other books of scripture, chiefly the
prophets, who have expressly declared thecominc;
of the Messiah. They have also been accused
of believing God to be corporeal, of denying the
Holy Ghost, and the resurrection of the dead.
Jesus Christ says (John iv. 22) they worship they
know not what. The Samaritan woman is a suf-
ficient testimony that the Samaritans expected a
Messiah, who they hoped would clear up all their
doubts (John iv. 25). Several of the inhabit-
ants of Shechem believed at the preaching of
Jesus Christ, and several of Samaria believed at
that of St. Philip. The modern Samaritans are
not numerous. Joseph Scaliger, being curious
to know their usages, wrote to the Samaritans of
Egypt, and to the high-priest of the sect who re-
sided at Neapolis in Syria. They returned two
answers to Scaliger, dated in the year of the
Hegira 998. These were preserved in the
French king's library, and were translated into
Latin by Morin, and printed in England in the
collection of that father's letters, in 1682, under
the title of Antiquitates EcclesiseOrientalis. By
these it appears that they believe in God, in
Moses, the holy law, the mountain of Gerizim,
the house of God, the day of vengeance and of
peace; that they value themselves upon ob-
serving the law of Moses in many points more
rigidly than the Jews themselves. They keep
the sabbath with the utmost strictness, without
stirring from the place they are in, but only to
the synagogue. They go not out of the city, and
abstain from their wives on that day. They
never delay circumcision beyond the eighth day.
They still sacrifice in the temple on mount Ge-
rizim, and give to the priest what is enjoined by
the law. They do not marry their nieces as the
Jews do, nor do they allow a plurality of wives.
Their hatred for the Jews is testified by Jose-
phus, as well as in the New Testament. (See
John iv. 9). The Jewish historian says that one
passover night, when they opened the gates of
the temple, some Samaritans had scattered the
bones of dead men there, to insult the Jews,
and to interrupt their devotions. And the Sa-
maritan woman of Sychar was surprised that
Jesus talked with her, and asked drink of her,
being a Samaritan. When our Saviour sent his
apostles to preach in Judea, he forbad them to
enter into the Samaritan cities (Matt. x. 5);
because he looked upon them as schismatics.
One day, when he sent his disciples to provide
him a lodging in one of the cities of the Samari-
tans, they would not entertain him, because they
perceived he was going to Jerusalem (Luke ix.
52, 53). And, when the Jews were provoked at
the reproaches of Jesus Christ, they told him he
was a Samaritan (John viii. 48). Josephus re-
lates t: ; t some Samaritans having killed several
SAM
268
SAM
Jews, as they were going to the feast at Jerusa-
lem, this occasioned a kind of war between them.
The Samaritans continued their fealty to the
Romans, when the Jews revolted ; yet they did
not escape from being involved in some of the
calamities of their neighbours. There were, in
very modern times, Samaritans at Shechem,
otherwise called Naplouse. They had priests of
the family of Aaron, as they stated : a high-
priest, who resided at Shechem, or at Gerizim,
vho offered sacrifices there, and who declared
the feast of the passover, and all the other feasts,
to all the Samaritans. Some of them are said
still to be found at Gaza, some at Damascus,
and some at Grand Cairo.
SAMBALLAS, a name given to a cluster of
islands near the coast of America, in the Spanish
Main, of which three groupes are called Cave-
sas, Mulatas, and Sagua. These islands are
scattered at very unequal distances, some only
one, some two, some three, and some four miles
Irom the shore and from one another, extending
a very considerable distance along the northern
shore of the isthmus of Darien.
SAMBUCUS (John), a learned physician,
bon: at Teraau, in Hungary, in 1531. After study-
ing in several universities, his abilities recom-
mended him to the emperors, Maximilian II. and
Rodolph II., who successively appointed him
counsellor and historiographer. He wrote
the Lives of the Roman Emperors, and other
works. He died at Vienna, in 1584.
SAMBUCUS, in botany, elder, a genus of the
trigynia order, and pentandria class of plants ;
natural order forty-third, dumosae : CAL. quin-
quepartite : COR. quinquefid ; berry trispermous.
The most remarkable species are these :
1. S. Canadensis, the Canada shrubby elder,
rises with a shrubby stem, branching eight or ten
feet high, having reddish shoots, somewhat bi-
pinnated leaves, often ternate below ; the other
composed of five, seven, or nine oval lobes ; and
towards the ends of the branches cymose quin-
quepartite umbels of flowers, succeeded by
blackish-red berries.
2. S. nigra, the common black elder tree, rises
with a tree stem, branching numerously into a
large spreading head, twenty or thirty feet high ;
pinnated leaves, of two or three pairs of oval
lobes and one odd one ; and large five-parted
umbels of white flowers towards the end of the
branches, succeeded by bunches of black and
other different colored berries, in the rarieties ;
which are, common black-berried elder-tree,
white-berried elder, green-berried elder, lacini-
ated, or parsley-leaved elder, having the folioles
much laciniated, so as to resemble parsley-leaves,
gold-striped leaved elder, silver-striped elder,
and silver-dusted elder.
5. S. racemosa, racemose, red-berried elder,
rises with a tree-like stem, branching ten or
twelve feet high, having reddish-brown branches
and buds ; pinnated leaves of six or seven oval
fleeply-sawed lobes, and compound, oval, race-
mous clusters of whitish-green flower, suc-
ceeded by oval clusters of red berries. It is
lommon to the mountainous parts of the south
of Europe, and is retained in our gardens as a
flowering shrub, naving a peculiar singularity in
its oval-clustered flowers and berries. AH tlie
sorts of elder are of the deciduous kind, very
hardy, and grow freely any where ; are generally
free shooters, but particularly the common elder
and its varieties, which make remarkably strong-
jointed shoots, of several feet in length, in one
season ; and they flower mostly in summer, ex-
cept the racemose elder, which generally begins
flowering in April ; and the branches being large,
spreading, and very abundant, are exceedingly
conspicuous ; but they emit a most disagreeable
odor. The flowers are succeeded, in the most of
the sorts, by large bunches of ripe berries in au-
tumn, which, though very unpalatable to eat, are in
high estimation for making that well known cor-
dial called elder wine, particularly the common
black-berried elder. The merit of the elder in
gardening may be both for use and ornament,
especially in large grounds.
SAME, adj. \ Sax. j-am ; Goth, and Teut.
SAMENESS, n.s. \ same. Identical ; not different ;
not another; being of the like sort or degree:
the noun substantive corresponding.
Miso, as spitefully as her rotten voice could utter
it, set forth the tame sins of Amphialus. kidney.
Difference of persuasion in matters of religion
may easily fall out, where there is the sameness of
duty, allegiance, and subjection. King C/mr/c*.
Do but think how well the same he spends,
Who spends his blood his country to relieve.
Daniel.
The tenor of man's woe
Holds on the same. Stilton.
Th' etlierial vigour is in all the tame,
And ev'ry soul is filled with equal flame. Dryden.
The merchant does not keep money by him ; but,
if you consider what money must be lodged in the
banker's hands, the case will be much the same.
Locke.
If itself had been coloured, it would have trans-
mitted all visible objects tinctured with the same
colour , as we see whatever is beheld through a
coloured glass appears of the same colour with the
glass. Hay on the Creation.
The tame plant produceth as great a variety of
juices as there is in the same animal. Arbuthin>t.
If all courts have a sameness in them, 'things may
be as they were in my time, when all employments
went to parliamentmen's friends. Swift.
SAM I EL, the Arabian name of a hot wind
peculiar to the desert of Arabia. It blows over
the desert in July and August from the north-
west quarter. Some years it does not blow at
all, and in others it appears six, eight, or ten
times, but seldom continues more than a few mi-
nutes at a time. It often passes with the appa-
rent quickness of lightning. The Arabs and
Persians have warning of its approach by a thick
haze arising out of the horizon: when they in-
stantly throw themselves with their faces to the
ground, and continue in that position till the wind
has passed, which happens almost instantane-
ously ; but if they are not brisk enough to take
this precaution, and they get the full force of the
wind, it generally produces death. The Arabs
say that this wind always leaves behind it a very
strong sulphureous smell, and that the air at
these times is quite clear, except about the hori-
zon in the north-west, which gives wartiing of its
approach. See ARABIA
SAM
269
SAM
SAM'LET, n. s. Fr. salmonet, or salmonlet.
A little salmon.
A salmon, after he is got into the sea, becomes
from a samlet, not so big as a gudgeon, to be a sal-
mon, in as short a time as gosling becomes a goose.
Walton's Angler.
SAMNITES, an ancient nation of Italy, who
inhabited the country situated between Picenum,
Campania, Apulia, and Latium. They distin-
guished themselves by their implacable enmity
against the Romans, in the early ages of that
republic ; but were at last totally subdued, and,
according to some, extirpated, about A. A. C.
272, after a war of seventy-one years. See
ROME.
SAMOGITIA, or SZAMAIT, a tract of Russian
Lithuania, forming the north-west part of that
great province, and bearing the title of county.
It lies to the south of Courland, and to the north
of Prussia Proper, having part of its western
boundary along the Baltic, but without any har-
bour of consequence.
SAMOLUS, in botany, round-leaved water
pimpernel, a genus of the monogynia order, and
pentandria class of plants ; natural order twenty-
first, precise : COR. salver-shaped ; stamina sur-
rounded by small scales at its throat: CAPS.
unilocular inferior. Species four, one of which,
S. valerandi, is common to the marshes of our
country.
SAMON, an island in the eastern seas, lying
off Timor to the north-west. It is woody, hilly
land, but not mountainous, and towards the
south end low. A woody island, called Tios in
the charts, lies off the south-west point, which is
the only thing like danger on the west side ; but
the tides run strong here, and make formidable
riplings.
SAMOS, in ancient geography, an island of
Asia, in the ./Egean Sea, near the promontory
Mycale, opposite to Ephesus ; in compass eighty-
seven miles according to Pliny, or 100 according
to Isidorus ; famous for a temple of Juno, with
a noted asylum, whence their coin exhibited a
peacock. It was the country of Pythagoras, who,
to avoid the oppression of its tyrants, retired to
Italy. Samos was first governed by kings, after-
wards became a democracy, and at last an oli-
garchy. It was most flourishing under Polv crates.
The Samians assisted the Greeks against Xerxes.
They were conquered by Pericles A. A.C. 441 :
afterwards by Eumenes king of Pergamus ; but
restored to liberty by Augustus. Samos was re-
duced to a Roman province under Vespasian.
SAMOS, an island of the Grecian archipelag >,
separated only by a narrow strait from the o >-
posite continent of Asia Minor. See GREECE.
SAMOTHRACE, or SAMOTHRACIA, in ancient
geography, an island in the TEgean Sea, opposite
the mouth of the Hebrus, thirty-two miles from
the coast of Thrace. It was also called Dardania,
Electria, Leucania, Leucosia, Melitis, and
Samos ; and hence Samothrace, or Thracian Sa-
mos, to distinguish it from Samos in Asia Minor.
Pliny makes it thirty-eight miles in circumfer-
ence, but modern travellers say it is only twenty.
Before the age of the Argonauts it was deluged
to the top of the highest mountains by a sudden
inundation of the Euxine. It was anciently go-
verned by kings, but, like most other states in
Greece, became afterwards democratic. The
people enjoyed all their rights and priyilege*
under the Romans till the reign of Vespasian.
By him it was reduced, with the other islands in
the ,/Egean Sea, to the form of a Roman province.
It is now under the Turks, and by them named
Samandrachi.
SAMOYEDES, a savage race who traverse
the immense and frozen deserts extending along
the northern coast of Asia. They do not recog-
nise themselves by this name, which has been
given to them by the Russians, but call them
selves Khasova. They extend, on the European
side, as far as the river Mesen, which falls into
the White Sea ; while they inhabit the shores of
Asia, eastward to the Olenek, and almost to the
Lena : thus filling up the space between 40" and
120° of E. long., a line of upwards of 2000
miles. The whole of this vast extent is not
supposed to contain a population of more than
20,000. They are divided into three great tribes:
the Vanoites, who inhabit the banks of the Pet-
chora and the Obi, in the vicinity of Ob-
dorsk ; -the Tysia-Igoley, who are found on the
Mesen, and in the interior of the government of
Archangel ; and the Khirutches, who fill the re-
moter and interior parts of Siberia. The rude
traditions concerning their origin seem to sup-
port the conjecture that they were driven hither,
by war and oppressson, from happier climates.
Like other tribes of these ungenial climates,
theysare a small and stunted race, commonly be-
tween four and five feet high. They have a flat,
round, broad face, large thick lips, a wide and
open nose, little beard, and black and rough hair
in small quantity, carefully arranged. The dress
of the men differs little from that of the Ostialcs;
but they are reckoned more savage, and are very
superstitious.
SAMP, a dish said to have been invented by
the savages of North America, who have no corn
mills. It is Indian corn deprived of its external
coat by soaking it ten or twelve hours in a lixi-
vium of water and wood-ashes. This coat or
husk, being separated from the kernel, rises to
the surface of the water, while the grain, which
is specifically heavier than water, remains at the
bottom of the vessel ; which grain, thus deprived
of its hard coat of armour, is boiled, or rather
simmered, for two days, in a kettle of water near
the fire. When sufficiently cooked, the kernels
swell to a great size and burst open ; and this
food, which is uncommonly sweet and nourish-
ine, may be used in a variety of ways ; but the
best way is to mix it with milk, and with
soups and broths, as a substitute for bread. It
is even better than bread for these purposes;
for, besides being quite as palatable as the very
best bread, it is less liable than bread to grow
very soft when mixed with these liquids.
SAM'PHIRE, n. s. Fr. sain* Pierre ; Lat.
crithmum. A plant preserved in pickle.
Half way down
Hangs one that gathers samphire : dreadful trade !
Met h inks he seems no bigger than his head.
Shakajieare
This plant grows in great plenty upon the rocks
near the sea-shore, where it is washed by the salt
SAM
270
SAN
water. Il is greatly esteemed for pickling, and is from the form of the arches of the gates, nnd
sometimes used in medicine. Miller.
SAMIMUHF.. See CIUTHMTM.
SAMT1.K, n. s. \ Corrupted from example
SAM'PI.ER. < and exemplar. A speci-
men ; part of the whole shown, that judgment
may be made of the whole : a pattern of work.
O love, why dos't thou in thy beautiful sampler
set such a Work for my desire to set out, which is
impossible ? Sidney.
Fair Philomela, she but lost her tongue,
And in a tedious sampler sewed her mind.
Sliakspture.
We created with our needles both one flower,
Both on one sampler, sitting on one cushion ;
Both warbling of one song, both in one key.
As if our hands, our sides, voices, and minds
Had been incorp'rate. fd.
He entreated them to tarry but two days, and he
himself would bring them a sample of the ore.
Raleigh.
Coarse complexions,
And cheeks of sorry grain, will serve to ply
The sampler, and to tease the housewife's wool.
Milton.
I have not engaged myself to any : I am not
loaded with a full cargo : 'tis sufficient if I bring
a sample of some goods in this voyage. Dryden.
Determinations of justice were very summary and
decisive, and generally put an end to the vexations
of a law-suit by the ruin both of plaintiff and de-
fendant : travellers have recorded some samplet of
this kind. Addison.
From most bodies
Some little bits ask leave to flow ;
And, as through these canals they roll,
Bring up a sample of the whole. Prior.
I design this but for a sample of what I hope more
fully to discuss. Woodward.
I saw her sober over a sampler, or gay over a
jointed baby. Pope.
SAMSON, the son of Manoah, of the tribe of
Dan, and a judge of Israel. The extraordinary
circumstances of his birth, life, miraculous
strength, marriage, repeated defeats of the Phi-
some ancient pieces of sculpture, intermixed with
the other stones, appears to have been built by
the Turks : but the town can boast of five mosques,
with minarets, and a large khan for the use of
merchants. The ships belonging to the port
are navigated by the Greeks ; adjoining villages
are inhabited chiefly by Christians. Inhabitants
2000.
SAMUEL, an eminent inspired prophet, his-
torian, and judge of Israel, and the last judge of
that commonwealth. lie was the son of Klkanah,
a Levite of the family of Kohath, by his beloved
wife Hannah. The extraordinary circumstances
preceding his birth ; his early dedication to God
by his mother, with her beautiful hymn on that
occasion; the revelations communicated to him
by the Almighty ; his reformation of the people,
and their consequent victory over the Philistines ;
the conduct of his sons, which excited the peo-
ple to desire a change of government ; his
description of the character of a king ; his
anointing of Saul their first monarch ; his appeal
to the people respecting his own just govern-
ment ; his repeated reproofs of king Saul for
his improper conduct ; his just punishment of
the murderous monarch of the Amalekites ; his
anointing of David ; and his death, — are record-
ed 1 Sam. i. — xxv. He is reckoned the author
of the books of Judges and Ruth.
SAMUEL, THE BOOKS OF, two canonical books
of the Old Testament. The books of Samuel
and the books of Kings are a continued history
of the reigns of the kings of Israel and Judah ;
for which reason the books of Samuel are like-
wise styled the first and second book of Kinys.
Since the first twenty-four chapters contain all
that relates to the history of Samuel, and the
latter part of the first book and all the second
include the relation of events that happened aft«'r
the death of that prophet, it has been supposed
that Samuel was author of the first twenty-four
chapters, and that the prophets Gad and Nathan
listines, captivity, and death, are recorded in finished the work. The hrst book of Samuel
Judges xiii. — xvi. He judged Israel twenty
years. Chronologists place his death in A. M.
S887, or A. A. C. 1117: Milton wrote a beauti-
ful poem on his history, entitled Samson Agonis-
tes.
SAMSON'S POST, a sort of pillar erected in a
ship's hold, between the lower deck and the
kelson, under the edge of a hatchway, and fur-
nished with several notches that serve as steps to
mount gr descend, as occasion requires. This
post, being firmly driven into its place, not only
serves to support the beam and fortify the vessel
comprehends the transactions under the govern-
ment of Eli and Samuel, and under Saul the first
king ; and also the acts of David while lie lived
under Saul. The second book is wholly spent
in relating the transactions of David's reign.
SAMYDA, in botany, a genus of the mono-
gynia order, and decandria class of plants : CAL.
quinquepartite and colored : COR. none : CAPS.
the inside resembles a berry, is trivalved and
unilocular: the SEEDS nestling. Species ten,
natives of the East and West Indies.
SANADON (Noel Stephen), a Jesuit, born at
in that place, but also to prevent the cargo or Roueu in 1676, and a distinguished professor
materials contained in the hold from shifting to of humanity at Caen. He there became ac-
the opposite side by the rolling of the ship in a quainted with Huet bishop of Avranches, after-
turbulent or heavy sea. wards his intimate friend. Sanadon next taught
SAMSOON, a city of Asia Minor, on the rhetoric at the university of Paris, and was en-
Black Sea, and on the site of the ancient Amisus, trusted with the education of the prince of Conti
which, after Sinope, was the most opulent city in after the death of Du Morceau. In 1728 he was
Pontus. It is situated near the west end of a made librarian to Louis XIV., an office which
bay, about four miles in length, and surrounded he retained t6 his death. He died on the 21st
by olive trees. The houses, which are made of September 1733, in the fifty-eighth year of his
wood, plastered with mud, and white-washed, age. His works are, 1. Latin Poems, in 12mo.,
produce a good effect. The modern town is 1715, and by Barbou, in 8vo., 1754. These
small, surrounded by a decayed wall, which, consist of Odes, Elegies, Epigrams, &c. '2. A
SANCHONIATHO.
271
Translation of Horace, with Remarks, in 2 vols.
4to., Paris, 1727; best edition Amsterdam, 1735,
in 8 vols. 12mo,; with the notes of M. Dacier.
Sanadon translated with elegance and taste ; but
his version is rather ~a paraphrase than a faithful
translation. 3. A collection of Discourses ; and
4. Prieres et Instructions Chretiennes.
SAN'ATIVE, adj. > Lat. sano. Powerful
SANA'TION, M.S. > to cure ; healing: the act
of curing.
The vapour of coltsfoot hath a sanative virtue to-
wards the lungs. Bacon 't Natural History.
Consider well the member, and, if you have no
probable hope of sanatian, cut it off quickly.
Wiseman 's Surgery.
SANBALLAT, the governor of the Samari-
tans, a great enemy to the Jews. He was a na-
tive of Horon, or Horonaim, a city beyond
Jordan, in the country of the Moabites. He
lived in the time ofv Nehemiah, who was his
great opponent, and from whose book we learn
his history. There is one circumstance related
of him by Josephus which has occasioned some
dispute among the learned. According to that
author, when Alexander the Great came into
Phoenicia, and sat down before the city of
Tyre, Sanballat quitted the interests of Darius
king of Persia, and went at the head of 8000
men to offer his services to Alexander. This
prince readily entertained him, and, at his re-
quest, gave him leave to erect a temple upon
mount Gerizim, where he constituted his son-in-
jaw Manasseh the high-priest. But this is a fla-
grant anachronism ; for 120 years before this,
that is, in A. M. 3550, Sanballat was governor of
Samaria ; wherefore the learned Dr. Prideaux
(in his Connexion of the Histories of the Old and
New Testament) supposes two Sanballats, and
endeavours to show it to be a mistake of Jose-
phus, in making Sauballat to flourish in the time
of Darius Codomannus, and to build his temple
upon mount Gerizim by license from Alexander
the Great ; whereas this was performed by leave
from Darius Nothus, in the fifteenth year of his
reign.
SANCHES (Anthony Nunes Ribeiro), M. D.,
a learned physician, born at Penna-Macor in
Portugal, in 1699. His father, an opulent mer-
chant, gave him a liberal education, intending
him for the law, and, on finding him prefer
physic, withdrew his protection ; on which his
maternal uncle, Dr. Nunes Ribeiro, a physician
at Lisbon, furnished him with the means of pro-
secuting his studies, at Coimbra and Salamanca ;
where he took his degree in 1724. In 1725 he
was appointed physician to the town of Bene-
vente. About 1727 he came over to London,
•where he spent two years ; after which he studied
at Leyden under Boerhaave; who, in 1731, re-
commended him to the empress Anne of Russia.
On his arrival at Petersburg Dr. Bidloo, then
first physician to the empress, gave him an ap-
pointment in the hospital at Moscow, where he
continued till 1734, when he was appointed phy-
sician to the army, and was present at the siege
of Asoph. In 1740 he was appointed one of the
physicians to the empress, who had labored
eight years under a disease which he asserted to
be a stone in the kidney. His opinion was con-
firmed at her death, six months after, upon open-
ing her. The regency that succeeded appointed
him first physician ; but the revolution of 1742,
which placed Elizabeth on the throne, deprived
him of all his employments. Hardly a day
passed that he did not hear of some of his friends
being executed ; and it was with difficulty that
he obtained leave to retire from Russia. In
1747 he went to Paris, where he continued till
October 14th, 1783, when he died. His printed
works, on the Origin of the Venereal Disease,
and other subjects, are well known to the faculty.
He was a member of the Royal Medical Society
at Paris, and of the Royal Academy of Lisbon,
to the establishment of which he had contributed.
SANCHEZ (Francis), in Latin Sanctius, was
of Las Brocas in Spain. He wrote, 1. An ex-
cellent treatise entitled Minerva, or De Causis
Linguae Latinae, which was published at Amster-
dam in 1714, in 8vo. The authors of the Port-
royal Methode de la Langue Latine have been
much indebted to this work. 2. The Art of
Speaking, and the Method of Translating Au-
thors. 3. Several other learned pieces on gram-
mar. He died in 1600, in his seventy-seventli
year.
SANCHEZ (Francis), a Portuguese physician,
who settled at Toulouse, and, though a Christian,
was born of Jewish parents. He is said to have
been a man of genius and a philosopher. His
works have been collected under the title of
Opera Medica. His juncti sunt tractatus quidam
philosophici non insubtiles. They were printed
at Toulouse in 1636; where Sanchez died in
1632.
SANCHONIATHO, or SANCHONIATHON, a
Phoenician philosopher and historian, who is said
to have flourished before the Trojan war, about
the time of Semiramis. Of this most ancient
writer the only remains extant are fragments of
cosmogony, and of the history of the gods and
first mortals, preserved by Eusebius and Theo-
doret ; both of whom speak of Sanchoniatho as
an accurate and faithful historian ; and the for-
mer adds that his work, which was translated by
Philo Byblius from the Phenician into the Greek
language, contains many things relating to the
history of the Jews which deserve great credit,
both because they agree with the Jewish writers,
and because the author received these particulars
from the annals of Hierombalus, a priest of the
god Jao. Several modern writers, however, of
great learning, have called in question the very
existence of Sanchoniatho, and have 'contended
that the fragments which Eusebius adopted as
genuine, u-pon the authority of Porphyry, were
forged by that author, or the pretended translator
Philo, from enmity to the Christians, that the
Pagans might have something to show of equal
antiquity with the books of Moses. These op-
posite opinions have produced a controversy
that has filled volumes. We can, however, only
refer such of our readers as are desirous of fuller
information to the works of Bochart, Scaliger,
Vossius, Cumberland, Dodwell, Stillingfleet,
Mosheim, Cudworth. and Warburton. The con-
troversy respects two questions, 1. Was there in
reality such a writer ? 2. Was .he of the very re-
mote antiquity which his translator claims for
him ?
That there was really such a writer, and that
272
S A N C H O N I A T II O.
the fragments preserved by Eusebius are indeed
parts of his history, interpolated perhaps by the
translator, we are fully persuaded. Eusebius,
who admitted them into his work as authentic,
was one of the most learned men of his age. He
had better means than any modern writer can
have of satisfying himself with respect to the au-
thenticity of a very extraordinary work, which
had then but lately been translated into the
Greek language, and made generally known ;
and there is nothing in the work itself, or at least
in those parts of it which he has preserved,
that could induce a wise and good man to ob-
trude it upon the public as genuine, had he him-
self suspected it to be spurious. Too many of
the Christian fathers were indeed very credulous,
and ready to admit the authenticity of writings
without duly weighing the merits of their claim ;
but then such writings were always believed to
be favorable to the Christian cause, and inimical
to Paganism. That no man of common sense
could suppose the cosmogony of Sanchoniatho
favorable to the cause of revealed religion, a fur-
ther proof cannot be required than the following-
extract : — ' He affirms that the principles of the
universe were a dark and windy air, or a wind
made of dark air, and a turbulent evening chaos;
and that these things were boundless, or for a
long time had no bound or figure. But when
this wind fell in love with its own principles,
and a mixture was made, that mixture was called
desire, or Cupid (iroQoc). This mixture com-
pleted was the beginning of the ((ertertwc) making
of all things. But that wind did not know its
own production; and of this, with that wind,
was begotten mot, which some call mud, others
the putrefaction of a watery mixture. And of
this came all the seed of this building, and the
generation of the universe. But there were cer-
tain animals which had no sense, out of which
were begotten intelligent animals, and were
called Zophesemin, that is, the spies or overseers
of heaven ; and were formed alike in the shape
of an egg. Thus shone out mot, the sun and the
moon, the less and the greater stars. And the
air shining thoroughly with light, by its fiery in-
fluence on the sea and earth, winds were begot-
ten, and clouds and great defluxions of the
heavenly waters. And all these things first
were parted, and were separated from their
proper place by <he heat of the sun, and then
all met again in the air, and dashed against one
another, and were so broken to pieces ; whence
thunders and lightnings were made ; and at the
stroke of these thunders the fore-mentioned in-
telligent animals were awakened, and frighted
with the sound ; and male and female stirred in
the earth and in the sea.' This is their generation
of animals. After these things Sanchoniatho
goes on saying : 'These things are written in the
Cosmogony of Taautes, and in his memoirs ;
and out of the conjectures, and surer natural
signs which his mind saw, and found out, and
wherewith he hath enlightened us.' Afterwards
declaring the names of the winds north and south,
and the rest, he makes this epilogue: ' But these
first men Consecrated the plants shooting out of
the earth, and judged them gods, and worshipped
them ; upon whom they themselves lived, and
all their posterity and all before them ; to these
they made their meat and drink offerings.' Then
he concludes, ' These were the devices of wor-
ship agreeing with the weakness and want of
boldness in their minds/ Let u» suppose Euse-
bius to have been as weak and credulous as the
darkest monk in the darkest age of Europe, a
supposition which no man will make who knows
any thing of his writings, what could he see in
this senseless jargon which even a dreaming
monk would think of employing in support of
Christianity ? Eusebius justly styles it direct
atheism, but could he imagine that an ancient
system of atheism would contribute so much to
make the Pagans of his age admit as divine reve-
lations the books of the Old and New Testa-
ments, that he should be induced to adopt, with-
out examination, an impudent forgery not 200
years old as genuine remains of the most remote
antiquity ? If this Phenician cosmogony be a
fabrication of Porphyry, or of the pretended
translator, it must surely have been fabricated
for some purpose ; but it is impossible to con-
ceive what purpose either of these writers could
have intended to serve by forging a system so
extravagantly absurd. Porphyry, though an ene-
my to the Christians, was not an atheistj and
would never have thought of making an atheist
of him whom he meant to obtrude upon the world
as the rival of Moses. His own principles were
those of the Alexandrian Platonists ; and, had he
been the forger of the works which bear the name
of Sanchoniatho, instead of the incomprehensible
jargon about dark wind, evening chaos, mot, the
overseers of heaven in the shape of an egg, and
animation proceeding from the sound of thunder,
we should doubtless have been amused with re-
fined speculations concerning the operations of the
Demiurgus and other persons in the Platonic
Triad. See PLATONISM, and PORPHYRY. F.Simon
of the oratory imagines (Bib. Crit. vol. i. p. 140)
that the purpose for which the history of Sancho-
niatho was forged was to support paganism, by
taking from it its mythology and allegories,
which were perpetually objected to it by the
Christian writers ; but this learned man totally
mistakes the matter. The primitive Christians
were too much attached to allegories themselves
to rest their objections to Paganism on such u
foundation ; what they objected to that system
was the immoral stories told of the gods. To
this the Pagan priests and philosophers replied,
that these stories were only mythologic allego-
ries, which veiled all the great truths of theology,
ethics, and physics. The Christians said this
could not be ; Cor that the stories of the gods
had a substantial foundation in fact, the.-:" pods
being only dead men deified, who in life had
like passions and infirmities with other mortals.
This then was the objection which the forper of
the works of Sanchoniatho had to remove, if he
really forged them in support of Paganism ; but,
instead of doing so, he gives the genealogy and
history of all the greater gods, and shows that
they were men deified afterdeath for the exploits,
some of them grossly immoral, which they had
performed in this world. We have elsewhere
given his account of the deification of Chrysor,
and Ouranos, and Ge, and IJ ypsistos, and Muth ;
SANCHONIATHO.
273
but our readers may wish to accompany him
•.hrough the history of Ouranos and Chronus, two
of his greatest gods ; whence it will appear how
little his writings are calculated to support the
tottering cause of Paganism against the objec-
tions urged to it by the Christian apologists.
' Ouranos,' says he, ' taking the kingdom of his
father, married Ge his sister, and by her had
four sons ; Ilus, who is called Chronus ; Betylus ;
Dagon who is Siton, or the god of corn ; and
Atlas. But by other wives Ouranos had much
issue, wherefore Ge, being grieved at it and jea-
lous, reproached Ouranos, so that they parted
from each other. But Ouranos, though he parted
from her, yet by force invading her, and lying
with her when he listed, went away again ; and he
also attempted to kill the children he had by her.
Ge also often defended or avenged herself,
gathering auxiliary powers unto her. But when
Chronus came to man's age, using Hermes Tris-
megistus as his counsellor and assistant (for he
was his secretary), he opposed his father Oura-
nos, avenging his mother. But Chronus had
children, Persephone and Athena; the former
died a virgin, but by the council of the latter
Athena, and of Hermes, Chronus made of iron a
scimitar and a spear. Then Hermes, speaking
to the assistants of Chronus with enchanting words
wrought in them a keen desire to fight against
Ouranos in the behalf of Ge ; and thus Chronus
warring against Ouranos, drove him out of his
kingdom, and succeeded in the imperial power.
In the fight was taken a well-beloved concubine
of Ouranos big with child. Chronus gave her in
marriage to Dagon, and she brought forth at his
house what she had in her womb by Ouranos,
and called him Demaroon. After these things
Chronus builds a wall round about his house, and
founds Byblus the first city in Phenicia. After-
wards Chronus, suspecting his own brother Atlas,
with the advice of Hermes, throwing him into a
deep hole of the earth, there buried him, and
having a son called Sadid, he despatched him
with his own sword, having a suspicion of him,
and deprived his own son of life with his own
hand. He also cut off the head of his own
daughter, so that all the gods were amazed at
the mind of Chronus. But, in process of time,
Ouranos being in banishment, sends his daughter
Astarte, with two other sisters Rhea and Dione,
to cut off Chronus by deceit, whom Chronus tak-
ing, made wives of these sisters. Ouranos, under-
standing this, sent Eimarmene and Hore, Fate
and Beauty, with other auxiliaries, to war against
him ; but Chronus, having gained the affections
of these also, kept them with himself. Ouranos
devised Bsetulia, contriving stones that moved as
having life. But Chronus begat on Astarte seven
daughters, called Titanides or Artemides ; and
he begat on Rhea seven sons, the youngest of
whom, as soon as he was born, was consecrated
a god. Also by Dione he had daughters, and
by Astarte two sons, Pothos and Eros, i. e. Cupid
and Love. But Dagon, after he had found out
bread, corn, and the plough, was called Zeus
Aratrius. To Sedyc, or the just, one of the Ti-
tanides bare Asclepius. Chronus had also in
Peraa three sons : 1. Chronus, his father's name-
sake. 2. Zeus Belus. 3. Apollo/ T«s it Con-
• VOL. XIX.
ceivable that a writer so acute as Porphyry, or
indeed that any man of common sense, would
forge a book filled with such stories as these, to
remove the Christian's objections to the immoral
characters of the Pagan divinities? The suppo-
sition is impossible. Nor is Sanchoniatho here
writing allegorically, and by his tales of Oura-
nos, and Ge, and Chronus, only personifying the
heaven, the earth, and time. On the contrary,
he assures us that Ouranos, or Epigeus, or Au»-
tochthon, was the son of one Eliaun or Hypsis-
tos, who dwelt about Byblus, and that from him
the element which is over us was called heaven,
on account of its excellent beauty, as the earth
was named Ge after his sister and wife. And
his translator is very angry with the Neoteric
Greeks, as he calls them, because that, ' by a
great deal of force and straining, they labored to
turn all the stories of the gods into allegories
and physical discourses.' This proves that the
author of this book did not mean to veil the great
truths of religion under the cloak of mythologic
allegories ; and therefore, if it was forged by Por-
phyry in support of Paganism, the forger so far
mistook the state of the question between him
and his adversaries, that he contrived a book,
which, if admitted to be ancient, totally over-
threw his own cause. The next enquiry with
respect to Sanchoniatho is his antiquity. Did
he really live and write at so early a period as
Porphyry and Philo pretend ? We think he did
not; and what confirms our opinion is that
mark of national vanity and partiality in making
the sacred mysteries of his own country original,
and conveyed from Phoanicia into Egypt. This,
however, furnishes an additional proof that Por-
phyry was not the forger of the work ; for he well
knew that the mysteries had their origin in Egypt
(see MYSTERIES), and would not have fallen into
such a blunder. He is guilty, indeed, of a very
great anachronism, when he makes Sanchoniatho
contemporary with Semiramis, and yet pretends
that what he writes of the Jews is compiled from
the records of Hierombalus the priest of the god
Jao; for Bochart has made it appear highly pro-
bable that Hierombalus or Jerom-baal is the
Jerub-baal or Gideon of Scripture. Between
the reign of Semiramis and the Trojan war a
period elapsed of nearly 800 years, whereas Gi-
deon flourished not above seventy years before
the destruction of Troy. But, supposing San-
choniatho to have really consulted the records of
Gideon, it by no means follows that he flourished
at the same period with that judge of Israel.
His atheistic cosmogony he does not indeed pre-
tend to have got from the priest of Jao, but from
records deposited in his own town of Berytus by
Thoth, a Phoenician philosopher, who was after-
wards king of Egypt. Stillingfleet indeed thinks
it most probable that Sanchoniatho became ac-
quainted with the most remarkable passages of
the life of Jerub-baal from annals written by a
Phoenician pen. He observes that, immediately
after the death of Gideon, the Israelites, with
their usual proneness to idolatry, worshipped
Baal-berith, or the idol of Berytus, the town in
which Sanchoniatho lived ; and from this cir-
cumstance he concludes that there must have
been such an intercourse between the Hebrews
T
SAN
and Borytians, that in process of lime the latter
people might assume to themselves the Jeruh-
haal of the former, and hand down his actions to
posterity as those of a priest instead of a great
commander. All this may b< true ; but, if so, it
amounts to a demonstration, that the antiquity of
Sancboniatho is not so bigh by many ages as
that which is claimed for him by Philo and Por-
phyry, though he may still be more ancient, as
we think Vossiushas proved him to be, than any
other profane historian whose writings have come
down to us, either entire or in fragments. (De
Hist. Grsec. lib. i. c. 1). But, granting the au-
thencity of Sanchoniatho's history, what, it may
be asked, is the value of his fragments, that we
should take the trouble to asceriain whether they
be genuine remains of high antiquity, or the for-
geries of a modem impostor ? We answer, with
the illustrious Stillingrleet, that though those
fragments contain such absurdities as it would
be a disgrace to reason to suppose credible;
though the whole cosmogony is the grossest sink
of atheism ; and though many persons make a
figure in the history, whose very existence may
be doubted ; yet we, who have in our hands the
light of divine revelation, may in this dungeon
discover many excellent relics of. ancient tradi-
tion, which throw no feeble light upon many
passages of Holy Scripture, as they give us the
origin and progress of that idolatry which was so
long the opprobrium of human nature. They
furnish too a complete confutation of the extra-
vagant chronology of the Chaldeans and Egyp-
tians, and show, if they be genuine, that the
world is indeed not older than it is said to be by
Moses. We would therefore recommend to our
readers an attentive perusal of Cumberland's
Sanction iatho.
BANCROFT (William), archbishop of Can-
terbury, was born at Fresingfield, in Suffolk, in
1616; and admitted into Emanuel College,
Cambridge, in 1633. In 1642 he was elected a
fellow ; and, for refusing to take the covenant,
was ejected. In 1660 he was chosen one of the
university preachers ; in 1663 was nominated
dean of York ; and in 1664 dean of St. Paul's.
In this station he began to repair the cathedral,
till the fire of London in 1666 employed his
thoughts on the more noble undertaking of re-
building it, toward which he gave £1400. He
also rebuilt the deanery, and improved the reve-
nue of it. In 1668 he was admitted archdeacon
of Canterbury on the king's presentation. In
1677, being prolocutor of the convocation, he
was promoted to be archbishop of Canterbury.
In 1678 he was committed to the Tower with
six other bishops, for presenting a petition to
king James against reading the declaration of
indulgence. Upon the king withdrawing himself,
he concurred with the lords in a declaration to
the prince of Orange for a free parliament, and
due Indulgence to the protestant dissenters. But,
when that prince and his consort were declared
king and queen, his grace, refusing to take the
oaths, was suspended and deprived. He lived
itely till his death in 1693. Hi* U-arnin-,
integrity, and piety, made him an exalted ornn-
tiient of the church. He puMMu-d n \olume
:.i lv!mo., entitled M a from
SAN
Machiavel, Borgia, and other authors; Familiar
Letters to Mr. North, an 8vo. pamphlet, and
three of his sermons were printed together after
his death.
M TIFY, r.fl.
S \NCTIFICA'TIOX, n. s.
SANC'TIFIER,
SAXCTIMO'XIOTS, adj.
SAXC'TIMOXV, n.s.
SAXC'TITUUE,
IITY,
SAXC'TUARIZE, v. a.
•. UARY, n. s.
Fr. sanctifier; Lat.
sanctifico. To make
holy ; free from sin,
or moral taint ; make
;a means of holint-ss ;
I secure from pollution
or violation : sanctin-
cation and sanctirier
J correspond with the
verb : sanctimonious is having the appearance of
sanctity or sanctitude, which are synonymous,
and signify holiness; goodness; godliness: to
sanctuarize is to shelter under sacred privi!
(obsolete) : a sanctuary is a holy place ; the
most sacred part of a temple or place of worship ;
place of protection ; asylum ; shelter.
For if the blood of bulls, sprinkling the unclean.
sanctijieth to the purifying of the flesh, how much
more shall the blood of Christ! Heb. \\. 13.
The grace of his ianctijication and life, which
first received in him, might pass from him to ln>
whole race, as malediction came from Adam unto all
mankind. -.cr.
The gospel, by not making many things unclean.
as the law did, hath sanctified those things generally
to all, which partirularly each man to himself must
tunctifu by a reveiend and holy use. Id.
Her pretence is a pilgrimage, which holy under-
taking, with most austere sanctimony, she accom-
plished. Sliakfjtearf.
At his touch,
Such sanctity hath heaven given his hand,
They presently amend.
No place indeed should murder tanctuarise.
Come, my boy, we will to tanctuarti.
Oft have I heard of sanctuary men ;
But sanctuary children ne'er 'till now.
There was great reason why all discreet princes
should beware of yielding hasty belief to the robes
of lanctinwnti. Raleigh.
He fled to Beverly, where he and divers of his
company registered themselves sanctuary men.
Bacon's llenrn VII .
Those judgments God hath been pleased to send
upon me, are so much the more welcome, as a means
which his mercy hath sanctified so to me as to make
me repent of that unjust act. King Charles.
In their looks divine
The image of their glorious maker shone,
Truth, wisdom, sanctitude, serene and pure.
Mi/ton.
God attributes to place
No tanctity, if none be thither brought
By men who there frequent. /./.
About him all the sanctities of heav'n
Stood thick as stars, and from his sight received
Beatitude past utt'rance. Id.
They often plac'd
Within his sanctuary itself their shrines. Id.
The bishop kneels before the cross, and devoutly
adores and kisses it : after this follows a long prayer
for the sanciijiratisn of that new sign of the cross.
StWngfteet.
The holy man, amazed at what he saw,
Made haste to sanctify the bliss by law. DnjJm
The admirable works of painting were made fuel
for the fire ; but some reliques of it took sanctuary
under ground, and escaped the common destiny.
LI. Dnfrtsnoy.
Id.
Id
Id.
Id.
SAN
275
SAN
A tanctimonious pretence, under a pomp of form,
without the grace of an inward integrity, will not
serve the turn. L'Estrange.
What are the bulls to the frogs, or the lakes to the
meadows ? — Very much, says the frog ; for he that's
worsted will be sure to take sanctuary in the fens.
Id.
Those external things are neither parts of our de-
votion, or by any strength in themselves direct
causes of it ; but the grace of God is pleased to
move us by ways suitable to our nature, and to
ftmctify these sensible helps to higher purposes.
South.
What actions can express the entire purity of
thought, which refines and sanctifies a virtuous man ?
Addison.
Tt was an observation of the ancient Romans,
that their empire had not more increased by the
strength of their arms than the sanctity of their man-
ners. Id.
Let it not be. imagined that they contribute no-
thing to the happiness of the country who only serve
God in the duties of a holy life, who attend his
stimtutirij, and daily address his goodness.
Roger's Sermons.
To be the sunctijier of a people, and to be their
God, is all one. Derham's Physico-Tlieology.
Truth guards the poet, sanctifies the line. Pope.
SANCTION, n. s. Fr. sanction : Lat. sanctio.
The confirmation which gives to any thing its
obligatory power; ratification.
I have killed a slave,
And of his blood caused to be mixed with wine .
Fill every man his bowl. There cannot be
A fitter drink to make this sanction in. Ben Jonson.
Against the public sanctions of the peace,
With fates averse, the rout in arms resort,
To force their monarch. Dryden's JEneis.
There needs no positive law or sanction of God
to stamp an obliquity upon such a disobedience.
South.
This word is often made the sanction of an oath :
it is reckoned a great commendation to be a man of
honour. Swift.
The satisfactions of the Christian life, in its pre-
sent practice and future hopes, are not the mere rap-
tures of enthusiasm, as the strictest professors of
reason have added the sanction of their testimony.
Watts.
Wanting tanction and authority, it is only yet a
private work. Baker on Learning.
SANCTORIUS, or SANTORIUS, an ingeni-
ous and learned physician, was a professor in the
university of Padua in the beginning of the se-
venteenth century. He contrived a kind of
weighing chair, by means of which, after esti-
mating the aliments received, and the sensible
discharges, he was enabled to determine with
great exactness the quantity of insensible perspi-
ration, &c. On these experiments he erected a
curious system, which he published under the
tkle of De Medicina Statica, of which we have
an English translation by Dr. Quincy. Sancto-
rius published several other treatises, which
showed great abilities and learning.
SANCTUARY, amons the Jews, also called
sanctum sanctorum, or holy of holies, was the
holiest and most retired part of the temple of
Jerusalem, in which the ark of the covenant was
preserved, and into which none but the high
priest was allowed to enter, and that only once
a-year, to intercede for the people. Some dis-
tinguish the sanctuary from the sanctum sancto-
rum, and maintain that the whole temple was
called the sanctuary. To try and examine any
thing by the weight of the sanctuary, is to exa-
mine it by a just and equal scale ; because, among
the Jews, it was the custom of the priests to'keep
stone weights, to serve as standards for regulat
ing all weights by, though these were not at aM
different from the royal or profane weights.
SANCTUARY, in the Romish church, is also
used for that part of the church in which the
altar is placed, encompassed with a rail or ba-
lustrade.
SANCTUS, SANCUS, or SANGUS, a deity of the
Sabines, introduced among the gods of ancient
Rome, by the name pf deus fidius. He was the
father of Sabinus, the first king of the Sabines.
SAND, n. s. 1 Sax. pand; and all the
SAKD'BLIND, adj. northern languages. Par-
SAND'ED, [tides of loam, stone, or
SAND'ISH, (gravelly earth ; in fact,
SAND'STONE, n. s. \ sundered stone : hence
SAND'Y, adj. J barren country covered
with sand : sandblind, having a disease in which
sand, or small matters, appears to fly before the
sight : sanded is, covered with sand ; barren ;
marked with small spots : sandish, loose ; hav-
ing the nature of sand : sandstone, stone that
easily crumbles to sand : sandy, abounding with,
or like, sand ; loose.
Most of his army being slain, he, with a few of
his friends, sought to save themselves by flight over
the desert sands. Knolles.
Here i' the' sands
Thee I'll rake up, the most unsanctified. Sliakspeare.
My true begotten father, being more than sand-
blind, high gravelblind, knows me not.
Id. Merchant of Venice.
My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kind,
So flewed, so sanded, and their heads are hung
With ears that sweep away the morning dew.
Shakspeare.
Safer shall he be on the sandy plains,
Than where castles mounted stand. Id.
Sand hath always its root in clay, and there be no
veins of tund of any great depth within the earth.
Bacon,
Favour, so bottomed upon the sandy foundation of
personal respects only, cannot be long lived.
Bacon to Villiert.
Her sons spread
Beneath Gibraltar to the Libyan sands. Milton.
Engaged with money bags, as bold
As men with sand bags did of old. Hndibras.
A region so desert, dry, and sandy, that travellers
are fain to carry waters on their camels.
Browne's Vulgar Errours.
SAND, CHARLES Louis, student of theology,
who murdered Kotzebue, was born 5th of Octo-
ber, 1795, at Wansiedel, in the Fitchetelgeberge,
where his father held a judicial office. In 1812
he was sent to the gymnasium of Ratislion; in
1814 he entered the university of Tubingen;
and in 1815 joined the Bavarian army, as a
volunteer, against the French. After the peace,
lie pursued his studies at Erlangen, when, in
1817, his most attached friend was drowned in
his presence, without his being able »o render
him any assistance. In the autumn of 1817,
he went to the university of Jena, and became
a member of the Burchenshaft. His soul now
SAN
i>76
SAN
necame animated with that enthusiastic devotion
to wliat he considered the amelioration of his
country, that was then predominant amongst
the youth of Germany. Amongst the writers of
that period who ridiculed the ardour of these
youthful patriots, Kotzebue was the most pro-
minent. Kotzebue also was discovered to be
acting at the instigation of the Russian govern-
ment. Sand, therefore, viewed Kotzebue as the
enemy of his country, and considered that his
duty could only be conscientiously discharged by
the removal of so powerful an enemy to her
liberties. On the afternoon of the 9th of March,
1819, he went to Kotzebue's residence at Men-
heim, delivered him a letter, and whilst he was
reading, stabbed him with a dagger. He passed
down stairs, handed a paper to the servant, in-
scribed, "Death-blow to AugustusVon Kotzebue,"
and hasting into the street, knelt down, and ex-
claimed, " Long live my German father-land."
He next attempted to destioy himself, but was
arrested, tried, and executed on the 20th of
May, 1820. Kotzebue died soon after the mur-
derous attack.
SAND, in natural history, a genus of fossils,
the characters of which are, that they are found
in minute concretions ; forming together a kind
of powder, the genuine particles of which are
all of a tendency to one determinate shape, and
appear regular though more or less complete
concretions; not to be dissolved or disunited by
water, or formed into a coherent mass by means
of it, but retaining their figure in it ; transparent,
verifiable by extreme heat, and not dissoluble in,
nor effervescing with acids. Sands are subject
to be variously blended, both with homogene and
heterogene substances, &c., and hence, as well
as from their various colors, are subdivided into,
1. White sands, whether pure or mixed with
other arenaceous or heterogeneous particles; of
all which there are several species, differing no
less in the fineness of their particles than in the
different degrees of color, from a bright and
shining white, to a brownish, yellowish, green-
ish, &c., white. 2. The red and reddish sands,
both pure and impure. 3. The yellow sands,
whether pure or mixed, are also very numerous.
4. The brown sands distinguished in the same
manner. 5. The black sands whereof there are
only two species, viz. a fine shining grayish-black
sand, and another of a fine shining reddish-black
color. 6. The green kind of which there is only
one known species, viz. a coarse variegated
dusky green sand, common in Virginia. Sand
is of great use in the glass manufacture ; a white
kind of sand being employed for making of the
white glass, and a coarse greenish looking sand
for the green glass. In agriculture it seems to
be the office of sand to make unctuous earths
fertile, and fit to support vegetables, &c. A
vegetable planted only in sand, or in a fat glebe,
or in earth, receives little growth or increase ;
but a mixture of both renders the mass fertile.
Common sand is therefore a very good addition,
by way of manure, to all sorts of clay lands : it
warms them, and makes them more open and
loose.
By the sand from the son-shore many valuable
pieces of land have been entirely lost; of wluVli "»'
give the following instances from Mr. Pennant : ' I
have more than once,' says he, ' on the east coasts of
Scotland, observed the calamitous state of several
extensive tracts, formerly in a most flourishing
condition, at present covered with sands, unstable
as those of the deserts of Arabia. The parish of
Fyvie, in the county of Aberdeen, is now reduced
to two farms. Not a vestige is to be seen of any
buildings, unless a fragment of the church. The
estate of Coubin, near Forres, is another melan-
choly instance. This tract was once worth £300
a-year, at this time overwhelmed with sand.
This distress was brought on about 100 years
ago, and was occasioned by the cutting down,
some trees, and pulling up the bent-star which
grew on the sand hills ; which at last gave rise
to the act of 15 Geo. II. c. 33, to prohibit the
lestruction of this useful plant. The Dutch
perhaps owe the existence of part at least of
their country to the sowing of it on the mobile
solum, their sand banks. Mr. Stillingrleet re-
commended the sowing of this plant on the
sandy wilds of Norfolk, that its matted roots
might prevent the deluges of sand which that
country experiences. It has been already re-
marked that, wheresoever this plant grows, the
salutary effects are soon observed to follow. A
single plant will fix the sand, and gather it into
a hillock ; these hillocks, by the increase of vege-
tation, are formed into larger, till by degrees a
barrier is often made against the encroachments
of the sea; and might as often prove preven-
tative of the calamity in question. The plant
grows in most places near the sea, and is known
to the Highlanders by the name of murah ; to the
English by that of bent-star, matgrass, or mar-
ram. Linnaeus calls it arundo arenaria. The
Dutch call it helm. This plant has stiff and
sharp-pointed leaves, growing like a rush, a foot
and a half long : the roots both creep and pene-
trate deeply into their sandy beds : the stalk
bears an ear five or six inches long, not unlike
rye ; the seeds are small, brown, and roundish.
By good fortune, as old Gerard observes, no
cattle will eat or touch this vegetable, allotted
for other purposes, subservient to the use of
mankind.'
SAND Box TREE. See HURA.
SANDA, or SANDAY, one of the Orkneys,
twelve miles long, and from one to three broad.
Its form is irregular, it is separated from Stron-
say on the south by a channel three miles broad ;
from Eda, or Eday, on the west by a channel of
one mile and a half broad ; and from north Ro-
noldshay on the north by a channel of from one
to two leagues and a half. The surface is flat,
particularly on the east coast, which renders it
subject to inundations during the spring tides,
accompanied with an east wind. The soil is
mixed with sand, but produces good crops, when
well manured with sea-ware ; which abounds
on the coast, and is made into kelp in greater
quantity than in any other island in Orkney.
SAN'DAL, n. $. Fr. tandtile ; I .at. xamlalium.
A loose shoe.
Thus sung the uncouth swain to the oaks and rills.
While still the morn went out with mndtils grey.
A/I./OU
SAN
277
From his robe
Flows light ineffable : his harp, his quiver,
A nd Lycian bow are gold : with golden tandals
Mis feet are shod. Prior.
The sandals of celestial mold,
Fledged with ambrosial plumes, and rich with gold,
Surround her feet. Pope's Odyssey.
The SANDAL, in antiquity, was a rich kind of
slipper worn on the feet by the Greeks and Ro-
mans, made of gold, silk, or other precious stuff;
consisting of a sole, with a hollow at one ex-
treme to embrace the ancle, but leaving the upper
part of the foot bare. It was fastened on with
leather strings, which crossed several times round
the lower part of the leg. Besides these san-
dals, the ancients used also other coverings for
the feet, which, like those of our own day, left
no part bare. Those, indeed, often ascended as
hieh as the ancle, and even the calf of the leg.
The proper term given by the Romans to this latter
article of dress was calceus. These were, how-
ever, generally regarded as troublesome and un-
easy. The wearers took care to provide them of
leather extremely supple, which was termed aluta,
derivative of alumen, alum, that substance being
employed to produce the requisite softness. The
Roman matrons, when assembled on occasions of
solemnity, wore the alutse of white leather : the
courtezans, on the other hand, preferred the
sandal, of elegant shape and handsomely em-
broidered, this not hiding at all the shape of a
pretty foot. For this reason, Ovid, in his Art of
Love, counsels these amiable fair to conceal
their feet, if ill formed, in an aluta of dazzling
white.
SANDAL is also used for a shoe or slipper
worn by the pope and other Romish prelates
when they officiate. It is also the name of a
sort of slipper worn by several congregations of
reformed monks. This last consists of no more
than a mere leathern sole, fastened with latches
or buckles, all the rest of the foot being left bare.
The capuchins wear sandals ; the recollets,
clov«> ; the former are of leather, and the latter
of wood.
SANDARACII GUM is a dry and hard resin,
usually met with in loose granules, of the size
of a pea or a horse-bean, of a pale whitish yel-
low color, transparent, and of a resirrous smell,
brittle, very inflammable, of an acrid and aro-
matic taste, and diffusing a very pleasant smell
when burning. Sandarach is esteemed good in
diar 'lisas and in haemorrhagies. The varnish-
makers make a kind of varnish of it, by dis-
solving it in oil of turpentine or linseed, or in
spirit of wine. That gum sandarach is only
produced from a species of juniper was long a
very common opinion ; but it appears to be a
mistake. The juniperus communis, from which
many have derived this gum, does no! grow in
Africa; and sandarach seems to belong exclu-
sively to that part of the world. The gum san-
darach of our shops is brought from the southern
provinces of Morocco. The tree which pro-
duces it is a Thuia, found also by M. Vahl in
Tunis. It was made known several years ago
by Dr. Shaw, who named it Cypressus fructu
quadnvalvi, Equiseti instar articulatis : but nei-
ther of these learned men was acquainted with
the economical use of this tree; probably be-
cause, being not common in the northern part uf
Barbary, the inhabitants find little advantage in
collecting the resin which exudes from it. M.
Schousboe, who saw the species of thuia in
question, says that it does not rise to more than
twenty or thirty feet at most, and that the dia-
meter of its trunk does not exceed ten or twelve
inches. It distinguishes itself on the first view,
from the two other species of the same genus
cultivated in gardens, by having a very distinct
trunk, and the figure of a real tree ; whereas in
the latter the branches rise from the root, which
gives them the appearance rather of bushes. Its
branches are also more articulated and brittle.
Its flowers, which are not very apparent, show
themselves in April ; and the fruits, which are
of a spherical form, ripen in September. When
a branch of this tree is held to the light, it ap-
pears to be interspersed with a number of trans-
parent vesicles which contain the resin. When
these vesicles burst, in the summer months, a
resinous juice exudes from the trunk and branches,
as is the case in other coniferous trees. This
resin is the sandarach, which is collected by the
inhabitants of the country, and carried to the
ports, from which it is transported to Europe.
It is employed in making some kinds of sealing
wax, and in different sorts of varnish.
SAN DEC, one of the eighteen circles or districts
of Austrian Galicia. It lies in the south-west of
the province, on the borders of Hungary, and is
watered by the Donajetz and the Poprad, the latter
being the only river common to Galicia and
Hungary. It is of irregular form, and contains
1400 square miles, with 195,000 inhabitants.
SANDEMAN (Robert), was born at Perth in
1723, and educated at the university of St. An-
drew's. Becoming a member of the society of
Independents, he in 1757 published a work en-
titled, Letters on Theron and Aspasio, 2 vols.
8vo., in which he attacked the Rev. James
Hervey, author of Theron and Aspasio, in the
most severe terms, and analysed all the most
popular doctrines advanced ;n that work, with
the most satirical criticism. Mr. Sandeman in
1766 went over to America, where a meeting
was erected for him ; but preaching the doctrine
of ' submission to the powers that be,' this did
not suit the spirit of resistance to British tax-
ation which was then becoming daily more po-
pular in the American colonies. He died in
New England in 1772.
SANDEMANIANS, a sect of Independents,
so named from the preceding writer. In Scot-
land they are called Glassites, from their founder
Mr. John Glas, who was a minister rf the esta-
blished church in that kingdom ; but, being
charged with a design of subverting the national
covenant, and sapping the foundation of all na-
tional establishments by the kirk judicatory, "as
expelled by the synod from the church of Scot-
land. His sentiments are fully e^ plained in a
tract published at that lime, enti '< d The Te-ti-
mony of the King of Martyrs, and preserved in
the first volume of his works. In consequence
of Mr. Glas's deposition, in 1728, his adherents
formed themselves into churches, conformable
in their institution and discipline to what they
SAN
278
SAN
apprehended to be the plan of the first churches
recorded in the New Testament. And the pecu-
liar doctrine maintained by them may be learned
from the works of Mr. John Glas, and from
Mr. Robert Sandeman's Letters to Mr. Hervey,
in which he endeavours to show that his notion
of faith is contradictory to the Scripture account
of it, and could only serve to lead men, pro-
fessedly holding the doctrines commonly called
(. 'ah inistic, to establish their own righteousness
upon their frames, inward feelings, and various
acts of faith. In these letters Mr. Sandeman
attempts to prove that faith is neither more nor
less than a simple assent to the divine testimony
concerning Jesus Christ recorded in the New
Testament; and he maintains that the word
faith, or belief, is constantly used by the apos-
tles to signify what is denoted by it in common
discourse, viz. a persuasion of the truth of any
proposition ; and that there is no difference be-
tween believing any common testimony and be-
lieving the apostolic testimony, except that which
results from the nature of the testimony itself.
This led the way to a controversy among those
who were called Calvinists, concerning the nature
of justifying faith ; and those who adopted Mr.
Sandeman's notion of it, and who received the
denomination of Sandemanians, formed them-
selves into church order, in strict fellowship
with the Independent churches in Scotland, but
holding no kind of communion with other
churches. The chief points in which this sect
differs from other Christians are their weekly
administration of the Lord's Supper : their love-
feasts, of which every member is not only al-
lowed but required to partake, and which consist
of their dining together at each other's houses,
in the interval between the morning and after-
noon service; their kiss of charity used on this
occasion at the admission of a new member and
at other times, when they deem it to be neces-
sary or proper; their weekly collection before
the Lord s Supper, for the support of the poor,
and defraying other expenses; mutual exhor-
tation ; abstinence from blood and things strang-
led ; washing each other's feet, the precept con-
cerning which, as well as other precepts, they
understand literally ; community of goods, so
far as that every one is to consider all that he
has in his possession and power as liable to the
calls of the poor and the church ; and the unlaw-
fulness of laying up treasures on earth, by set-
ting them apart for any distant, future, and un-
certain use. They allow of 'public and private
diversions, so far as they are not connected with
circumstances really sinful ; but, apprehending a
lot to be sacred, disapprove of playing at cards,
dice, &c. They maintain a plurality of elders,
pastors, or bishops, in each church ; and the
necessity of the presence of two elders in every
act of discipline, and at the administration of
the I.onl's Supper. In the choice of these elders
second marriages disqualify for the office ; and
they are ordained by prayer and fasting, impo-
sition of hands, and giving the right hand of
fellowship. In their discipline they are stru t
and severe ; and think thenpelves oblis
separate from the communion and wor-hip <>t
al! such religious societies as appr-.u to iiiem
not to profess the simple truth for their only
ground of hope, and who do not walk in obedi-
ence to it.
SAN'DERLING, n. s. Of uncertain origin
A bird.
\Ve reckon coots, sanderlings, pewets, and mews.
(\irfw.
SAN'DERS, n. s. Lat. tantalum. A kind of
Indian wood.
Aromatize it with sanders. Wueman's Surgery.
SAN DEIIS, or SA L x DEUS, in botany. See PTK-
nocAiiprs, and SANTALLM.
SANDERS (Robert), a Scottish author, born
near Breadalbane, in 1727. He went to London,
and compiled, partly from his own survey and
partly from books, a work entitled The Complete.
English Traveller, in folio. He next compiled
The Newgate Calendar. He afterwards became
amanuensis to lord Lyttleton ; and Dr. Johnson
mentions that he was in his lordship's employ-
ment when he wrote his History of Henry 11.
But of all his writings, that which made most
noise was his Gaffer Graybeard, an illil^r-d
work, in 4 vols. 12mo., in which the most emi-
nent dissenting ministers of the age were treat* 'I
with very little ceremony. He died in 1783.
SANDERSON (Robert), F. R. S., a learnt ci
and laborious antiquary, who was usher of the
court of chancery, and clerk of the chapel of the
rolls. He assisted Mr. Ryder in publishing In-
valuable work entitled Foedera; and continued it
after his 'death; beginning with the sixteenth vo-
lume, the title of which says, Ex schedis Thonise
Rymer, potissimum edidit Robertus Sanderson,
1715; and ending with the twentieth, August
21st, 1735. He died December 25th, 1741.
SAND'EVER, n. s. Fr. suindcver. Defined
below.
That which our Enghsn classmen call «/»<..'
and the French, of whom probably the name \\;is
borrowed, suinderer, is that recrement that is made
when the materials of glass, namely, sand, and a tixt
lixiviate alkali, having been first baked together, and
kept long in fusion, the mixture casts up the super-
fluous salt, which the workmen afterwards take off
with ladles, and lay by as little worth. lini/le.
SANDING ISLES, Pulo Sanding, or San-
diang, two small islands off the south-west coast
of Sumatra, near the south-eastern extremity of
the Nassau or Poggy Isles, in which turnup they
are sometimes included. They are inhabited,
and only remarkable for the production of the
long nutmeg, which grows wild ; and some good
timber, particularly of the kind known by the
name of marbaw. An officer and a few men
were landed here in 1769, with a view to the
establishment of a settlement, but the scheme was
subsequently abandoned.
SANDIVER, a whitish salt, continually cast
up from the metal, as it is called, whereof ulass
is made; and, swimming on its surface. i<
skimmed off. Sandiver is also plentifully thrown
out in the eruptions of volcanoes ; some is of a
line white, and others tinned bluish or yelloss ish.
SANDIL'S (Christopher), a celebrated Soci-
nian writer, born at Kouiu^lierj, in Prussia, in
I li>l. lie wrote Nuclei^ UJMon:i> Kcclesiasticae,
and various other works in fas or of his opinions,
and dn d it Amstridum, in 16HU.
SANDWICH ISLANDS.
279
SANDOM1R, a palatinate or province of the
ce\v kingdom of Poland. It is bounded on one
part by the Vistula, on another by the Pilica ;
the rest of the boundary is formed by the palati-
nate of Cracow. Its area is about 4700 square
miles, with 448,000 inhabitants. It abounds in
wood, and has several sandy tracks and marshes,
but in general is of great fertility, and wants only
a skilful and efficient cultivation to render it flou-
rishing. This palatinate has a greater variety of
minerals than is common in Poland. Sandomir
was also the name of a palatinate in the old king-
dom of Poland. It was of considerable extent,
but in 1772 the part to the right of the Vistula
was ceded to Austria.
SANDOMIR, a town in the south of Poland, on
the Vistula, opposite to the influx of the San,
and the chief place of the foregoing palatinate.
In a remote age this was the residence of the
court. At present it is a poor place, and the
houses built of wood.
SANDORICUM, in botany, a genus of the
monogynia order, and decandria class of plants ;
natural order twenty-third, trihillatae : CAL. quin-
quedentate ; petals five, and linear shaped ; nec-
tarium having ten dentoe, on which the antherse
grow ; the fruit is a drupa, and five in number,
each of which has one seed. There is only one
species, viz.
S. Indicum, a native^ of Africa and the East
Indies.
SANDRAT (Joachim), a celebrated German
painter and author, born at Frankfort, in 1606.
He was early sent to a grammar school, but,
showing an inclination for engraving, he was
allowed to follow his own wishes. He went on
foot to Prague, and placed himself with Giles
Sadler, a celebrated engraver, who advised him
to study painting. He accordingly went to
Utrecht, and studied under Gerard Huntorst,
who took him to England, where he staid till
1627. He then went to Venice, where he copied
the paintings of Titian and Paul Veronese ; and
thence went to Rome, where he became eminent,
lie then went to Naples, and thence to Sicily
and Malta, and through Lombardy to Frank-
fort, where he married. The manor of Stokau
having fallen to him, he repaired it at a great
expense, but had hardly got it finished, when it
was burnt by the French. Upon their retreat,
he rebuilt it in a better style than ever ; but, on
the rumor of a second invasion, sold it, and
settled in Augsburg; which, on his wife's death,
he left, and went to Nuremburg, where he set
up an academy of painting. Here he also pub-
lished several volumes on subjects relating to his
profession; the most esteemed of which is, The
Lives of the Painters, with their Effigies ; being
an abridgment of the biographical works of
\ asari, Ridolfi, and Van Mander. He painted
till he was seventy years of age, and died in
1683, aged seventy-seven.
SANDROCOTTUS, an Indian of mean birth,
contemporary with Alexander the Great, who,
from the prodigy of a lion once licking the sweat
from his brow as he was sleeping, prognosticated
future greatness to himself. For impertinence
to Alexander, he had been ordered out of his
presence, but, on the death of that conqueror,
he actually made himself master of a part of the
country in the hands of Seleucus.
SANDSTOM, in mineralogy. See MINERA-
LOGY.
SANDWICH, a borough, cinque port, and
market-town in Eastry hundred, Kent, sixty-
eight miles east by south of London. It contains
three parish churches, and was, previous to the
blocking up of its harbour by the sand, a place
of considerable importance. It was walled and
surrounded by a ditch, and was considered in an-
cient times a place of great strength. The town
is irregularly built, standing on the bank of the
river Stowe ; the streets are narrow and incommo-
dious ; the principal manufactures are those of
ropemaking and shipbuilding. The exports of
Sandwich are grain, flour, seeds, hops, wool,
malt, and feather. The town is governed by a
mayor, recorder, twelve jurats, and twenty-four
common councilmen, and, being the principal
cinque-port, the mayor carries a black knotted
staff, whilst the other cinque-ports are only
allowed white ones. The members belong-
ing to Sandwich are Fordwich, Deal, Rams-
gate, Reculver, Sarre, Stoner, and Walmer. It
sends two members to parliament, who are re-
turned by the corporation and freemen, and it
also gives the title of earl to the family of Mon-
tagu. There is an hospital for six poor men and
as many women, and another for twelve men,
dedicated to St. Thomas ; also two good charity-
schools. In the town-hall is the council chamber
and court-hall, in which half-yearly sessions are
held. Market on Saturday.
SANDWICH, an island of the Eastern seas, op-
posite New Ireland. It is rather low, and co-
vered with trees. Long, of the most westerly
point, 50° 54' 15' E., lat. 2° 59'26'S.
SANDWICH ISLANDS, an interesting group of
islands, consisting of eleven islands, discovered
by captain James Cook in the beginning of the
year 1778, lying between the parallels of 18° 54'
and 22° 15' N., and extending in longitude from
the meridian of 154° 54' to 160° 24' W. They
are called by the natives Qwhyee (Hawaii),
Mowee (Maui), Ranai (Lanai), Morotinnee
(Molokina), Kahowrowee (Kahauraui), Morotoi
(Molokai), Woahoo (Oahu), Atooi (Kauai),
Oneehou (Niihau), Oreehoua (Lihaua orLiihaua),
Tahoora (Kahura).
Hawaii, the easternmost, and by far the largest
of these islands, is of a triangular shape, and
nearly equilateral. 'The angular points make the
north-east and southern extremities. Its greatest
length, which lies in a direction nearly north
and south, is eighty-four miles and a half; its
breadth seventy-two miles ; and it is about 293
miles in circumference. Of the six large dis-
tricts into which this island is divided, Ehidu is
the most healthful and fertile. The chiefs at
Oahu generally speak of its exuberance and
beauty with the liveliest expressions of recol-
lected pleasure, since Hawaii is the birth-place
and cradle of sovereignty. A great part of the
coast presents only a few trees growing out of
the mouldering remains of volcanic eruptions,
and shapeless slags of lava ; but. after ascending
a few hundred feet, the traveller finds himseH
shrouded in a cloud, and amid the soft verduie
280
SANDWICH ISLANDS.
of a moii luxuriant vegetation. The blackcattle,
which were introduced by the circumnavigator,
have multiplied exceedingly ; and there is reason
to believe, from the accounts given by the na-
tives who have penetrated into the central parts of
ihe country, that its recesses contain a store of
vegetables to reward the pains, and inform the
understanding, of the laborious and enlightened
bota-iist. Mauna Roa, or the great mountain, is
estimated to be nearly 16,000 feet high ; a vol-
canic mountain, once the source of superstitious
fears and the engine of priestly bondage, as it
js now the wonder of all who visit Hawaii, and
the w ished-for bower of their toil and travail.
Maui lies at the distance of twenty-four miles
N.N.E. from Hawaii, and is 140 geographical
miles in cirumference. A low isthmus divides
it into two circular peninsulas, of which that to
the east is called Oamadua, and is double the
size of the eastern peninsula called \Vailukee.
Its mountains are so high that, by an optical il-
lusion, their summits appear like hills resting
upon the clouds. Lihaua, the residence of the
princess Nahienaena, and of her missionary tu-
tors, presents a very beautiful landscape when
viewed from the sea, but disappoints the specta-
tor as he approaches the landing place, for want
of a green carpet to conceal the disagreeableness
of a dirty red soil. Captain King remarks that
' this pleasant scene was shortly changed on
advancing a few miles to the westward. The
Sice of the country became totally different, the
shores and sides of the hills had no indications
of being inhabited, and were almost destitute of
vegetable productions.' ' There appeared to be
a rude mass of naked, barren rocks, broken into
deep gulleys, that extended from the mountains
to the sea-side.' — Vancouver.
Lanai is about nine miles distant from Maui,
and lies to the south-west of the passage between
these islands. The country, to the south, is high
and craggy, but the other parts of the islands
present a better prospect.
Oahu lies to the north-west of Molokai, at the
distance of about seven leagues, and is computed
to be about forty miles long, and somewhat less
than eight in width. The highest mountain is
conjectured to be about 4000 feet in height, and
was first ascended by the writer of this paper in
company with several natives and two of the
mission family. The nati'tes mocked their dread
of a monstrous mou or lizard, which superstitious
awe had created and endowed with supernatural
attributes, by charging themselves with the load
of warlike weapons ; and after mou's ascent in-
voked his fancied godship in tones of defiance.
The deep recesses of the mountains are rich in
the varied produce of stately trees and other
vegetable curiosities. A wide extended plain,
called the wilderness of Weuroa, runs obliquely
across the island, and is at least 300 feet above
the level of the sea. Its fertility might, by in-
dustrious means, be turned to a good account.
Between Kahauraui and Maui lies the small un-
inhabited island of Molokina.
Molokai is only seven miles and a half from
Maui, to the north-west; very barren, and nearly
without wood.
Kauai lies to the north-west of Ohau, and is
distant from it about eighty-one miles. The face
of the country to the north-east and north-west
is broken and rugged, but to the south it is more
even ; the hills rise in a gentle slope from the
sea side, and at some distance back are covered
with wood.
Niihau lies fifteen miles to the westward of
Tauai. The eastern coast is high, and rises
abruptly from the sea ; but the rest of the island
consists of low ground, excepting a cliff on the
south-east point. This island produces the best
kind of yams that are to be obtained among the
islands, and the dracaena terminalis, or tea-root
(kii), which yields, by boiling, ^ luscious juice
resembling molasses.
Liihaua, separated from Niihau by a channe.
about a mile in breadth, is of very small extent,
and entirely composed of one barren rock, to all
appearance destitute of soil, and presenting no
indication of ever having been by choice the
residence of human creatures.
Kahura is a low sandy island, and visited only
for the purpose of catching turtle and sea-fowls.
The island of Hawaii was on the 25th of
February, 1794, ceded to Great Britain by
Tamaahamaah, or, according to the present or-
thography, Kamehameha, the king of Hawaii,
who by right of conquest became afterwards su-
preme governor of all the islands, and hence it is
evident that all the Sandwich Islands are, both
by discovery and cession, the property of Great
Britain. This is now the more to be insisted
upon, because the American government, pre-
suming that the islands were autocratical, em-
powered captain Jones ofc the Peacock to ne-
gociate a treaty of neutrality with the natives, in
which it was, among other things, stipulated that,
in the case of a war between Great Britain and
America, any ship should be indemnified by
taking shelter in any of the ports of the Hawaiian
Islands. This treaty was in a very clandestine
manner brought about through the ministry of
some of the American missionaries, who in this
instance seem to have forgotten the nature of
their high calling, and humbled themselves to
become the instruments of a secular, and not
very honest, policy. A desire to blot out the
remembrance of the generosity of Great Britain,
by razing the memorials of her good deeds done
to the islanders, gave occasion, as the writer has
reason to believe, to the following otherwise un-
accountable transaction, of which he was an eye-
witness:— Returning one evening from the c >n-
sul's house to his rooms at Whitehall, the former
residence of the late prime minister Karaimoku
(shortly after the orders of the late king and
queen of these islands had arrived), he was sur-
prised to see all the principal chiefs of the
neighbouring islands assembled round the door
of the sepulchre which had been reared for the
reception of the coffins ; and yet more astonished
on entering to behold one of the coffins just about
to be lowered down into a grave prepared for that
purpose. His presence was immediately announc-
ed by murmurs of the foreigner (tahaure), and they
listened with submission to his admonition, that
charged them with an unaccountable piece of
ungrateful conduct in removing these great
pledges of king George's love, which, in the sen-
SANDWICH ISLANDS.
281
timents of these islanders, are always accounted
sacred. After some consultation the queen,
calling me aside, requested that I would go and
ask the concurrence of Karaimoku, the dying
minister, who, in the laconic style of authority,
said, ' It is enough.' The design was immediately
dropped, and the dead suffered tosleop in peace.
The face of things since the time of Cook has
been completely changed, the clou.c of vermil-
tinctured feathers once worn by the chieftains
has been exchanged for a guise of European
fashion, and the plumy sceptre, or kahele, which
was wont to preqede persons of distinction, is
now displaced by some foreign badge of rank
and office. Instead of the thrilling sound pro-
duced by the combination of various rhythmical
instruments, played in measured cadence to the
movements of a dance which was led in honor
of some tutelary divinity, you hear the curious
recitative of numerous scholars chanting their
lessons, as they are taught to combine the flowing
sounds of their native language into words and
sentences. Nor has the outward garb alone un-
dergone a great change since that period, if we
may judge of the present generation by com-
paring them with a few old men who are the
survivors of the last ; for there has been a great
falling oft in mental activity and manly fortitude.
An observer discovers a certain nobility of dis-
position indicated by the carriage of the elder
race, and a certain frankness of humor, of which
he cannot discern the slightest symptons in their
drowsy-headed offspring who crowd the courts
and dwellings of the chiefs. In the room of en-
gaging in those sports and gymnic exercises
which were once the favorite amusements of his
forefathers, a native, when he has finished the
task which necessity imposes on him, betakes
himself to his mat, and solaces his cares by re-
citing a psalm or portion of sacred scripture,
which the industrious missionary has clothed in
the mother dialect of his willing convert.
An islander looks forward to the time of a
special assembly and examination of the schools
as to a day of general festivity, while all his
thoughts are taken up in providing the best ap-
parel for the occasion, and in repeating his les-
sons that he may merit the public applause of
the chiefs and missionaries. The extraordinary
fondness which these people exhibit for reading
seems to be a phenomenon in the human mind ;
since, from the scantiness of translated matter,
the same lesson is necessarily repeated many
thousand times during the days of preparation
preceding these general meetings : and the in-
tellectual gratifications required must therefore,
on every view of the subject, be but ' a vanishing
quantity.' The allotted hours of labor, the pro-
portional mean between the longest and shortest
spaces of daylight, are not thought sufficient for
the praxis of their palapala or reading, but in
these seasons they borrow freely of the night, so
that, when fever and pain have kept the writer
waking, he has often heard, during the silent
watches of midnight, the disjointed sounds of
murmuring voices. This may however be ex-
plained by having recourse to the superior prin-
ciple, that occupation is as necessary to the
health of the mind, as the stimulus of the non-
naturals is to that of the body, and hence we see
one reason why a preference is given to an exer-
cise that demands so few of our physical ener-
gies.
The government is at present monarchical,
and was at a late period administered by Kaha-
manu, the favorite queen dowager of Tamelvameha,
at whose nod all the chiefs and subordinate go-
vernors tremble. 'All the land is said to be
held in fee by the king or queen regent, who
can take away or bestow it at their pleasure
The aristocratic part of the community let their
lands by a kind of feodal tenure, which obliges
the tenant to render allegiance to his landlord,
and, in time of battle, to repair to his standard ;
who, besides receiving the customary rentage of
half the produce, seldom scruples to take the
fattest of his swine, and the choicest part of his
crop. To remove this great discouragement to
industry, some laws to secure the enjoyment of
property are highly necessary. To aggravate
their miseries, a law was passed some years ago
obliging every man to dispose of this abundance
to foreign ships, &c., by bringing it to the pub-
lic market, where, besides paying the clerk, he
was compelled to surrender half the price to the
king ; but this severe imposition was at the re-
commendation of the English consul taken off;
and, by the abolition of interdictions and various
species of tyranny, they begin to realize some of
the advantages of freedom. We have often ad-
mired the silence and promptitude with which
the orders of the queen were executed ; the
minister who has any particular part of her pro-
perty in charge, or whose business it is to fill
any office of government, -seldom requires more
than the silent expression of the countenance to
interpret the will of his mistress.
They all acknowledge the supremacy of the
English government, and are impatiently waiting
for its interposition and advice in framing a few
laws or maxims for adjusting their disordered
state of affairs. Though there are differences of
opinion as to what rules they ought to be governed
by, and some complaints of the great austerity of
the missionary discipline, yet there is not the
slightest symptom of disturbance. The common
people have sold and forgotten the use of their na-
tive arms ; and the ambition of ruling over others
is displaced by the desire of appearing more
learned, more religious, and better habited, than
their fellow creatures.
In order to train and bring xinder subjection
the humors of the younger people, an absolute
authority over them seems necessary. For where
diet, lodging, and climate tend to foster the con-
cupiscible part of our nature, and the restraints
of legal enactments, custom and example are
scarcely felt ; the cordial draught, mingled by
Circe for the unwary, becomes far more taste-
ful, and its draught attended with less remorse
than in societies where legislation and the judg-
ment of civil courts provide pains and penalties
for transgressors. If we regard individual de-
pravity, the Sandwich islander wrll appear to ad-
vantage over many civilised nations ; but, to
institute a just comparison, we must consider
him in a state of society wherein he will come
very short of an equality with most, there being
282
SANDWICH ISLANDS.
little of what Tully calls communitas, in which
condition each individual member contributes
his quota of benefits, that he may be a joint par-
taker in the common stock of happiness.
The counterpart of the sirens, failed in ancient
story, who have been deemed by some to exist
only in the imagination of poets, may be found
at Oahu, who win not by a voice tuned to en-
chant by melodious warbling, but by the far
more powerful spell of female suasion, that —
O'<mc aicptirj iriXaaii KOI ^Ooyyuiv dtouati
£«OT;V(J»V TV fovri rvvt), fat v//~ta TtKvi
(fucaJSt voffrijaavrt Traptorarat, ovS't jawvrat.
He who was so void of understand ing as to listen
to the pleasing sorcery of their enticements never
after felt any longings after the blandishments of
home, nor the fond caresses of his wife and
children. And it is no uncommon thing to wit-
ness a youth of respectable parentage and hope-
ful parts, allured, on his first visit to Oahu, into
the vortex of sensual delights, and, after reeling
a few jears in dizzy dissip.it ion, snatched away
by a fit of apoplexy, unless he be removed from
inevitable ruin by some forceful interposition.
One would not be inclined to predict that a gen-
tleman, who had been fostered in the bosom of
society, could prefer a life at Oahu, where there
are none of those things which we significantly
call comforts, to his maternal hearth, where they
come unbought and unasked for. But we have
seen instances in which all the advantages and
all the charities of life were exchanged for a
pleasing companion and the delicious liberty of
Honolulu. We have adverted to this effect upon
the minds of foreigners by way of extenuating,
if it can be admitted as an extenuation, the li-
centious habits of a great proportion of the na-
tives, and to give the reader some perception of
the baits which pleasure holds out in a place
wherein a stranger, at the first glance, would not
expect to find such a profusion of her dainties.
Few encomiums can be justly bestowed upon
the moral rectitude and integrity of their minds,
but in spite of degeneracy there have been many,
and still are a few remaining, who in this respect
might be patterns for people of a better educa-
tion. The frequent examples of falsehood and
covenant-breaking arise not altogether from a
malignity of nature, but in some measure from
the want of a customary or intuitive discrimina-
tion of right and wrong, and of consequence the
selfish passions, receiving little or no check from
enlightened reason, are allowed to gain the as-
cendant ; and hence, unless profit be in the pros-
pective, a benefit seldom finds a counterpart in
the mutual good offices of friendly intercourse.
To make a native a present in order to entice
him to engage in any work of utility would be
the most effectual way to baffle the hopes of per-
formance ; and we have been taught by experi-
ence the necessity of deliberating when about
to recompense a servant for his services, whe-
ther we could dispense with his attendance for
several days ; for no sooner was he in possession
of the reward than he presently disappeared to
enjoy it. There is radically in their disposition
a certain waywardness and inclination to play
the truant, the growth of a long-enjoyed free-
dom from established rules of action, which,
order to render them .capable . of discharging
those duties which devolve upon us from the re-
lations of civil and social life, must be cured;
and this cannot be done by any foreigner, whether
priest or layman, \vithout the coercive authority
of some superior chief exerting itself in pursuing
the runnaways to their hiding places, and bring-
ing them back to their fancied hard bondage. All
the experiments we have seen tried or heard re-
lated frustrated the exertions of their foster pa-
rents, except on one who was a girl, confided
to the care of a respectable missionary by a chief
woman of Hawaii, who, as often as the maiden
eloped from confinement despatched her people
in all directions to find out the place of her con-
cealment. The damsel did not, as might have
been expected, retain any resentment, but re-
quited their pains by waiting on her sick master
and mistress unaided, with the most diligent and
loving attention. In the summer of 1827, when
we visited the family, the little maid was still
living with them, and appeared an emblem of
good nature and assiduity. \\e notice this fact,
because, while it illustrates their native disposi-
tion, it encourages the philanthropist to hope
that if the same discipline, grievous indeed for
a time to the child, could be made use of, many
who, without education would be given up to
lasciviousness, might by timely interposition
be retrieved and made to fulfil with applause
those duties which heaven has ordained for our
general benefit.
There is one tiling, independent of a genial
climate, which tends to encourage the promiscu-
ous intercourse of the sexes, namely, on particu-
lar occasions the herding together of many hun-
dreds of both sexes within the confines of one
apartment or dwelling-house, who, during the
time of repose, when they are extended or rather
strewed upon the matting, adjust themselves so
as mutually to serve as pillows for each other,
and by their numerous intersections form such
a species of network as a traveller is seldom in-
dulged with a sight of. Besides there is a cer-
tain roving propensity among the better sort,
especially derived from an old custom of sojourn-
ing but a short season in any province or island
and this practice was, anterior to the port town
of Honolulu becoming the emporium of the
whole group of islands, so prevalent, that these
successive pilgrimages answered the purpose of
a sort of memorial notation for measuring the
time elapsed since the happening of any import-
ant event. But since it is not practicable to
come at all the foreign commodities in so expe-
ditious a manner as at Honolulu, the chiefs who
reside there content themselves by indulging this
hereditarypropensity to peregrinations on a smaller
scale, and with removing to houses newly erected
by themselves or their friends and equals, and
hence the privileges of the host or hostess being
in no respect different from those of the gu
a stranger, on his first visit, finds it difficult to
distinguish the occasional inmates from the ori-
ginal proprietor of the tenement. We have been
told that Tamahnmeha, who subjugated all the
inlands to the yoke of Hawaii, being aware of this
disposition of his subjects, when he had built ;•
SANDWICH ISLANDS.
283
house, levied the toll of a crown upon every
chief and commoner who came to visit him in his
new residence ; but such is the excess of this pe-
culiar species of curiosity and fondness for no-
velty, that I never heard but that this exaction
was cheerfully paid, though money was not at
that time very plentiful among them. In their
intellectual character they sometimes evince a
degree of shrewdness for which an observer, from
a contemplation of some parts of their mental
exertion, would not antecedently be inclined to
give them credit ; to mention an instance or two
which fell under my own notice : — While a nu-
merous circle of natives, whom, at the writer's
departure, he for the first time admitted into his
room, were offering various articles of native art
for sale to one of his brother officers, he remarked
to him that a fisherman was exhorting one with
whom he was in treaty not to lower his demands ;
but the former, guessing the nature of our com-
munication, very gravely told the writer that as
his conversation was addressed to another he had
no business to apply or hear any part of it. A
person who was steward of all the sandal-wood
exported from Oahu was accused of embez-
zling his master's property ; the chief, after re-
flecting a few minutes, said, in reply, ' I know
that this man robs me, but he will not allow
another to do so ; now I know, if I trust you, that
you will not only rob me yourself, but suffer
others to do it.' Nothing can be more complete
than the dominion which the Christians have ob-
tained over their minds, nor any thing surpass
the eagerness which they evince to be better ac-
quainted with the statutes and ordinances of
Holy Writ.
The American missionaries, who have been
chiefly instrumental in changing the features of
these islands, are, in the relative sense of lan-
guage, men of unblemished moral character,
notwithstanding the strange load of calumnies
and obloquy which has been cast upon them 'by
their adversaries ; for none of the many grievous
charges which they had brought against the
missionaries could be made good when they were
convened in a public manner for the specific
purpose of finding them guilty ; and so little
foundation had their railings in trath and verity
that they speedily dropped the cause, and were
fain to change sides with the defendants. The
capital offence which the missionaries have given
to the residents and visitors is by instigating the
chiefs to prevent the intercourse of the unmar-
ried women with foreign suitors, by prohibiting
their going on board the vessels. The moral
character of the missionary is not to be im-
peached because an enlightened judgment does
not always lead him to frame the best schemes
and adopt the most eligible methods for gaining
his purpose. Men of no great learning, and less
acquaintance with secular matters, often en-
deavour to make the general rule efficient with-
out taking into the account those corrections
which the various modifications to which it is
subjected when put in practice might seem to
require. The logic of the missionary teaches
him to argue thus : — ' Hath not the Scripture
Slid it, and shall men presume to add to or take
from that book ?' No : but a divine command-
ment sometimes resolves itself into cue o a
more general influence ; as, for example, that of
•keeping the sabbath holy does into that precept
to show mercy and kindness to all God's crea-
tures. To cut off occasion for cavilling we will
divest their reports of that machinery which
has dignified the progressive issue of the labors,
and briefly sum up the effect of their exertions,
which we think every wise man will allow to be
highly beneficial. They have taught the idolaters,
as far as the instruments of communication
assist them, the unity of the God-head, and the
infinite perfection of the divine attributes, the
scope and design of revelation, and the obliga-
tion of moral virtues. They have fixed the
varying sounds of language in a permanent
orthography, and have instructed the majority of
the natives in the nature and use of these
symbols, so that they can read what is written
and communicate with their friends by means oi
letters ; and, lastly, they have prevented an un-
speakable deal of hard usage by reviving the
primeval law which ordained that man was not
only the head, but the protector of his helpmate.
There is one phenomenon, though familiar to
all, which a traveller in ascending the moun-
tains, if he possesses any relish for the sublime
and beautiful, cannot fail to admire ; this is the
appearance of rainbows in arcs of various
curvatures, hung as it were in the ample void
of the deep valleys below him : sometimes a
thread or two only of the complex twine of
ligh{ curving to the sun's altitude, are spread on
the bosom of a hill ; at others the purpled scarf
of iris, like an oblique zone, partly encircles one
of the lesser mountains, and thence it conies to
pass that this strange imagery, added to other
entertainments of nature, beguile the mind from
regarding the concernments of the body, which
is toiling through black mud and drenching
rains to climb the headlong ascent of some
lofty eminence. In the year 1827, August 18thy
when crossing the wilderness of Wairoa, we
witnessed a rainbow which seemed best fitted to
make the way-faring man turn aside and wonder
at the bright enchantment; the primary bow
appeared like a solid arch, with its two ends
resting on the plain a few paces from us, and
was strengthened by three supernumerary red
arches of unusual splendor ; the secondary bow
was not complete, but had one supernumerary
arch. This glorious apparition appeared to a
lively imagination calculated to afford a glimpse
at a similitude of those transcendant spectacles
described by St. John and the prophet Ezekiel.
The frequent showers which fall in the higher
parts of this island are to be ascribed to the
trade wind, which brings along with it a mass
of vapors. These being impelled by the current
of air are, in order to surmount the obstruction
of the interposing ridges, obliged to ascend into
a region of less relative heat and density, where
the atmosphere, being unable to hold the vapory
particles any longer in solution, sheds them
upon the brows of the highest mountains.
Die.l. — The vegetable called poe may be
justly said to be the staff of life, and to
an-iver the purpose of bread among us. This
is made by first roasting and then macerating
28*
SANDWICH ISLANDS.
the roots of the taro till they can be reduced by
kneading and the gradual admixture of water to
a pulpy solution, winch, after it has remained in
calabashes a few hours to acquire of fermenta-
tion a slight degree of acidity either with or
without a little animal food, forms the »tay of a
Sandwich islander's diet. The nauseous custom
of eating dogs is very much tempered in the
imagination by observing in what manner the
animal is nurtured, that it never goes abroad
without being carried, and that it eats of the
same morsel and drinks out of the same cup as
its mistress. The flesh is thus rendered more
wholesome and palatable than that of the swine,
whose feeding is not half so delicate. Modern
cookery has not devised a method more simple
or more effectual for dressing meat, without
hardening the muscular fibre or dissipating the
savory juices, than the custom used from time
immemorial of wrapping up the flesh in the suc-
culent leaves of the taro, and submitting it to the
action of heated stones in an oven hollowed out
of the ground. This viand, when served up with
the vegetable sauces, is called luau.
We may specify the following as the principal
productions of these islands: — 1. Oliia, me-
trosideros, a species in which this country is
comparatively rich, are distinguished by some
adjunctive epithet importing their respective
uses or properties. 2. Ohia-ai, or edible ohia,
which, instead of the capsules borne by the rest
of the genus, yields a pear-shaped fruit of a very
mild and juicy nature. This is a tree of pecu-
liar beauty and stateliness, and the large dark
green leaves are strikingly set off by the bunches
of red flowers which are followed by clusters of
fruit -garnishing the lower part of the branches in
rosy prufusion. 3. Pilo, a species of capparis,
bearing a large white flower singly from the
bosoms of alternate, smooth, elliptical leaves,
and an oblong yellow berry. 4. Limii, a gene-
ral name for the submarine productions of that
part of cryptogamous botany called algae, but
particularly of the various species of fucus
which are made into saline pickles, and are very
much relished by them ; a peculiar sort called
kala is the most esteemed. Every species has
its appropriate name. 5. Kukut, aleurites tn-
bloba, or candle-nut tree. The hoary foliage of
this tree diversifies the hills with the appearance
of white patches. The nuts, when divested of
their integuments, were formerly set in order
upon a sharp stick, and burnt in the room of
candles. They also yield by expression an oil
that has the practical uses of linseed oil. 6. Ko,
corelia sebestena, a large shady tree which grows
by the sea side. This genus is chiefly charac-
terised by having a divided style, which, with its
globular stigmata, resembles the figure of that
kind of ancient scourge called scorpions. 7. Ko,
saccharum, the sugar-cane, which grows wild on
the banks of rivulets, has, by cultivation, been
modified into at least twenty varieties, dis-
tinguished from one another by the color of the
stem, sheath, and midrib of the leaf, and ahe
variations of its surface. Were industry as
kind to this people as nature is in the production
of this plant, the making of sugar might be
made a manufacture of great importance to them.
8. Ka, a species of cyperus, the root of which
affords a gluey substance, used in glazing and
scenting their native cloth. The odor is of such
a narcotic nature that, if a piece of cloth treated
in this way be allowed to remain in a close room,
it is apt to affect the person who inhabits it
with an intolerable sickness, which continues
till the offensive material is removed. 9. Hapu,
cibotiumchamoisai, the ark-formed, distinguished
from the Dicksonia by the determinate figure and
cartilaginous nature of its capsules, which are a
stem of that genus seated upon the margin of the
frond. From a stock of about a foot high usually
issue several doubly winged fronds; this is
crowned with convolute bundles of brownish
silk, which was formerly made into pillows and
cushions. The hapu is sometimes roasted and
eaten ; but, from the admixture of woody matter,
is not very nutritious, nor very easy of digestion.
10. le, climbing pandanus, the leaves at the top
of the branch expand and form a cup-like re-*
ceptacle for the fruit, which, by the absorption
of oxygen, change to an acetous pulp. This, as
well as the ripening berries, with which branched
spikes are closely studded, is greedily devoured
by the little birds. The stem is about an inch in
diameter, sending forth many radicles, which
attach themselves to, and imbibe, the juices of
the larger trees, particularly the mimosa, hetero-
phylla, or hoa. The tree, being robbed of its
nutriment, after a few years begins to show
signs of decay, becomes stag-headed, and ulti-
mately dies. 1 1 . Thoa, mimosa heterophylla, re-
markable for the transformation of its leaves.
This alienation is accounted for by supposing
that the plastic substance provided by nature for
the leaf is appropriated by the leaf-stalk ; for, in
the younger trees, it may be traced from an in-
cipient winged expansion, till it ends in a single
uniform leaf, at which time, the power of further
vegetation being exhausted, the numerous leaflets,
following an inverse ratio in number and size ;
disappear. The wood of this tree is very useful
in the construction of canoes. 12. Thi, the
oxalis and marsilea quadrifoliata, which latter
genus is characterised by having a receptacle
rising from the root, and forming a box, which
contains many rows of capsules, separated by the
doublings of a subtile membrane. The roots of
this water plant, by their mode of propagation,
weave a kind of net-work, which we have seen
the chief women convert into a scarf, and wear
about their necks and shoulders. 13. Orana, a
shrub belonging to the family of the urtica;, be-
longing to the genus morens, furnishes, from the
woody fibres of the bark, a fine material for the
making of cordage. 14. Ahuhu, tephosia pirca-
toria, the bark used for poisoning fish. 15.
Vthi, a species of grasshopper roasted and eaten.
16. Iriiahi, somtolum or sanders wood, an im-
portant article of commerce with China, but, like
other sources of national wealth which are not
the gradual result of honest industry, has, by
inducing an over-confident hope in the ade-
quacy of their means, brought upon the unwary
people a huge mass of debts, of which, unless they
continue to pursue the plan proposed by his Bri-
tannic majesty's consul, in erection of a poll tol!
they will not speedily disencumber themselves.
SANDWICH ISLANDS.
285
Pastimes. — It has been already hinted that
scarcely any remnant of their elder games and
exercises are now left to give the traveller some
notion of past times, and hence, if a rare accident
does not favor him, he must learn their nature
from the relations of the old people. Pohinehine
is a game of chance, wherein several folded
pieces of native cloth are severally placed before
each player ; a man then dexterously passes his
hand under every one of them, containing a stone,
which is hidden beneath a different parcel each
time, while each competitor in his turn strikes
with a wand, at a venture, any one of them.
After ten rounds, the game is decided in favor
of him who has struck the lucky parcel of cloth
the greatest number of times. Wawaiule is a
species of dichotomous, or club-mess, lycopo-
dium. Akakamoa, the denomination of a game
formerly played by two chiefs, with the dichoto-
mies of the branches mutually hooked within
each other ; the gamester whose fork, in pulling
them asunder, first broke, lost his wager. Moko-
moko, or boxing-matches, consecrated to the
memory of Olono, a certain deity who was be-
lieved to have vouchsafed his presence under the
form of captain Cook. The people of two neigh-
bouring districts used to assemble on their bor-
ders when these games were about to be celebrated.
A ring being formed, an athlete would, like Dares
TEneid, v. 376, bare his broad shoulders, and,
with uplifted arms alternately, provoke the yield-
ing air a few moments, and then retire ; one
from the opposite side would follow his example;
and this exhibition, by turns of the candidates
for renown, continued till the eyes of some well-
matched pair had singled out each other. A fall,
or turning the back upon the antagonist, decided
the" combat.
Language. — One general language is extended
over all die islands, which are comprehended
under the name of Polynesia, subject to a peculiar
dialectical rariation in each particular group,
with occasional mixture of words which, from
their anomalous form, seem to have been bor-
rowed from different sources. In the first primer
that was printed by the missionaries their dia-
lect is made to embrace seventeen elementary
sounds ; but, since the natives confound in their
articulation the elements D T K, R L, B P, with
each other, it appeared expedient to a council of
missionaries, in order to prevent an embarrassing
variation in the orthography of the natives, to
retrench the superfluous letters, and reduce the
number of simple sounds to twelve. But since
the U, like W, sometimes assumes the power of
a consonant, there seems to be no reason why it
ought to be retained.
The orthography is precisely the same as that
adopted from the Sanscrit by professor Lee in
the compilation of the New Zealand grammar.
The dialects of Hawaii and New Zealand differ
chiefly in the presence of nasal sounds in the latter.
A short acquaintance with their analogies shows
how near such words as New Zealand, Tangata,
and Tanata, as the word Kanaka is often heard.
The vocal organs of a Sandwich islander, without
Jong training, find it impossible to articulate the
^arsh combinations of consonantal sounds of
•>ur language ; but his ear can nicety discrimi-
nate the appropriate sound of each vowel and
diphthong. They never amalgamate two conso-
nants, a mute and a liquid, as we do in the syl-
lable bri in Britain, but usually insert a sheva,
or short vowel sound, to soften the utterance,
and pronounce that word as if it were written
Perikane. The affinity of the Polynesian lan-
guage with the Malayan has been pointed out by
Mr. Marshman in his grammar of that tongue,
and its etymological relationship to the Hebrew
did not escape the notice of the propagators of
the gospel ; and, during the author's stay at Oahu,
he observed several instances in words and phrase-
ology. To give our readers some notion of the
softness and flowing sweetness of this dialect, we
will select a distich from a hymn composed by
the missionaries, in which the Indians call upon
their hearts to rejoice that the love of God has
visited them. It is read nearly as if it were
Italian: —
Ua iki mai nei ke kanawai mau
Ke hauoli nei ko kakou naau.
SANDWICH LAND, a name given by Cook to
the southerly land which he discovered in the
South Atlantic Ocean, otherwise called Southern
Thule.
SANDY DESERT, a name given byway of emi-
nence to an extensive tract of Hindostan, in the
province of Gujerat, where the army of the cele-
brated Mahmoud of Ghizne was nearly lost.
After the taking of the temple of Diu, in the year
1025, one of the priests offered himself as a guide
to the sultan ; and, having purposely led them into
the heart of this desert, boasted of his success,
on which he was instantly put to death.
SANDY HOOK, an island of the United States
on the coast of New Jersey, in the township of
Middleton, seven miles south of Long Island,
and twenty-five south of New York. It was for-
merly a peninsula. Sandy Hook, or Point, forms
a capacious harbour, where is a light-house on
the north point of the Hook, in long. 72° 2' \\ .,
lat. 40° 26' N.
SANDY LAKE, a lake of North America, near
the source of the Mississippi, twenty-five miles
in circumference. Of the numerous rivers run-
ning into it, one is entitled to particular atten-
tion, viz. the Savannah, which, by a portage of
three miles and three quarters, communicates
with the river St. Louis, which flows into the
Lake Superior, at the Ford de Lac, and is the
channel by which the North-west company bring
all their goods for the trade of the Upper Mis-
sissippi. The rigor of the climate is extreme
here. Lat. 46° 9' 20' N.
SANDY LAKE RIVER, a large but short river
of the United States, which falls into the Mis-
sissippi. It connects the lake of the same name
with the Mississippi, by a strait only six miles
in length.
SANDY RIVER, BIG, a river of the United
States, which rises in the Laurel mountains, Hs
sources interlocking with those of the Cumber-
land, Clinch, Kenhaway, Kentucky, and Lick-
ing. It forms part of the boundary between Vir-
ginia and Kentucky, running N.N.W. into the
Ohio, forty miles above the Scioto. It has a
course of about 130 miles, and at its mouth is
200 yards wide.
SAN
286
SAN
SANDY RIVF.R, LITTLE, a river of the United
States, in Kentucky, running into the Ohio,
twt-nty miles below Bisj Sandy.
SANDY'S (Edwin), 1). D., and archbishop of
York, an eminent English prelate, and zealous
reformer, born at liawkshead, in Lancashire, in
1519. He was educated at St. John's College,
Cambridge, where he graduated. About 1547
he was chosen master of Catherine Hall, and, in
1553, vice-chancellor of the university. Having
early embraced the Protestant religion, he, on the
death of king Edward VI., zealously espoused
the cause of lady Jane Gray ; preached a sermon
in favor of her title, and even printed it. Two
days after, being ordered to proclaim queen
Mary, he refused, and was thereupon deprived
of all his preferments, and sent prisoner to the
Tower, where he lay above seven months, and
was then removed to the Marshalsea. He was
afterwards liberated ; but bishop Gardiner, hear-
ing he was an incorrigible heretic, made strict
search after him. The doctor escaped, however,
in May 1554, to Antwerp, and thence went to
Augsburg, and Strasburg, where he remained
for some time. In 1558 he went to Zurich, and
lodged five weeks with Peter Martyr, with whom
he maintained an intimate correspondence ever
after. On queen Mary's death he returned to
England, January I Oth, 1558-9. In March he
was appointed, by queen Elizabeth, one of the
nine Protestant divines to dispute with nine
Roman Catholics before the parliament. He
was also appointed one of the commissioners
for preparing the Liturgy. He was then
made bishop of Worcester, and, being well
skilled in the dead languages, he was, in 1565,
one of the bishops appointed to make a new
translation of the Bible; and he accordingly
translated the books of Kings and Chronicles.
In 1570 he was appointed bishop of London,
and in 1571 assistant to the archbishop of Can-
terbury, in the commission against papists and
puritans. In 1576 he was promoted to be arch-
bishop of York. In his zeal against the papists
he was very severe. He died July 10th, 1588,
aged sixty-nine. He was twice married. By
his second wife Cecilia, daughter of Sir Thomas
Wilford, of Hartridge, in Kent, he had seven
sons and two daughters.
SANDYS (George), was born in 1577. He
travelled over several parts of Europe and the
east ; and published an account of his journey
in folio, in 1635. He made an elegant transla-
tion of Ovid's Metamorphoses ; and composed
some poetical pieces of his own, that were greatly
admired. He also paraphrased the Psalms; and
left behind him a Translation, with Notes, of a
Sacred Drama written by Grotius, entitled Chris-
tus Patiens ; on which, with Adamus Exul, and
Masenius, was founded Lauder's impudent charge
of plagiarism against Milton. See LAUDER. He
became one of the privy chamber to Charles I.,
and died in 1643.
SANGALLAN, or CAPE GALLAN, the Can-
gallan of British seamen, is situated on the coast
of Peru, N.N.W. of the island of Lobos, and
three miles north-west < if Curette island- On -its
south side is a good harbour, frequented by the
coasting ships from Panama ami Lima.
SANGAY, a volcanic mountain of South
America, in the province of Quixos and Macas
Quito. It rises to the height of 16,122 feet, and
its north side is constantly covered with snow.
From its summit, flames, smoke, and calcined
matter, are seen continually to burst 'forth, ac-
companied with explosions, which are heard at
Quito, 135 miles distant. The country adjacent
is rendered totally barren by its incessant action.
SANGARIS, or SANGARIUS, in ancient geo-
graphy and mythology, a river of Phrygia rising
in Mount Dindymus, and falling into the Euxine.
The god of this river was fabled to have been
the father of Hecuba, queen of Troy ; and she
became pregnant of Altes, by gathering boughs
of an almond tree on its banks.
SANGIAC, in the Turkish polity, the gover-
nor of a province. Hence also the province so
governed : it was particularly used in Egypt,
which was divided into twenty-four sangiacs.
SAN GUI, an oblong island in the eastern
seas, between thirty-six and forty miles in length,
and between ten and fifteen miles in breadth. It
extends in a direction N.N.W., and is broadest
towards the north ; towards the south it has se-
veral good bays, and is said to be surrounded
by forty-six smaller islands of various dimen-
sions. The coast has better harboilrs, and is less
dangerous from hidden rocks and shoals, than
most of the eastern islands. The island is well
wooded and inhabited, and affords refreshments
of all kinds. Spices are also procured, \\iili
which a trade is carried on to Magindanao. The
principal town and bay are about the middle of
the west coast, and called Taroona, in lat. 3° 28'
N., long. 125° 44' E.
SANGUIF'EROUS, adj.
SANGUIFICA'TION, «. s.
Fr. sangiiin ;
Lat. sanguifer,
sanguis. Con-
veying blood :
'Sanguification is
the product! n of
blood : sanguifier,
a producer of
blood : to san-
SAN'GUIFIER,
SAN'GUIFY, v.a.
SAN'GUINARY, adj.
SAN'GUINE, adj.
SAN'GUINENESS,'«.*.
SANGUIN'ITY,
SANGUIN'EOUS, adj.
guify, to produce blood : sanguinary, bloody ;
cruel ; murderous (always used in a bad sense) :
sanguine, as a noun substantive, means blood
color : as an adjective, red ; having the color of
blood ; cheerful ; ardent ; abounding with blood :
sanguineness and sanguinily, heat; ardor; con-
fidence : sanguineous, constituting blood, 01
abounding in blood.
A griesiy wound,
From which forth gushed a stream of gore, blood
thick,
That all her goodly garments stained around,
And in deep sanguine dyed the grassy ground.
Faerie Queeite.
This fellow
Upbraided me about the rose I wear ;
Saying, the sanguine colour of the leaves
Did represent my master's blushing cheeks.
SJiaktpfaart.
Rage, or phrensy, it may be, in some perhaps na
tural courage, or f«?yi/!»fnr.<s of temper in others ;
but true valour it is not, if it knows not as well l>
suffl-r as to do. That mind is truly great, and only
that which stands above the power of all extiinsi
SAN
2S7
SAN
violence; which keeps itself a distinct principality,
independent upon the outward man.
Decay of Piety.
The scene is now more sangniiuirv, and fuller of
ictors : never was such a confused mysterious civil
war as this. Howel.
A stream of nec'trous humour issuing flowed
Sanguine. Milton.
At the same time I think, I command : in inferior
faculties, I walk, see, hear, digest, sanguify, and car-
nify, by the power of an individual soul. Hale.
The choleric fell short of the longevity of the san-
guine. Browne.
This animal of Plato containeth not only sangui-
neous and reparable particles, but is made up of
veins, necves, and arteries. Id. •
Dire Tisiphone there keeps the ward,
Girt in their sanguine gown. Dryden.
Though these faults differ in their complexions as
sanguine from melancholy, yet they are frequently
united. Government of the Tongue.
Bitters, like choler, are the best sanguifiers, and
also the best febrifuges. Flouer on the Humours.
Since the lungs are the chief instrument of smigui-
fication, the animal that has that organ faulty can
never have the vital juices, derived from the blood,
in a good state. Arbuthnot.
A plethoric constitution, in which true blood
abounds, is called sanguineous. Id.
The fifth conjugation of the nerves is branched to
the muscles of the face, particularly the cheeks,
whose sanguiferous vessels it twists about.
Derham 's Phytico- Tlieology..
A set of sanguine tempers ridicule, in the number
of fopperies, all such apprehensions. Swift.
I very much distrust your sanguinity. Id.
Passion transforms us into a kind of savages, and
makes us brutal and sanguinary. Broome.
SANGUINARIA, in botany, blood-wort, a
genus of the monogynia order, and polyandria
class of plants ; natural order twenty-seventh,
rhceadeae ; COR. octopetalous : CAL. diphyllous;
the siliqua ovate and unilocular. There is only
one species, viz.
S. ('anadensis, a native of the northern parts
of America, where it grows plentifully in the
woods ; and in spring, before the leaves of the
trees come out, the surface of the ground is in
many places covered with the flowers which
have some resemblance to our wood anemone ;
but they have short naked pedicles, each sup-
porting one flower at top. Some of these flowers
will have ten or twelve petals, so that they ap-
pear to have a double range of leaves, which has
occasioned their being termed double flowers ;
but this is only accidental, the same roots in -dif-
ferent years producing different flowers. The
plant will lu-ar the open air in this country, but
should be placed in a loose soil and sheltered
situation, not too much exposed to the sun. It
is propagated by the roots ; which may. be taken
up and parted, in September, every other year.
The Indians paint themselves yellow with the
juice of these plants.
SANGriSOKBA, in botany, greater wild
biimet, a genus of the monogynia order, and te-
Iniiidria class of plants; natural order fifty-fourth,
miscellaneae : CAL. diphyllous ; germen situated
betwixt the calyx and corolla. The most re-
markable species is —
S. ofh'cinalis, with oval spikes. This grows
naturally in moist meadows in many parts of
Britain. The stalks rise from two to three feet
high, branching towards the top ; and are ter-
minated by thick oval spikes of flowers of a
grayish brown color, which are divided into four
segments almost to the bottom. These are suc-
ceeded by four oblong cornered seeds. The
leaves of this sort are composed of five or six
pairs of lobes placed along a midrib, terminated
by an odd one. These are heart-shaped, deeply
dentated on their edges, and a little downy on
their under sides. The cultivation of this plant
has been greatly recommended as food to cattle.
SANIlEDRIM,orSANHEDRrN,Heb.pnnjD,
was the name whereby the Jews called the great
council of the nation, assembled in an apartment
of the temple of Jerusalem, to determine the
most important affairs both of their church and
state. .This council consisted of seventy sena-
tors. The room they met in was a rotunda, half
of which was built without the temple, and half
within; that is, one semicircle was within the
compass of the temple, the other semicircle was
without, for the senators to sit in, it being un-
lawful for any one to sit down in the temple.
The nasi, or prince of the sanhedrim, sat upon a
throne at the end of the hall, having his deputy
at his right hand and his sub-deputy on his left.
The other senators were ranged in order on each
s-ide. The rabbins assert that the sanhedrim has
always subsisted in their nation from the time of
Moses down to the destruction of the temple by
the Romans. See Grotius's Commentaries, and
his book De jure Belli et Pacis, lib. i. c. 3, art.
20, and Selden de Synedriis veterum Hebraeo-
rum; also Calmet's Dissertation on the Polity
of the ancient Hebrews, before his Comment
upon the Book of Numbers. As to the qualifi-
cations of the judges, their birth was to be un-
tainted. They were often taken from the race
of the priests or Levites, or out of the number
of the inferior judges, or from the lesser sanhe-
drim, which consisted only of twenty-three
judges. They were to be skilful in the law, tra-
ditional and written. Eunuchs were excluded
from the sanhedrim, usurers, decrepit persons,
players at games of chance, such as had any bo-
dily deformities, those that had brought up
pigeons to decoy others to their pigeon-houses,
and those that made a gain of their fruits in the
sabbatical year. Some also exclude the high-
priest and the king, because of their power ; but
others insist that the kings always presided in
the sanhedrim, while there were any kings in
Israel. Lastly, the members of the sanhedrim
were to be of a mature age, a handsome person,
and of considerable fortune. Such at least are
the requisites mentioned by the rabbins. The
authority of the great sanhedrim was, according
to these authors, very extensive. This council
decided such causes as were brought before it
by appeal from the inferior courts. The king,
the high-priest, the prophets, were under its ju-
risdiction. If the king offended against the law,
if he kept too many horses, if he hoarded up too
much gold and silver, the sanhedrim, according
to these rabbins, had him stripped and whipped
in their presence. But whipping among the
Hebrews was not ignominious ; and the king
is said to have borne this correction by way
SAX
288
SAN
of penance, and himself made choice of the
person that was to exercise this discipline.
The general affairs of the nation were also
brought before the sanhedrim. The right of
judging in capital cases belonged to this court,
and this sentence could not be pronounced in
any other place but in the hall called Laschat
haggazith, or the hall paved with stones, supposed
by some to be the A»0o<Tp«roc, or pavement,
mentioned in John xix. 13. Hence the Jews
were forced to quit this hall when the power of
life and death was taken out of their hands,
forty years before the destruction1 of their tem-
ple, arid three years before the death of Jesus
Christ In the time of Moses this council, say
the rabbies, was held at the door of the taber-
nacle of the testimony. As soon as the people
were in possession of the land of promise, the
s uihedrim followed the tabernacle. It was kept
successively at Gilgal and Shiloh, at Kirjath-
jearim, at Nob, at Gibeon in the house of Obed-
edom; and, lastly, it was settled at Jerusalem
till the Babylonish captivity. During the cap-
tivity it was kept up at Babylon. After the return
from Babylon it continued at Jerusalem to the
time of the Sicarii or Assassins. Then, finding
that these profligate wretches whose number in-
creased every day sometimes escaped punish-
ment by the favor of the president or judges, it
was removed to Hanoth, which were certain
abodes, situated, as the rabbies tell us, upon the
mountain of the temple. Thence they came
down into the city of Jerusalem, withdrawing
themselves by degrees from the temple. After-
wards they removed to Jamnia, thence to Jeri-
cho, to Uzza, to Sepharvaim, to Bethsanim, to
Sephoris, last of all to Tiberias, where they con-
tinued to the time of their utter extinction.
This is the account which the Jews give us of
the sanhedrim. But the learned do not agree
with them in all this. F. Petau fixes the date of
tht> first sanhedrim, when Gabinius was governor
of Judea, who, according to Josephus, erected
tribunals in the five principal cities of Judea;
Jerusalem, Gadara, Aniathus, Jericho, and Se-
phora or Sephoris, in Galilee. Grotius places
the origin of the sanhedrim under Moses, as the
rabbies do ; but he makes it terminate at the
beginning of Herod's reign. Basnage places it
under Judas Maccabaeus, or his brother Jona-
than. We see, indeed, under Jonathan Macca-
baus, that the senate with the high-priest sent
an embassy to the Romans. The rabbies say
that Alexander Jannaeus, king of the Jews, ot
the race of the Asmonoeans, appeared before the
sanhedrim, and claimed a right of sitting there,
whether the senators would or not. Josephus
informs us that, when Herod was but yet go-
vernor of Galilee, he was summoned before the
senate, where he appeared. It must be therefore
acknowledged that the sanhedrim was in being
before the reign of Herod. It was in being
afterwards, as we find from the gospel and from
the Acts. Jesus Christ, in St. Matthew (v. 22),
distinguishes two tribunals. ' Whosoever is
angry with his brother without a cause shall be
in danger of the judgment.' This, they say, N
the tribunal of the twenty-three judges. ' And
whosoever shall say to his brother, Raca shall
be in danger of the council ;' that is, of the great
sanhedrim, which had the right of life and death,
at least generally, and before this right was taken
away by the Romans. See Mark xiii. 9, xiv. 55,
xv. 1 ; Luke xxii. 52. 66 ; John xi. 47; Acts iv.
15, v. 21, where mention is made of the syne-
drion or sanhedrim. The origin of the sanhe-
drim is involved in uncertainty ; for the council
of the seventy elders established by Moses was
not what the Hebrews understand by sanhedrim.
Besides we cannot perceive that this establish-
ment subsisted either under Joshua, the judges,
or the kings. We find nothing of it after the
captivity, till the time of Jonathan Maccaba>'is.
The tribunals erected by Gabinius were very
different from the sanhedrim, which was the su-
preme court of judicature, and fixed at Jeru-
salem ; whereas Gabinius established" five at five
different cities. Lastly, this senate was in being
in the time of Jesus Christ ; but it had no
longer then the power of life and death. John
xviii. 31.
SANICULE, SANICCLA, or self-heal, in
botany, a genus of the digynia order, and petan-
dria class of plants ; natural order forty-fifth,
umbellatae. The umbels are close together,
almost in a round head ; the fruit is scabrous ;
the flowers of the disk abortive. There are three
species, viz.
1. S. Canadensis, sanicle of Canada.
2. S. Europaea, European self-heal ; and, 3.
S. Maralandica, the sanicle of Maryland ; all of
which are found in many parts both of Scotland
and England. These plants were long celebrated
for healing virtues, but are now disregarded.
SA'NIES, n. s. Lat. sanies. Thin matter ;
serous excretion.
It began with a round crack in the skin, without
other matter than a little unites. U'ite'nun.
Observing the ulcer sanwus, I proposed digestim.
as the only way to remove the pain. Id.
But bolder grown, at length inherent found
A pointed thorn and drew it from the wound.
The cure was wrought ; he wiped the saniou* blood.
And firm and free from pain the lion stood. ( Vir/vr.
SANIES, in surgery, is a serous putrid matter,
issuing from wounds. It differs from pus, which
is thicker and whiter.
SANITY, n. 5. Lat. sanitos. Soundness of
mind.
How pregnant, sometimes, his replies are !
A happiness that madness often hits on,
Which unity and reason could not be
So prosperously delivered of. Shaktptare. Hamlet.
SANNAZARIUS (James), a celebrated Latin
and Italian poet, born at Naples in 1458. He
ingratiated himself into the favor of king Fre-
derick; and, when that prince was dethroned,
attended him into France, where he staid with
him till his death, which happened in 1504.
Sannazarius then returned into Italy, where he
applied himself to polite literature, and parti-
cularly to Latin and Italian poetry. His gay
and facetious humor made him sought for by all
companies ; but he was so afflicted on hearing
that Philibert, prince of Orange, general of the
emperor's army, had demolished his country
house, that it threw him into an .ilness, of which
he died in 1530. He wrote a great .umber or
SAN
289
SAN
Italian and Latin poems : among those in Latin
liis Dt Partu Yirginis and Eclogues are chiefly
esteemed ; and the most celebrated of his Italian
pieces is his Arcadia.
SAN-PIETRO, or SAMPIERO, called also Bas-
tilica, from Hastia, in Corsica, his birth-place,
SANSANDING, a large town of Central
Africa, in the state of Bambarra. It is situated on
the Niger, and has a considerable trade, parti-
cularly in salt. The market-place is an extensive
square, constantly crowded, where the different
articles are exposed on stalls, roofed with mats.
•was a celebrated general in the French service, The currency is in cowries, 3000 of which go to
under Francis I., Henry II., and Charles IX.
He bore arms at an early age against the Ge-
noese, and by his valor and military skill soon
a monkalli of gold, valued at 12s. 6d. sterling.
Twenty-five miles north-east of Sego.
SANS-CULOTTES, Fr. from sans, without,
became formidable to them. He married Vanini and culottes, breeches ; a term of contempt, used
Ornano, a rich and beautiful heiress, only daugh-
ter of the viceroy of Corsica. Still inveterate
against the Genoese, he went into France with
Ins wife and family, where he served the court
successfully during the civil wars. He then set
out for Constantinople to solicit the grand sig-
nior to send a fleet against the Genoese. Mean
time the Genoese sent their agents to his wife,
ihen at Marseilles, soliciting her to return to her
native country, promising the restoration of her
by the proud noblesse of France under the ancient
despotism, towards those of the inferior ranks.
This rankled in the minds of the people, when
they got the power into their hands, and the
plebeians, in the pride of their power, at last en-
nobled this term of reproach, and some of their
bravest generals in their despatches announcing
their victories, gloried in having been born sans-
culottes. The term and its fate merit preser-
vation in a work of science, as a caveat against
fortune, and even giving hopes of a pardon to the pride of the higher ranks and the folly of the
her husband. The credulous Vanini was per- lower.
suaded. She set out with her furniture, jewels, SANSON (Nicholas), a celebrated French gec-
and family, for Genoa. A friend of San-Pietro's grapher, born at Abbeville, in Picardy, December
armed a ship, pursued her, brought her back to 12th, 1600. Having finished his studies, he en-
France, and delivered her to the parliament of tered into business as a merchant, but, meeting
Aix. San-Pietro, returning from Constantino- with considerable losses, he gave up merchan-
ple, was enraged. He then went to Aix, and dise, and applied himself to geography; his
demanded his wife, and afterwards murdered her. father having studied that science, and published
He immediately after set out for Paris, appeared
before Charles IX., confessed his crime, pleaded
his former services, and demanded a pardon.
several maps. In 1619 he completed a map of
ancient Gaul, which was very favorably received,
and encouraged him to further exertions. After
The whole court was shocked, but the pardon this he published about 300 large maps of dif-
was granted in 1567. He was soon after, how-
ever, assassinated by the brothers of his wife.
SANQUEL, one of the largest rivers of South
America, in Patagonia. It has its rise in the
snowy mountains of the Cordillera, on the east
side, and derives its name from a thorny, thick,
ferent countries, ancient and modern ; and caused
100 tables to be engraved, exhibiting the divi-
sions of modern Europe. He also published
several tracts to illustrate his maps ; as, 1 . Re-
marks upon the Ancient Gauls ; 2. A Treatise
on the Four Parts of the World ; 3. Two Tables
and rough reed, called sanquel, with which the of the Cities and Places in the Maps of the
country between this river and the first Desa- Rhine and Italy ; 4. A Description of the Roman
guero abounds. It makes its first appearance at Empire, of France, Spain, Italy, Germany, and
a place called Diamante, whence the Spaniards the British Isles; together with the ancient Iti-
sometimes call it the Rio del Diamante. It has neraries. He also wrote: 5. The Antiquity of
a course of 300 miles, and enters the Rio Negro Abbeville, which involved him in a controversy
by a wide mouth. with F. L'Abbe, the Jesuit, and others ; 6. Sa-
SANQUHAR, a royal borough, seated on the cred Geography ; and, 7. A Geographical Index
Nith, on the borders of Ayrshire ; nearly equi- of the Holy Land. Cardinal Richelieu and
distant from the Solway Frith and the Atlantic, Mazarine pgtrorJsed him greatly ; and the latter
It has one principal street, about a quarter of a appointed him royal geographer. He died in
mile long, and has long been famed for its wool- Paris, while preparing an Atlas of all his maps,
len manufactures. Sanquhar was erected into a
burgh of barony in 1484; but had previously
in 1667; leaving two sons.
SANSONATE, a district and own of Gua-
been a burgh from time immemorial, as that timala, to the southward of Suchitepec. The
charter relates. King James VI. made it a royal town is a sea-port, and is situated 120 miles
borough in 1596. It is governed by a provost, south-east of the city of Mexico, with about
three bailiffs, dean of gujld, treasurer, and eleven 2000 inhabitants. The population of the dis-
counsellors. It joins with the boroughs of trict is about 40,000, consisting almost entirely
Dumfries, Annan, Kirkcudbright, and Loch- of Indians, mulattoes, and negroes, and its ca-
maben, in electing a representative in the impe- pital is La Trinidad or Sansonate, situated on
rial parliament. It lies twenty-seven miles the river Sansonale, at its mouth.
N. N. W. of Dumfries, thirty-two north of Kirk-
cudbright, and thirty-three from Ayr.
SANS, prep. Fr. sans. Without. Out of use.
Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, tans eyes, sans taste, sans every thing.
Shakspear*.
Voi XIX.
SANSOVINO (James), an eminent sculptor
and architect, born in Florence in 1479. The
mint, and the library of St. Mark, at Venice,
were magnificent specimens of his skill. He
was so highly esteemed at Venice, that, when a
general tax was laid on the inhabitants, he and
Titian alone were exempted. He died in that
city, in 1570, at the age of ninety-one-
U
SAX
290
SAN
SANTA BARBARA, a sea-port and settlement
of New California, visited by Vancouver in
1793, who gave the name of Point Felipe to the
west point of its harbour- The interior a few
miles only from the sea coast is composed of
rugged barren mountains, which rise in five di<-
tinCt ridges a great distance inland, and to the
east. Vancouver says that the sheep and poul-
try at this settlement exceed, both in size and
delicacy of flavor, those of any of the other set-
tlements which he visited. Santa Barbara was
founded in 1786, and lately contained 1100 inha-
bitants. It is garrisoned by about sixty soldiers,
out of which it affords guards also to the mis-
sion of the same name. Long. 240° 43' E., lat.
34° 24' N.
SANTA CRUZ, the capital of the island of Tene-
riffe, and residence of the governor of the Cana-
ries, is also the centre of the trade of these is-
lands. Here reside all the consuls and commis-
saries of foreign powers, and this port may be
considered as a great caravansary on the road
between America and the Indies. It is situated
in a plain, surrounded by barren mountains, and •
its only natural advantage is a road, which af-
fords safe anchorage in deep water, where ten or
twelve ships of war may lie. A mole stretches
out into the sea, which is rounded at the extre
raity, to afford a landing place, and is ascended by
a stair at the top of which is placed the custom-
house, which it -is thus impossible to avoid. The
streets are tolerably broad, and generally well
built. The houses have all a wide court in the
interior. Travellers remark the vast number of
ecclesiastics seen on the streets, and of the im-
portunity of beggars. The population is about
8400.
SANTA CRUZ DE LA SIERRA, a town and pro-
vince of Buenos Ayres^ founded in 1558, and
afterwards removed 1 50 miles more to the south,
to the place where it now stands, in lat. 14° 20'
S., at the foot of a chain of mountains, which
bounds the country of the Chiquitos Indians to
the north, and thence runs in a north-east direc
tion to Lake Xarayes. It was at first called San
Lorenzo, and stands on the Puapay.
SANTALUM, in botany, a genus of the mo-
nogynia order, and octandria class of plants :
CAL. superior : COR. monopetalous ; the stamina
placed in the tube ; the stigma is simple ; the
fruit a berry. It grows to the size of a walnut-
tree. Its leaves are entire, oval, and placed op-
posite to each other. Its flower is of one single
piece, charged with eight stamina, and supported
upon the pistil, which becomes an insipid berry,
resembling in form that of the laurel. Its wood
is white in the circumference, and yellow in the
centre when the tree is old. This difference of
color constitutes two kinds of sanders, both em-
ployed for the same purposes, and having equally
a bitter taste, and an aromatic smell. With the
powder of this wood a paste is prepared with
which the Chinese, Indians, Persians, Arabians,
and Turks, anoint their bodies. It is likewise
burnt in their houses, and yields a fragrant and
wholesome smell.
1. S. album, white sanders, is brought from
the East Indies in billets, about the thickness of
a man's leer, of a pale whitish color. It is that
part of the yellow sanders wood which lies next
the bark. Great part of it, as met with in the
shops, has no smell or taste, nor any sensible
quality that can recommend it to the notice of
the physician.
2. S. flavum, yellow sanders, is the interior
part of the wood of the same tree which furnishes
the white, is of a pale yellowish color, of a plea-
sant smell, and a bitterish aromatic taste, accom-
panied with an agreeable kind of pungency. Dis-
tilled with water it yields a fragrant essential
oil, which thickens in the cold into the consis-
tence of a ba,lsam. Digested in pure spirit it
imparts a rich yellow tincture; which, being com-
mitted to distillation, the spirit arises without
bringing" over any thing considerable of the fla-
vor of the sanders. Hoffman looks upon this
extract as a medicine of similar virtues to am-
bergris ; and recommends it as an excellent
restorative in great debilities.
3. S. rubrum, red sanders, though in less esti-
mation, and less generally used, is sent by pre-
ference into Europe. This is the produce of a
different tree, which is common on the coast of
Coromandel. Some travellers confound it with
the wood of Caliatour, which is used in dyeing.
See PTEROCARPIS.
SANTANDER, or St. Andero, a province of
Spain, called also, and more correctly, Las
Montanas de Santander and de Burgos, or sim-
ply Las Montanas, stretching along the southern
shore of the Bay of Biscay, between Asturias,
Old Castile, and Biscay Proper. It consists of
steep mountains and valley*, and the produce
varies greatly, according to the elevation. The
valleys produce maize; and the pasturage, whether
on the plains or on the slope of the hills, is in
general good. It contains mines of the finest
iron ; and there are foundries of artillery and
steel at La C'avada and Lierganes. The coast
has the excellent harbours of St. Vincent de la
Barquera, Santillana, Castro de Urdiales, San-
tander, Laredo, and, above all, Santona. Ships
of war are built at Guarnizo. This province
formed part of the ancient Cantabria.
SANTANDER, the capital of the foregoing pro-
vince, is situated on the declivity of a hill, in a
circular peninsula, to the east of Santillana. Its
port is of easy access for merchant vessels of all
sizes ; frigates of forty guns must wait the flow
of the tide before they can pass the bar. The
harbour is protected by two forts or castles, and
the entry of vessels into the inner basin facilitated
by a fine pier. Santander was long one of the
ports called habilitados, or authorised to carry
on a free trade with Spanish America. It also
exports considerable quantities of wool. Popu-
lation 10,000. Since 1754 it has been the see of
a bishop. Fifty miles north-west of Bilboa, and
seventy-nine north of Burgos.
SANTEE, a river of South Carolina, United
States, formed by the union of the Congaree and
Wateree. It runs into the sea by two mouths,
twenty miles below Georgetown. This river
affords a navigation at some seasons nearly 300
miles, and is connected with Cooper Kiver by a
canal. The main branch in North Carolina is
called Catawba.
SANTEUIL, or SANTFA'I. (John Baptist), de,
SAN
291
SAX
was born in Paris in 1630. Having finished his
studies in Louis XIV. '3 college he applied him-
self entirely to poetry, and celebrated in his
verses the praises of several great men. He was
caressed by all the learned men of his time ; and
Louis XIV. gave him a pension. He attended
trie duke of Bourbon to Dijon, when that prince
went thither to hold the states of Burgundy:
and died there in 1697, as he was preparing to
return to Paris. Besides his Latin hymns, he
wrote a great number of Latin poems.
SANTIPORE, a town and celebrated factory
of the East India Company in Bengal, district of
Kishenagur. The factory. chiefly purchases mus-
lins, saunahs, sugar, and rum. It is esteemed
one of the healthiest places in Bengal. Longr.
28° 34' £., lat. 23° 13' N. There is another
place of the same name in Allahabad.
SANTOLINA, lavender cotton, in botany, a
genus of the polygamia rcqualis order, and synge-
nesia class of plants ; natural order forty-ninth,
compositac. The receptacle is paleaceous ; there
is no pappus: c A L. imbricated and hemispherical.
The most remarkable species are these : —
1. S. chamaecyparisus, the common lavender-
cotton, has been long known in the English gar-
dens; it was formerly called abrotanum faennna,
or female southernwood, and by corruption hro-
tany ; it grows naturally in Spain, Italy, and the
warm parts of Europe. It has a ligneous stalk,
dividing into many branches, garnished with
slender, hoary, indented, leaves, that have a rank
strong odor when handled. The branches are
terminated by a single flower, composed of
many hermaphrodite florets, which are sistular,
cut into five parts at the top, of a sulphur-yellow
and included in one common scaly empalement,
having no borders or rays. These are succeeded
by small, oblong, striated seeds, which are sepa-
rated by scaly chaff, and ripen in the empale-
ment ; the plants thrive in a dry soil and a shel-
tered situation.
2. S. chamaemelifolia, with obtuse woolly
leaves, has shrubby stalks, which rise three feet
high, garnished with broader leaves than any of
the other, whose indentures are looser, but
double ; they are hoary, and when bruised have
an odor like chamomile. The leaves are placed
pretty far asunder, and the stalks are garnished
with them to the top. The stalks are divided
likewise at the top into two or three foot-stalks,
each sustaining one pretty large sulphur-colored
flower.
3. S. decumbens, with linear leaves, is of a
lower stature than either of the former, seldom
rising more than fifteen or sixteen inches high.
The branches spread horizontally near the ground,
and are garnished with shorter leaves than either
of the former, which are hoary and finely in-
dented ; the stalks are terminated by single
flowers, of a bright yellow color, which are larger
than those of the first sort.
4. S. rosmarinifolia, with linear entire leaves,
and shrubby stalks, which rise about three feet
high, sending out long slender branches, gar-
nished with single linear leaves of a pale-green
color. The stalks are terminated by large, sin-
gle, globular flowers, of a pale sulphur-color.
5. S vil!oL-a, with woolly leaves, has a shrubby
stalk, which branches out like the first, but the
plants seldom grow so tall. The branches are
garnished very closely below with leaves ; the
flowers are of a deep sulphur-color. It grows
naturally in Spain.
6. S. virens, with very long linear leaves, rises
higher than any other of this genus. The branches
are more diffused ; they are slender, smooth,
and garnished with very narrow long leaves,
which are of a deep green color; the stalks are
slender, naked towards the top, and terminated
by single flowers of a gold color. All these
plants may be cultivated so as to become orna-
ments to a garden, particularly in small bosquets
of ever-green shrubs, where, if they are artfully
intermixed with other plants of the same growth,
and placed in the front line, they will make an
agreeable variety ; especially if care be taken to
trim them twice in a summer, to keep them
witliin bounds, otherwise their branches are apt
to straggle, and in wet weather to be borne
down and displaced, which renders them un-
sightly ; but, when they are kept in order, their
hoary and different colored leaves will have a
fine effect in such plantations. They may be
propagated by planting slips or cuttings during
the spring, in a border of light fresh earth, but
must be watered and shaded in hot dry weather,
until they have taken root ; after which they will
require no farther care but to keep them clean
from weeds till autumn, when they should be
transplanted where they are designed to remain ;
but, if the ground is not ready by that time to
receive them, let them remain in the border un-
til spring ; for if they are transplanted late in
autumn, they are liable to be destroyed by cold
in winter.
SANTORINI, SANTORIN, ST. ERINI, or ST.
IRENE, the ancient Thera and Calista, an island
in the Grecian archipelago, between Nanphio,
Nio, and Candia. Its length and greatest breadth
are about eight miles. It has the form of a
crescent, and between its two points are the
small islands of Therasia and Aspronisi, within
which again are three others. All seem of vol-
canic origin, and have risen at different periods
from the sea : Santorini being almost entirely
covered with pumice-stone, ashes, and other
volcanic substances It is, however, well culti-
vated, and produces barley, cotton, vines, al-
monds, figs, and various fruits. Population
10,000. Long. 25° 36' E , lat. 36° 28' N.
SANTOS, a well-built town and port of St.
Pauls, Brazil, is the storehouse of the province,
and the resort of many vessels trading to the Rio
de la Plata. The rice and bananas of the dis-
trict, which are grown in great quantities, are
considered the best in Brasil. It also exports
sugar, coffee, rum, rice, mandioca, indigo, &c.
As Santos is the embarking place of St. Paul's,
its intercourse with that town is very consider-
able. In the course of a day several hundred
mules arrive, loaded with the produce of the
country, and return with salt, iron, copper,
earthenwares, and European manufactures. It
has convenient water carriage, its river being
navigable about twenty miles up to Cuberton,
where an officer with a guard of soldiers is sta-
tioned to receive the duties, for the repair of the
U 2
SAP
294
SAP
•ree. All these plants are propagated by seeds;
they must be put into small pots, and plunged
into a hot-bed of tanner's bark. In five or six
weeks the plants will appear, when the glasses
of the hot-bed should be raised every day in
warm weather, to admit fresh air to the plants. In
three or four weeks after the plants appear they
will be fit to transplant, when they must be
shaken out of the pots, and carefully parted, so
as not to injure their roots, and each planted
into a separate small pot, and plunged into the
hot-bed again, observing to shade them from the
sun until they have taken new root ; after which
time they must have free air admitted to them
every day when the weather is warm, and will
require to be frequently watered.
SAPLING, n. s. From sap. A young tree ;
a young plant.
Look, how I am bewitched ; behold mine arm
Is, like a blasted sapling, withered up. Shaktpeare.
Nurse the saplings tall, and curl the grove
With ringlets quaint. Milton.
A sapling pine he wrenched from out the ground,
The readiest weapon that his fury found. Dryden.
Slouch turned his head, saw his wife's vigorous
hand
Wielding her oaken sapling of command. A'i/i<;.
What planter will attempt to yoke
A sapling with a falling oak ? Surift.
SAPONA'CEOUS, adj. \ Lat. sapo, soap.
SAP'ONAUY. J Soapy; resembling
soap; having the qualities of soap.
By digesting a solution of salt of tartar with oil
of almonds, I could reduce them to a soft saponary
substance. Boyle.
Any mixture of an oily substance with salt, may
he called a soap : bodies of this nature are called su-
ponaceaus. Arbuthnot.
SAPONARIA, sopewort, in botany, a genus
of the digynia order, and decandna class of
plants, natural order twenty-second, caryophyl-
leae : CAL. monophyllous and naked; there are
five ungulated petals : CAPS, oblong and unilo-
cular. There are nine species. Of these the
most remarkable is the —
S. officinalis, which is a British plant, has a
creeping root, so that in a short time it would
fill a large space of ground. The stalks are
about two feet high, and of a purplish color.
The foot-stalks of the flowers arise from the
wings of the leaves opposite ; they sustain four,
five, or more purple flowers each ; which have
generally two small leaves placed under them.
The stalk is also terminated by a loose bunch of
flowers growing in form of an umbel ; they have
each a large swelling cylindrical empalement,
and five broad obtuse petals, which spread open,
of a purple color. These are succeeded by oval
t upsiiles, with one cell filled with small seeds.
The decoction is used to cleanse and scour
woollen cloths; the poor people of some coun-
tries use it instead of soap for washing ; from
which use it had its name.
SAPOR, n. s. Lat. sapor. Taste; power of
affecting or stimulating the palate.
is some sapor in all aliments, as being to be
distinguished and judged by the gust, whu h runnot
b< admitted in air. Hiwnf.
'1 lie sliape of those liltlc paiti< IT «hich
distinguish the various sapors, odours, and colours of
bodies. Watt*.
SAPOR I., king of Persia, succeeded his
father A rtaxerxes about A. D. 438. He enlarged
his dominions by taking Mesopotamia, Syria,
and Cilicia ; but proved a most haughty and
cruel tyrant, particularly to the Roman emperor
Valerian, whom he took prisoner, and after every
possible insult put him to a cruel death. After
this he was very unsuccessful ; was repeatedly
defeated by Odenatus, prince of Palmyra ; and
at last assassinated by his own subjects, A. D.
273. He was succeeded by his son Hormisdas.
SAPOR II., king of Persia, grandson of Sapor
I., succeeded his father Hormisdas, A. D. 310.
He was a very active and warlike monarch, and
proved very troublesome to the Romans. His
victories alarmed the emperor Julian so much
that he marched against him in person ; but in a
rencounter with the troops of this prince received
his mortal wound. Jovian made peace with
Sapor ; but the latter afterwards renewed hosti-
lities, invaded Armenia, and defeated the empe-
ror Valens. Sapor died A. D. 380, after a long
and prosperous reign of seventy years.
SAPPERS are soldiers belonging to the
royal artillery, whose business it is to work at
the saps, for which they have an extraordinary
pay. A brigade of sappers generally consists of
eight men, divided equally into two parties ; and,
whilst one of these parties is advancing the sap,
the other is furnishing the gabions, fascines, and
other necessary implements. They relieve each
other alternately.
SAPPHIC AND ADONIAN, oradonic Terse, in
the ancient poetry, a beautiful kind of verse, so
named from Sappho, the poetess, and Adonis,
the favorite of Venus. The Sapphic verses
consisted of five feet each ; of which the first was
a trochee; the second a spondee; the third a
dactyl; and the two lust trochees. The Adonian
consisted of five syllables, forming a dactyl and
a spondee. Each stanza consisted of three lines
Sapphic and one Adonian, thus :
Aure"-
Diri-
Sordi-
arn quis
git, tu
bus tec-
quls nicili- | ocrl- | tateru
tus caret | obso- I leti
ti, caret | invi- | dend'A
Sobrius aula.
SAPPIHRA, the wife of a rich merchant m
Gueldres, equally distinguished for her beauty
and her misfortunes. Rhinsauld, a German
officer, and governor of the town of Gueldres,
fell in love with her; and, not being able to se-
duce her either by promises or presents, lie im-
prisoned her husband, pretending that he kept
up a traitorous correspondence with the enemies
of the state. Sapphira yielded to the passion of
the governor to relieve her husband from chains:
but private orders had already been given to put
liiui to death. His unhappy widow, overwhelmed
with grief, complained to Charles duke of Bur-
•_'iindy. He ordered Rhinsauld to marry her,
and to make over to her all his possessions. As
soon as the deed was signed, ami the marriage
over, Charles commanded him to be put to
death. Thus the children of a wife whom he
had seduced, and of a husband whom he had
murdered, became lawful heirs to all his \\";ihli.
SAP
295
SAR
SAPPHIRE, n. s. Lat. sapphirus. A pre-
cious stone of a blue color.
In enrolled tuffs, flowers, purfled, blue and white,
Like saphire, pearl, in rich embroidery.
Shakspeare.
She was too saphirine and clear for thee ;
Clay, flint, and jet now thy fit dwellings be.
Donne.
A few grains of shell silver, with a convenient
proportion of powdered crystal glass, having been
kept three hours in fusion, I found the coliquated
mass, upon breaking the crucible, of a lovely saphi-
rine blue. Boyle.
Saphire is of a bright blue color. Woodward.
He tinctures rubies with their rosy hue,
And on the saphire spreads a heavenly blue.
Blackmore.
That the saphire should grow foul, and lose its
beauty, when worn by one that is lecherous, and
many other fabulous stories of gems, are great argu-
ments that their virtue is equivalent to their value.
Derham.
SAPPHIRE, a genus of precious stones, of a blue
color, and the hardest of all except the ruby and
diamond. They are found in the same countries
with these jewels, also in Bohemia, Alsace, Si-
beria, and Auvergne. M. Rome de 1'Isle men-
tions one found at Auvergne, which appeared
quite green or blue according to the position in
which it was viewed. They are seldom found
of a deep blue color throughout, or free from
parallel veins. The late unfortunate Louis XVI.
had one with a stripe of fine yellow topaz in the
middle. Some are found half green and half
red, and are foliated like the ruby. The finest
sapphires come from the East Indies. In Scot-
land they have been found of a hardness and
lustre equal to the oriental, both light and deep
colored. When powdered, they are fusible with
borax, magnesia, or microcosmic salt, into a
transparent glass. Jameson considers it as a
species of rhomboidal corundum. It is the
telesie of Haiiy, and the perfect corundum of
Bournon. The following is Jameson's descrip-
tion of it abridged by Dr. Ure : — Colors blue and
red ; it occurs also gray, white, green, and yel-
low. It occurs in blunt-edged pieces, in roundish
pebbles, and crystallised. The primitive figure
is a slightly acute rhomboid, or double three-
sided pyramid, in which the alternate angles are
86° 4' and 93° 56'. The following are the usual
forms : — a very acute, equiangular, six-sided py-
ramid ; the same truncated on the summit ; a
perfect six-sided prism ; an acute, double, six-
sided pyramid : the same acuminated, or trun-
cated in various ways. Splendent, inclined to
adamantine. Cleavage parallel with the terminal
planes of the prism. Fracture conchoidal. From
transparent to translucent. Refracts double.
Brittle. Specific gravity 4 to 4-2. Its constitu-
ents are,
Klaproth.
Blue.
Alumina, 98-5
Lime, 6-5
Oxide of iron, 1
Loss
100-0
Chenevix.
Red.
90-0
7-0
1-2
1-8
100-0
Infusible before the blowpipe. It becomes
electrical by rubbing, and retains its electricity
for several hours ; but does not become electrical
by heating. It occurs in alluvial soil, in the vi-
cinity of rocks belonging to the secondary or
floetz-trap formation, and imbedded in gneiss.
It is found at Podsedlitz and Treblitz in Bohe-
mia, and Hohenstein in Saxony; Expailly in
France ; and particularly beautiful in the Cape-
Ian mountains, twelve days' journey from Sirian,
a city of Pegu. Next to diamond, it is the most
valuable of the gems. The white and pale blue
varieties, by exposure to heat, become snow-
white, and when cut exhibit so high a degree of
lustre that they are used in place of diamonds.
The blue stone to which the ancients applied the
name of sapphire was different from ours ; it
was spotted with golden spangles ; it was, in-
deed, the same as the lapis lazuli.
SAPPHO, a celebrated poetess of antiquity,
who has been often styled the Tenth Muse, born
at Mitylene, in the isle of Lesbos, about A.A.C.
610. She was contemporary with Stesichorus
and Alcaeus. The last was her countryman, and
some think her suitor. A verse of this poet, in
which he intimates to her his passion, is preserved
in Aristotle, Rhet. lib. i. cap. 9, together with
the damsel's answer. Of the numerous poems
this lady wrote, nothing remains but some small
fragments which the ancient scholiasts have cited ;
a hymn to Venus, preserved by Dionysius of
Halicarnassus, and a short ode. She fell in love
with Phaon, and did all she could to win him,
but in vain. She followed him into Sicily, whi-
ther he retired to avoid her; and during her stay
in that island composed the Hymn to Venus,
still extant, in which she begs so ardently the as-
sistance of that goddess. But her prayers proved
fruitless; Phaon was cruel to the last, and Sappho
at length went to the promontory Leucas, and
threw herself into the sea. See LEUCATE. The
Mitylenians held her merit in such high esteem,
that they stamped their money with her image ;
and the Romans afterwards erected a noble sta-
tue of porphyry to her. Vossius says that none
of the Greek poets excelled Sappho for sweet-
ness of verse ; and that she made Archilochus
the model of her style, but softened the harsh-
ness of his expression. Rapin observes that
Longinus had great reason to extol the admirable
genius of this woman ; for what remain of her
works are delicate, harmonious, and impassioned
to the last degree.
SAR'ABAND, n. s. Fr. sarabande ; Span.
$arabunde. A Spanish dance.
The several modifications of this tune-playing qua-
lity in a fiddle, to play preludes, sarabands, jigs, and
gavots, are as much real qualities in the instrument
as the thought is in the mind of the composer.
A rbttthnot and Pope.
A SARABAND is a musical composition, in the
triple time, the motions of which are slow and
serious. See Music. Saraband is also a dance
to the same measure, which usually terminates
when the hand that beats fhe time falls ; and is
otherwise much the same as the minuet. The
saraband is said to be originally derived from
the Saracens, and is usually danced to the sound
of the guitar or castauettes.
SAP
294
SAP
Tee. All these plants are propagated by seeds;
they must be put into small pots, and plunged
into a hot-bed of tanner's bark. In five or six
weeks the plants will appear, when the glasses
of the hot-bed should be raised every day in
warm weather, to admit fresh air to the plants. In
three or four weeks after the plants appear they
will be fit to transplant, when they must be
shaken out of the pots, and carefully parted, so
as not to injure their roots, and each planted
into a separate small pot, and plunged into the
hot-bed again, observing to shade them from the
sun until they have taken new root ; after which
time they must have free air admitted to them
every day when the weather is warm, and will
require to be frequently watered.
SAPLING, n. s. From sap. A young tree;
a young plant.
Look how I am bewitched ; behold mine arm
Is, like a blasted sapling, withered up. Shaktpeare.
Nurse the saplings tall, and curl the grove
With ringlets quaint. Milton.
A sapling pine he wrenched from out the ground,
The readiest weapon that his fury found. Dryden.
Slouch turned his head, saw his wife's vigorous
hand
Wielding her oaken sapling of command. King.
What planter will attempt to yoke
A mpling with a falling oak? Swift.
SAPONA'CEOUS, adj. \ Lat. sapo, soap.
SAP'ONAIIY. J Soapy; resembling
soap ; having the qualities of soap.
By digesting a solution of salt of tartar with oil
of almonds, I could reduce them to a soft tapimary
substance. lioyle.
Any mixture of an oily substance with salt, may
he called a soap : bodies of this nature are called sa-
ponaceous, Arbuthnot.
SAPONARIA, sopewort, in botany, a genus
of the digynia order, and decandna class of
plants, natural order twenty-second, caryophyl-
leae : CAL. monophyllous and naked ; there are
rive ungulated petals : CAPS, oblong and unilo-
cular. There are nine species. Of these the
most remarkable is the —
S. officinalis, which is a British plant, has a
creeping root, so that in a short time it would
fill a large space of ground. The stalks are
about two feet high, and of a purplish color.
The foot-stalks of the flowers arise from the
wings of the leaves opposite ; they sustain four,
five, or more purple flowers each ; which have
generally two small leaves placed under them.
The stalk is also terminated by a loose bunch of
flowers growing in form of an umbel; they have
a large swelling cylindrical empalement,
and five broad obtuse petals, which spread open,
of a purple color. These are succeeded by oval
i-u|iMiles with one cell filled with small seeds.
The decoction is u*ed to cleanse and scour
woollen cloths; the poor people of some coun-
tries use it instead of soap for washing ; from
which use it had its name.
SA1'< )H, n. s. I .at. stipor. Taste; power of
afl'rctingor stimulating the palate.
I IK if is some tapor in all aliments, as being to he
distinguished and judged by the gust, whu h <
b* admitted in air. Hriw/f.
I lie •- 1 1 ape of those liltl< ; i lu.iHcr "liicli
distinguish the various sapors, odours, and colours of
bodies. Watts.
SAPOR I., king of Persia, succeeded his
father Artaxerxes about A. 1). 438. He enlarged
his dominions by taking Mesopotamia, Syria,
and Cilicia ; but proved a most haughty and
cruel tyrant, particularly to the Roman emperor
Valerian, whom he took prisoner, and after every
possible insult put him to a cruel death. After
this he was very unsuccessful ; was repeatedly
defeated by Odenatus, prince of Palmyra ; and
at last assassinated by his own subjects, A. D.
273. He was succeeded by his son Hormisdas.
SAPOR II., king of Persia, grandson of Sapor
I., succeeded his father Hormisdas, A. D. 310.
He was a very active and warlike monarch, and
proved very troublesome to the Romans. His
victories alarmed the emperor Julian so much
that he marched against him in person ; but in a
rencounter with the troops of this prince received
his mortal wound. Jovian made peace with
Sapor ; but the latter afterwards renewed hosti-
lities, invaded Armenia, and defeated the empe-
ror Valens. Sapor died A. D. 380, after a long
and prosperous reign of seventy years.
SAPPERS are soldiers belonging to the
royal artillery, whose business it is to work at
the saps, for which they have an extraordinary
pay. A brigade of sappers generally consists of
eight men, divided equally into two parties; and,
whilst one of these parties is advancing the sap,
the other is furnishing the gabions, fascines, and
other necessary implements. They relieve each
other alternately.
SAPPHIC AND ADONIAN, oradonic terse, in
the ancient poetry, a beautiful kind of verse, so
named from Sappho, the poetess, and Adonis,
the favorite of Venus. The Sapphic verses
consisted of five feet each ; of which the first was
a trochee ; (he second a spondee ; the third a
dactyl ; and the two lust trochees. The Adonian
consisted of five syllables, forming a dactyl and
a spondee. Each stanza consisted of three lines
Sapphic and one Adonian, thus :
tateni
leti
denda
Sobrius aula.
SAPPHIRA, the wife of a rich merchant in
Gueldres, equally distinguished for her beauty
and her misfortunes. Rhinsauld, a German
officer, and governor of the town of Gueldres,
fell in love with her; and, not being able to se-
duce her either by promises or presents, lie im-
]>riM>ned her husband, pretending that he kept
up a traitorous correspondence with the enemies
of the state. Sapphira yielded to the passion of
the governor to relieve her husband from chains:
but private oruers had already been given to put
Mm to death. His unhappy widow, overwhelmed
N\ ith grief, complained to Charles duke of Bur-
LMimly. He ordered Rhinsauld to marry her,
and to make over to her all his possessions. As
soon as the deed u, is signed, and the marriage
over, Charles commanded him to be put to
death. Tin1 - the children of a wife whom he
had seduced, and of a husband whom lie lunl
nmideied, became lawful heirs to all his \\»a!th.
Aure-
am quis
quis mfrll-
ocrl-
Diri-
git, tu
tus caret
obso-
Soidi-
bus tec-
ti, caret
invi-
SAP
295
SAR
SAPPHIRE, n. s. Lat. sapphirus. A pre-
cious stone of a blue color.
In enrolled tuffs, flowers, purfled, blue and white,
Like sap/iire, pearl, in rich embroidery.
Shakspeare.
She was too saphirine and clear for thee ;
Clay, flint, and jet now thy fit dwellings be.
Donne.
A few grains of shell silver, with a convenient
proportion of powdered crystal glass, having been
kept three hours in fusion, I found the coliquated
mass, upon breaking the crucible, of a lovely saphi-
rine blue. Boyle.
Saphire is of a bright blue color. Woodward.
He tinctures rubies with their rosy hue,
And on the saphire spreads a heavenly blue.
Blackmore.
That the saphire should grow foul, and lose its
beauty, when worn by one that is lecherous,, and
many other fabulous stories of gems, are great argu-
ments that their virtue is equivalent to their value.
Derham.
SAPPHIRE, a genus of precious stones, of a blue
color, and the hardest of all except the ruby and
diamond. They are found in the same countries
with these jewels, also in Bohemia, Alsace, Si-
beria, and Auvergne. M. Rome de 1'Isle men-
tions one found at Auvergne, which appeared
quite green or blue according to the position in
which it was viewed. They are seldom found
of a deep blue color throughout, or free from
parallel veins. The late unfortunate Louis XVI.
had one with a stripe of fine yellow topaz in the
middle. Some are found half green and half
red, and are foliated like the ruby. The finest
sapphires come from the East Indies. In Scot-
land they have been found of a hardness and
lustre equal to the oriental, both light and deep
colored. When powdered, they are fusible with
borax, magnesia, or microcosmic salt, into a
transparent glass. Jameson considers it as a
species of rhomboidal corundum. It is the
telesie of Haiiy, and the perfect corundum of
Bournon. The following is Jameson's descrip-
tion of it abridged by Dr. Ure : — Colors blue and
red ; it occurs also gray, white, green, and yel-
low. It occurs in blunt-edged pieces, in roundish
pebbles, and crystallised. The primitive figure
is a slightly acute rhomboid, or double three-
sided pyramid, in which the alternate angles are
86° 4' and 93° 56'. The following are the usual
forms : — a very acute, equiangular, six-sided py-
ramid ; the same truncated on the summit ; a
perfect six-sided prism ; an acute, double, six-
sided pyramid : the same acuminated, or trun-
cated in various ways. Splendent, inclined to
adamantine. Cleavage parallel with the terminal
planes of the prism. Fracture conchoidal. From
transparent to translucent. Refracts double.
Brittle. Specific gravity 4 to 4-2. Its constitu-
ents are,
Klaproth.
Blue.
Alumina, 98-5
Lime, 6-5
Oxide of iron, 1
Loss
100-0
Chenevix.
Red.
90-0
7-0
1-2
1-8
100-0
Infusible before the blowpipe. It becomes
electrical by rubbing, and retains its electricity
for several hours ; but does not become electrical
by heating. It occurs in alluvial soil, in the vi-
cinity of rocks belonging to the secondary or
floetz-trap formation, and imbedded in gneiss.
It is found at Podsedlitz and Treblitz in Bohe-
mia, and Hohenstein in Saxony; Expailly in
France ; and particularly beautiful in the Cape-
Ian mountains, twelve days' journey from Sirian,
a city of Pegu. Next to diamond, it is the most
valuable of the gems. The white and pale blue
varieties, by exposure to heat, become snow-
white, and when cut exhibit so high a degree of
lustre that they are used in place of diamonds.
The blue stone to which the ancients applied the
name of sapphire was different from ours ; it
was spotted with golden spangles; it was, in-
deed, the same as the lapis lazuli.
SAPPHO, a celebrated poetess of antiquity,
who has been often styled the Tenth Muse, born
at Mitylene, in the isle of Lesbos, about A.A.C.
610. She was contemporary with Stesichorus
and Alcaeus. The last was her countryman, and
some think her suitor. A verse of this poet, in
which he intimates to her his passion, is preserved
in Aristotle, Rhet. lib. i. cap. 9, together witli
the damsel's answer. Of the numerous poems
this lady wrote, nothing remains but some small
fragments which the ancient scholiasts have cited ;
a hymn to Venus, preserved by Dionysius of
Halicarnassus, and a short ode. She fell in love
with Phaon, and did all she could to win him,
but in vain. She followed him into Sicily, whi-
ther he retired to avoid her; and during her stay
in that island composed the Hymn to Venus,
still extant, in which she begs so ardently the as-
sistance of that goddess. But her prayers proved
fruitless; Phaon was cruel to the last, and Sappho
at length went to the promontory Leucas, and
threw herself into the sea. See LEUCATE. The
Mitylenians held her merit in such high esteem,
that they stamped their money with her image ;
and the Romans afterwards erected a noble sta-
tue of porphyry to her. Vossius says that none
of the Greek poets excelled Sappho for sweet-
ness of verse ; and that she made Archilochus
the model of her style, but softened the harsh-
ness of his expression. Rapin observes that
Longinus had great reason to extol the admirable
genius of this woman ; for what remain of her
works are delicate, harmonious, and impassioned
to the last degree.
SAR'ABAND, n. s. Fr. sarabande ; Span.
$arabande. A Spanish dance.
The several modifications of this tune-playing qua-
lity in a fiddle, to play preludes, sarabands, jigs, and
gavots, are as much real qualities in the instrument
as the thought is in the mind of the composer.
Arbuthnot and Pope.
A SARABAND is a musical composition, in the
triple time, the motions of which are slow and
serious. See Music. Saraband is also a dance
to the same measure, which usually terminates
when the hand that beats fhe time falls ; and is
otherwise much the same as the minuet. The
saraband is said to be originally derived from
the Saracens, and is usually danced to the sound
of the guitar or castauettes.
296
SARACENS.
SARACENS, a name given to the former
inhabitants of Arabia; so called from the
word sara, which signifies a desert, as the greatest
part of Arabia is ; and, this being the country
of Mahomet, his disciples were called Sara-
cens.
Under the article ARABIA, and still more
fully under MAHOMET, we have given an account
of the rise, progress, and establishment of the
Mahometan system of imposture and super-
stition ; previous to which event the name of
Saracens was hardly known in Europe. Of his
flight from Mecca" to Medina, A. D. 622, and
consequent orijin of the Mahometan era of
the Hegira, we have also given a particular ac-
count, with his various and rapid successes, for
ten years after the commencement of that era.
By the year 631, the ninth of the Hegira, the
principal men among the Arabs, and the whole
of the Koreish, his most inveterate opponents,
had submitted, and by the year 632 the whole
peninsula of Arabia was reduced under his sub-
jection and superstition. But in that year, the
tenth of the Hegka, while fresh embassies of
submission were daily arriving, this famous im-
postor died in Medina, in the chamber of his
best beloved wife, in consequence of a poisoned
dish presented to him three years before, by
Zainoh, the daughter of Hareth, an Arabian
chief, of which he had eaten but a small quan-
tity. The death of Mahomet threw all Mecca
into consternation. The veneration of the people
was so great that they could hardly believe his
death possible. Abu Beer, however, at last con-
vinced them that, though God was immortal, his
prophet was mortal.
Warm disputes followed between the Mohaje-
rin and the Ansars ; about the election of a
caliph, as his successor. Ali, the son-in-law of
Mahomet, who had married the prophet's daugh-
ter, Fatinia, certainly had the best title; but Abu
Beer was preferred by the influence of Omar,
and chosen by both parties. Ali, after some re-
monstrances, submitted : but his superior right
is defended even to the present period, by a nu-
merous party of Mahometans, hence called
Shites, or Sectaries. Upon Abu Beer's accession
many of the Arabs refused to pay the tribute
imposed on them by Mahomet ; whereupon Abu
Beer sent Khaled, with an army of 4500 men,
who totally defeated them, brought off much
plunder, and made many of them slaves. He
also killed Moseilama, and defeated Toleiah,
two pretended prophets, who attempted to imi-
tate Mahomet in his posture. He next sent his
son Osama into Syria, where he plundered the
country and did much damage to the Greeks.
He soon after sent Khaled to invade Irak, which
he accomplished, and put an end to tne kingdom
of Hira, collecting 70,000 pieces of money, and
subjecting the people to tribute. He next pre-
pared to invade Syria, and, having collected a
great army, gave Yezid Ebn Abu Sosian the
rornmnnd <.f it, with the following among oilier
'Treat, your men with lenity : if you
be victorious, kill neither old people, \voir.snr
nor children : cut down no palm trees, nor burn
any fields of corn : spare all fruit trees, and slay
no cattle but such as you use : put none of the
religious persons to the sword : offer no violence
to the places they serve God in.' The Greek
emperor was much alarmed, and sent a party of
Greeks to reconnoitre the enemy, who falling in
with a party of Arabs, a battle ensued, in which
the Greeks lost 1200 men, while the Saracens
lost only 120. Many skirmishes followed, and
much rich spoil was taken by the Saracens, and
sent to the caliph. Another party of Greeks,
however, were more successful against Abu
Obeidah, whom they totally defeated, and who
was therefore displaced by Abu Beer. Khaled
was sent to reduce Bostra, a rich city of Syria,
which he accomplished chiefly by treachery.
Being joined by Obeidan's troops, he laid siege
to Damascus with 45,000 men. The Greek em-
peror sent an army of 100,000 men, under general
Werdan, to relieve it ; but they were attacked by
Derar Ehn Al Wazar, at the head ef a numerous
body of Saracens ; and, though the Greeks were
at first so successful as even to take Derar him-
self prisoner (who had plunged into the heart of
the Christian army, killed the standard-bearer,
and seized the standard, which was a cross richly
adorned with precious stones), yet the Saracens
completely defeated them, Khaled himself turn-
ing the fortune of the day, by arriving with a
fresh body of foot and 1000 horse. Werdan,
however, having still an army of 70,000 men,
made a fresh attempt to relieve Damascus ; bu:
being again completely defeated, with the loss
of 50,000 men, Damascus was soon after taken,
A. D. 634 ; and that very day Abu Beer died of
a consumption, aged sixty-three.
Abu Beer was succeeded by Omar I., who was
saluted with the title of emperor of the be-
lievers, and replaced Abu Obeidah in the com-
mand, being displeased with Khaled for his
cruelties ; whereas Obeidah was mild and mer-
ciful to the Christians. Khaled, however, bore
his disgrace with magnanimity, and swore he
would obey the new caliph. Obeidah, however,
some time afterwards voluntarily yielded the
command to Khaled, as being possessed of more
military skill. Under these commanders, the
Saracens soon after reduced the fortresses of
Kinnisrin, Baalbec, Adestan, Shaizar, and Hems :
upon which the Greek emperor Heraclius sent
against them an army of 240,000 men, under
Manuel ; but this numerous body was utterly
defeated by Khaled, near a village called Yer-
mouk; where, according to the Arabian his-
torians, the Christians lost 150,000 men killed,
and 40,000 prisoners, while the Arabs lost only
4030 men; but this seems incredible. The de-
feat of Yermouk was followed by the loss of Je-
rusalem, and all Palestine. Omar, hearing of
the success of his troops, immediately set out to
visit Jerusalem, in a kind of pilgrimage, being
dressed in a coarse habit made of camels' liair,
daily, and performing numberless su-
S A It A C E N S.
297
perstitious ceremonies by the way, as well as
some signal acts of justice and mercy, and giving
some striking instances of humility, by causing all
his followers to eat with him without distinction.
Upon his arrival he preached a sermon to his
people ; after which he signed the articles of ca-
pitulation, confirmed the inhabitants of Jerusa-
lem in all their rights and privileges, and visited
the temple of the resurrection, and other antiqui-
ties of that city, accompanied by Sophronius the
patriarch, who with difficulty could prevail on
him to change his dirty garments for others
more becoming his dignity. After dividing the
government of Syria between Abu Obeidah and
Yezid Ebn Abu Sosian, ordering Amru Ebn Al
As to invade Egypt, and leaving proper orders
otherwise, he returned to Medina. Yezid then
attacked Caesarea, but found it stronger than he
expected. Obeidah advanced to Aleppo, where
Youkinna and John, two brothers, governed
under Heraclius. Youkinna resolved to oppose
the Saracens, and accordingly set out at the head
of 12,000 troops ; and, meeting with a party of
Arabs, defeated them ; but, in the mean time, the
people of Aleppo, afraid of the consequences, if
their city should be taken by storm, submitted to
Abu Obeidah. On this Youkinna posted home
to Aleppo in a rage, ordered them to annul their
treaty, and, finding them not ready to comply,
killed 300 of them, among whom was his own
brother John. He vr? soon after attacked by
the Saracens, and defeated with the loss of 3000
men ; after which he was besieged by them in
the citadel, from which he made repeated sallies,
and killed great numbers of the Saracens. Abu
Obeidah, after continuing the siege four months
onger, at last wrote Omar that the citadel was
impregnable, and proposed raising it. But Omar
sent him a fresh reinforcement, with seventy
camels, and orders to continue it. Among these
new troops was an Arab of a gigantic size, named
Dames ; who, by his size and his ingenuity, in
raising seven men perpendicularly upon his own
and each other's shoulders, overtopt the walls
in the night, got quietly in, killed the sentinels
and the guards; and admitting Khaled, with a
fresh party of Saracens, soon got complete pos-
session of the citadel. Youkinna and some
of the principal officers turned Mahometans.
After this Youkinna proposed to Obeidah to be-
tray into his hand Azar, an important fort, where
his own cousin Theodorus was commandant, by
going to him at the head of 100 Arabs dressed
as Greeks. But, this piece of treachery was de-
tected, Theodorus having heard of the plan ; and
Youkinna and his pseudo-Greeks were made
prisoners. But the fort being reduced, You-
kinna recovered his liberty ; but was soon after
taken prisoner a second time, and carried before
Heraclius at Antioch. Here again he dissembled,
and pretended that he was still a Christian, and
had only professed Mahometanism to serve
the emperor the more effectually ; upon which
Heraclius appointed him governor of Antioch,
which the traitor soon after delivered up to the
Saracens. Heraclius, disconsolate by these suc-
cessive losses, was put by the king of Ghassan
upon the ungenerous plan of attempting to get
rid of Omar by assassination. The king accord-
ingly employed Wathek Ebn Mosafer, a resolute
young Arab of his own tribe, on this dangerous
enterprise. Wathek got a fair opportunity, by
finding Omar sleeping under a tree, but was de-
terred by a lion, who came and licked the ca-
iiph's feet till he awoke : on which Wathek, con-
sidering this as miraculous, confessed his inten-
tion, turned Mahometan, and was pardoned.
Obeidah then despatched a body of 1300 troops,
under Meisarah Ebn Mesroux, to the moun-
tainous parts of Syria. The Greeks surrounded
them, and would have cut them all off, had not
Khaled appeared at the head of 3000 Arabs.
On this the Greeks fled, leaving their tents and
rich effects to the Arabs. But Abdallah Ebn
Hodasa, one of Omar's chief favorites, was
taken prisoner, and sent to Constantinople. Omar
wrote to Heraclius, requesting his release, which
Heraclius generously granted, and sent along
with him many valuable presents, particularly a
jewel of immense value, which Omar sold, and
put the price in the public treasury, though re-
quested to keep it for his own use. About this
time a negotiation for peace took place ; but,
Omar insisting upon an annual tribute, it failed.
Mean time many skirmishes took place, and
many heroic acts of prowess were performed by
individuals on both sides. But the chief suc-
cess was on the side of the Saracens. Khaled
took Manbii, Beraa, Balis, Raaban, Douluc,
Korus (the ancient Cyrus), and several other for-
tified towns. Prince Constantine, the son
of Heraclius, finding his troops diminishing-
daily, took the advantage of a tempestuous night
to escape to Catsarea; which was soon after in-
vested by Amru. Mean time Youkinna, by his
old system of treachery, took Tripoli, and seized
fifty ships, which had just arrived from Crete
and Cyprus with a supply of arms and pro-
visions, not knowing that the Saracens were pos-
sessed of it. With these he set out for Tyre,
where he deceived the people, pretending to
come as a friend, and opened the gates to Yezid.
Constantine, hearing at Caesarea of these losses,
set sail with his family and all his wealth, leaving
the citizens to make their best terms with Amru.
The surrender of Caesarea was followed by that
of all the other cities and forts in Syria, from the
Mediterranean to the Euphrates, in the eigh-
teenth year of the Hegira, or A. D. 640, six years
after the expedition commenced. To the mise-
ries of war were added those of violent storms
of hail, an epidemical distemper, and at last a
pestilence, all within the course of this year,
which the Arabs style the year of destruction.
By this last plague, the Saracens lost 25,000
men ; among whom were Abu Obeidah, Yezid,
Abu Sosian, Serjabil, and other eminent charac-
ters. Amru after this set out for Egypt, and on
l»is way took Tarma, a town on the isthmus of
Suez. He next attacked Mesr, the ancient Mem-
phis, which, after a siege of seven months, was
betrayed to him by Al Mokawkas, the governor.
He then proceeded to Alexandria, which, after
defeating the imperial army, he invested. During
the siege Amru himself was taken prisoner, 'but
protected from detection by one of his own slaves
giving him a box on the ear, while he was an-
swering some questions proposed by tht govcr-
298
SARACENS.
nor, who generously dismissed him without ran-
som. Amru nevertheless reduced Alexandria
soon after, which was followed by the loss of the
whole kingdom of Egypt ; while his general
Okba Ebn Nafe made himself master of all the
country of Africa, between Barka and Zoweilah,
including also what now forms the piratical
kingdom of Tripoli. Soon after this a great
famine raged in Arabia, particularly at Medina,
where Omar then resided. Omar therefore wrote
to Amru to send him a supply of corn, which
he accordingly sent on a train of loaded camels,
the first of which entered Medina when the last
left Alexandria. But, this method proving te-
dious and expensive, Omar ordered Amru to
clear the Araris T raj anus, now named Khalis,
which runs through Cairo, of the sand which
choked it. This Amru did, and thus rendered
the communication from Egypt to Arabia easy.
The Saracens, thus successful in the west, were
no less so in the east. The capture of Irak, and
destruction of Hira, brought on a war with the
Persians. See PERSIA. On the departure of
Khaled, the command of the troops was left with
Abu Obeid Ebn Masud, Mothanna Ebn Hare-
tha, Amru Ebn Hasen, and Salit Ebn Kis. Abu
Obeid, having passed a river, was killed, and his
troops in great danger ; Mothanna retreated, re-
passed the river without loss, and fortified his
camp till he received supplies; his troops in the
mean time ravaging Irak on the side next the
Euphrates. A body of 12,000 Persian horse
was sent against these invaders, under Mahran.
The Persians had the advantage at first, and the
Arabs retired, but were soon brought back by
Mothanna : the battle lasted from noon till sun-
set ; at last Mothanna engaging Mahran in single
combat laid him dead at his feet ; on which the
Persians fled. After this a powerful army was
sent under the Persian general Rustam ; but he
was also killed, and his troops dispersed. Abu
Musa, another Saracen general, defeated a for-
midable body under Al Harzaman, a noble Per-
sian, at Athwaz. But of all Omar's generals,
Saad Ebn Abu Wakkas was the most successful.
With 12,000 troops he advanced to Kadesia, a
city bordering on the deserts of Irak ; where,
having defeated an army of 120,000 Persians, he
look the rich city of Al Madayen, with Yetde-
gerd's treasure ; which was so rich that Saad
took out of it 3000,000,000 of dinars, or
£2025,000,000 sterling ; besides the royal plate,
the crown and royal garments, another treasure
of 10,000,000 of crowns, and a piece of silk
tapestry sixty cubits square, so richly adorned
with gold, silver, and jewels, that Omar having
cut it in pieces, and distributed it among the Sa-
racens, a small part of it, which fell to Ali's share,
sold for 20,000 crowns. In the twenty-first year
of the Hegira the Saracens, still unsatisfied with
conquest, invaded Mesopotamia, under Aiyad
Ebn Ganem, where the city of Edessa submitted
at the first summons. He next marched to C'on-
stantina, the ancient Nicephorum, which he took
by storm, as well as Dara, where he massacred
the people; which so terrified the rest of the
fortified towns that they all submitted. Mo-
;:heirah KbnSaabah, another of Omar's generals,
took Shiz, a town famed for the birth of Zerdusht,
the Persian philosopher, and overran the pro-
vince of Adtrbeitzan. He also reduced Arme-
nia, and penetrated into Cappadocia. Saad the
?ame year took Athwas, the capital of Khusistan,
or Chusistan, the ancient Susiana, and reduced
the whole province ; while Al Nooraan conquered
the greatest part of Chorasan. But, while Omar's
troops were thus overrunning the finest countries
in the world, a period was put to his rife and con-
quests by a Persian, named Abu Lulua, who
stabbed him thrice in the belly, while performing
his devotions at Medina, because Omar had re-
fused to remit a tribute payable for the exercise
of his religion. The Arabs rushed upon the
assassin, but before they could get him over-
powered he murdered seven of them. Omar
languished three days, and died in the twelfth
year of his reign.
After the murder of Omar, Othman Ebn Assan
was chosen caliph; and AH was still kept out of
his right, though he had not only a better title,
but was in fact the most virtuous and best cha-
racter, and the bravest warrior of that period.
Othman was inaugurated in the twenty-fourth
year of the Hegira, or A. D. 645. He began his
reign by sending Al Mogheirah to complete the
conquest of Amadan ; which he soon accom-
plished, and also reduced Bira, a strong fort of
Mesopotamia. Another army, under Abdallah
Ebn Amur, was sent into Persia to reduce the
rest of Yezdegerd's dominions; which was done
so completely that Yezdegerd was obliged to fly
to Segestan, and leave Persia altogether. See
PERSIA. In the twenty-seventh year of the He-
gira Moawiyah reduced the islands of Cyprus
and Aradus ; and took Ancyra and Rhodes,
where he broke in pieces the famous colossus,
and sold the metal of it to a Jew of Edessa.
Another of Othman's commanders entered Isau-
ria, where he committed dreadful depredations,
plundering the towns and villages, murdering
many of the inhabitants, and carrying off 5000
prisoners. In the thirty-first year of the Hegira
Hebib, entering that part of Armenia which was
still unconquered, defeated a body of the impe-
rial troops, pursuing them to Mount Caucasus,
and laying waste the country ; and Abul Abar,
the admiral of the Saracens, defeated the empe-
ror Constans by sea, on the coast of Lycia. This
battle was so bloody that the sea was dyed with
blood. But, while Othman's arms were thus suc-
cessful abroad, a dangerous conspiracy was form-
ing against him at home. The accusations
against him were trifling and superstitious. To
mention but one — 'he had presumed to sit on
the top of Mahomet's pulpit, whereas Abu Beer
had only sat on the highest step, while Omar
was content with the lowest.' Otnman. however,
to all these formidable accusations pleaded guilty,
and promised amendment ; but this only in-
creased the insolence of the rebels. By the in-
fluence of AH, however, tranquillity was appa-
rently restored. Hut it was soon interrupted by
Ayesha, one of Mahomet's widows, who, by a
scheme of villany worthy of the widow of the
grand impostor, accomplished the destruction of
the caliph. Wishing to raise her favorite Telha
to the caliphate, she prevailed on Merwan, the
caliph's secretary, to write to the prefect of Egypt,
SARACENS.
29P
enjoining him to put to death Mahomet Ebn
Abu Beer, with whom the letter was sent, and
who was to have been his successor. This letter
Merwan took care should be discovered, and
Mahomet, taking it for genuine, published the
caliph's cruelty all over these countries. He
then marched with a body of rebels to Medina,
and besieged the caliph in his palace ; and, not-
withstanding Othman's protestations of inno-
cence, nothing but his death could satisfy the
rebels. Othman applied to AH for assistance,
who sent his two sons Hassan and Hosein, who
defended the palace with great courage, till, wa-
ter failing, they were obliged to abandon it ;
upon which the rebels entered and murdered the
caliph, in the eighty-second year of his age, and
twelfth of his reign. His body remained three
days unburied, when it was thrown into a hole
without any solemnity.
Mahomet's omission of naming a successor to
the caliphate is totally unaccountable ; and, as
we have seen, threw the dignity out of his family
during three successive reigns. His son-in-law
Ali repeatedly claimed the succession, and
doubtless had the best right, yet always peacea-
bly submitted to the election of other persons.
The Arabs, by their giving the preference to
others, seem to have been influenced by no mo-
tive whatever but this republican idea, that it
should not be established as a principle that the
apostleship or caliphate should be reckoned an
hereditary dignity. On the death of Othman,
however, Ali's amiable qualities triumphed over
all opposition, and he was unanimously elected.
Besides his other popular qualities, he was a
man of such unparalleled courage and strength,
that he never declined a combat to which he was
challenged, nor ever failed to come off victor;
whence he was styled by the Arabs The lion of
God. Great as Ali's merits were, however, he
was not without his enemies. Among these
Mahomet's widow, Ayesha, was the most con-
spicuous. At the time of Ali's inauguration she
was at Mecca, where she possessed a considera-
ble share of power. She very early began to
plot against him, and Ali raised up against him-
self another very powerful enemy, by imprudently
dismissing Moawiyah from his government of
Syria, who, whatever malversations he was guilty
of, should not have been displaced till Ali's go-
vernment was more firmly established. The
consequence was that Moawiyah was immedi-
ately proclaimed caliph by his troops, and thus
the Saracens were divided into two factions ;
the one under Moawiyuh and Ayesha, adhering
to the house of Ommiya, to which Othman and
Moawiyah belonged, the other to Ali. The for-
mer were called Motazalitus, or Separatists; the
latter Sephalites. Ali, finding a strong party
forming against him, applied to the Koreish, to
raise an army against Ayesha, who had begun
hostilities and taken the city of Basra. Ziyad Ebn
Ilantelah, the Ansars, and a great number of people
joined Ali. At Arrabah he was joined by many
other parties ; from Medina he yot a large sup-
ply of horses, and from Cufa 8000 men. He
then advanced to Basra, attacked and defeated
the troops of Ayesha, and took the prophet's
widow prisoner, though her troops were so zea-
lous in her defence, that seventy men had their
hands cut off successively, who held her camel by
the bridle. Ali, however, treated her very kindly,
and at first set her at liberty, but afterwards con-
fined her to her house at Medina, to prevent her
from interfering farther instate affairs. After this
victory AH had no more enemies to contend
with in Arabia, Egypt, Irak, Persia, or Chora-
son. But a strong party of rebels still remained
in Syria headed by Moawiyah, who was soon
joined by Amru Ebn Al Ats. Ali, after in vain
attempting to bring the rebels to an accommo-
dation, entered Syria with 70,000 men, while
that of Moawiyah amounted to 80,000. By re-
inforcements the former was increased to 90,000,
and the latter to 120,000. The armies came
within sight of each other in the end of the thirty-
sixth year of the Hegira. The first month of the
thirty-seventh was spent in fruitless negociations ;
after which they fought in different parties, with-
out hazarding a general engagement. These battles
lasted about 110 days, during which Moawiyah
lost 45,000 men and Ali 25,000. Among these
was Ali's general of horse, Ammar Ebn Yazar,
who was above ninety years old, and had been
much esteemed by Mahomet, and was one of his
companions. The loss of him so enraged Ali,
that he challenged Moawiyah to fight him in sin-
gle combat. This, however, the coward refused,
though Amru urged him to accept. The battle
was then renewed with great fury ; Moawiyah's
troops were pushed to their camp, which would
certainly have been taken, had not Amru retriev-
ed Moawiyah's affairs, when just on the brink of
destruction, by a stratagem. He ordered some
of his men to fix copies of the Koran to the points
of their lances, and carry them to the front of the
battle, crying out, 'This is the book that ought
to decide all differences ; this is the book of God,
that prohibits the effusion of rnussulmans blood.'
Ali's troops on this threw down their arms, and
thus was decisive victory wrested from him
when almost gained. The two parties then
agreed to choose each his arbitrator. Moawiyah
chose Amru, but Ali was again shuffled out of
his right, the troops of Irak naming for him Abu
Musa, a man who had already betrayed him.
The consequence was that Ali was deposed; to
which sentence he submitted, but without laying
down his arms. After this AH retired to Cufa,
where 12,000 of his troops, called Kharejites,
pretending to be offended with the step he had
taken, revolted. They insisted that he ought not
to keep the peace with Moawiyah, but pursue
him without mercy. But Ali replied that, as he
had given his word, he must keep it. They then
chose Abdallah Ebn Waheb their general, who
appointed for their rendezvous Naharwan, a town
between Waset and Bagdad, four miles east of
the Tigris, where they collected an army of
25,000 men. Ali at last marched against them,
but previously proclaimed quarter and pardon to
all who should return to his standard. This
measure soon reduced Abdallah 's troops to 4000
men, with whom he rushed upon Ali's forces,
who cut them all to pieces except nine. Had
AH marched immediately against Moawiyah, he
had probably reduced him entirely; but he seems
to have considered the agreement as binding,
300
SARACENS.
and therefore acted only on the defensive. At
last the Kharejites, wishing to ged rid of Moa-
wiyah, Amru, and Ali, sent assassins to murder
all the three. Moawiyah was wounded, but re-
covered ; Amru's secretary was killed by mis-
take; but Ali was wounded with a poisoned
sword, which proved mortal. The assassin was
taken, and would have been pardoned had Ali
recovered ; but he ordered him to be put to
death if he died, ' that he might accuse him before
God.' Even in this, however, Ali showed his
clemency, by ordering him to be killed at one
blow, without torture. Thus fell Ali, the most
virtuous of all the caliphs, after he had reigned
nearly five years, and lived sixty-three.
Hassan the son of Ali, who inherited all his
father's virtues except his courage, was declared
caliph immediately upon Ali's death. Moa-
wiyah soon showed his hostile intentions, and
Hassan's friends pressed him to declare war im-
mediately ; but, though they prevailed with him
to take the field, his disposition was too mild
and peaceable : and he himself, sensible of his
incapacity to dispute the empire with Moawiyah,
in spite of the remonstrances of his friends, re-
signed it to that villain ; who some years after
caused him to be poisoned by his own wife.
Moawiyah, now sole master of the empire, re-
solved to reduce the Kharejites, who were still
rebellious. In this service he offered Hassan
the command of the arfny, but that prince de-
clined it. He then sent the Syrian troops against
them, but they were defeated. At last the
Cufans were employed, who quickly put an end
to the rebellion. In the forty-eighth year of the
Hegira the caliph sent his son Yezid, with a
powerful army, to besiege Constantinople. In
this expedition he was accompanied by three or
four of those associates of Mahomet whom he
had dignified with the title of his companions,
who, notwithstanding their great age, were
prompted by zeal to undergo incredible fatigues.
But, in spite of the zeal of these veterans, the ex-
pedition proved unsuccessful ; and in it one of
them, viz. Abu Ayub, who had been with Maho-
met at the battles of Bedr and Ohod, lost his
life. His tomb is still held in the highest vene-
ration by all Mussulmans. In the fifty-fourth
year of the Hegira the Saracens made an irrup-
tion into Bukharia, and defeated the Turkish
army, killing great numbers of them. About
this time a treaty was concluded between the
emperor Constantine IV. and the Saracens,
whereby the latter were allowed to keep the ter-
ritories they had seized, but bound to pay 3000 Ibs.
of gold annually, fifty slaves, and fifty good
horses. This treaty was to last thirty years. In
the fifty-fifth year of the Hegira, Moawiyah con-
ferred the government of Chorasan upon Saad,
Othman's grandson, who soon after passed the
Jihun, or Amu (the ancient Oxus), and advanc-
ed with a body of troops to Samarcand, which
instantly surrendered to him ; soon after which,
lie defeated an army of Usbeck Tartars, and
marcned directly to Tarmud, which also surren-
dered. The fifty-seventh year of the hegira was
remarkable for nothing but vast swarms of lo-
custs which did incredible damage in Syria and
Mesopotamia. In the fifty-eighth Ayeslia, Ma-
homet's widow died, and in the sixtieth Moa-
wiyah himself, after having reigned from Hassan's
resignation, nineteen years five months and five
days. He was interred at Damascus.
On Moawiyah's death his son Yezid was im-
mediately proclaimed, April 7th, 680. He wrote
to Al Walid, the governor of Medina, to seize
Hosein, the remaining son of Ali, and Abdallah
Ebn Zobeir, if they refused to acknowledge his
right ; but they escaped to Mecca ; on which
Jediz displaced Al Walid, and appointed Amru
Ebn Saad governor in his stead. Amru imme-
diately sent against Abdallah his own brother
Amer, who mortally hated him ; but Abdallah
engaged and took him prisoner, which raised
his fame at Medina. Mean time Hosein, as the
only heir of Ali, became very popular at Mecca,
Medina, Irak, and Cufa ; and the Cufans even
raised an army of 18,000 men in his favor ; and
promised to raise 120,000 more ; but all Hosein's
hopes were soon frustrated, and himself killed
in an engagement with Obeidallah. Yezid did
himself honor by treating Hosein's family with
kindness. In the sixty-first year of the Hegira
Yezid appointed Salem Ebn Ziyad governor of
Chorasan, who soon after made an irruption into
the Turkish territories. He sent a body of troops
to Khowarazm, the capital of the Tartars, from
which he extorted 50,000,000 of money : whence
advancing to Samarcand, he compelled the peo-
ple of that city also to pay him an immense
sum. Meantime Abdallah Ebn Zobeir, being,
by the death of Hosein, at the head of the house
of Hashem, began to aspire to the caliphate, and
was proclaimed caliph at Medina, on the arrival
of Hosein's family. He then expatiated on Ho-
sein's tragical death, and accused the Cufans of
being the most perfidious villains on earth. This
pleased the citizens of Mecca and Medina, who
flocked to him in crowds, so that he soon had a
great crmy. Yezid, hearing of all this, swore
he would have him in chains, and sent a silver
collar for him to Merwan, governor of Medina.
At last the people of Medina renounced their al-
legiance to Yezid, and formally deposed him in
a whimsical but expressive manner, throwing
aside their turbans, shoes, &c., and saying, ' I
lay aside Yezid as I do this turban, or shoe,' &c.
They then banished Yezid's governor, and all
his friends, who, to the number of 1000, took
refuge in the house of Merwan Ebn Al llaken,
where, being besieged by Abdallah's party, they
sent to Yezid for assistance, who detached a body
of troops under Moslem Ebn Okba to Medina
for that purpose. The people of Medina, on
this, allowed Yezid's friends to withdraw ; but
Moslem advanced at the head of 5000 foot and
12,000 horse, and summoned the town to sur-
render ; which being refused, the garrison made
a vigorous defence, but, the principal officers being
killed, the city was taken by storm ; all the men
who had borne arms were massacred, the women
ravished, and the city pillaged. Ali alone, the
son of Hosein, was treated with respect. By this
severity Moslem incurred the anathema pro-
nounced by Mahomet against those who should
pillage Medina. After this Moslem proceeded
to Mecca, where Abdallah had retired ; but he
died by the road, and the command dcvchd
SARACENS.
301
upon Hosein Ebn Thamir, who advanced to
Mecca and besieged it forty days, battering it
with such fury that he beat down its famous
temple ; and it must soon have shared the fate
of Medina had not the news of Yezid's death
stopped further operations. Yezid died in his
thirty-ninth year, the sixty-second of the Hegira,
or A. D. 684, having reigned only three years and
eight months.
'Yezid was succeeded by his son Moawiyah
II., who was proclaimed caliph at Damascus on
his father's death; but, being of a weak consti-
tution, he resigned the crown in six weeks, and
died soon after. Great commotions followed.
Obeidallah was become so unpopular by his
cruelties, particularly by the death of Hosein,
that he was obliged to fly into Syria ; on which
his house was plundered by the mob. In this
confusion Abdallah might have easily secured the
caliphate, had he not, with equal imprudence and
cruelty, ordered the house of Ommiyah to be
exterminated. This ruined his affairs ; for they
being obliged to fly for safety, Merwan was pro-
claimed caliph at Damascus, and thus the Sara-
cen empire was once more rent into two factions.
A battle soon ensued between Dahak Ebn Kais,
who favored Abdallah, and the troops of Mer-
wan, in which Dahak was defeated and killed,
and thus Merwan became master of Syria. Soon
after he advanced with a body of troops to Egypt,
but sent before him Amru Ebn Said with a de-
tachment, who defeated Abdalrahman, Abdal-
lah's lieutenant, in several brisk actions, till he
at last surrendered the whole country to Mer-
wan, for a sum of money, and retired to Hedsjaz.
The Syrian troops immediately took possession
of the country ; and Merwan, having appointed
his son Abdalazziz over Egypt, returned to Da-
mascus. He then sent Amru Abn Said against
Musab, Abdallah's brother, whom he totally de-
feated. In the sixty-fifth year of the Hegira the
Cufans, pretending remorse for their treachery
to Hosein, raised an insurrection against both
caliphs, and assembled 16,000 men under Soli-
man to avenge the death of Hosein. Al Mockh-
tar, who had served under Abdallah, offered to
serve instead of Soliman, who he said was inca-
pable of executing the enterprise. This being
refused, he drew off 2000 from Soliman, while
other 10,000 left him. So enthusiastic, however,
was Soliman in the affair, that he set forward to
Syria with the remaining 4000, who were all cut
to pieces by Obeidallah, who was at the head of
20,000. Soon after this died the caliph Merwan,
after a short reign of eleven months, being poi-
soned by Seinab, Moawiyah's widow, whom he
had married.
Merwan was succeeded by his son Abdalma-
lec, who released Al Mokhtar, who had been im-
prisoned by the governor of Cufa. Al Mokhtar
soon after hearing that Abdallah had imprisoned
the whole descendants of the celebrated caliph
Ali, and was going to put them to death, sent a
body of 750 horse to Mecca under Abu Abdalla
for their relief, which they accomplished, and
took Abdallah himself prisoner, two days before
they were all to have been murdered. After
this they settled on a mountain near Mecca with
a body of 4000 men. Al Mokhtar next attacked
and killed Obeidallah ; but was soon after defeat-
ed and slain by Musab, and all his men to the
number of 7000, though they surrendered at dis-
cretion, were also slain for their former outrages.
Next year, the sixty-eighth of the Hegira, the
Azarakites made an irruption into Irak, pene-
trating to Cufa and Al Madayen, and committing
the most horrid cruelties, murdering all they
met with, and sparing neither age nor sex. The
governor of Mesopotamia carried on a war with
them for eight months. Musab sent against them
Omar Ebn Abdallah, who gave them a great
overthrow, slaughtered great numbers of them,
and pursued the rest as far as Ispahan and Ker-
man. Returning a second time Omar totally
defeated and dispersed them. In the sixty-ninth
year of the Hegira Abdalmalec marched against
Musab. In his absence he left Amru Ebn Said
governor of the city, who immediately seized it
for himself; on which Abdalmalec returned.
After some skirmishes between the caliph's troops
and those of Amru, a treaty was agreed upon ;
which Abdalmalec broke immediately after by
murdering Amru with his own hand. Upon this
Yahyah, Amru's brother, at the head of 1000
slaves, attacked the palace and killed the guards,
but were quelled afterwards, partly by money.
In the seventieth year of the Hegira the Greeks
made an "irruption into Syria; and the caliph
was obliged to pay a tribute of 1000 dinars per
day, and sent annually 365 slaves and 365 horses
to Constantinople. The revenues of Cyprus,
Armenia, and Heria, were agreed to be divided.
Abdalmalec next marched against Musab, whom
he defeated and killed through the treachery of
his troops. The caliph went to Cufa, where all
ranks submitted and swore to him. He then
ordered money to be distributed among the peo-
ple, and gave a splendid entertainment to all
his new subjects, from which even the meanest
were not excluded. During this entertainment
Musab's head was presented to the caliph ; on
which one of the company said, ' I saw Hosein's
head in this same castle presented to Obeidallah ;
Obeidallah's to Al Mokhtar; Al Mokhtar's to
Musab ; and now at last Musab's to yourself.'
The caliph was so struck with this remark, that,
to divert the ill omen, he ordered the castle to
be instantly demolished. Abdallah Ebn Zobier,
hearing of the defeat and death of -his brother,
put Mecca in a proper state of defence. Abdal-
malec, on his return from Damascus, appointed
his brother Basbar governor of Cafu, and Khaled
Ebn Abdallah governor of Basra ; who impru-
dently displaced Al Mohalleb, one of the
greatest generals of the age, from the command
of the army, and put in his place Abdalaziz, a
man much inferior. The barbarous Azarakites
no sooner heard of this than they attacked Ab-
dalaziz, entirely defeated, and took his wife pri-
soner. A dispute arising among them about
the price of the lady, one of them, to end it, cut
off her head. On this disaster Khaled was or-
dered to replace Al Mohalleb, which he no
sooner did than they in conjunction attacked the
Azarakites, forced their camp, and completely
defeated them. In the seventy-second year of the
Hegira Abdalmalec prepared to invade Hedsjaz,
and appointed Al Hejaj, one of his bravest ge-
302
S A R A C E N S.
nerals, commander. After several skirmishes,
wherein Abdallah's troops had the worst, most
of Abdallah's friends, two of his sons, and 10,000
inhabitants of Mecca, deserted him. In this ex-
treirity he consulted with his mother, whether
he should submit to the caliph or not ; but she,
being a high-spirited woman, the daughter of
Abu Beer, the second caliph, advised him against
it; whereupon, in a fit of despair, he plunged
into the midst of his enemies without his usual
coat of mail, and, after slaughtering great num-
bers of them, was killed. Al Hejaj cut off his
head and fixed his body to a cross ; which had
a strong odor of musk for several days after, his
mother having given him a draught in which a
pound of musk was infused, to inspire him with
courage. By the reduction of Mecca Abdalma-
lec was now sole master of the empire, but he
suffered a great loss the next year, having an
army of 100,000 men cut off by the Khazarians
in Armenia. The governor, however, marched
against them soon after at the head of 40,000
chosen troops, penetrated into the heart of Arme-
nia, defeated a large body of them, and drove
them into their temples, to which he set fire.
One of his generals also defeated 80,000 Khaza-
rians at the Caspian gates, killed a great num-
ber of them, and compelled the rest to turn Ma-,
hometans. Al Hejaj, for his services, was made
governor of Medina, and then of Irak, Chorasan,
and Sejestan, in all which places he behaved
with the greatest cruelty, and yet he was conti-
nued in these governments till he died. In the
seventy-sixth year of th« Hegira Saleh Ebn Marj,
and Shebib Ebri Seid, a Kharejite, rebelled
against the caliph. Saleh was proclaimed empe-
ror of the faithful at Daras in Mesopotamia. At
first they were successful, and defeated even Al
Hejaj himself; but at last were defeated and
killed, and their troops slaughtered and dis-
persed. In the seventy-sixth year of the Hegira
Abdalmalec erected the first mint in Arabia, and
struck gold and silver coins. Before this period
their dinars or gold coins had Greek inscriptions,
and their dirhems or silver coins Persian. The
caliph now struck dirhems with the Arabic
words, Alia Samad, i. e. God is eternal, upon
them; which offended some superstitious Mus-
sulmans, who thought the name of God would
thus be profaned by the touch of the unclean. In
the seventy-seventh year of the Hegira, the Sara-
cens made an incursion into the imperial terri-
tories, when Lazica and Bernucium were betrayed
to them. In the seventy-eighth they over-ran
Africa Proper, and demolished the city of Car-
thage. They were driven out by John the Patri-
cian, but, returning with a superior force, they
made John fly to Constantinople. In the year
seventy-nine Abdalrahman rebelled in Persia ;
and drove the khan or emperor of the Turks,
Tartars, and Moguls, out of that country ; but in
eighty, Heraclius, the Greek general, penetrated
into Syria, as far as Samosata, killed 200,000
Saracens, and ravaged the country dreadfully.
At last, after about eighty battles, or as some say
100, Abdalrnhman was defeated and killed by
Al Hejaj. In the eighty-third year of the Hegira
the Armenian nobolity revolting, drove the Arabs
out of that province ; but Mahomet, a general
of the caliph's, entering it witli a powerful army,
got the authors of the revolt into his hands, and
caused them to be burnt alive. The Saracens
then invaded Cilicia, under one Azar, but were,
to the number of 10,000 the one year, and 12,000
the next, cut in pieces by Heraclius, and the
rest forced to fly. In the year eighty-six Abdal-
malec died, after a reign of twenty-one years.
Abdalmalec was succeeded by his son Al
Walid, who greatly extended the Saracen empire.
In the first year of his reign one of his generals
passed the Jihun, and defeated a numerous army
of Turks and Tartars. He then over-ran and re-
duced Sogdiana, Bagrass, Shash, Targana, and
the whole immense tract called Mawaralnahar,
or Great Bukharia. He also conquered the
khan of Khowarazm, and forced him to pay an
annual tribute of 2,000,000 of dinars. Another
of his generals, called Mahomet, made an irrup-
tion into India, and conquered a great part of
that country. He also subdued the kingdom of
Al Sind, between Persia and India ; when
Derar the king of it was defeated and killed,
and had his head cut off by Mahomet. In the
ninetieth year of the Hegira the Saracens made
an irruption intc- Cappadocia, defeated the impe-
rial army, and took the city of Tyana. In the
two following years they repeated their incur-
sions under Othman, took several cities, and car-
ried off numbers of slaves. In the year ninety-
three, or A. D. 712, Tarek Ebu Zarka, made a
descent on Spain, defeated Roderick, the last
king of the Goths, reduced Toledo, and over ran
a great part of the kingdom. Being joined by
Musa, commander of the African Moslems, they
took most of the forts and subdued the whole
country. In these expeditions they acquired
immense spoils, particularly a very rich table,
called Solomon's table, of gold, silver, and pearls,
and standing on 365 feet. In ninety-four Tarick
landed a body of 12,000 men at Gibraltar, with
which he plundered Hispania Bsetica, and great
part of Lusitania. Roderick's troops being new
raised were unable to resist these hardy invaders.
Another Saracen general entered Pisidia, ravaged
the country, and took Antioch. In the year
ninety-five Hejaj died, after a cruel government
of twenty years; during which period he killed
120,000 men, and suffered 50,000 men and
30,000 women to perish in prisons. This ysr.r
also the Saracens completely defeated Roderick
king of the Goths, who was killed in the battle;
and Tarif amassed immense riches. In the east
these plunderers were equally successful. Mos-
lema ravaged the whole province of Galatia, car-
rying off rich spoils, and many prisoners. But,
wMle Al Walid was preparing to invade Con-
stantinople, he died in the sixty-ninth year of
the Hegira.
The caliph Al Walid was succeeded by his
brother Soliman. This year the Saracen con-
quests on the east side were increased by the re-
duction of Tabrestan and Jurgon or Georgia.
In Spain also the city of Toledo, which had re-
volted, was reduced, and Caesar-Augusta, now
Saragossa, as well as several others. The next
year Moslema set out for Constantinople, which
he besieged without success till the ninety-ninth
year of the Hegira; when he was obliged to re-
SARACENS.
303
turn, after having lost before it 120,000 men.
The soldiers were reduced to the greatest extre-
mities of hunger, oeing forced to live upon hides,
he roots and bark of trees, the most noisome
animals, and even the dead bodies of their com-
panions. This year also (the ninety-ninth) the
caliph Soliman died. According to some, he
was poisoned by Yezid his brother, governor of
Persia, who was displeased- with his having ap-
pointed his cousin-german Omar Ebn Abdala-
ziz as his successor, to the exclusion of himself.
According to others, he died of an indigestion ;
which is not to be wondered at, if, as those au-
thors say, he used to devour lOOlbs. of meat
every day, and dine very heartily after eating
three lambs roasted for breakfast. In the latter
part of his reign, the Moors were by no means
successful in Spain ; the kingdom of Navarre
being founded at this time by Pelagius, or Pe-
layo, whom the Arabs were never able to reduce.
The new caliph Omar Ebn Abdalaziz was by no
means of a martial character ; but is said to
have been very pious, and possessed of very
amiable qualities. He suppressed the usual
malediction, which was solemnly pronounced by
the caliphs of the house of Ommiyah against the
house of AH; and always showed great kindness
to the latter. He was poisoned by Yezid, after a
short reign of two years and five months. Con-
cerning Yezid II., the successor of Omar, we
find very little worth mentioning. He did not
long enjoy the dignity he had so iniquitously
purchased, dying after a reign of about four
years. He died of grief for a favorite concubine
named Hababah, who was accidently choked by
a large grape which stuck in her throat. Yezid
was succeeded by his brother Hesham, who as-
cended the throne in the 105th year of the He-
gira. In the second and third years of his reign
several incursions were made into the imperial
territories, but generally without success. In the
109th year Moslema drove the Turks out of
Armenia and Adirbeitzan, and again confined
them within the Caspian gates. The next year
he obliged them to take an oath that they would
keep their own country ; but this they soon vio-
lated, and were again driven back by Moslema.
About this time also the Arabs, having passed the
Pyrenees, invaded France to the number of
400,000, including women and slaves, under the
command of one Abdalrahman. Having ad-
vanced to Aries, upon the Rhone, they defeated
a large body of French that opposed them : and,
having also defeated count Eudo, they pursued
him through several provinces, wasted the coun-
try with fire and sword, and took the city of
Tours, most of which they reduced to ashes.
Here, however, a stop was put to to their devas-
tations by Charles Martel ; who, coming up with
them near Tours, engaged them for seven days
together, and at last gave them a total overthrow.
He took a».l their baggage and riches ; and Ab-
dalrahman, with the shattered remains of his army,
reached the frontiers of Spain with difficulty.
The following year also the Arabs were over-
thrown at Illiberis, scarcely any of them escap-
ing. To make amends for this bad fortune,
however, the caliph's arms were successful against
the Turks, who had again invaded some of the
eastern provinces. In the 125lh year of the
Hegira died the caliph Hesham, after a reign of
nineteen years seven months and eleven days.
He was succeeded by Al Walid II., who is re-
presented as a man of a most dissolute life and
was assassinated the following year on account of
his professing Zendicism, a species of infidelity
nearly resembling Sadducoeism.
Al Walid II. was succeeded by Yezid III.,
the son of Al Walid I., who died of the plague
after a reign of six months ; and was succeeded
by Ibrahim Ebn Al Walirl, an imprudent and
stupid prince. He was deposed in the 127th
year of the Hegira by Merwan Ebn Mahomet,
the governor of Mesopotamia ; who gave out, as
an excuse for his revolt, that he intended to re-
venge the murder of the caliph Al Walid II.
He was no sooner seated on the throne, than the
people of Hems rebelled against him. Against
them the caliph marched with a powerful army,
and summoned them to surrender. They as-
sured him that they would admit him into their
city ; and, accordingly, one of the gates bein^
opened, Merwan entered with about 300 of his
troops. The men that entered with him were
immediately put to the sword ; and the culipli
himself escaped with great difficulty. However,
he afterwards defeated them in a pitched battle,
put a great number of them to the sword, dis-
mantled the city, and crucified 600 of the prin-
cipal authors of the revolt. The inhabitants of
Damascus soon followed the example of those of
Hems, and deposed the caliph's governor; but
Merwan marched to Damascus with great cele-
rity, entered the city by force, and punished the
authors of the revolt. Peace, however, was no
Sooner established at Damascus, than Soliman
Ebn Hesham set up for himself at Basra, where
he was proclaimed caliph by the inhabitants.
Here he assembled an army of 10,000 men, with
whom he marched to Kinnissin, where he was
joined by vast numbers of Syrians. Merwan,
receiving advice of Soliman's rapid progress,
marched against him with all the forces he could
assemble, and entirely defeated him. In this
battle Soliman lost 30,000 men, so that he was
obliged to fly to Hems, where 900 men took an
oath to stand by him to the last. Having ven-
tured, however, to attack the caliph's forces a
second time, he was defeated, and again forced
to fly to Hems. But, being closely pursued by
Merwan, he constituted his brother Said governor
of the city, leaving with him the shattered re-
mains of his troops, and himself fled to Tadmor.
Soon after his departure Merwan appeared be-
fore the town, which he besieged for seven
months; during which time he battered it inces-
santly with eighty catapults. The citizens, being
reduced to the last extremity, surrendered, and
delivered Said into the caliph's hands. In con-
sideration of this submission, Merwan pardoned
the rebels, and took them all under his protec-
tion. About the same time, another pretender
to the caliphate appeared at Cufa; but Merwan
took his measures so well that he extinguished
this rebellion before it could come to any height.
Notwithstanding the success, however, that had
hitherto attended Merwan, a strong party was
formed against him in Khorasan by the house of
304
SARACENS.
Al Abbas. The first of that house that made any
considerable figure was named Mahomet, who
Nourished in the reian of Omar Ebn Abdalaziz.
He was appointed chief of the house of Al Ab-
bas, about the 100th year of the Hegira ; and is
said to have prophesied, that after his death, one
of his sons named Ibrahim should preside over
them till he was killed, and that his other son
Abdallah, surnamed Abul Abbas Al Saffah,
should be caliph, and exterminate the house of
Ommiyah. Upon this Al Saffah was introduced
as the future sovereign, and those present kissed
his hands and feet. After the decease of Maho-
met, his son Ibrahim nominated as his represen-
tative in Khorasan one Abu Moslem, a youth of
nineteen years of age ; who beginning to raise
forces in that province, Merwan despatched
against him a body of horse under Nasr Ebn
Sayer ; but that general was entirely defeated by
Abu Moslem, and the greatest part of his men
killed. The next year (the 128th of the Hegira)
Merwan made vast preparations to oppose Abu
Moslem, who after the late victory began to grow
formidable. Merwan gained two victories over
some of Ibrahim's generals ; but, the year follow-
ing, Abu Moslem brought such a formidable
army into the field that the caliph's troops could
not make head against them; his officers in
Khorasan therefore were obliged either to take
an oath of allegiance to Ibrahim, or to quit the
province within a limited time. In the 1 30th year
of the Hegira the caliph's general Nasr, having
drawn together another army, was again defeated
by Kahtabah, another of Ibrahim's generals, and
forced to fly to Raya, a town of Dylam, or of
Khorasan. The next year Ibrahim, having fool-
ishly taken it into his head to go on a pilgrimage
to Mecca, attended by a numerous retinue splen-
didly accoutred, was seized and put to death by
Merwan : and the year following Abul Abbas
was proclaimed caliph at Cufa. As soon as the
ceremony was ended, he sent his uncle Abdallah
with a powerful army to attack Merwan's forces
that were encamped near Tubar, at a small dis-
tance from Mosul, where that caliph was then
waiting for an account of the success of his troops
under Yezid governor of Irak against Khataba,
one of Al Saffah 's generals. Khataba, receiving
advice of Yczid's approach, immediately advanc-
ed against him, and entirely defeated him ; but
in crossing the Euphrates, the waters of which
were greatly swelled, he was carried away by
the current and drowned. The pursuit, how-
ever, was continued by his son Hamid, who dis-
persed the fugitives in such a manner that they
could never afterwards be rallied. At the news
of this disaster, Merwan was at first greatly dis-
pirited ; but, soon recovering himself, he ad-
vanced to meet Abdallah. In the beginning of
the battle, the caliph happened to dismount ;
and his troop perceiving their sovereign's horse
without his rider, concluded that he was killed,
and therefore immediately fled ; nor was it in
the power of the caliph himself to rally them
again, so that he was forced to fly to Damascus;
but the inhabitants of that city, seeing his con-
dition desperate, shut their gates against him.
Upon this he fled to Egypt, where he maintained
himself for some time; but was at last attacked
and killed by Saleh, Abdallah 's brother, in a town
ofThebais called Busir Kurides. The citizens of
Damascus, though they had shamefully deserted
Merwan, refused to open their gates to the vic-
tors ; upon which Saleh entered the city by
force, and gave it up to be plundered for three
days by his soldiers.
By the total defeat and death of Merwan, Al
Saffah remained sole master of the Saracen
throne ; but no very remarkable events happened
during his reign ; only he massacred great num-
bers of the partisans of the house of Ommiyah ;
and Constantine Copronymus, taking advantage
of the intestine divisions among the Saracens,
ravaged Syria. The caliph died of the small
pox in the 136th year of the Hegira, in the thirty-
third year of his age ; and was succeeded by his
brother Al Mansur. In the beginning of Al
Mausur's reign hostilities continued against the
house of Ommiyah, who still made resistance,
but were always defeated. Abdallah, however,
the caliph's uncle, caused himself to be pro-
claimed caliph at Damascus ; and having as-
sembled a powerful army in Arabia, Syria, and
Mesopotamia, advanced with great expedition
to the banks of the Masius near Nisibis, where he
encamped. Al Mansur, being informed of this
rebellion, despatched Abu Moslem against Ab-
dallah. This general, having harassed him for
five months together, at last brought him to a
general action ; and, having entirely defeated
him, forced him to fly to Basra. Notwithstand-
ing all his services, however, Abu Moslem was
soon after ungratefully and barbarously mur-
dered by Al Mansur, on some ridiculous pre-
tences of being deficient in respect towards him.
After the death of Abu Moslem, one Sinan, a
Magian, or adorer of fire, having made himself
master of that general's treasures, revolted against
the caliph ; but he was soon defeated by Jamhur
Ebn Morad, who had been sent against him with
a powerful army. In this expedition Jamhur
having acquired immense riches, the covetous
disposition of the caliph prompted him to send
a person express to the army to seize upon all
the wealth. This so provoked Jamhur that he
immediately turned his arms against his master;
but was soon defeated, and entirely reduced.
The following year (the 139th of the Hegira) one
Abdalrahman, of the house of Ommiyah, after
the entire ruin of that family in Asia, arrived in
Spain, where he was acknowledged caliph ; nor
did he or his descendants ever afterwards own
subjection to the Arabian caliphs. The 140th
year of the Hegira is remarkable for an attempt
to assassinate the caliph. This attempt was made
by the Rawandians ; an impious sect, who held
the doctrine of metempsychosis or transmigra-
tion. They first offered Al Mansur divine
honors, by going in procession round his palace,
as the Moslems were wont to do round the
Caab ; but the caliph, highly incensed at ciiis
impiety, ordered 100 of the principal of them to
be imprisoned. These, however, were soon re-
leased by their companions ; who then went in
a body to the palace with an intention to murder
their sovereign ; but he being a person of un-
common bravery, though he was surprised with
very few attendants, mounted a mule, and ad-
SARACENS.
305
Tanced towards the mutineers witli an intention
to sell his life as dearly as possible. In the mean
time, Maan Ebn Zaidat, one of the chiefs of the
Ommiyan faction, who had concealed himself to
avoid the caliph's resentment, sallied out of his
retreat, and, putting himself at the head of Al
Mansur's attendants, charged the rebels with
such fury that he entirely defeated them. This
generosity of Maan was so remarkable that it
afterwards passed into a proverb. On tliis oc-
casion 6000 of the Rawandians were killed on
the spot, and the caliph delivered from instant
death ; he was, however, so much disgusted with
the Arabs, on account of this attempt, that he
resolved to remove the capital of his empire out
of their peninsula ; and accordingly founded a
new city on the banks of the Tigris, named Bag-
dad. The foundations of it were laid in the 158th
vear of the Hegira, and finished four years after.
On the removal of the seat of government to Bag-
dad, the peninsula of the Arabs seems all at once
to have lost its consequence, and in a short time
the inhabitants seem even to have detached them-
selves from the jurisdiction of the caliphs; for
in the 156th year of the Hegira, while Al Man-
sur was yet living, they made irruptions into
Syria and Mesopotamia, as if they had designed
to conquer these countries over again for them-
selves ; and though the Arabs, properly so called,
continued nominally subject to the caliphs of
Bagdad till the abolition of the caliphate by
Hulaku the Tartar, yet they did not become sub-
ject to him when he became master of that city.
From the building of the city of Bagdad to
the death of Al Mansur nothing very remarkable
happened, excepting some irruptions made into
the territories of the Greeks, and by the Arabs into
some of the caliph's other territories. In the
157th year of the Hegira, also, a grievous famine
was felt in Mesopotamia, which was quickly
after followed by a plague that destroyed great
numbers. This year likewise, the Christians,
who had been all along very severely dealt with
by Al Mansur, were treated with the utmost
rigor by Musa Ebn Mosaab the caliph's gover-
nor ; every one who was unable to pay the enor-
mous tribute exacted of them being thrown into
prison. In the 158th year of the Hegira, the
caliph set out from Bagdad to perform the pil-
grimage to Mecca ; but, being taken ill on the
road, he expired at Bir Maimun, whence his
body was carried to Mecca ; where, after 100
graves had been dug, that his sepulchre might
be concealed, he was interred, having lived, ac-
cording to sone, sixty-three, according to others,
sixty-eight years, and reigned twenty-two. He
was extremely covetous, and left in his treasury
600,000,000 dirhems, and 24,000,000 dinars.
He is reported to have paid his cook by assign-
ing him the heads and legs of the animals dressed
in his kitchen, and to have obliged him to pro-
cure at his own expense all the fuel and vessels
he had occasion for. When Al Mansur expired
at Bir Maimun, he had only his domestics and
Rabi his freed man with him. The latter, for some
time, kept h'is death concealed, and pretended to
have a conference with him ; in which, as he
gave out, the caliph commanded him to exact an
oath of allegiance to Al Mohdi his son, as his
VOL. XIX.
immediate successor, and to Isa Ebn Musa his
cousin german, as the next apparent heir to the
crown. He then despatched a courier to Bag-
dad with the news of Al Mansur's death : upon
which Al Mohni was unanimously proclaimed
caliph. Isa Ebn Musa, however, no sooner
heard this news than he began to entertain
thoughts of setting up for himself at Cufa, where
he then resided ; and, to facilitate the execution
of his scheme, fortified himself in that city. But
Al Mohdi, being apprized of his defection, sent a
detachment of 1000 horse to bring him to Bag-
dad ; which being done, Al Mohni not only
prevailed upon him to own his allegiance to
him, but also to give up his right to the suc-
cession for 10,000 according to some, or ac-
cording to others for 10,000,000 dinars. From
the accession of Al Mohdi to the 164th year
of the Hegira, the most remarkable event was
the rebellion of Al Mokanna. This impious
impostor, whose true name was Hakem Ebn
Hesham, came originally from Khorasan, and
had been an under secretary to Abu Moslem go-
vernor of that province. He afterwards turned
soldier, and passed from the province of Khora-
san into that of Mawaralnahr, where he pave
himself out for a prophet. The name of Al
Mokanna, as also that of Al Borkai, that is, the
veiled, he took from his custom of covering his
fuce with a veil or girdle mask, to conceal his
deformity; he having lost an eye in the wars,
and being otherwise of a despicable appearance.
In some places he made many proselytes, de-
luding the people with a number of juggling
tricks which they swallowed as miracles, and
particularly by causing the appearance of a moon
to rise out of a well for many nights together;
whence he was also called in the Persian tongue
Sazendeb mak, or the moon-maker. This wretch,
not content with being reckoned a prophet, arro-
gated to himself divine honors; pretending that
the Deity resided in his person. At last this
impostor raised an open rebellion against the
caliph, and made himself master of several for-
tified places in Khorasan, so that Al Mohdi was
obliged to send one of his generals with an army
against him. Upon the approach of the caliph's
troops, Al Mokanna retired into one of his strong
fortresses, which he had well provided for a
siege; and sent his emissaries abroad to per-
suade the people that he raised the dead
to life, and foretold future events. But being
closely besieged by the caliph's forces, and
seeing no possibility of escaping, he gave poison
in wine to his whole family, and burnt theii
bodies, with all their furniture, provisions,
and cattle; and, lastly, he threw himself into the
flames, or, as others say, into a tub of aquafor-
tis, or some other preparation, which consumed
every part of him except the hair. When the
besiegers therefore entered the place, they found
no living creature in it, except one of Al Mo-
kanna's concubines, who, suspecting his design,
had hid herself, and now discovered the whole.
This terrible contrivance, however, produced the
desired effect. He had promised his followers
that his soul should transmigrate into the form of
an old mnn riding on a grayish coloied beast, and
that afitr so manv ypars he would return and
X
JOG
SARACENS.
give them the earth for their possession ; which
ridiculous expectation kept the sect in being
for several years. All this time war had been
carried on with the Greeks, but without any re-
remakable success on either side. In the 164th
year of the Hegira, however, Al Mohdi ordered
his son Harun Alraschid to penetrate into the
Greek territories with an army of 95,000 men.
Harun, then, having entered the dominions of
the empress Irene, defeated one of her com-
manders that advanced against him ; after which
he laid waste several of the imperial provinces
with fire and sword, and even threatened Con-
stantinople itself. By this the empress was so
terrified that she purchased a peace with the ca-
liph by paying him an annual tribute of 70,000
pieces of gold ; which delivered her from the de-
predations of these barbarians. After the signing
of the treaty, Harun returned home laden with
spoils and glory. In the 169th year of the He-
gira, Al Mohdi was poisoned, though unde-
signedly, by one of his concubines, named Ha-
sanah. She had designed to destroy one of her
rivals whom she imagined to have too great an
ascendant over the caliph, by giving her a poi-
soned pear. This the latter, not suspecting any
thing, gave to the caliph ; who had no sooner
eaten it than he felt himself in an exquisite tor-
ture, and soon after expired.
On the death of Al Mohdi, he was succeeded
by his eldest son Al Hadi ; who having formed a
design to deprive his younger brother Harun
Alraschid of his right of succession,-and even to
assassinate him, was poisoned by his vizier in the
170th year of the Hegira; and on his death the
celebrated caliph Haruu Alraschid ascended the
throne. This was the best and wisest prince that
ever sat on the throne of Bagdad. He was also
extremely fortunate in all his undertakings, though
he did not much extend his dominions by con-
quest. In his time the Saracen empire may be
said to have been in its most flourishing state,
though, by the independency of the Saracens in
Spain, who had formerly set up a caliph of the
house of Ommiyahjhis territories were not quite
so extensive as those of some of his predeces-
sors. See BAGDAD. The first instance of Ha-
run's good fortune, and which was taken for a
presage of a prosperous and happy reign, was
his finding a valuable ring which he had thrown
into the Tigris to avoid being deprived of it by
his brother Al Hadi. He was able to give the
divers no other direction than by throwing a
stone from the bridge of Bagdad, about the same
place of the river in which he hatl thrown the
ring ; notwithstanding which they found it with-
out any great difficulty. In the 1 86th year of
the Hegira, or A. D. 802, the caliph divided the
government of his extensive dominions among his
three sons : to Al Amin the eldest he assigned
Syria, Irak, the three Arabias, Mesopotamia,
Assyria, Media, Palestine, Egypt, and all that
part of Africa extending from the confines of
Egypt and Ethiopia to the straits of Gibraltar,
with the dignity of caliph; to Al Mamun, the
second, he assigned Persia, Kerman, the Indies,
Khorasan, Tabrestan, Cablestan and Zablestan,
with the vast province of Mawaralnahr ; and to
his third son, Al Kasem, he gave Armenia, Na-
tolia, Jorjan, Georgia, Circassia, and all the Sa»
racen territories bordering upon the Euxine Sea.
Al Amin was to ascend the throne immediately
after his father's decase; after him Al Mamun-,
and then Al Kasem, whom he had surnamed Al
Mutaman. The most considerable exploits per-
formed by this caliph were against the Greeks,
who by their perfidy provoked him to make war
upon them, and whom he always overcame. In
the 187th year of the Hegira the caliph received
a letter from the Greek emperor Nicepliorus,
soon after he had been advanced to the imperial
dignity, commanding him to return all the money
he had extorted from the empress Irene, though
that had been secured to him by the last treaty
concluded with that princess, or expect soon to
see an imperial army in the heart of his territories.
This insolent letter so exasperated Harun that
he immediately assembled his forces, and ad-
vanced to Heraclea, laying the country through
which he passed waste with fire and sword. For
some time also he kept that city straitly besieged ;
which so terrified the Greek emperor that he
submitted to pay an annual tribute. Upon this
Harun granted him a peace, which he broke
soon after ; but Harun compelled him to renew
it, and then returned with his army. In the
188th year of the Hegira war was renewed with
the Greeks ; and Nicephorus with a great army
attacked the caliph's forces with the utmost fury.
He was, however, defeated with the loss of
40,000 men, and received three wounds in the
action ; after which the Saracens committed terri-
ble ravages in his territories, and returned home
laden with spoils. The next year Harun invaded
Phrygia, defeated an imperial army sent to op-
pose him, and ravaged the country. In the 190th
year of the Hegira, November (27th, 805, the
caliph marched into the imperial territories with
an army of 135,000 men, besides a great num-
ber of volunteers. He first took the city of
Heraclea, whence he carried 16,000 prisoners ;
after which he took several other places, and
made a descent on Cyprus, which he plundered
in a terrible manner. This so intimidated 'Ni-
cephorus that he immediately sent the tribute
due to Harun, the withholding of which had
been the cause of the war, and concluded a peace
upon the caliph's own terms ; one of which was
that the city of Heraclea should never be rebuilt.
This perhaps Harun would not so readily have
granted, had not one Rafe Ebn Al Leith revolted
against him at Samarcand, and assembled a con-
siderable force. In the 191st year of the Hegira,
the caliph removed the governor of Khorasan
from his employment, because he had not at-
tended to the motions of the rebel Rafe. As
this governor had also tyrannised over his sub-
jeets in the most cruel manner, his successor
sent him in chains to the caliph : yet the rebels
made this year a great progress in the conquest
of Khorasan. Next year the caliph marched in
person against the rebels, who were daily be-
coming more formidable. The general rendezvous
of his troops was in the plains of Rakka, whence
he advanced with them to Bagdad. Having the re
supplied the troops with every thing necessary,
he continued his march to the frontiers of Jorjan,
where he was seized with an illness which grew
SARACENS.
307
more violent after he had entered that province.
Finding himself, therefore, unable to pursue iiis
journey, he resigned the command of the army
to his son Al Mamun, retiring himself to Tus in
Khorasan. We are told by Khondemir that, be-
fore the caliph departed from Rakka, he had a
dream wherein he saw a hand over his head full
of red earth, and at the same time heard a person
pronouncing these words, ' see the earth where
Harun is to be buried.' Upon this he asked
where he was to be buried ; and was instantly
answered, ' at Tus.' This dream greatly discom-
posing him, he communicated it to his chief phy-
sician, who endeavoured to divert him, and ad-
vised him to pursue some amusement, to draw
his attention another way. The caliph accord-
ingly prepared a magnificent regale for his cour-
tiers, which lasted several days. After this he
put himself at the head of his forces, and ad-
vanced to the confines of Jordan. As his disor-
der increased, he retired to Tus, where he sent
for his physician, and said to him, 'Gabriel, do
you remember my dream at Rakka ? We are now
arrived at Tus, the place of my interment. Send
one of my eunuchs to fetch me a handful of the
earth of this city.' Upon this, Masrur, a favorite
eunuch, was despatched to bring a little earth.
He soon brought a handful of red earth,
which he presented to the caliph with his arm
half bare. At the sight of this, Harun cried
out, ' in truth this is the earth, and this is the very
arm, that I saw in my dream.' His spirits im-
mediately failing, and his malady being greatly
increased by the perturbation of mind ensuing
upon this sight, he d ied three days after, and was
buried in Tus. Bashir Ebn Al Leith, the arch-
rebel's brother, was brought in chains to the
caliph, when at the point of death. At the sight
of him Harun declared that if he could speak
only two words he would say kill him ; and
immediately ordered him to be cut in pieces in
his presence. This being done, the caliph soon
after expired, in the year of the Hegira 193,
having reigned twenty-three years. The distem-
per that put an end to his days is said to have
oeen the bloody flux.
Upon the arrival of a courier from Tus, with
the news of Al Raschid's death, his son Al Amin
was immediately proclaimed caliph; and was no
sooner seated on the throne than he formed a
design of excluding his brother Al Mamun from
the succession. Accordingly he deprived him
of the furniture of the imperial palace at Kho-
rasan ; and in open violation of his father's will,
who had bestowed on Al Mamun the perpetual
government of Khorasan, and of all the troops
in that province, he ordered these forces to march
directly to Bagdad. Upon the arrival of this
order, Al Mamun expostulated with the general
Al Fadl Ebn Rabi, who commanded his troops,
and endeavoured to prevent his marching to
Bagdad ; but without effect, for he punctually
obeyed the orders sent by the caliph. Al Ma-
mun, however, took care not to be wanting in
fidelity to his brother. He obliged the people
of Khorasan to take an oath of fidelity to Al
Amin, and reduced some who had actually excited
a considerable body of the people to revolt, while
the general Al Fadl having ingratiated himself
with the caliph by his ready compliance with his
orders, was chosen prime vizier, and governed with
an absolute sway : Al Amin abandoning himself
entirely to drunkenness. Al Fadl was a very able
minister ; though, fearing Al Mamun's resent-
ment if ever he should ascend the throne, he
gave Al Amin such advice as proved in the end
the ruin of them both. He told him that his
brother had gained the affection of the people of
Khorasan by the good order and police he had
established among them; that his unwearied ap-
plication to the administration of justice had so
attracted their esteem that the whole province
was entirely at his devotion; that his own con-
duct was by no means relished by his subjects,
whose minds were almost totally alienated from
him ; and therefore that he had but one part to
act, which was to deprive Al Mamun of the right
of succession that had been given him by his
father, and transfer it to his own son Musa, thou«h
then but an infant. Agreeably to this pernicious
advice, the caliph sent for his brother Al Kaseni
from Mesopotamia, and recalled Al Mamun
from Khorasan, pretending he had occasion for
him as an assistant in his councils. By this
treatment Al Mamun was so much provoked
that he resolved to come to an open rupture
with his brother, in order if possible to frustrate
his wicked designs. Instead, therefore, of going
to Bagdad as he had been commanded, he cut
off all communication betsveen his own province
and that capital ; saying that, as his father Harun
had assigned him the lieutenancy of Khorasan,
he was responsible for all the disorders that
might happen there during his absence. He also
coined money, and would not suffer Al Amin's
name to be impressed upon any of the dirhems
or dinars struck in that province. Not content
with this, he prevailed upon Rafe Ebn Al Leith,
who had been for some time in rebellion, to join
him with a body of troops ; whose example was
soon after followed hy Harthema Ebn Aafan ;
which put him in possession of all the vast terri-
tory of Khorasan. Here he governed with an
absolute sway, officiated in the mosque as Imam,
and constantly harangued the people. In the
195th year of the Hegira, October 4th, 817, the
caliph Al Amin, finding that his brother set him
at defiance, declared war against him, and sent
his general AH Ebn Isa with an army of 60,000
men to invade Khorasan. Al Mamun, being in-
formed that Ali was advancing against him with
such a powerful army, put on foot all the troops
he could raise, and gave the command to Thaher
Ebn Hosein, one of the greatest generals of his
age. Thaher, being a man of undaunted reso-
lution, chose only 4000 men, whom he led
against Al Amin's army. Ali, seeing so small a
number of troops advancing against him, was
transported with joy, and promised himself an
easy victory. Despising his enemies, therefore,
lie behaved in a secure and careless manner ;
the consequence of which was that his army
was entirely defeated, and himself killed, his
head being afterwards sent as a present to Al
Mamun, who amply rewarded Thaher and Har-
thema for their services. After this victory, Al
Mamun assumed the title of caliph, and made all
necessary preparations for carrying the war into
X 2
"308
SARACENS.
the very heart of his brother's dominions. For
this purpose he divided his forces into two bo-
dies, and commanded them to march into Irak
by different routes. One of them obeyed the
orders of Thaher, and the other of Harthema.
The first directed his march to Ahwas, and the
other towards Holwan, both of them proposing
to meet in the neigbourhood of Bagdad, and
after their junction to besiege that city. In the
196th year of the Hegira, Thaher Ebn liosein
made a most rapid progres with the troo*ps under
his command. Having advanced towards Ahwas,
he there defeated a body of the caliph's forces ,•
and, though the victory was by no means deci-
sive, it so intimidated the commander of Ahwas,
that he surrendered that fortress to him. This
opened a way to Wafer on the Tigris, and facili-
tated the conquest of that place. After this he
marched with his army to Al Madayen, the in-
habitants of which immediately opened their
gates to him. The rapidity of these conquests,
and the infamous conduct of Al Amin, excited
the people of Egypt, Syria, Hejaz, and Yemen,
unanimously to declare for Al Mamun ; who was
accordingly proclaimed caliph in all these pro-
vinces. The next year Al Mamun's forces,
under Thaher and Harthema, laid siege to Bag-
dad. As the caliph was shut up in that place,
and it had a numerous garrison, the besieged
made a vigorous defence, and destroyed a great
number of their enemies. The besiegers, how-
ever, incessantly played upon the town with their
catapults and other engines, though they were in
their turn not a little annoyed by the garrison
with the same sort of military machines. The
latter likewise made continual sallies, and fought
like men in despair, though they were always
beaten back into the town with considerable loss.
In short, the siege continued during the whole
of this year, in which the greatest part of the
eastern city, called the Camp of Al Mohdi, was
demolished or reduced to ashes. The citizens, as
well as the garrison, were reduced to the last
extremity by the length and violence of the siege.
In the beginning of the 198th year of the He-
gira, Al Amin, finding himself deserted by his
troops, as well as by the principal men of Bag-
dad, who had kept a private correspondence with
Thaher, was obliged to retire to the old town on
the west bank of the Tigris. He did not, how-
ever, take this step, before the inhabitants of the
new town had formally deposed him, and pro-
claimed his brother Al Mamun caliph. Thaher,
receiving advice of this, caused the old town to
be invested, planted his engines against it, and
at last starved it to a surrender. Al Amin, being
thus reduced to the necessity of putting himself
into the hands of one of the generals, chose to
implore the protection of Harthema, whom he
judged to be of a more humane disposition than
Thaher. Having obtained this, he embarked in
a small vessel in order to arrive at that part of
the camp where Harthema was posted; but
Thaher being informed of his design, which, if
put in execution, he thought would eclipse the
glory he had acquired, laid an ambush for him,
which he had not the good fortune to escape.
Upon his arrival in the neighbourhood of Har-
thema's tent, Thaher's soldiers rushed upon him,
drowned all his attendants, and put Al Amin him-
self in prison. Here he was soon after massacred
by Thaher's servants, who carried his head in
triumph to their master, by whose order it was
afterwards exposed to view in the streets of
Bagdad. Thaher afterwards sent it to Al Mamun
in khorasan, together with the ring or seal of the
caliphate, the sceptre, and the imperial robe. At
the sight of these Al Mamun fell down on his
knees, and returned thanks to God for his suc-
cess ; making the courier who brought them a
present of a million of dirhems, in value about
£100,000 sterling. The same day that Al Amin
was assassinated, his brother Al Mamun was
proclaimed caliph at Bagdad. He had not been
lonsr seated on the throne, when he was alarmed
by rebellions breaking out in different parts of
the empire. The>e, however, were at last happily
extinguished ; after which Thaher Ebn Hosein
had the government of Khorasan conferred upon
him and his descendants with almost absolute
and unlimited power. This happened in the
205th year of the Hegira, from which time we
may date the dismemberment of that province
from the empire of the caliphs. During the
reign of this caliph nothing remarkable hap-
pened ; only the African Saracens invaded the
island of Sicily, where they made themselves
masters of several places. He died of a surfeit,
in the 218th year of the Hegira, having reigned
twenty, and lived forty-eight or forty-nine years.
On the death of Al Mamun his brother Al
Motasem, by some of the oriental historians sur-
uamed Billah, was saluted caliph. He succeed-
ed by virtue of Al Mamun s express nomination
of him, to the exclusion of his own son Al Ab-
bas, and his other brother Al Casern, who had
been appointed by Harun Al Raschid. In the
beginning of his reign he was obliged to employ
the whole forces of his empire against one Babec,
who had been for a considerable time in rebellion
in Persia and Persian Irak. This Babec first ap-
peared in the year of the Hegira 201, when he be-
gan to take upon him the title of a prophet. What
his particular doctrine was is now unknown ; but
his religion is said to have differed from all
others then known in Asia. He gained a gieat
number of proselytes in Aderbijanand the Persian
Irak, where he soon grew powerful enough to wage
war with the caliph Al Mamun, whose troops he
often beat, so that he was now become extremely
formidable. The general sent by Al Motasem
to reduce him was Heider Ebn Kans, surnamed
Afshan, a Turk by nation, who had been brought
a slave to the caliph's court, and, having been
employed in disciplining the Turkish militia
there, had acquired the reputation of a great cap-
tain. By him Babec was defeated with prodi-
gious slaughter, no fewer than 60,000 men being
killed in the first engagement. The next year,
being the 220th of the Hegira, he received a still
greater overthrow, losing 100,000 men, killed
and taken prisoners. By this defeat he was
obliged to retire into the Gordyaan mountains ;
where he fortified himself in such a manner that
Afshin found it impossible to reduce him till the
year of the Hegira 222. This commander,
having reduced with invincible patience all Ba-
bec's castles, one after another, the impostor
SARACENS.
309
was obliged to shut himself up in a strong for-
tress called Cashabad, which was now his last
resource. Here he defended himself with great
bravery for several months; but at last, finding
he should be obliged to surrender, he made his
escape into a neighbouring wood, whence he
soon after came to Afshin upon that general pro-
mising him pardon. But Afshin no sooner had
him in his power than he first caused his hands
and feet, and afterwards his head, to be cut off.
Babec had supported himself against the power of
the caliphs for upwards of twenty years, during
which time he had cruelly massacred 250,000
people ; it being his custom to spare neither
man, woman, nor child, of the Mahometans or
their allies. Amongst the prisoners taken at
Cashabad there was one Nud, who had been one
of Babec's executioners, and who owned that,
by his orders, he had destroyed 20,000 Saracens
with his own hands ; to which he added that
vast numbers had also been executed by his com-
panions. In the 223d year of the Hegira the
Greek emperor Theophilus invaded the caliph's
territories, where he behaved with the greatest
cruelty, and by destroying Sozopetra, the place
of Al Motasem's nativity, notwithstanding his
earnest entreaties to the contrary, occasioned the
terrible destruction of AMORIUM, mentioned
under that article. The rest of this caliph's reign
is remarkable for nothing but <he execution of
Afshin, who was accused of holding correspond-
ence with the caliph's enemies. After his death
a great number of idols were found in his house,
which were immediately burned, as also several
books said to contain impious and detestable
opinions. In the 227th year of the Hegira died
the caliph Al Motasem, in the forty-eighth or
forty-ninth year of his age. He had reigned
eight years eight months and eight days, was
born in the eighth month of the year, fought eight
battles, had 8000 slaves, and had 8,000,000
dinars and 80,000 dirhems in his treasury at his
death ; whence the oriental historians gave him
the name Al Mothamen, or the Octonary. He
is said to have been so robust that he once
carried a burden of 1000 Ibs. weight several
paces. As the people of Bagdad disturbed him
with frequent revolts and commotions, he took
the resolution to abandon that city, and build
another for his own residence. The new city he
built was first called Samaria, and afterwards
Sarra Manray, and stood in the Arabian Irak.
He was attached to the opinion of the Moataza-
lites, who maintain the creation of the Koran ;
and both he and his predecessor cruelly perse-
cuted those who believed it to be eternal.
A! Motazem was succeeded by Al Wathek
Ballah, who the following year, being the 228th
of the Ilegira, invaded and conquered Sicily.
Nothing remarkable happened during the rest of
his reign ; he died in the 232d year of the He-
gira, and was succeeded by his brother Al Mota-
wakkel. The new caliph began his reign with
an act of the greatest cruelty. The late caliph's
vizier, having treated Al Motawakkel ill in liis
brother's lifetime, and opposed his election to
the caliphate, was on that account now sent to
prison. Here the caliph ordered him to be kept
awake for several days and nights together : after
this, being suffered to fall asleep, he slept u
whole day and night ; and after he awoke was
thrown into an iron furnace lined with spikes or
nails heated red hot, where he was miserably
burnt to death. During this reign nothing re-
markable happened, except wars with the Greeks,
which were carried on with various success. In
the year 867, too, being the 245th of the Hegira,
violent earthquakes happened in many provinces
of the Saracen dominions; and the springs 'at
Mecca failed to such a degree that the celebrated
well Zemzem was almost dried up, and the
water sold for 100 dirhems a bottle. In the
247th year of the Hegira the caliph was assas-
sinated at the instance of his son Al Montaser;
who succeeded him, and died in six months
after. He was succeeded by Al Mostain, who,
in the year of the Hegira 252 was forced to ab-
dicate the throne by his brother Al Motazz, who
afterwards caused him to be privately murdered.
He did not long enjoy the dignity of which he
had so iniquitously possessed himself; being
deposed by the Turkish militia (who now began
to set up and depose caliphs as they pleased) in
the 255th year of the Hegira. After his depo-
sition he was sent under an escort from Sarra
Manray to Bagdad, where he died of thirst or
hunger, after a reign of four years and about
seven months. The fate of this caliph (however
merited) was peculiarly hard : the Turkish troops
had mutinied for their pay; and Al Motazz, not
hafirig money to satisfy their demands, applied
to his mother, named kabiha, for 50,000 dinars.
This she refused, telling him that she had no
money at all, although it afterwards appeared that
she was possessed of immense treasures. After
his deposition, however, she was obliged to dis-
cover them, and even deposit them in the hands
of the new caliph Al Mokhtadi. They consisted
of 1,000,000 dinars, a bushel of emeralds, and
another of pearls, and three pounds and three
quarters of rubies of the color of fire.
Al Mokhtadi, the new caliph, was the son of
one of Al Wathek's concubines, named Korb, or
Kark, said by some to have been a Christian.
The beginning of his reign is remarkable for the
irruption of the Zenjians, a people of Nubia,
Ethiopia, and the country of Caffres, into Arabia,
where they penetrated into the neighbourhood of
Basra and Cufa. The chief of this gang of
robbers, who, according to some of the Arab his-
torians, differed but little from wild beasts, was
Ali Ebn Mohammed Ebn Abdalrahman, who
falsely gave himself out to be of the family of
Ali Ebn Abu Taleb. This made such an im-
pression upon the Shites in those parts that they
flocked to him in great numbers ; which enabled
him to seize upon the cities of Basra and Ramla,
and even to pass the Tigris at the head of a
formidable army. He then took the title ot
prince of the Zenjians in order to ingratiate him-
self with those barbarians, of whom his army
was principally composed. In the 256th year
of the Hegira Al Mokhtada was barbarously
murdered by the Turks, who had raised him t'>
the throne ; and was succeeded by Al Motamed
the son of Al Motawakkel. This year the prince
of the Zenjians, Ali, or Al Habib, made incur-
sions to the very gates of Bagdad, doing prodi-
310
gious mischief wherever he passed. The caliph
therefore sent against him one Jolan with a con-
siderable army ; he was overthrown, however,
with very great slaughter by the Zenjian, who
made himself master of twenty-four of the ca-
liph's largest ships in the bay of Basra, put a
vast number of the inhabitants of Obolla to the
sword, seized upon the town, set fire to it, and
soon reduced it to ashes, the houses mostly con-
sisting of the wood of a certain plane-tree called
by the Arabians s:ij. Thence he marched to
Abadan, which likewise surrendered to him.
Here he found an immense treasure, which ena-
bled him to possess himself of the whole district
of Ahwaz. In short, his forces being now in-
creased to 80,000 strong, most of the adjacent
territories, and even the caliph's court itself, were
struck with horror. In the 257th year of the
llegira Al Habib continued victorious, defeated
several armies sent against him by the caliph, re-
duced the city of Basra, and put 20,000 of the
inhabitants to the sword. The following year the
caliph, supported by his brother Al Mowaffek,
had formed a design of circumscribing the power
of the Turkish soldiery, who had for some time
given law to the caliphs themselves. But this
year the Zenjians made so rapid a progress in
Persia, Arabia, and Irak, that he was obliged to
suspend the execution of his design, and even to
employ the Turkish troops to assist his brother
Al Mowaffek in opposing these robbers. The
first of the caliph's generals, who encountered
Al Habib this year, was defeated in several en-
\xagements, and had his army at last entirely de-
stroyed. After this Al Mowaffek and another
general named Mosleh advanced against him.
In the first engagement, Mosleh being killed by
an arrow, the caliph's troops retired ; but Al
Mowaffek put them afterwards in such a posture
of defence that the enemy durst not renew the
attack. Several other sharp encounters happened
this year, in which neither party gained great ad-
vantage; but at last, some contagious distem-
pers breaking out in Al Mowaffek's army, he
was obliged to conclude a truce, and retire to
Waset to refresh his troops. In the 259th year
of the Hegira, commencing November 7th, 881,
the war between the caliph and Al Habib still
continued. Al Mowaffek, upon his arrival at
Bagdad, sent Mahommed, surnamed Al Mo-
walled, with a powerful army to act against the
Zenjians: but he could not hinder them from
ravaging the province of Ahwaz, cutting off about
50,000 of the caliph's subjects, and dismantling
the city of Ahwaz ; and, notwithstanding the ut-
most efforts of all the caliph's generals, no consi-
derable advantages could be gained either this
or the following year. In the 261st year of the
Hegira, beginning October 16th, 883, Moham-
med Ebn Wasel, who had killed the caliph's
governor of Pars, and afterwards made himself
master of that province, had several engagements
with Al Habib. The caliph, having been ap-
prised of the state of affairs on that side, annexed
the government of l-'ar>, Ahwaz, and Basra to the
prefecture he had given to Musa Ebn Boga,
whom he looked upon as one of the best gene-
rals he had. Musa, soon after his nomination to
that post, sent Abdalrahman Ebn Mosleh as his
SARACENS.
deputy to Ahwaz, giving him as a colleague and
assistant one Tisam, a Turk. Mohammed Ebn
Wasel, however, refusing to obey the orders of
Abdalrahman and Tisam, a fierce conflict ensued,
in which the latter were defeated, and Adbalrah-
man taken prisoner. After this victory Mahom-
med advanced against Musa Ebn Boga himself;
but that general, finding he could not take pos-
session of his new government without a vast
effusion of blood, recalled the deputies from their
provinces, and made the best of his way to Serra
Manray. After this Yakub Ebn Al Leit, having
taken Khorasan from the descendants ofThaher,
attacked and defeated Mohammed Ebn Wasel,
seizing on his palace, where he found a sum of
money amounting to 40,000,000 dirhems. The
next year Yakub being grown formidable by the
acquisition of Ahwaz and a considerable portion
of Ears, or at least the Persian Irak, declared
war against the caliph. Against him Al Mota-
med despatched Al Mowaffek ; who, having de-
feated him with prodigious slaughter, plundered
his camp, and pursued him into Khorasan; where,
meeting with no opposition, he entered Nisabur,
and released Mahomet the Thaherian, whom
Yakub had detained in prison three years. As
for Yakub himself, he made his escape with
great difficulty ; though he and his family conti-
nued several years in possession of many of the
conquests he had made. This war with Yakub
proved a seasonable diversion in favor of Al Ha-
bib, who this year defeated all the forces sent
against him, and ravaged the district of Waset.
In the 263d of the Hegira, beginning September
24th, 885, the caliph's forces, under the command
of Ahmed Ebn Lebuna, gained two considerable
advantages over Al Habib; but, being at last
drawn into an ambuscade, they were almost to-
tally destroyed, their general himself making his
escape with the utmost difficulty ; nor were the
caliph's forces able, during the course of the next
year, to make the least impression upon these
rebels. In the 265th year of the Hegira, begin-
ning September 3d, 887, Ahmed Ebn Tolon re-
belled against the caliph, and set up for himself
in Egypt. Having assembled a considerable
force, he marched to Antioch,and besieged Sima
the governor of Aleppo, and all the' provinces
known among the Arabs by the name of Al Awa-
sem in that city. As the besieged found that he
was resolved to carry the place by assault, they
thought fit, after a short defence, to submit, and
to put Sima into his hands. Ahmed no sooner
had that officer in his power than he caused him
to be beheaded ; after which he advanced to
Aleppo, the gates of which were immediately
opened unto him. Soon after he reduced Da-
mascus, Hems, Hamath, Kinnisrin, and Al Rak-
ka, situated upon the eastern bank of the Eu-
phrates. This rebellion so exasperated Al
Motamed that he caused Ahmed to be publicly
cursed iu all the mosques belonging to Bagdad
and Irak ; and Ahmed on his part ordered the
same malediction to be thundered out aeainst
the caliph in all the mosques within his jurisdic-
tion. This year also a detachment of Al Habib's
troops penetrated into Irak, and made themselves
rs of four of the caliph's ships laden with
corn ; they then advanced !o Al Nomanic, laid
SARACENS.
311
the greatest part of it in ashes, and carried off
with them several of the inhabitants prisoners.
After this they possessed themselves of Jarjaraya,
where they found many more prisoners, and de-
stroyed all the adjacent territory with fire and
sword. This year there were four independent
powers in the Saracen dominions, besides the
house of Ommiyah in Spain : viz. the African
Saracens, or Aglabites, who had for a long time
acted independently ; Ahmed in Syria and
Egypt ; Al Leit in Khorasan ; and Al Habib in
Arabia and Irak. In the 266th year of the He-
trira, beginning August 23d, 888, Al Habib re-
duced Ramhormoz, burnt the stately mosque
there to the ground, put a vast number of the
inhabitants to the sword, and carried away great
numbers, as well as a vast quantity of spoil.
This was his last successful campaign ; for the
year following Al Mowaffek. attended by his son
Abul Abbas, having attacked him with a body of
10,000 horse and a few infantry, notwithstanding
the vast disparity of numbers (Al Habib's army
amounting 'to 100,000 men), defeated him in se-
veral battles, recovered most of the towns he had
taken, together with an immense quantity of
spoil, and released 5000 women who had been
thrown into prison by these barbarians. After
these victories Al Mowaffek took post before the
city of Al Mabiya, built by Al Habib, and the
palace of his residence ; burnt all the ships in
the harbour ; thoroughly pillaged the town ; and
then entirely dismantled it. After the reduction
of this place, in which he found immense trea-
sures, Al Mowaffek pursued the flying Zenjians,
put several of their chiefs to the sword, and ad-
vanced to Al Mokhtara, a city built by Al
Habib. As the place was strongly fortified, and
Al Habib was posted in its neighbourhood with
an army, according to Abn Jaafer Al Tabari, of
300,000 men, Al Mowaffek' perceived that the
reduction of it would be a matter of some diffi-
culty. He therefore built a fortress opposite to
it, where he erected a mosque, and coined mo-
ney. The new city, from its founder, was called
by the Arabs Al Mowaffekkia, and soon rendered
considerable by the settlement of several wealthy
merchants there. The city of Al Mokhtara, be-
in^ reduced to great straits, was at last taken by
storm, and given up to be plundered by the ca-
liph's troops; after which Al Mowaffek defeated
the numerous forces of Al Habib in such a man-
ner that they could no more be rallied during
that campaign. In the year 268 of the Hegira
Al Mowaffek penetrated a^aiu into Al Mabiya,
and demolished the fortifications which had
been raised since its former reduction, though
the rebels disputed every inch of ground. Next
year he a^ain attacked Al Habib with great
bravery ; and would have entirely defeated him,
had he not been wounded in the breast with an
arrow, which obliged him to retreat. However,
as soon as he was cured of his wound, Al Mow-
affek advanced a third time to Al Mabiya, made
himself master of that metropolis, threw down
the walls that had been raised, put many of the
inhabitants to the sword, and carried a vast
number of them into captivity. The year 270
of the Hegira, commencing July llth, 892,
proved fatal to the rebel Al Habib. Al Mowaffek
made himself a fourth time master of Al Ma-
biya, burnt Al Habib's palace, seized upon his
family, and sent them to Sarra Manray. As for
the usurper himself he escaped ; but being
closely pursued by Al Mowaffek into the province
of Ahwaz, where the shattered remains of his
forces were entirely defeated, he at last fell into
the hands of the victor, who ordered his head to
be cut off, and carried through a great part of
that region which he had so long disturbed. By
this complete victory Al Mowaffek obtained the
title of Al Nasir Lidmalbah, that is, the protector
of Mahometanism. This year also died Ahmed
Ebn Tolun, who had seized upon Egypt and Sy-
ria, and was succeeded by his son Khamarawi-
yah. The next year a bloody engagement hap-
pened between the caliph's forces commanded by
Al Mowaffek's son and those of Khamarawiyah,
who had made an irruption into the caliph's ter-
ritories. The battle was fought between Al
Ramla and Damascus. In the beginning Kha-
marawiyah found himself so hard pressed that
his men were obliged to give way ; upon which,
taking for granted that all was lost, he fled with
great precipitation, even to the borders of Egypt ;
but in the mean time his troops, being ignorant
of the flight of their general, returned to the
charge and gained a complete victory. After this
Khamarawiyah, by his just and mild administra-
tion, so gained the affections of his subjects that
the caliph found it impossible to gain the least
advantage over him. In the year of the Hegira
276 he overthrew one of the caliph's generals,
named Abul Saj, at Al Bathnia, near the city of
Damascus; after which he advanced to Al
Rakka on the Euphrates, and made himself
master of that place. Having annexed several
large provinces to his former dominions, and left
some of his friends in whom he could confide to
govern them, he then returned into Egypt, the
principal part of his empire, which now extended
from the Euphrates to the borders of Nubia and
Ethiopia. The following year, the 278th of the
Hegira, was remarkable for the death of Al Mo-
waffek. He died of the elephantiasis or leprosy ;
and, while in his last illness, said that, of 100,000
men whom he commanded, there was not one so
miserable as himself. This year was also remark-
able for the first disturbances raised in the Saracen
empire by the Karmatians. The origin of this
sect is uncertain ; but the most common opinion
is that a poor fellow, by some called Karmata,
came from Khuzestan to the villages near Cufa,
and there pretended great sanctity, and that God
had enjoined him to pray fifty times a day, in-
viting people to the obedience of a certain imam
of the family of Mahomet ; and this way of life
he continued till he had made a very great party,
out of whom he chose twelve as his apostles to
govern the rest, and to propagate his doctrines.
He also assumed the title of prince, and obliged
every one of his earlier followers to pay him a
dinar a year. But Al Haidam, the governor of
that province, finding that men neglected their
work, to say those fifty prayers a day, seized the
fellow, and, havins: put him in prison, swore that
he should die. This being overheard by a girl,
belonging to the governor, she, out of compas-
sion, took the key of the dungeon at night from
SARAGOSSA.
tinder her master's head, released Karmata, and
restored the key to its place. The next morning
the governor found his prisoner gone ; and the
accident, being publicly known, raised great ad-
miration : Karmata's adherents giving out that
God had taken him into heaven. After this he
appeared in another province, and declared to a
great number of people that it was not in the
power of any person to do him hurt ; notwith-
standing which, his courage failing him, he re-
tired into Syria, and was never heard of more.
After his disappearance the sect continued and
increased : his disciples pretending that their
master had manifested himself to be a true
prophet, and had left them a new law, wherein
he had changed the ceremonies and form of
prayer used by the Mahometans, &o. From
this year (278) these sectaries gave almost con-
tinual disturbance to the caliphs and their sub-
jects, committing great disorders in Chaldea,
Arabia, and Mesopotamia, and at length estab-
lished a considerable principality. In the 279th
year of the Hegira died the caliph Al Motamed ;
and was succeeded by Al Motaded, son to Al
Mowaffek.
In the first year of his reign, Al Motaded
demanded in marriage the daughter of Khama-
rawiyah, sultan, or caliph, in Egypt ; which was
agreed to, and their nuptials were solemnised
with great pomp in the 282d year of the Hegira.
He carried on a war with the Karmatians ; but
very unsuccessfully, his forces being defeated
with great slaughter, and his general Al Abbas
taken prisoner. This caliph also granted to Ha-
run, son to Khamarawiyah, the perpetual prefec-
ture of Awasam and Kinnisrin, which he annexed
to that of Egypt and Syria, upon condition that he
paid him an annual tribute of 45,000 dinars. He
died in the year of the Hegira 289, and was suc-
ceeded by his son Al Moctasi, who proved a war-
like and successful prince. He gained several ad-
vantages over the Karmatians, but was not able to
reduce them. The Turks, however, having invaded
the province of Mawaralnahar, were defeated with
great slaughter ; after which Al Moctasi carried
on a successful war against the Greeks, from
whom he took Seleucia. After this he invaded
Syria and Egypt, which provinces he recovered
from the house of Ahmed Ebn Tolun. The re-
duction of Egypt happened in the 292d year of
the Hegira, after which the war was renewed
with success against the Greeks and Karmatians.
The caliph died in the 295th year of the Hegira,
after a reign of about six years and a half. He
was the last of the caliphs who made any figure
by their warlike exploits. His successors Al
Moktader, Al Kaher, and Al Radi, were so dis-
tressed by the Karmatians and numberless
usurpers who were every day starting up, that
by the 325th year of the Hegira they had nothing
left but the city of Bagdad. In the 324th year
of the Hegira, commencing November 30th,
946, the caliph Al Radi, finding himself dis-
tressed on all sides by usurpers, and having a
vizier of no capacity, instituted a new office su-
perior to that of vizier, which he entitled emir al
omra, or commandant of commandants. This
great officer was trusted with the management 01
military affairs, and had the entire management ot
the finances, in a much more absolute and unli-
mited manner than any of the caliph's viziers ever
had. Nay, he officiated for the caliph in the great
mosque at Bagdad, and had his name mentioned
in the public prayers throughout the kingdom.
In short, the caliph was so much under the
power of this officer, that he could not apply a
single dinar to his own use without the leave of
the emir al omri. In the year 325 the Saracen
empire, once so great and powerful, was shared
among the following usurpers : — 1 . The cities of
Waset, Basra, and Cufa, with the rest of the
Arabian Irak, were considered as the property
of the emir al omra, though they had been in the
beginning of the year seized upon by a rebel
called Al Barilli, who could not be driven out ot
them. 2. The country of Fars, Farsistan, or
Persia, properly so called, was possessed by
Amado'ddawia Ali Ebn Bulya, who resided in the
city of Shiraz. 3. Part of the tract denominated
Al Jebal, together with Persian Irak, which is
the mountainous part of Persia, and the country
of the ancient Parthians, obeyed Rucno'ddawla,
the brother of Amao' ddawla, who resided at
Ispahan. The other part of that country was
possessed by Washmakin the Deylamite. 4.
Diyar Rabia, Diyar Beer, Diyar Modar, and the
city of Al Mawsel, or Mosul, acknowledged for
their sovereign a race of princes called Hamda-
nites. 5. Egypt and Syria no longer obeyed the
caliphs, but Mahomet Ebn Taj ,who had formerly
been appointed governor of these provinces.
6, 7. Africa and Spain had long been independ-
ent. 8, 9. Sicily and Crete were governed by
princes of their own. 10, 11. The provinces of
Khorasan and Mawaralnahar were under the
dominion of Ai Nasr Ebn Ahmed, of the dynasty
of the Samarians. 12 — 14. The provinces of
Tabrestan, Jorjan or Georgiana, and Mazanderan,
had kings of the first dynasty of the Deylamites.
15. The province of Kerman was occupied by
Abu Ali Mahomet Ebn Eylia Al Sammani, whc
had made himself master of it a short time before.
16. Lastly, the provinces of Yamana and Bah-
rein, including the district of Hajr, were in the
possession of Abu Thaer the Karmatian. Farther
particulars respecting the history of the Saracens
will be found under the articles already referred
to, and particularly under SPAIN, where they
were more generally styled Moors than either
Saracens, Arabs, Moslems, or Mussulmans.
SARAGOSSA, or ZARAGOSA, a city in the
north of Spain, on the south bank of the Ebro,
Jhe capital of Arragon, and the see of an arch-
bishop. It is surrounded by an earthen wall,
:md tins twelve gates: the town being built on
i!ie site of the ancient Salpuba, which wa-t «-n-
i.ir^«-<! l>\ .cud thence c?.lle^ Casi
Augusta, corrupted subsequently into Sara^ossa.
The canal of Arragon approaches it both cast
and west. It is a large place, built throughout
of brick, but the houses are seldom above three
stories in height ; and the streets generally nar-
row and crooked. Hut there is one long and
street called the (.'07.0, and two
SARAGOSSA.
311
ofcr the Ebro, one of wood, said to be the finest
of the kind in Europe.
Saragossa has a Gothic cathedral, sixteen other
churches, and nearly forty convents. The church
of our ' Lady of the Pillar' is remarkable for its
supposed miraculous image ; and that of St. En-
gracia for various relics.
This city is the residence of the intendant,
captain-general, and high court of justice of Ar-
idgon ; and of a small garrison. It has a uni-
versity founded in 1478, and an academy of
fine arts. Here are also two public libraries.
The climate is temperate, and of far less intense
heat than the south of Spain.
This city is chiefly celebrated for its dreadful
sieges in 1808 and 1809. The French attempted
to take it by assault in 1 808, but were repulsed
with loss. Returning with augmented numbers,
they invested nearly half the town, in defence of
which the citizens were indefatigable, the batte-
ries being served by both sexes. However,
on the 4th of August, the French beat down
the wall on the right bank of the Guerva, and
enabled their troops to force their way into
the Cozo. Being thus in possession of nearly
half the town, the contest seemed only to
have begun : for the inhabitants defended house
after house, and made a number of nocturnal
attacks on the part occupied by the French :
eventually the latter, making no progress, on the
14th of August retired. The siege of the fol-
lowing year was no less obstinate. Having re-
ceived great reinforcements, and entirely de-
feated various Spanish armies, the French
marched in November (1808) once more upon
this point. Their plan was now to destroy the
city partly by bombs, or by mining, and their
first attack (December 20th) gave them posses-
sion of some important posts. The bombard-
ment commenced on the 10th of January, which,
violent as it was, caused less injury than a fever
now raging in the garrison : and Saragossa was
crowded with soldiers. It continued, however,
to make a brave resistance, and it was not till
after a bombardment of six weeks, and a very
unequal contest in mining, that Palafox, its
noble commander, surrendered. 175 miles
K. N. E. of Madrid. Population 50,000.
Dr. Southey's eloquent narrative of the siege
of 1808, in his History of the Peninsular War,
is amongst the most successful productions of
his ever-able pen. We are quite sure our readers
will only wish that, instead of the following ab-
stract, we could have given the entire chapter he
has devoted to this memorable conflict : —
' A regular siege was to be expected ; how
were the citizens to sustain it with their brick
walls, without heavy artillery, and without troops
who could sally to interrupt the besiegers in
their works ? In spite of all these discouraging
circumstances, confiding in God and their own
courage, they determined to defend the streets
to the last extremity. Palafox, immediately after
the repulse of the enemy, set out to muster rein-
forcements, to provide such resources for the
Mege as he could, and to place the rest of Arra-
iron in a state of defence, if the capital should
fall. The besiegers* army was soon reinforced
i<y general Yerdier with 2500 men, besides some
battalions of Portuguese, who, according to the
devilish system of Buonaparte's tyranny, had
been forced out of their country, to be pushed
on in the foremost ranks, wherever the first fire
of a battery was to be received, a line of bayo-
nets clogged, or a ditch filled, with bodies. They
occupied the best positions in the surrounding
plain, and, on the 27th, attacked the city and
the Torrero ; but they were repulsed with the
loss of 800 men. six pieces of artillery, and five
carts of ammunition. By this time they had in-
vested nearly half the town. The next morning
they renewed the attack at both places ; from
the city they were again repulsed, losing almost
all the cavalry who were engaged. But the Tor-
rero was lost through the alleged misconduct of
an artillery officer, vrho was charged with having
made his men abandon the batteries at the most
critical moment. For this he was condemned to
run the gauntlet six times, the soldiers beating
him with their ramrods, arid after this cruelty he
was shot.
' The French having now received a train of
mortarsy howitzers, and twelve-pounders, which
were of sufficient calibre against mud walls,
kept up a constant fire, and showered down
shells and grenades from the Torrero. About
1200 were thrown into the town, and there was
not one building that was bomb-proof within the
walls. After a time the inhabitants placed beams
of timber together endways against the houses,
in a sloping direction, behind which those who
were near when a shell fell might shelter them-
selves. The enemy continued also to invest the
city more closely, while the Arragonese made
every effort to strengthen their means of defence.
They tore down the awnings from their windows,
and" formed them into sacks which they filled
with sand, and piled up before the gates, in the
form of a battery, digging round it a deep
trench. They broke holes for musketry in the
walls and intermediate buildings, and stationed
cannon where the position was favorable for it.
The houses in the environs were destroyed.
' Gardens and olive grounds,' says an eye-wit-
ness, 'that in better times had been the recreation
and support of their owners, were cheerfully
rooted up by the proprietors themselves, where-
ver they impeded the defence of the city, or
covered the approach of the enemy.' ^ omen
of all ranks assisted; they formed themselves
into companies, some to relieve the wounded,
some to carry water, wine, and provisions, to
those who defended the gates. The countess
Burita instituted a corps for this service; she
was young, delicate, and beautiful. In the
midst of the most tremendous fire of shot and
shells, she was seen coolly attending to those oc-
cupations which were now become her duty;
nor throughout the whole of a two months'
siege did the imminent danger, to which she in-
cessantly exposed herself, produce the slightest
apparent effect upon her, or in the slightest de-
gree bend her from her heroic purpose. Some
of the monks bore arms ; others exercised their
spiritual offices to the dying ; others, with the
nuns, were busied in making cartridges whr;h
the children distributed.
' Among 60,000 persons there \\ill always
314
SARAGOSSA.
be found some wicked enough for any employ-
ment, and the art of corrupting has constituted
great part of the French system of war. Dur-
ing the night of the 28th the powder magazine,
in the area where the bull fights were performed,
which was in the very heart of the city, was
blown up, by which fourteen houses were de-
stroyed, and about 200 persons killed. This
was the signal for the enemy to appear before
three gates which had been sold to them. And,
while the inhabitants were digging out their fel-
low citizens from the ruins, a fire was opened
upon them with mortars, howitzers, and cannons,
which had now been received for battering the
town. Their attack seemed chiefly to be di-
rected against the gate called Portillo, and a
large square building near it, without the walls,
and surrounded by a deep ditch ; though called
a castle, it served only for a prison. The sand-
bag battery before this gate was frequently de-
stroyed, and as often reconstructed under the
fire of the enemy. The carnage here throughout
the day was dreadful.
' Augustina Zaragoza, a handsome woman of
the lower class, about twenty-two years of age,
arrived at this battery with refreshments, at the
time when not a man who defended it was left
alive, so tremendous was the fire which the
French kept up against it. For a moment the
citizens hesitated to re-man the guns. Augustina
sprung forward over the dead and dying, snatched
a match from the hand of a dead artilleryman,
and fired off a six-and-twenty pounder; then,
jumping upon the gun, made a solemn vow ne-
ver to quit it alive during the siege. Such a
sight could not but animate with fresh courage
all who.beheld it. The Saragossans rushed into
the battery, and renewed their fire with greater
vigor than ever, and the French were repulsed
here and at all other points with great slaughter.
' Lefebvre probably was so indignant at meet-
ing with any opposition from a people whom he
despised, and a place which, according to the
rules and pedantry of war, was not tenable, that
he lost his temper, and thought to subdue them
the shortest way, by mere violence and superior
force. Having found his mistake, he proceeded
to invest the city still more closely. In the be-
ginning of the siege, the besieged received some
scanty succors ; yet, however scanty, they were
of importance. 400 soldiers from the regiment
of Estremadura, small parties from other corps,
and a few artillerymen got in ; 200 of the militia
of Logrono were added to these artillerymen,
and soon learnt their new service, being in the
presence of an enemy whom they had such
righteous reason to abhor. Two four-and-twenty
pounders and a few shells, which were much
wanted, were procured from Lerida. The enemy,
mean time, were amply supplied with stores from
the magazine in the citadel of Pamplona, which
they had so perfidiously seized on their first en-
trance, as allies, into Spain. Hitherto the, had
remained on the right bank of the Ebro. On
the llth of July they forced the passage of the
ford, and posted troops enough on the opposite
side to protect their workmen while foiming a
floating bridge. In spite of all the efforts of the
Arragonese, this bridge was completed on the
14th ; n way was thus made for their cavalry,
to their superiority in which the French were
mostly indebted for all their victories in Spain.
This gave them the command of the surrounding
country ; they destroyed the mills, levied con-
tributions on the villages, and cut off every com-
munication by which the besieged had hitherto
received supplies. These new difficulties called
out new resources in this admirable people and
their general, — a man worthy of commanding
such a people in such times. Corn-mills, worked
by horses, were erected in various parts of the
city ; the monks were employed in manufactur-
ing gunpowder, materials for which were obtained
by immediately collecting all the sulphur in the
place, by washing the soil of the streets to extract
its nitre, and making charcoal from the stalks of
hemp, which in that part of Spain grows to a
magnitude that would elsewhere be thought very
unusual.
' By the end of July the city was completely
invested, the supply of food was scanty, and the
inhabitants had no reason to expect succor.
Their exertions had now been unremitted for
forty-six days, and nothing but the sense of duty
could have supported their bodily strength and
their spirit under such trials. They were in
hourly expectation of another general attack, or
another bombardment. They had not a single
place of security for the sick and the children,
and the number of wounded was daily in-
creased by repeated skirmishes, in which they
engaged for the purpose of opening a communi-
cation with the country. At this juncture they
made one desperate effort to recover theTorrero.
It was in vain ; and convinced by repeated losses,
and especially by this last repulse, that it was
hopeless to make any effectual sally, they re-
solved to abide the issue of the contest within the
walls, and conquer or perish there.
' On the night of the 2d of August, and on the
following day, the French bombarded the city
from their batteries opposite the gate of the Car-
men. A foundling hospital, which was now filled
with the sick and wounded, took fire, and was
rapidly consumed. During this scene of horror
the most intrepid exertions were made to rescue
these helpless sufferers from the flames. No
person thought of his own property or individual
concerns — every one hastened thither. The wo-
men were eminently conspicuous in their exer-
tions, regardless of the shot and shells which fell
about them, andbruving the flames of the build-
ing. It has often been remarked that the wick-
edness of women exceeds that of ^the other sex ;
forthe same reason, when circumstances, forcing
them out of the sphere of their ordinary nature,
compel them to exercise manly virtues, they
display them in the highest degree, and, when
they are once awaked to a sense of patriotism,
they carry the principle to its most heroic pitch.
The loss of women and boys during this siege
was very great, fully pioportionate to that of
men ; they were always the most forward, and
the difficulty was to teach them a prudent and
proper sense of their danger. On the following
day the French completed their batteries upon
the right bank of the (iuerva, \\ithin pistol-shot
of the gate of St. Kngracia, so called from a
SARAGOSSA.
315
splendid church and conrent of Jeronimites,
situated on one side of it.
' On the 4th of August the French opened
batteries within pistol-shot of this church and
convent. The mud walls were levelled at the
first discharge ; and the besiegers, rushing through
the opening, took the batteries before the adja-
cent gates in reverse. Here general Mori, who
had distinguished himself on many former occa-
sions, was made prisoner. The street of St.
Engracia, which they had thus entered, leads
into the Cozo, and the corner buildings where it
is thus terminated were on the one hand the
convent of St. Francisco, and on the other the
general hospital. Both were stormed and set on
fire ; the sick and the wounded threw themselves
from the windows to escape the flames, and the
horror of the scene was aggravated by the maniacs,
whose voices, raving or singing in paroxysms of
wilder madness, or crying in vain to be set free,
were heard amid the confusion of dreadful sounds.
Many fell victims to the fire, and some to the in-
discriminating fury of the assailants. Those who
escaped were conducted as prisoners to the Tor-
rero; but, when their condition had been dis-
covered, they were sent back on the morrow
to take their chance in the siege. After a severe
contest, and dreadful carnage, the French forced
their way into the Cozo in the very centre of the
city ; and, before the day closed, were in posses-
sion of one half of Saragossa. Lefebvre now
believed that he had effected his purpose, and
required Palafox to surrender in a note contain-
ing only these words: — ' Head-quarters. St.
Engracia. Capitulation !' The heroic Spaniard
immediately returned this reply : — ' Head-quar-
ters, Saragossa. War at the knife's point !'
'The contest which was now carried on is
unexampled in history. One side of the Cozo,
a street about as wide as Pall Mall, was possessed
by the French ; and, in the centre of it, their
general, Verdier, gave his orders from the Fran-
ciscan convent. The opposite side was main-
tained by the Arragonese, who threw up batteries
at the openings of the cross streets, within a few
paces of those which the French erected against
them. The intervening space was presently
heaped with dead, either slain upon the spot or
thrown out from the windows. Next day the
ammunition of the citizens began to fail ; the
French were expected every moment to renew
their efforts for completing the conquest, 'and
even this circumstance occasioned no dismay,
nor did any one think of capitulation. One cry
was heard from the people, wherever Palafox
rode among them, that, if powder failed, they
were ready to attack the enemy with their
knives — formidable weapons in the hands of
desperate men. Just before the day closed Don
Francisco Palafox, the general's brother, entered
the city with a convoy of arms and ammunition,
and a reinforcement of 3000 men, composed of
Spanish guards, Swiss, and volunteers of Arra-
gon : a succor as little expected by the Saragos-
sans as it had been provided against by the
enemy
' The war was now continued from street to
street, from house to house, and from room to
room ; pride and indignation having wrought
up the French to a pitcli of obstinate fury littlo
inferior to the devoted courage of the patriots.
Durinsr the whole siege no man distinguished
himself more remarkably than the curate of one
of the parishes, within the walls, by name P.
Santiago Sass. He was always to be seen in the
streets, sometimes fighting with the most deter-
mined bravery against the enemies, not of his
country alone, but of freedom, and of all virtu-
ous principles, wherever they were to be found;
at other times administering the sacrament to
the dying, and confirming, with the authority of
faith, that hope which gives to death, under such
circumstances, the joy, the exultation, the tri-
umph, and the spirit of martyrdom. Palafox
reposed the utmost confidence in this brave
priest, and selected him whenever any thing pe-
culiarly difficult or hazardous was to be done.
At the head of forty chosen men, he succeeded
in introducing a supply of powder into the
town, so essentially necessary for its defence.
' This most obstinate and murderous contest
was continued for eleven successive days and
nights, more indeed by night than by day ; for
it was almost certain death to appear by day-
light within reach of those houses which were
occupied by the other party. But, under cover
of the darkness, the combatants frequently dashed
across the street to attack each other's batteries ;
and the battles which began there were often
carried on into the houses beyond, where they
fought from room to room and floor to floor.
The hostile batteries were so near each other that
a Spaniard in one place made way under cover
of the dead bodies, which completely filled
the space between them, and fastened a rope to
one of the French cannons ; in the struggle
which ensued, the rope broke, and the Saragos-
sans lost their prize at the very moment when
they thought themselves sure of it.
' A new horror was added to the dreadful cir-
cumstances of war in this ever memorable siege.
In general engagements the dead are left upon
the field of battle, and the survivors remove to
clear ground and an untainted atmosphere; but
here — in Spain, and in the month of August,
there where the dead lay the struggle was still
carried on, and pestilence was dreaded from the
enormous accumulation of putrefying bodies.
Nothing in the whole course of the siege so much
embarrassed Palafox as this evil. The only re-
medy was to tie ropes to the French prisoners,
and push them forward amid the dead and dy-
ing, to remove the bodies, and bring them away
for interment. Even for this necessary office
there was no truce, and it would have been cer-
tain death to the Arragonese who should have
attempted to perform it ; but the prisoners were
in general secured by the pity of their own sol-
diers, and in this manner the evil was in some
degree diminished.
' A council of war was held by the Spaniards
on the 8th, not for the purpose which is toousual
in swch councils, but that their heroic resolution
might be communicated with authority to the
people. It was that, in those quarters of the
city where the Arragonese still maintained their
ground, they should continue to defend them-
selves with the same firmness : should the enemy
SAR
at last prevail, they were then to retire over the
Ebro into the suburbs, break down the bridge,
and defend the suburbs till they perished.
When this resolution was made public, it was
received with the loudest acclamations. But in
every conflict the citizens now gained ground
upon the soldiers, winning it inch by inch, till
the space occupied by the enemy, which on the
day of their entrance was nearly half the city,
was gradually reduced to about an eighth part.
Meantime, intelligence of the events in other
parts of Spain was received by the French — all
tending to dishearten them ; the surrender of
Dupont, the failure of Moncey before Valencia,
and the news that the junta of that province had
despatched 6000 men to join the levies in Arra-
gon, which were destined to relieve Saragossa.
During the night of the 13th their tire was
particularly fierce and destructive : after their
batteries had ceased, flames burst out in many
parts of the buildings which they had won ; their
last act was to blow up the church of St. En-
gracia; the powder was placed in the subterra-
nean church — and this remarkable place — this
monument of fraud and of credulity — the splen-
did theatre wherein so many feelings of deep
devotion had been excited — which so many thou-
sands had visited in faith, and from which un-
questionably many had departed with their ima-
ginations elevated, their principles ennobled,
and their hearts strengthened, was laid in ruins.
In the morning the French columns, to the great
surprise of the Spaniards, were seen at a distance,
retreating over the plain, on the road to Pam-
plona.
' The history of a battle, however skilfully
narrated, is necessarily uninteresting to all ex-
cept military men ; but, in the detail of a siege,
*.vhen time has destroyed those considerations
which prejudice or pervert our natural sense of
right and wrong, every reader sympathises with
the besieged, and nothing, even in fictitious nar-
ratives, excites so deep and animating an interest.
There is not, either in the annals of ancient or
of modern times, a single event recorded more
worthy to be held in admiration, now and for
evermore, than the siege of Saragossa. Will it
be said that this devoted people obtained for
themselves, by all this heroism and all these
sacrifices, nothing more than a short respite
from their fate? Woe be to the slavish heart
that conceives the thought, and shame to the
base tongue that gives it utterance ! They pur-
chased for themselves an everlasting remem-
brance upon earth — a place in the memory and
love of all good men in all ages that are yet to
come. They performed their duty ; they re-
deemed their souls from the yoke ; they left an
example to their country never to b« forgotten,
never to be out of mind, and sure to contribute
to and hasten its deliverance.' — Souther's Works,
3 vols. 4to., pp. 405—421, Vol. I.
SARAH [Heb. nitfr, i. e. lady], and SARAI
[Hfli. i. e. my mistress], names of the patriarch
Abraham's wife. She is supposed to be the same
with Iscah, the daughter of Haran, Abraham's
younger brother by a different mother, and con-
sequently the sister of Lot. Her beauty and
consequent danger in the courts of Egypt and
SAR
Gerar ; her entertainment of the angels ; her
barrenness till her ninetieth year, with her mi-
raculous conception and the birth of Isaac in
her ninety-first ; her turning oflf Hagar, with ner
death and burial in her 128th year, are recorded
in Genesis xii. xviii. xx. xxi. xxiii.
SARASIN (John Francis), a French author,
born at Hermauville, near Caen, in Normandy,
about 1604. He studied at Caen, and afterwards
went to Paris ; where he became eminent for his
wit and humor. He afterwards travelled through
Germany, and, upon his return, became secre-
tary to the prince of Conti, whom he prevailed
upon to marry the niece of cardinal Mazarine,
in reward for which he is said to have received
a large sum. But the prince, afterwards hearing
of his venality, dismissed him, which is said to
have brought on his death. He published, 1.
Discours de la Tragedie : 2. L'Histoire du Siege
de Dunkerque : and, 3. La Pompe funebre de
Voiture : inserted in the Miscellanea of Menage ;
to whose care he left all his MSS., from which
Menage published a 4to. vol. at Paris, in 1656,
and other 2 vols. in 1675; consisting of various
essays in prose and poetry, which are esteemed.
He died in 1654.
SARATOGA, a county and town of New
York. The county has a population of 33,000,
chief town Ballston. The town is twelve miles
north-east of that place, and gives name to several
mineral springs. The most noted, those of Saratoga
and Ballston, are the most celebrated mineral
waters in the United States. They are strongly
impregnated with carbonic acid, and contain
also carbonate of soda, muriate of soda, super-
carbonated lime, and a carbonate of iron. They
are much frequented, during the warm months,
by gay and fashionable people, as well as by in-
valids. The principal springs in Saratoga are
Congress Spring, and Rock Spring, which are
situated in the west part of the town, seven miles
N. N. E. of Ballston, twelve west of the Hudson,
thirty-two north of Albany. Here is a large,
handsome, and flourishing village, with a post
office, a Presbyterian church, and boarding-
houses which afford excellent accommodations
for visitors. Saratoga is memorable as the place
where general Burgoyne surrendered the Britisli
army to general Gates, October 17th, 1777.
SARATOV, an important province of Russia,
situated on the Wolga, partly in Europe, and
partly in Asia ; having on the one side the
country of the Don Cossacks, and on the other
that of Astracan. Containing an area of 91,000
square miles, its population is so thin as not to
exceed 1,000,000; and a great part of the tract
to the east of the Wolga is so-impregnated with
salt as to be in many parts unfit for the growth
of vegetables. Of the salt lakes in this quarter,
the most productive is that of Jelton. The
country to the west of the Wolga is fitted partly
for tillage, and partly for pasturage. The great
danger to vegetation here is from locusts, swarms
of which often appear in summer. Attempts
were made in the last century, by the Russian
government, to improve particular spots by
German settlers; and these colonists form
the chief merchants and manufacturers of th«
country ; but their success has been very limited.
SAR
317
SAR
SARATOV, a neat town of European Russia,
tne capital of the above government, stands on
the Wolga, surrounded by a wall and ditch ; the
houses are mostly of wood. It has an active
trade between Moscow and Astracan, and a
fine command of water carriage : the articles of
traffic not derived from these cities are fish, ca-
viar, and salt. Inhabitants 5000. 374 miles
north by west of Astracan, and 465 south-east of
Moscow.
SAR'CASM, n. s.^ Fr. sarcasme ; Lat. sar-
SARCAS'TIC, adj. tcasmus. A keen reproach ;
SARCAS'TICAL, £a taunt; a gibe : the ad-
SARCAS'TICALLY. Jjective and adverb corre-
sponding.
He asked a lady playing with a lap-dog, whether
the women of that country used to have any children
or no"! thereby sarcastically reproaching them for
misplacing that affection upon brutes which could
only become a mother to her child. South.
What a fierce and sarcastick reprehension would
this have drawn from the friendship of the world, and
yet what a gentle cme did it receive from Christ !
Id.
Sarcasms of wit are transmitted in story.
Government of the Tongue.
Rejoice, O young man, says Solomon, in a se-
vere sarcasm, in the days of thy youth, and walk
in the ways of thy heart ; but know that for these
things God will bring thee into judgment.
Rogers's Sermons.
Epithets may be found in great plenty at Billings-
gate ; sarcasm and irony learned upon the water ; and
the epiphonema or exclamation frequently from the
bear-garden, and as frequently from the ' hear him,'
of the house of commons. Pope.
When an angry master says to his servant, It is
bravely done, it is one way of giving a severe re-
proach ; for the words are spoken by way of sarcasm,
or irony. Watts.
SARCE'NET, n. s. Derived by Skinner
from Lat. sericum saracenicum. Fine thin woven
silk.
Why art thou thdn exasperate, thou idle imma-
terial skein of sley'd silk, thou green sarcenet flap for
a sore eye, thou tassel of a prodigal's purse 1
Shakspeare. Troilus and Cressida.
If they be covered, though but with linen or
mcenet, it intercepts the effluvium. Browne.
These are they that cannot bear the heat
Of figured silks, and under sarcenets sweat.
Dry den.
She darts from sarcenet ambush wily leers,
Twitches thy sleeve, or with familiar airs
Her fan will pat thy cheek ; these snares disdain.
Gay.
SARCOCELE. See SURGERY.
SARCOCOLLA, a concrete juice brought
from Persia and Arabia, in small whitish yellow
grains, with a few of a reddish, and sometimes
of a deep red color mixed with them; the whitest
tears are preferred as being the freshest ; its taste
is bitter, accompanied with a dull kind of sweet-
ness. This drug dissolves in watery liquors,
and is used in medicine.
SARCOPHAGUS [Gr. ffapro^ayoc, from
.<rap£, flesh, and 0ayo>, to eat], in architecture,
the name of a stone found, accord ing to Pliny, in
the Troad, and of which tombs were constructed
on account of its caustic qualities. It is said to
have perfectly consumed the flesh of human bo-
dies buried in it in the space of forty days.
This property, for which it was greatly cele-
brated, is mentioned by all the ancient natu-
ralists. There was another very singular quality
also attached to it, but whether to all, or only
to some peculiar pieces of it, is not known ;
that is, its turning into stone any thing that
was put into vessels made of it. This is re-
corded only by Mutianus and Theophrastus,
except that Pliny had copied it from these au-
thors, and some of the later writers from him.
The custom of burying the dead is proba-
bly more ancient than that of burning their
bodies. Mythology attributes the latter mode
to Hercules, while it assigns the earliest usage
of the former method to the primitive Greeks
and Romans. In the Greek colonies of Italy
they buried, as we do, the entire body ; and,
even when the custom of burning the body be-
came general among the Romans, several fami-
lies retained that of interment. But the term
sarcophagus is by no means limited to a parti-
cular kind of stone. Indeed, its more generally
accepted meaning is a sort of coffin, made, among
the ancients, either of stone, of marble, or por-
phyry. The Greeks also sometimes employed
hard wood, which was calculated to resist humi-
dity, such principally as oak, cedar, or cypress.
Occasionally also they used terra cotta, and even
metal. The form of these sarcophagi was ordi-
narily a parallelopipedon — namely, a long square,
such as our coffin. Sometimes the angles were
rounded, thus assuming an elliptical shape. The
lid of the sarcophagus varies both in shape and
ornament. Sometimes it bears the statue of the
person inhumed therein, often lying down in the
posture used by the ancients as they took their
meals. The capacity or size of the sarcophagi
was also of course very various.
The sarcophagus in which the body of Alex-
ander the Great was supposed to be entombed
is one entire block of Egyptian marble, and is
now in the British Mtiseum, a prize for which
we are principally indebted to the active and
classical spirit of Dr. E. D. Clarke, of Cam-
bridge. Some doubts, however, are entertained
by the learned as tcr this being the real tomb of
Alexander.
SARCOPHAGY, n. s. Gr. <rap£, flesh, and
0ayu>, to eat. The practice of eating flesh.
There was no sarcophagy before the flood ; and,
without the eating of flesh, our fathers preserved
themselves unto longer lives than their posterity.
Browne's Vulgar Errours.
SARCOT'ICK, n. s. Fr. sarcotigue, from
Gr. (rap£. Medicines which fill up ulcers with
new flesh.
The humour was moderately repressed, and
breathed forth ; after which the ulcer incarned with
common sarcoticki, and the ulcerations about it were
cured by ointment of tutty. Wiseman.
SARDANAPALUS, the last king of Assyria,
whose character is one of the most infamous in
history. He clothed himself as a woman, and
spun amidst companies of his concubines. He
painted his face, and buried himself in the most
unbounded sensuality. Having grown odious to
his subjects, a rebellion was formed against him
by Arbaces the Mede, and Belesis the Babylo-
nian. They were attended, however, with very
318
SARDINIA.
bad success at first, being defeated with great
slaughter in three pitched battles. With great
difficulty Belesis prevailed upon his men to keep
the field only five days longer ; when they were
joined by the Bactrians, who had come to the
assistance of Sardauapalus, but had been pre-
vailed upon to renounce their allegiance to him.
With this reinforcement they twice defeated the
troops of Sardanapalus, who shut himself up in
Nineveh, the capital of his empire. He was
here closely besieged, while the conspirators re-
ceived large accessions of strength from the
revolt of the different provinces ; but Sardana-
palus confided in the prediction that ' Nineveh
could never be taken, unless the river became
her enemy.' The city being well supplied with
provisions, the confederate forces remained two
whole years before it without producing any im-
pression, till at length the Tigris, having been
swollen by unusual quantities of rain, overflowed
twenty stadia (two miles and a half) of the wall,
and thus made a practicable breach. Sardana-
palus now, dreading to fall into the hands of an
enraged enemy, retired into his palace, in a
court of which he caused a vast pile of wood to
be raised ; and heaping upon it all his gold and
silver, and royal apparel, and at the same time
enclosing his eunuchs and concubines in an
apartment within the pile, he set fire to it, and
thus destroyed himself. Athenaeus represents
the treasures thus destroyed as worth a thousand
myriads of talents of gold, and ten times as many
talents of silver, i. e. about £1400,000,000 ster
ling.
SARDANAPALUS, another monarch of Assyria,
mentioned by Clectarchus, who died of old age.
Sir Isaac Newton supposes him to be the same
with Esarhaddon.
SAR'DEL, n. s.
SAR'DINE STONE,
SAR'DIUS.
I A sort of precious stone :
> sardonyx ; found in Sar-
i dinia.
Thou shall set in it four rows of stones ; the first
row shall be a sardius. Exod. xxviii. 7.
He that sat was to look upon, like a jasper and a
sardine stone. Rev. iv. 3.
SARDINIA, an insular and continental king-
dom of Southern Europe. The continental part
occupies the north-west portion of Italy, and is
bounded by Switzerland on the north, the duchies
of Milan and Parma on the east, the Mediter-
ranean on the south, and France on the west.
It stretches about 200 miles from north to south,
and 1 30 from east to west. With the island, it
comprises a surface of 27,400 English square
miles, and a population of 3,994,000.
All the continental dominions of the king of
Sardinia had, without ceremony, been seized by
the French, and were united to their empire, till
the congress of Vienna, which restored it to the
condition of 1792, adding the states of Genoa,
and making other slight changes on the frontiers
of Switzerland and France. It contains at present
the following countries : —
Countries.
Square miles.
Population.
Chief Towns.
Inhabitants.
Piedmont, with the county of Nice .
7900
900
1,750,000
186,000
Turin
Casale
85,000
15,000
Part of the duchy of Milan . . .
Territory of the late Republic of Genoa
Savoy (not properly included in Italy)
Island of Sardinia, with the adjacent Isles
3300
2300
3800
9200
556,000
532,000
450,000
520,000
Alessandria
Genoa
Chamberri
Cagliari
35,000
80,000
12,000
30,000
Piedmont thus appears one of the best peopled
districts in Europe, while the mountainous duchy
of Savoy is the most thinly peopled of the conti-
nental states. Intersected from north to south
by the Maritime Alps, Continental Sardinia can
scarcely be excelled in sublime mountain scenery.
The ridge that, sweeping round the gulf of Ge-
noa, joins the Appennines, gives a fine character
to the southern regions, while all the centre and
eastern districts form part of the grand basin of
the Po, the greatest river of this kingdom. The
summit of Mont Blanc, rising 15,660 feet above
the level of the sea, with Mont Cenis, Mont Viso,
and several other lofty peaks, serrate the western
chain ; and the noble St. Bernard, Mont Rosa,
and others of the great Alps, rise majestically
on its northern frontier. The Tanaro, the Siara,
and other rivers, fall into the Po, from the south
and south-east; while the Doira, Baltea, the
Sesia, and the Tesino, enter it from the north.
The last separates the Austrian from the Sar-
dinian dominions. Most of the lakes in northern
Italy are situated between the eastern confines of
Sardinia and the top of the Adriatic. Lago
Maggiore forms a part of the north-west boun-
dary, while that of Geneva stretches along the
borders of Switzerland.
The soil in the lower parts of these territories
is a rich sandy loam, intermixed with gravel ;
but the more elevated parts are chiefly composed
of rock. The climate is hot in the valleys ; on
the hills mild ; and on the mountains severe :
but in most places, except the marshy plains, it
is salubrious. The annual temperature of Genoa,
in the immediate vicinity of the sea and 'the
mountains, is about 61° of Fahrenheit's ther-
mometer. In the lower parts all kinds of Euro-
pean grain, with Indian corn, rice, and hemp,
are produced. Oranges, lemons, olives, vines,
mulberries, figs, and other fruits, are of the
finest flavor ; and rich pastures feed, in several
places, large herds of cattle. Irrigation is prac-
tised to a great extent. Silk is a valuable pro-
duct, and of good quality here. The Alps of
Piedmont contain gold, silver, and copper ; the
last, in the duchy of Aosta, is often mixed with
antimony, zinc, and arsenic. A vein of cobalt
has been discovered not long since, a little east
of Mont Blanc, and plumbago near Binay.
Green porphyry is found on Mont Viso, and
various inferior precious stones in other places.
Valuable marbles are also found in many parts:
and some of the mineral waters are in good re
pute ; particularly the baths of Binay.
SARDINIA.
319
SARDINIA, THE ISLAND or, is fifty-five
leagues long, north and south, and twenty-
five broad, having upwards of 200 leagues of
coast. On the north it is mountainous, but
has extensive plains, marshes, and lakes, towards
the south. It has productive iron and lead
mines, some poor silver ones, copper, pyrites,
precious stones, porphyry, marbles, alabaster,
and some thermal springs. The two principal
rivers are the Oristano and Fumendosa. The
former, also called the Tirsi, empties itself into
the gulf of Oristano on the west coast, and the
latter on the south-east coast. There is said to
be an inland navigable communication between
Cagliari and Oristano, principally by the river
Mariel, which empties itself into the gulf of
Cagliari. The soil in the valleys is fertile, pro-
ducing wheat and barley, and all the fruit trees
of Europe, besides oranges, lemons, jujubes,
grapes, palms, caroubs, lentisk (cistus ladanum),
tobacco, &c. The horse is here met with in a
wild state : it is small, well made, and very
active. The asses are strong ; the mules few ;
the hogs excellent, being fed on chestnuts. The
wild quadrupeds are small deer, abundance of
wild hogs : the muffoli, or wild sheep, inhabits
the most solitary parts of the mountains. The
island of Assinara has numbers of land turtle,
and sea turtle are taken on the coasts as well as
tunny fish, but both anchovies and sardines are
scarce. The small bustard and wild-ducks
abound. The climate is in general healthy, ex-
cept in the vicinity of the morasses, which cause
putrid fevers. The population is about 50,000,
and the revenues do not exceed £80,000. Sur-
rounded by people highly civilised, the Sardes
are still in a state of surprising barbarity. In
the country the men are clothed in goat-skins,
one before and another behind, without breeches,
shoes, or stockings, and a woollen or skin cap on
the head. The women have no other habili-
ment than a long woollen gown and a woollen
cap. The peasants always go armed to defend
themselves from one another; for they are all
robbers and assassins, so that travelling in the
interior is extremely unsafe without an escort ;
and it is even dangerous for ships to send their
people on shore for water unless they are well
armed. In short, the Sardes are the Malays of
the Mediterranean. They are, however, strongly
attached to their king and country. The bar-
barism of the peasantry is strongly contrasted
by the pomp and outward show of the citizens
of the capital, all of whom, mechanics not ex-
cepted, strut about with bag-wig, sword, and
chapeau bras ; and even in this costume it is
common to be solicited for charity.
The coasts are indented by numerous gulfs and
lined with islets and rocks. The principal
headlands are, cape Comino, the east point and
north limit of the gulf of Orosei. Cape Car-
bonera, the south-east point and east limit of the
gulf of Cagliau : off it is the rocky island Cor-
tellazzo (Ficaria), the west point of which is
foul, but there is a good road on its north-west :
on it is a castle, and north-east of it are two
small islands, with a watch-tower on each ; the
outermost is named Serpentaria. Cape Pola,
the west point of the gulf of Cagliari, is a low
rocky point with a watch-tower, and off it two
rocky islets. Cape Tavolaro, or Teulado, is the
south-west point of the island, and east point of
the gulf of Palma. Cape de Napoli, or la
Fresca, the south point of the gulf of Oristano,
on the middle of the west coast. Cape della
Cacia (Nympheus) on the north-west. Cape
Falcon (Gorditatum) is the north-west point of
the island.
The chief gulfs are Terra-Nova on the north-
east, the north point of which is cape Figueri ;
Porto Cavallo within the islands Tavolaro, and
others. The gulf of Orosei, between cape Co-
mino and Monte Santo ; the bay of Oliastro,
south of cape Monte Santo, and of which cape
Bellevue is the south point. The gulf of Cag-
liari on the south-east, at the head of which is
Cagliari (Calaris), the capital of the island, con-
taining 25,000 inhabitants. Its port is formed
by two moles, and receives vessels of twelve
feet. The gulf of Rosso has cape Tavolaro for
its west point : near its head is the isle Ilossa,
tolerably large, flat, and very rocky, within
which is good anchorage before a river. The
gulf of Palma, at the south-west extremity of the
island, is formed by the main land on the east,
and by the island Antiocha, also called St. Jago
and Palma de Sal (Plumbaria), on the west,
which is three leagues long and one broad. In
the entrance of the gulf are two great rocks,
named the Bull and Cow. A league north-west
of Antiocha, and three leagues from the main,
is the island San Pietro (Accepitrum), rocky,
barren, and surrounded by islets, with fort St.
Carlos on its east side. The gulf of Oristano
on the middle of the west coast. Porto Conta
on the north-west is a good harbour whose en-
trance is protected by two towers ; that on the
right on an elevation seventy feet high, and so
perpendicular that the ascent is by a rope ladder.
There is good anchorage throughout the port,
except near the town, where are some rocks level
with the sea. At the head of the port is a spring
of brackish water.
The north coast of the island curves greatly
inward, forming a large gulf between the island
Asinara on the north-west and Cape Scardo, the
north point of Sardinia. The island Asinara
(Herculis) is separated from cape Falcon by a
channel with but two fathoms, and in it is the
little island Piana. Asinara is very irregular,
but three leagues in its greatest length. On its
east side is Porto Trabuco, well sheltered, and
with good anchorage in six and eight fathoms.
Sassari, the second town of the island, is on the
river Fiuminargia, four leagues from the sea,
Its port, named Torres, is at the mouth of the
river, secured by two moles. Off the north-east
end of Sardinia are the isles Madelaine (Her-
maea), between which and the main is an excel-
lent road for the largest ships. On the largest
island is a village and several forts, and here
beef, wine, and vegetables may be procured for
a fleet, and water from a considerable river on
the main.
Sardinia, as well as Corsica, passed under the
dominion of successive masters, until it came
in the seventh century under that of the Sara-
cens, who were driven from it by the Pisaus an.l
SAR
320
SAR
Genoese, and the Genoese were dispossessed of
it by the king of Arragon in 1330. It remained
with Spain until 1708, when it was taken by the
English for the emperor of Germany, who in
1720 ceded it with the title of kingdom to the
house of Savoy.
'The inhabitants of Sardinia,' says Mr. Salt,
* (I speak of the common people,) arc yet scarcely
above the negative point of civilisation; perhaps
it would be more correct to say that they ap-
pear to have sunk a certain way back into bar-
barism. They wear, indeed, linen shirts, fas-
tened at the collar by a pair of silver buttons,
like hawks' bills ; but their upper dress of shaggy
goat skins is in the pure savage style. A few
have gone one step nearer to perfectibility, and
actually do wear tanned leather coats, made
somewhat in the fashion of the armor worn in
Europe in the fifteenth century. With such du-
rable habiliments, it is easy to conceive that they
do not require much assistance from the manu-
factures of foreign countries.'
SARDIS, or SAUDES, now called SARDO or
SART, an ancient towa of Asia, in Natolia, about
forty miles east of Smyrna. It was much cele-
brated in early antiquity, was enriched by the
fertility of the soil, and had been the capital of
the Lydian kings. It was seated on the side of
mount Tmclus ; and the citadel, placed on a lofty
hill, was remarkable for its great strength. It
was the seat of king Croesus, and was in his time
taken by Cyrus ; after which the Persian satrap
f>r commandant resided at Sardis, as the empe-
ror did at Susa. The city was also taken, burnt,
and evacuated by the Milesians in the time of
Darius, and the city and fortress surrendered on
the approach of Alexander after the battle of the
Granicus. Under the Romans, Sardis was a very
considerable place till the time of Tiberius Caesar,
jvhen it suffered prodigiously by an earthquake.
The munificence of the emperor, however, was
nobly exerted to repair the damages. Julian at-
tempted to restore the heathen worship in the
place. He erected temporary altars where none
had been left, and repaired the temples where
any vestiges remained. In the year 400 it was
plundered by the Goths, and it suffered consi-
derably in the subsequent troubles of Asia. On
the incursions of the Tartars, in 1304, the Turks
were permitted to occupy a portion of the cita-
del, separated by a strong wall with a gate, and
were afterwards murdered in their sleep. The
site of this once noble city is now green and
flowery, the whole being reduced to a poor vil-
lage. There are, however, some curious remains
of antiquity about it, and some ruins which dis-
play its ancient grandeur.
The SARDIUS, SAIIDEI., or SARDINE STONE,
was a precious stone of a blood red color. The
best came from Babylon.
SAR'DONYX, n. s. A precious stone. See
below.
The onyx is an accidental variety of the agate
kind; 'tis of a dark horny colour, in which is a
plate of bluish white, and sometimes of red : when
oa one or both sides tlie white there happens to lie
also a plate of a reddish colour, the jewellers call
the stone a tardontir. Wwdward.
'ihr SARDONYX is a precions stone consisting
of a mixture of white and red cornelian, some-
times in strata, but at other times blended toge-
ther. It is found 1. Striped with white and red
strata, which may be cut in cameo as well as the
onyx. 2. White with red dendritica! figures,
greatly resembling the mocha stone ; but with
this difference, that the figures in the sardonyx
are of a red color, in the other black. The sar-
donyx was highly esteemed among the ancients ;
the Romans used it in rings and other articles of
jewellery. According to Pliny, the rings of
knights and senators we're frequently adorned
with the sardonyx. Martial uses the expression
sardonychata manus to indicate a hand embel-
lished with rings of sardonyx.
SARI, a commercial town of Mazanderan,
Persia, on the coast of the Caspian. It is
an ancient city, alluded to by the poet Fer-
dusi; and, when visited by Hanvvay, contained
four or five temples, built of the most solid ma-
terials, with rotundas, thirty feet in diameter,
and nearly 120 feet high. Sari is well fortified,
having a good wall and deep ditch, and a palace
the residence of one of the Persian princes. It
is crowded with inhabitants, we are told, and a
society of Armenians is established in its vici-
nity. It has a brisk trade with Astracan and the
interior. Long. 52° 58' E.,' lat. 35° 35' N.
SARISBURIENSIS (Joannes), or John
of Sarisbury, an English writer, born at Ro-
chester about 1110, and who went to France in
1126. He was sent by Henry II. to pope Eu-
genius, and was much patronised by him and
his successor, and by Thomas a Becket, the
chancellor, whom he accompanied in his travels
to France. When Becket was murdered, Saris-
hury was severely wounded in the arm, defend-
ing him. He afterwards went to Fiance, where
he was made bishop of Chartres in 1179. He
died about 1181. He wrote, 1. Policraticon,
sive de Nugis Curialium, et Yestigiis Philoso-
phorum ; 2. Letters ; 3. The Life of Thomas a
Becket; and, 4. A Treatise upon Logic and Phi-
losophy.
SARK, n. s. Sax. pcynk. A shark or shirk;
in Scotland, a shirt.
Flaunting beaux gan^ with their breast open, and
their sarks over their waistcoats. Arbuthnot.
SARK, in geography, a British island in the
English Channel, near the coast of France ;
about six miles east of Guernsey, on which it is
dependent, and west of Jersey. The climate is
healthy, and the land, though sandy, sufficiently
fertile to produce provisions for its inhabitants.
It is about two miles square, and contains about
450 inhabitants. The island is surrounded with
steep rocks, and the air is in general serene, free
from fogs and damps, and remarkably healthy.
SAR LAT, a town, the capital of an arron-
dissement in the department of the Dordogne,
in the south-west of France, situated on the
Sarlat. It has nothing interesting except a few
Roman remains, the houses being ill built, and
the streets narrow. Before the revolution it was
the seat of a bishop. Population 0000. Thirty
miles south-east of Perigueux, and ninety-eight
east by north of Bordeaux.
SARMATlA,in ancient geography, an exten-
SAR
321
SAR
sive country at the north of Europe and Asia,
lying partly in the former and partly in the lat-
ter; comprehending all Poland, Russia, and
great part of Tartary. Littleton. It was divided
into European and Asiatic.
ASIATIC SARMATIA was bounded by Hyr-
cania, the Tanais, and the Euxine Sea. It con-
tained Great Tartary, Circassia, and the neigh-
bouring country.
EUROPEAN SARMATIA was bounded by the
ocean on the north, Tanais on the east, the Jazy-
gae on the south, and the Vistula on the west.
It contained the modern countries of Russia,
Poland, Lithuania, and Little Tartary. Lem-
priere.
SARMATIANS, Sarmatii, the ancient inha-
bitants of Sarmatia. They were a savage unci-
vilised nation, often confounded with the Scy-
thians, naturally warlike, and they painted their
bodies to appear more terrible in battle. They
were infamous for their lewdness, and in the
time of the emperors they became very power-
ful, and disturbed the empire by their frequent
incursions ; till at last, increased by the savage
hordes of Scythia, they successfully invaded,
and finally ruined the empire in the third and
fourth centuries. They generally lived on the
mountains, without houses, residing in their cha-
riots, whence they were called Hamaxobii. They
lived upon plunder, and fed upon milk mixed
with the blood of horses.
SARMATIAN SEA, or SARMATICUM MARE,
a name given to the Euxine Sea, because on the
coast of Sarmatia. Ovid.
SARNO, an inland town of Naples, in the
Principato Citra, near the base of Mount Vesu-
vius, remarkable for the superior quality of the
silk raised in its environs. It has an old castle
belonging to the Barberini family, who are dukes
of Sarno. It is the see of a bishop. Inhabitants
1 2,000. Twenty miles east of Naples, and twelve
north by west of Salerno.
SARONICUS SINUS, the Saronic Bay, in
ancient geography, a bay of the ^Egean Sea, on
the south of Attica, and north of Peloponnesus :
so named from Saron king of Tro?zene, who was
drowned in it, swimming after a stag. The entry
to it was between the promontories of Sunium
and Scylla.
SAROS, or SCHAROS, a county of Hungary,
separated from Austrian Galicia by the Carpa-
thians. Its area is about 1400 square miles,
containing several lofty mountains, the chief of
which are called Simonka and Oblik. The mi-
neral springs are numerous ; but there are few
mines, except of salt : there is also a mine of
opals at Czervenitz. The cold is rather intense,
on account of the vicinity of the mountains ;
but corn succeeds, and vines in particular spots.
Population 142,000. The chief town is Eperies.
SAROS-PATAK, a well built town of the north-
east of Hungary, on the Bodros. It has a Ca-
tholic, Calvinist, and Greek church. Here is also
a Calvinist college, on a large scale. Inhabit-
ants 8000. Fourteen miles north by east of
Tokay, and 125 E. N. E of Pest.
SAROTHRA, in botany, bastard gentian, a
genus of the trigynia ord> , and pentandria class
of plants ; natural order twentieth, rotacese ;
VOL. XIX.
COR. pentapetalous : CAPS, unilocular,
and colored.
SARPEDON, in fabulous history, the son of
Jupiter by Europa, and younger brother of Mi-
nos, with whom he stood competitor for the
kingdom of Crete. Failing in that attempt, he
went to Caria, and built Miletus.
SARPEDON, another son of Jupiter by Lao-
damia, daughter of Bellerophon, flourished about
a century later than the brother of Minos. He
went to the Trojan war to assist king Priam
against the Greeks, where he was attended by
his faithful friend Glaucus. He made a great
slaughter of the Greeks; but was at last killed
by Patroclus.
SARRACENA, or SARRACONIA, in botany,
side-saddle flower, a genus of the monogynia
order, and polyandria class of plants ; natural
order fifty-fourth, miscellanea : COR. pentapeta-
lous: CAL. double, triphyllous below, pentaphyl-
lous above : CAPS, quinquelocular ; the style has
a stigma of the form of a shield. Species four,
all natives of America.
SARRASIN, or SARRAZIN, in fortification, a
kind of portcullis, otherwise called a herse, which
is hung with ropes over the gate of a town o*
fortress, to be let fall in case of a surprise.
SARSAPARILLA, in botany. See SMILAX.
SART, an insignificant village of Asia Minor,
distinguished by containing on its site the ruins
of Sardis. These are confusedly scattered over
a large verdant plain, and consist largely of
bricks, so strongly cemented as to make it
scarcely possible to detach them. They seem
to have no tendency to crumble to pieces by
mere time.
SARTHE, or SARTE, a department of the
north-west of France, comprising the greater
part of the former province of Maine, and
bounded by the departments of the Orne, the
Loir and Cher, and the Mayenne. It is nearly
of a circular form, and has a superficial and level
extent of 2430 square miles, except in the north-
west part, where there are small hills. Lime and
sand predominate in the soil, which yields luxu-
riant fields of corn. The principal rivers are
the Sarthe, the Loir, the Huine. The climate is
mild, and the air healthy. The productions,
beside corn, are flax, hemp, vines, and fruits.
Here are also some iron mines and marble quar-
ries. Grazing is followed to a considerable
extent : the principal manufactures are of hard-
ware, leather, paper, and woollens. The de-
partment is in the diocese of Le Mans, and juris-
diction of the cour royale of Angers, and is
divided into four arrondissements, LP Mans
(the capital), La Fleche, Mamers, and St. Calais.
Population 410,000.
SARTORIUS (from sartor, a tailor; because
tailors cross their legs with it), a flat slender
muscle which is the longest of the human body,
and from an inch and a half to two inches in
breadth, situated immediately under the integu-
ments, and extending obliquely from the upper
and anterior part of the thigh, to the upper an-
terior part of the tibia ; being enclosed by a thin
membranous sheath, which is derived from the
adjacent fascia lata. It serves to bend the leg
obliquely inwards, or to roll the thigh outwards,
SAS
322
SAT
and at the same time to cross one leg over ano-
ther. See ANATOMY.
SARUM, OLD, formerly a borough of Wilt-
shire, about one mile north of New Sarura or
Salisbury. It has the ruins of a fort which be-
longed to the ancient Britons ; and is said also
to have been a Roman station. In the north-
SASHES, in military dress, are worn by the
officers of most nations, either round their waist
or over their shoulders. Those for the British
army are made of crimson silk.
SASNEE, a town and fortress of Hindostaa,
province of Agra, once the residence of a
zemindar, who, having proved refractor)', was
west angle stood the palace of the bishop, whose expelled by the British after a desperate resist-
see was removed hither from Wilton and Sher-
born ; but, the bishop quarreling with king Ste-
phen, he seized the castle and put a garrison into
it, which was the principal cause of its destruc-
tion, as the see was soon after removed hence
to Salisbury in 1219. Here synods and par-
ance in 1803. Long. 78° 4' E., lat. 27° 45' N.
SASSAFRAS, in botany. See LAURI-S.
SASSARI, a considerable town and province
of the island of Sardinia, standing in a luxur>-
ant neighbourhood, and abounding with some
rivers. It is the seat of the courts of justice, as
liaments have formerly been held, and hither well as of a university, and several lesser semi-
were the states of the kingdom summoned to naries. It is likewise the see of an archbishop,
swear fidelity to William the Conqueror. Here and contains an unusual number of churches,
also was a pakce of the British and Saxon The harbour, called Porto Torre, is situated on
kings, and of the Roman emperors ; which was the gulf of this name, about ten miles from the
deserted in the reign of Henry III., for want of town, and communicates with it by means of a
water, so that one farm-house is all that is left of river. Sixty-four miles north of Oristano.
this ancient city ; it was called the Borough of SATALIA, ANTALIA, or ADALIA, a city of
Old Sarum, and sent two members to pasliament, Caramania, on the site of the ancient Olbia, and
who were chosen by the proprietors of certain beautifully situated round a small harbour : on
adjacent lands. It was disfranchised in 1832. «he level summit of the hill the city is enclosed
SARUN, an extensive district of Hindostan, by a ditch, a double wall, and a series of square
in" the province of Bahar, on the north-east side towers, about fifty yards asunder. Between two
of the Ganges ; one of the most prosperous for of the towers appear the remains of a splendid
its size in the British territories. The Ganges, gateway, exhibiting fourteen columns, the upper
Gunduck, and several other streams, render it parts of which are of the Corinthian order,
rich in pasture, and it produces excellent cattle The inside walls and towers appear to have been
and horses. A great quantity of the saltpetre well built. The port is enclosed by two stone
exported from Calcutta is manufactured here; piers, which once had towers on the extremities;
the inhabitants are about one-fourth Mahomet-
ans. The chief town is Chuprach.
SARZEDAS, an inland town of the north of
Portugal, supposed to be the Oppidum Sarsi-
dense of the Romans ; eight miles west of Cas-
tel Branoo, and 117 E. N. E. of Lisbon. It
contains 3000 inhabitants, and various antiqui-
but they are now in a ruinous state. The gar-
dens round the town are beautiful. Population
8000.
SATARAH, a celebrated town and fortress of
Bejapoor, Hindostan, occupying the point of a
rock at the west of a range of hills, and having
only a very narrow passage up to it, admitting but
ties. ^Particles of gold are found in the Lica at a single person. After it had capitulated to the
British, in February 1818, the officers declared
that 200 men might defend it against any force.
Taken originally from the king of Bejapoor, by
a little distance.
SASCACHAWAN, or SASKATCHIWINE, a
considerable river of North America, rising in the
Rocky Mountains. Its two principal branches are the Mahratta chief Sevajee, in 1673, this fortress
the north and south, which, pursuing very wind- was captured by Aurungzebe in 1690, but was
ing courses to the east, for about 440 miles, in a retaken soon after the death of that monarch in
direct line, join about sixty miles east of Hud- 1707, and is now the capital of a Mahratta state.
son's House, and then run north-east through
Pine Island Lake, and Cedar Lake, into Lake
Winnipic, in lat. 51° 45' north. As for as Cedar
Lake, the navigation is interrupted by falls and
rapids ; but above this lake it may be considered
navigable for canoes to its sources. On the
It owes its celebrity principally to its having
been for a long period the residence or state
prison of the Maha rajah. Here he was confined
about the middle of the last century by the
peishwa, who usurped the government, still in-
serting the name of the rajah in all public re-
banks are five principal factories of the North- cords and forms. It stands in long. 74° 3' ¥..,
west company.
SASH, n. s. Fr. chassis. Of this word, says
Johnson, the etymologists give no account: I
lat. 17° 30' N., a short distance north of the
Kistnah.
SATCHEL, n. *. Teut.feckel ; I.at. .««•(•«//«.
suppose it comes from scache, of scayoir, to A little bag : commonly a bag used by school-
know, a sash worn being a mark of distinction :
and a sash window being made particularly for
the sake of seeing and being seen. A belt worn
by way of distinction ; a silken band worn by
officers in the army. A window so formed as to
be let up and down by pulleys.
She ventures now to lift the sash ;
The window is her proper sphere. Swift.
She broke a pane in the iaih window that looked
into the yard. Id.
boys to carry books.
The whining schoolboy with his satchel,
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. Shakspeare. At You Like It.
Schoolboys lag with satchels in their hands.
Swift.
SATE, v. a. ") Both verbs, from
SA'TIATE, v. a. & n. *. J Latin satio, signify
SATI'ETY, n. s. 3 to feed abundantly ;
fill ; satisfy : and the first is commonly confined
SAT
to the idea of filling to repletion, ov over fulness,
or beyond natural desire : satiety is fulness be-
yond desire or pleasure ; hence wcarisouieness
of abundance.
He leaves a shallow plash to plunge him in the
deep,
And with satiety seeks to quench his thirst.
Shakspeare.
Those smells are the most grateful where the de-
gree of heat is small, or the strength of the smell
allayed ; for these rather woo the sense than satiate it.
Bacon.
Nothing more jealous than a favourite, especially
towards the waining time and suspect of satiety.
Wotton.
I may yet survive the malice of my enemies, al-
though they should be satiated with my blood.
King diaries.
In all pleasures there is satiety ; and after they be
used, their verdure departeth. Hakewill.
Sated at length, ere long I might perceive
Strange alteration in me. Milton's Paradise Lost.
They satiate and soon fill,
Though pleasant ; but thy words, with grace divine
Imhued, bring to their sweetness no tatietij. Milt<>n.
Whatever novelty presents, children are presently
eager to have a taste, and are as soon satiated with it.
Locke.
How will their bodies stript
Enrich the victors, while the vultures sau
Their maws with full repast. Pkilip$.
The loosened winds
Hurled high above the clouds ; till all their force
Consumed, her ravenous jaws, the earth satiate closed.
Id.
He may be satiated, but not satisfied. Norris.
No action, the usefulness of which has made it
the matter of duty, but a man may bear the con-
tinual pursuit of, without loathing or satiety. South.
Thy useless strength, mistaken king, employ,
Sated with rage, and ignorant of joy. Prior.
Why does not salt of tartar draw more water out
of the air than in a certain proportion to its quan-
tity, but for want of an attractive force after it is *a-
tiated with water ? Newton .
Our generals retired to their estates,
In life's cool evening, satiate of applause,
Nor think of bleeding even in Brunswick's cause.
Pope.
The joy unequalled, if its end it gain,
Without satiety, though e'er so blest,
And but more. relished as the more distressed. Id.
SATELLITE, n. s. \ Fr. satellite; Lat.
SAT'ELLOUS, adj. S satelles. Pope has in
the plural continued the Latin form, and as-
signed it four syllables. I think, says Johnson,
improperly. A small planet revolving round a
larger : consisting of satellites.
Four moons move about Jupiter, and five about
Saturn, called their satellite*. Locke.
The smallest planets are situated nearest the sun
and each other ; whereas Jupiter and Saturn that
are vastly greater, and have many satellites about
them, are wisely removed to the extreme regions of
the system. Bentley.
Ask of yon argent fields above,
Why Jove's satellites are less than Jove "? Pope.
SATELLITES, in astronomy. See ASTRONOMY.
SATGONG, an ancient royal port of Bengal,
known to the Romans by the title of Ganges
Keggia, and formerly the residence of the kings
of that country. The district belonging to it
contained 700 souare miles. It is mentioned in
323 SAT
De Barro's Portuguese History, supposed to
have been written about the year 1530, as being
as great and noble as Chatigong, but less fre-
quented, because its port is not so convenient
for the entry and departure of shipping. It is
first spoken of by the Mabometan historians in
1592, when it was plundered by the Afghauns.
The Dummooda is supposed formerly to have
fallen into the Bhagurutty above Satgong. The
town stands two or three miles from the river
side, and four from Hoogly. Long. 88° 30' E.,
lat. 22° 57' N.
SATHMAH, a county of Hungary, "adjacent
to Transylvania, on both sides of the river
Szamos. Its territorial extent is 2250 square
miles. Many tracts are sandy, others strewed
with soda, or covered with marshes ; the marsh
of Etsed is twenty-eight miles in length ; yet
this country produces on the whole a considera-
ble quantity of wheat, maize, and wine. Parti-
cular districts contain mines of salt and metals.
The chief town is Nagy-Caroly. Population
187,000.
SATHMAR, or SATHMAR NEMETHI, a town 01
Hungary, in the palatinate of the same name,
situated on the Szamos, 255 miles south of
Presburg. It consists of two parts, Sathmar
and Nemethi, standing on the two sides of the
river, and previous to 1715 forming two distinct
towns. The inhabitants carry on an active
trade, and produce a large quantity of wine. In
the neighbourhood are salt-mines. Sathmar is a
bishop's see, erected in 1806, and has a Catholic
seminary, one Greek and two Calvinist churches.
SATIMANGALUM, a town and strong for-
tress of the province of Coimbetoor, South of
India. The fort was built in the seventeenth
century, by Trimula Naick, governor on the part
of the rajah of Madura. It was taken about
fifty years afterwards by the rajah of Mysore, and
by the British in the year 1792. It contains a
temple, dedicated to Vishnu, and is inhabited by
weavers of coarse cotton cloth. A severe battle
was fought in the vicinity of this place between
the British and the troops of Tippo. Long. 77°
20' E., lat. 10° 28' N.
SATIN, n. s. Fr. satin ; Ital. setan; Belg.
sattin. A soft close, shining silk.
SATIN, in the arts, has become of late an arti-
cle of considerable use for hats. See SILK MA-
NUFACTURE.
SATIRE, n. s. -\ Fr. satire ; Lal.satira,
SATIR'IC, adj. I anciently satura. A
SATIR'ICAL, f poem in which wicked-
SATIR'ICALLY, adv. £ ness or folly is censured.
SATIRIST, n. K. V Proper satire, says John-
SAT'IRIZE, v. a. j son, is distinguished by
the generality of the reflection from a lampoon
which is aimed against a particular person : the
adjective and adverb strictly agree with the noun
substantive : a satirist is a writer or utterer of
satires : to satirize, to censure as in a satire.
SATIRE ; in the widest sense of the word,
pungent ridicule or cutting censure of faults,
vices and weaknesses ; hence the phrase, " a
satirical person." In a narrower sense, in
which it is more commonly used, it is a poem,
of which ridicule and censure are the object
and chief characteristic. This species of poetry
Y 2
SAT
324
SAT
nad its origin with the Romans : the name is de-
rived from satur (by no means from satyr), and
refers, originally, to the mixture of subjects
treated, and of metres used, in the earlier pro-
ductions of this kind. Satire is one of the
latest branches of poety cultivated, because it
presupposes not merely much natural wit, but
also acute observation, and much variety of life
and manners to call this wit into exercise. In
fact it is only in an advanced state of society,
where folly and vice force themselves on the
public eye, that a taste can exist for this species
of production. As the object of satire is al-
ways castigation, it is distinguished from mere
wit, which may occupy itself simply with the
ludicrousness of particular relations. The form
of satire is very varied. It may be in the shape
of epistles, tales, dialogues, dramas, (as with
Aristophanes), songs, epics, fables, &c. The most
common form of satire, however, is that of a di-
dactic composition. The ancients wrote their
satires in iambic and dactylic Terse. The moderns
generally use the iambus, sometimes the Alex-
andrine, (q. v.), sometimes the iambic verse of
five feet, the latter sometimes with, sometimes
without, rhyme. The proper didactic satire
originated, as we have said, with the Romans ;
and its inventor was Lucilius : Horace, Juvenal,
and Persius developed it. Vulpius, Casaubon,
and Kunig have written on the Roman satire
Of the modern satirists, we may mention, among
the Italians, Ariosto, Alamanni, Salvator Ros:i,
Meuzini, Dotti, Gasparo Gozzi, Alfieri, &c. ;
among the Spaniards, Cervantes, Quevedo, and
Saavedra; among the French, Regnier, Boileau,
and Voltaire, &c. ; among the Germans, Seb.
Brand, Ulr. Hutten, Fischart, Haller, Rabener,
Lichtenberg, Falk, Wieland, &c. ; among the
English, Donne, Rochester, Dryden, Butler,
Pope, Swift, Young, Churchill, Johnson, Peter
Pindar (Wolcot), Gifford, Mathias ; among the
Poles, Krasiczky. The Greeks had not the pro-
per satire. The poem of Archilocus, and that
of Simonides, were more properly lampoons ;
and the silli had probably a didactic form, but
were of the nature of parody. Entirely diffe-
rent from the satire was the drama satyricon of
the Greeks, invented by Pratinas — a mixture of
tragic, at least heroic action with comic. These
dramas served as interludes and after-pieces, and
had a low comic character. We possess only
one— the Cyclops of Euripides. — See Eichstadt,
De Dramate Gracorum comico-satyrico, fyc.,
and Herrmann and Pinzger on the same sub-
ject.
SAT'ISFY, v. a. kv.n. "I Fr. satufaire ;
SATISFACTION, n. t. I Lat. satisfacio.To
SATISFAC'TI VE, adj. [ content ; please to
SATISFAC'TORY, [^contentment ; re-
SATJSFAC'TORII.Y, adv. jcorapense; con-
SATISFAC'TORINESS, n s. J vince ; appease;
free from doubt or perplexity ; make payment ;
give content : the noun substantive corresponds :
satisfactive and satisfactory mean giving content
or gratification ; atoning : the adverb and noun
substantive following correspond.
Who halh caused it to rain oa the earth to satisfy
the desolate and waste ground, and to cause the bud
of the tender tree to spring forth ? Job.
A most wise and su'Scient means of redemption
and salvation, by the satisfactory and meritorious
death and obedience of the incarnate son of God,
Jesus Christ. Sanderson.
They strain their memory to answer him satisfac-
torily unto all his demands. D'gby.
Die he, or justice must ; unless for him
Some other able, and as willing, pay
The rigid satisfaction, death for death. Milton.
Will he draw out,
Fo/ anger's sake, finite to infinite
In punished man, to satisfy his rigour,
Satisfied never 1 That were to extend
His sentence beyond dust and Nature's law. Id.
By a final and satisfactive discernment of faith, we
lay the last effects upon the first cause of all things.
liroiene.
Bellonius hath been more satisfactorily experimen-
tal, not only affirming that chameleons feed on flies,
but upon exenteration he found these animals in their
bellies. Id.
The incompleatness of the seraphick lover's hap-
piness in his fruitions proceeds not from their want
of satitf actor iness, but his want of an entire posses-
sion of them. hi't/le.
Of ev'ry nation each illustrious name,
Such toys as these have cheated into fame ;
Exchanging solid quiet lo obtain
The windy satisfaction of the brain.
Dry den's Juvenal.
Of many things useful and curious you may satisfy
yourselves in Leonardo de Vinci. Dryden.
Tis a wretched mtisfactia* a revengeful man takes,
even in losing his life, provided his enemy go for
company. L'Estrange.
The mind, having a power to suspend the execu-
tion and satisfaction of any of its desires, as at liberty
to consider the objects of them. Locke.
An intelligent American would scarce take it for a
satisfactory account, if, desiring to learn our architec-
ture, he should be told that a pillar was a thing sup-
ported by a basis. Id.
This I would willingly be satisfied in, whether the
soul, when it thinks thus, separate from the body,
acts less rationally than when conjointly with it 1
Id.
Run over the circle of earthly pleasures, and, bad
not God secured a man a solid pleasure from his own
actions, he would be forced to complain that pleasure
was not satisfaction. South.
I'm satisfied. My boy has done his duty.
Addison.
The standing evidences of the truth of the Gospel
are in themselves most firm, solid, and satisfying.
Atterbury.
SATURATE, v. a. ) Lat. satura. Fully to
SAT'URABLE, adj. ] impregnate : impregna-
ble with any thing till it will receive no more.
Be the figures of the salts never so various, yet, if
the atoms of water were fluid, they would always so
conform to those figures as to fill up all vacuities ;
and consequently the water would be to. tumble with
the same quantity of any salt, which it is not.
Crew's Cosmo! . Sacra.
Rain-water is plentifully saturated with terres-
trial matter, and more or less stored with it.
Woodward.
His body has been fully saturated with the fluid of
light, to be able lo last so many years without any
sensible diminution, though there are constant ema-
nations thereof. Cheyne.
Still night succeeds
A softened shade, and saturated earth
Awaits the morning beam. Thomswi.
SAT 3:
SATURATION, in chemistry, is the impreg-
nating an acid with an alkali, or vice versa, till
cither will receive no more, and the mixture will
then become neutral. Some substances unite in
all proportions. Such, for example, are acids in
general, with water, and many of the metals with
each other. But there are likewise many sub-
stances which cannot be dissolved in a fluid, at
a settled temperature, in any quantity beyond a
certain proportion. Thus water will dissolve
only about one-third of its weight of common
salt, and if more be added it will remain solid.
A fluid, which holds in solution as much of any
substance as it can dissolve, is said to be satu-
rated with it. But saturation with one substance
does not deprive the fluid of its power of acting
on and dissolving some other bodies, and in
many cases it increases this power. For exam-
ple, water saturated with salt will dissolve sugar.
SATURDAY, n. s. Sax. r<Erenr&a:S> or
petermj-baej, according to Yerstegan, from j-aeteri
a Saxon idol ; more probably from Saturn, dies
Saturni. The last day of the week.
This matter I handled fully in last Saturday'!
Spectator. Addison,
SATURDAY, the seventh day of the week, is so
called from the idol Sealer, worshipped on this
day by the ancient Saxons, and thought to be the
Saturn of the Latins.
SATUREIA, savory, in botany, a genus of
the gymnospermia order, and didynamia class of
plants ; natural order forty-second, verticillatae :
segments of the corolla nearly equal ; the stamina
standing asunder.
1. S. hortensis, or summer savory, is an an-
nual plant, which grows naturally in the south
of France and Italy, but is cultivated in this
country both for the kitchen and medicinal use.
Summer savory is a very warm pungent aroma-
tic ; and affords in distillation with water a sub-
tle essential oil, of a penetrating smell, and very
hot acrid taste. It yields little of its virtues by
infusion to aqueous liquors ; rectified spirit ex-
tracts the whole of its taste and smell, and ele-
vates nothing in distillation.
2. S. montana, or winter savory, is a perennial
plant growing naturally in the south of France
and Italy, but is cultivated in gardens both for
culinary and medicinal purposes. Both kinds are
propagated by seeds. Those of the first kind
should be sown in the beginning of April upon
a bed of light earth, either where they are to re-
main, or for transplanting. If the plants are to
stand unremoved, they should be sown thinly;
but if they are to be transplanted, they may be
sown closer. The second species may be sowii
upon a poor dry soil, where the plants will en-
dure the severest winters, though they are often
killed by the frost when planted in good ground.
SATURN, n. s. > Fr. saturne ; Lat. satur-
SAT'URNINE, adj.ynus. A planet long thought
SATUR'XIAN. j the remotest of the solar
system : supposed by astrologers to impress dul-
ness, or severity of temper : hence the adjective,
which signifies gloomy; grave; severe: and
hence the opposing adjective saturnian, which
signifies golden ; happy ; like the fabled days of
the reign of Saturn.
I may cast my readers under two divisions, the
>5 SAT
mercurial, and saturnine : the first are the gay part,
the others are of a more sober and solemn turn.
Addison.
The smallest planets are placed nearest the sun
and each other ; whereas Jupiter and Satuni, that
are vastly greater, are wisely removed to the extreme
regions. Bentley.
Th' Augustus, born to bring Saturnian times.
Pope.
From the far hounds
Of utmost Saturn, wheeling wide his round.
Thornton.
SATURN, in astronomy, one of the planets of
our solar system. See ASTRONOMY, Index^
SATURN, in chemistry, an appellation anciently
given to lead.
SATURN, in heraldry, denotes the black color
in blazoning the arms of sovereign princes.
SATURN, in the ancient mythology, one of the
principal of the Pagan deities, was the son of
Ccelus and Terra, and the father of Jupiter, Nep-
tune, and Pluto. He deposed and mutilated his
father, and obliged his brother Titan to resign
his crown to him, on condition of his bringing up
none of his male issue, that the succession might
at length devolve on him. For this purpose he
devoured all the sons he had by his wife Kheaor
Cybele : but, bringing forth at one time Jupiter and
Juno, she presented the latter to her husband, and
sent the boy to be nursed on Mount Ida ; when
Saturn, being informed of her having a son, de-
manded the child ; but in his stead his wife gave
him a stone swaddled up like an infant, which
he instantly swallowed. Titan, finding that Sa-
turn had violated the contract he had made with
him, put himself at the head of his children, and
made war on his brother; and, having made him
and Cybele prisoners, confined them in Tarta-
rus ; but Jupiter raised an army in Crete, went
to his father's assistance, defeated Titan, and
restored Saturn to the throne. Some time after,
Saturn being told that Jupiter intended to de-
throne him, endeavoured to prevent it ; but the
latter, being informed of his intention, deposed
his father, and threw him into Tartarus. But
Saturn, escaping thence, fled into Italy, where
he was kindly received by Janus, king of the
country, who associated him in the govern-
ment : whence Italy obtained the name of Satur-
nia Tellus ; as also that of Latium, from lateo,
' to lie hid.' There Saturn, by the wisdom and
mildness of his government, is said to have pro-
duced the golden age. Saturn is represented as
an old man with four wings, armed with a scythe.
Sometimes he is delineated under the figure of a
serpent with its tail in its mouth : this is em-
blematic of the seasons, which roll perpetually
in the same circle. Sometimes, also, Saturn is
painted with a sand-glass in his hand. The
Greeks say that the story of his mutilating his
father and destroying his children is an allegory,
which signifies, that Time devours the past and
present, and will also devour the future. Tatius,
king of the Sabines, first built a temple to Saturn
on the Capitoline hill : a second was afterwards
added by Tullus Hostilius, and a third by the
first consuls. On his statues were generally
hung fetters, in commemoration of the chains he
had worn when imprisoned by Jupiter. Fron.
vhis circumstance, all slaves that obtained
SAT
tiu'ir liberty generally dedicated their fetters to
him.
SATt'HNALIA, in Roman antiquity, a festi-
val observed about the middle of December, in
honor of the god Saturn, whom Lucian intro-
duces giving an account of the ceremonies ob-
served on this occasion, thus: — ' During my
whole reign, which lasts but for one week, no
public business is done : there is nothing but
drinking, singing, playing, creating imaginary
kings, placing servants with their masters at
table, &c. There shall be no disputes, reproaches,
&c., but the rich and poor, masters and slaves,
shall be equal,' &c. On this festival the Ro-
mans sacrificed bare-headed, contrary to their
custom at other sacrifices. During its continu-
ance no business or profession was allowed to
be carried on except cookery ; all distinctions of
rank ceased ; and slaves could say what they
pleased to their masters with impunity.
SATURNIA, a name of Juno as the daughter
of Saturn.
SATURNINUS (P. Sempronius), a Roman
general under Valerian, who was proclaimed
emperor by the troops against his inclination.
He was afterwards murdered by them, for at-
tempting to restore the ancient discipline, in his
forty-third year, A. D. 262. See ROME.
SATURNINUS (Sextus Julius, or Junius), an-
other Roman general, a native of Gaul, who was
compelled by the soldiers to assume the title of
emperor. See ROME. He was ip favor with
Aurelian.
SATYAVRATA, or MENU, in Indian mytho-
lygy, is believed by the Hindoos to have reigned
over the whole world in the earliest age of their
chronology, and to have resided in the country of
Dravira on the coast of the eastern Indian penin-
sula. His patronymic name was Vaivaswata, or
child of the sun. In the Bhagavat we are in-
formed that the Lord of the universe, intending
to preserve him from the sea of destruction
caused by the depravity of the age, thus told him
how hg was to act : — ' In seven days from the
present time, O thoa tamer of enemies, the three
worlds will be plunged in an ocean of death ;
but, in the midst of the destroying waves, a large
vessel, sent by me for thy use, shall stand before
thee. Then shalt thou take all medicinal herbs,
all the rariety of seeds ; and, accompanied by
seven saints, encircled by pairs of all brute ani-
mals, thou shalt enter the spacious ark and con-
tinue in it, secure from the flood, on one immense
ocean without light, except the radiance of thy
holy companions. When the ship shall be agi-
tated by an impetuous wind, thou shalt fasten it
with a large sea serpent on my horn ; for I will
be near thee : drawing the vessel, with thee and
thy attendants, I will remain on the ocean, O
chief of men, until a night of Brahma shall be
completely ended. Thou shalt then know my
true greatness, rightly named the supreme God-
head ; by my favor all thy questions shall be
answered, and thy mind abundantly instructed.'
TbH story is evidently that of Noah disguised by
A-iatic fiction and allegory.
> \ I' VI!, M.S. i Lat. SH tints. A sylvan
SATYRI'ASIS. J god ; supposed among the
ancient, to \<>< rude :HK! lev'
low.
Satyrs, us Pliny (.usuries, were found in time past
in the eastern mountains of India. Peacham.
If the chyle \>e very plentiful, it breeds a taty-
riasis, or an abundance of seminal lympha.
Flayer on the Humours.
The heathen lawgivers of ancient days,
IS'ames almost worthy of a Christian's praise,
Would drive them forth from the resort of men,
And shut up every satyr in his den. Cou-per.
SATYRS, in ancient mythology, a species of
demi-gods who dwelt in the woods. They are
represented as monsters, half men and half goats;
having horns on their heads, a hairy body, with
the feet and tail of a goat. They are generally
in the train that follows Bacchus. As the poets
supposed that they were remarkable for piercing
eyes and keen raillery, they have placed them in
the same pictures with the Graces, Muses, and
even with Venus herself. It seems probable that
some large species of monkey or baboon seen in
the woods gave the first occasion to feign these
demi-gods. Pliny evidently points out some
sort of ape under the name of Satyr. He says
satyrs are found in some mountains of India;
they are nimble, running .sometimes upon all
four, sometimes erect like men, and they are so
swift that it is difficult to overtake them except
they are old or sick. To this we may add, that
shepherds covered with goatskins, and still more
often priests of Bacchus, counterfeited satyrs, to
seduce the innocent shepherdesses ; and thus we
have the true explication of the fable. Hence
the opinion spread that the woods were full of
these mischievous divinities.' The shepherdesses
trembled for their honor, and the shepherds for
their flocks ; for which reason they sought to
appease them by sacrifices, and by the offerings
of the firstling of their flocks.
SATYRIASIS. See MEDICINE.
SATYR1UM, in botany, a genus of the dian-
dria order, and gynandria class of plants ; natu-
ral order forty-second, verticillata; : nectarium
scrotiform, or inflated double behind the flower.
Species twenty-one, natives of warm climates.
SAVAGE, adj., n. s. & v. a.-\ Fr.
SAV'AGELY, cm.
SAV'AGENE>S, n. $.
SAV'AGEUY.
taught : a man untaught or uncivilised : to make
barbarous (a barbarism of Thomson's) : the ad-
verb corresponding ; and the noun substantives
see below.
Chain me to some sleepy mountain's top,
Where roaring bears and savage lions roam.
Shakspcure.
Your castle is surprised, your wife and babes
Savagely slaughtered. Id. Macbeth.
A savagennx in unreclaimed blood
Of general assault. Id. Il-jmlel.
'I his is the bloodiest shame,
The wildest tavag'ry, the vilest stroke,
That ever wall-eyed wiath, or staring rage,
Presented to the tears of soft remorse. Shahtpeare.
Thus people lived altogether a tawge life, 'till
Saturn, arriving on those coasts, devised laws to
govern them by. Raleigh.
Long after these times were they but savages. Id.
The seditious lived by rapine and ruin of all the
country, omitting nothing of that which tanaget,
unruly behaviour, clu
commit. Hni/tr<i«l.
.•\ r. siiitvu^f .
f Ital. selnipiiio.
f Wild; unculti
J vated ; un-
SAVAGE,
327
I see the savagest of all creatures, lions, tigers,
bears, by an instinct from God, come to seek the ark
(as we see swine foreseeing a storm run home crying
for shelter), men I see not ; reason once debauched
is worse than brutishness. Bp. Hall.
The savage clamour drowned,
Both harp and voice. Milton.
Cornels, and savage berries of the wood,
And roots and herbs, have been my meagre food.
Dryden.
A herd of wild beasts on the mountains, or a
savage drove of men in caves, might be so disor-
dered ; but never a peculiar people.
Sprat's Sermons.
To deprive us of metals is to make us mere savages ;
to change our corn for the old Arcadian diet, our
houses and cities for dens and caves, and our cloath-
ing for skins of beasts : 'tis to bereave us of all arts
and sciences, nay, of revealed religion. Benttey.
Tyrants no more their savage nature kept,
And foes to virtue wondered how they wept. Pope.
The Cyclops were a people of Sicily, remarkable
for savageness and cruelty. Broome.
Friends, relations, love himself,
Savaged by woe, forget the tender tie. Thornton.
SAVAGE (Richard), the poet, was the son of
Anne countess of Macclesfield by the earl of
Rivers, according to her own confession ; and
was born in 1698. This confession of adultery
was made to procure a separation from her hus-
band, the earl of Macclesfield : yet, having ob-
tained this end, no sooner was her spurious off-
spring brought into the world, than she resolved
to disown him ; and, as long as he lived, treated
him with the most unnatural cruelty. She en-
deavoured to send him secretly to the plantations;
but, this plan being frustrated, she placed him
apprentice with a shoemaker. In this situation,
however, he did not long continue ; for his nurse
dying he discovered his real mother, and there-
fore applied to her, and tried every art to attract
her regard. But in vain did he solicit this un-
natural parent ; she avoided him with the utmost
precaution, and took measures to prevent his
ever entering her house. Mean time, having a
strong taste for poetry, he wrote two plays, Wo-
man's a Riddle and Love in a Veil : by the
second of which he acquired the acquaintance of
Sir Richard Steele and Mr. Wilks, by whom he
•was pitied, caressed, and relieved. But the
kindness of his friends not affording him a
constant supply, he wrote the tragedy of Sir
Thomas Overbury, which brought him in £200.
He soon after published a volume of Mis-
cellanies, to which he wrote a preface, in
which he gives an account of his mother's cruelty.
The profits of his tragedy and his Miscellanies
somewhat raised him both in circumstances and
credit; so that the world began to behold him
with a more favorable eye, when both his fame
and life were endangered by a most unhappy
event. A drunken frolic in which he one night
engaged ended in a fray, and, swords having
been drawn on both sides, Savage unfortunately
killed a man, for which he was condemned to be
hanged. But the countess of Hertford at length
laid his whole case before queen Caroline, and
Savage obtained a pardon. Savage now lost
that affection for his mother which the whole
series of her cruelty had not before been able
wholly to repress; and considering her as an
implacable enemy, whom nothing but his blood
could satisfy, threatened to harass her with lam-
poons, and to publish a copious narrative of her
conduct, unless she consented to allow him a
pension. This expedient proved successful ;
and lord Tyrconnel, upon his promise of laying
aside his design of exposing his mother's cruelty,
took him into his family, treated him as an equal,
and engaged to allow him a pension of £200 a-
year. This was the happy period of Savage's
life. He was courted by all who wished to be
thought men of genius and taste. At this time
he published the Temple of Health and Mirth, on
the recovery of lady Tyrconnel from a long illness;
and the Wanderer, a moral poem, which he de-
dicated to lord Tyrconnel, in strains of the highest
panegyric: but these praises he soon was in-
clined to retract, being discarded by the man on
whom they were bestowed. Of this quarrel lord
Tyrconnel and Mr. Savage gave very different
accounts. But our author's conduct was ever
such as made all his friends, sooner or later,
grow weary of him, and even forced most of
them to become his enemies. Being thus once
more turned adrift upon the world, Savage,
whose passions were very strong and whose
gratitude was very small, exposed the faults
of lord Tyrconnel. He also took revenge upon
his mother, by publishing The Bastard. Some
time after this, Savage formed the resolution
of applying to the queen ; who having once
given him life, he hoped she might extend her
goodness to him, by enabling him to support it.
— With this view, he published a poem on hu
birth-day, which he entitled The Volunteer Lau
real ; for which she was pleased to send him £50
with an intimation that he might annually ex-
pect the same bounty. But this annual allow-
ance was nothing to a man of his strange and
singular extravagance. His usual custom was,
as soon as he had received his pension, *n dis-
appear with it, and secrete himself from his
most intimate friends, till every shilling of it was
spent; which done he again appeared, pennyless
as before ; but he would never inform any per-
son where he had been, nor in what manner his
money had been dissipated. — From the reports,
however, of some who penetrated his haunts,
he expended botli his time and his cash in the
most sordid and despicable sensuality ; particu-
larly in eating and drinking, in which he would
indulge in the most unsocial manner, sitting
whole days and nights by himself, in obscure
houses of entertainment, over his bottle and
trencher, immersed in filth and sloth, with scarcely
decent apparel ; generally wrapped up in a
horseman's great coat. His wit and talents,
however, still raised him new friends as fast as
his misbehaviour lost him his old ones. Yet such
was his conduct, that occasional relief only fur-
nished the means of occasional excess ; and he
defeated all the attempts made by his friends to
fix him in a decent way. Yet, amidst all his
penury and wretchedness, this man had so much
pride, and so high an opinion of his own merit,
that he was always ready to repress, with scorn
and contempt, the least appearance of any slight
towards himself, in the behaviourof his acquaint-
ance ; among whom he looked upon none as his
superior. He would be treated as an equal,
328
S A V A G I S M.
even by persons of the highest rank. He once
refused to wait upon a gentleman who was de-
sirous of relieving him when in the lowest dis-
tress, only because the message signified the gen-
tleman's desire to see him at nine in the morning.
.His life was rendered still more unhappy by the
death of the queen, in 1738, when his pension
was discontinued. His distress now became so
notorious that a scheme was at length concerted
for procuring him a permanent relief. It was
proposed that he should retire into Wales, with
an allowance of £50 a year, on which he was to
live privately, in a cheap place, for ever quitting
his town haunts, and resigning all farther preten-
sions to fame. This offer he seemed gladly to
accept. In 1739 he set out for Swansey, in the
Bristol stage-coach, and was furnished with fif-
teen guineas to bear the expense of his journey.
But, on the fourteenth day after his departure,
his friends and benefactors, the principal of
whom was Mr. Pope, who expected to hear of
his arrival in Wales, were surprised with a letter
from Savage, informing them that he was yet
upon the road, and could not proceed for want
of money. There was no other remedy than a
remittance ; which was sent him, and by the
help of which he was enabled to reach Bristol,
whence he was to proceed to Swansey by water.
At Bristol, however, he found an embargo laid
upon the shipping ; so that he could not imme-
diately obtain a passage. Here, therefore, being
obliged to stay for some time, he so ingratiated
himself with the principal inhabitants, that he
was often invited to their houses, distinguished
at their public entertainments, and treated with
a regard that highly gratified his vanity. At
length, with great reluctance, he proceeded to
Swansey ; where he lived about a year, very
much dissatisfied with the diminution of his sa-
lary ; for he had, in his letters, treated his con-
tributors so insolently that most of them with-
drew their subscriptions. Here he finished a
tragedy, and resolved to return with it to Lon-
don ; which was strenuously opposed by his con-
stant friend Mr. Pope ; who proposed that Sa-
vage should put this play into the hands of Mr.
Thomson and Mr. Mallet, that they* might fit it
for the stage, that his friends should receive the
profits it might bring in, and tha* the author
should receive the produce by way of annuity.
This kind and prudent scheme was rejected by
Savage with contempt. — He declared he would
not submit his works to any one's correction :
;ind that he would no longer be kept in leading-
strings. Accordingly he soon returned to Bristol,
in his way to London ; but at Bristol, meeting
with a repetition of the same kind treatment
he had before found there, he was tempted to
make a second stay in that opulent city for some
time. Here he was again not only caressed and
treated, but the sum of £30 was raised for him,
with which it had been happy if he had imme-
diately departed for London. But he never
considered that a frequent repetition of such
kindness was not to be expected. In short, he
remained here till his company was no longer
welcome. Necessity came upon him before he
^•:is aware ; his money v-w spent, his clothes
vcrc worn nut, his appparanri- was shabby ; lie
now began to find every man from home at
whose house he called; and he found it difficult
to obtain a dinner. Thus reduced, it would
have been prudent in him to have withdrawn
from the place; but the mistress of a coffee
house, to whom he owed about £8, arrested him
for the debt. He remained for some time at a
great expense, in the house of the sheriff's officer,
in hope of procuring bail ; which expense he
was enabled to defray by a present from Mr.
Nash at Bath. No bail, however, was to be
found; so that poor Savage was at last lodged
in Newgate, a prison in Bristol. But it was the
fortune of this extraordinary mortal always to
find more friends than lie deserved. The keeper
of the prison took compassion on him, and greatly
softened the rigors of his confinement by every
kind of indulgence. While he remained here
his ingratitude again broke out, in a bitter satire
on the city of Bristol; to which he certainly
owed great obligations, notwithstanding his ar-
rest. This satire is entitled London and Bristol
delineated; and in it he abused the inhabitants
of the latter, with such a spirit of resentment,
that the reader would imagine he had never re-
ceived any other than the worst of treatment in
that city. In about six months after his arrest
he was seized with a disorder, which at first was
not suspected to be dangerous ; but, growing
daily more languid and dejected, at last a fever
seized him ; and he died on the 1st of August
1743, in the forty-sixth year of his age. The
works of this original writer, after having long
lain dispersed in magazines and fugitive publica-
tions, were collected and published in an elegant
edition, in 2 vols. 8vo. ; to which are prefixed,
the admirable Memoirs of Savage, by Dr.
Samuel Johnson.
SAVAGE ISLAND, an island in the south Paci-
fic Ocean, about thirty-three miles in circumfer-
ence, discovered by captain Cook, in the year
1774. The name was given on account of the
rude behaviour of the inhabitants. Captain
Cook says the island is of a round -form, and
good height ; and has deep waters close to its
shores. All the sea coast, and as far inland as
he could see, was covered with trees, shrubs, &c.,
among which were some cocoa-nut trees. The
inhabitants seemed to be stout and well made.
They fish with lights by night, called tomais,
made from the bark of the cocoa-nut tree. They
form a decoy for fish. The island is .in long.
169° 37' W., and lat. 19° 1' S.
SAVAGISM, a word of modern adoption,
designed to express that ignorant and barbarous
state of mankind, which most ancient philoso-
phers, and some modern authors of eminence,
suppose to have been the original state of all man-
kind. A numerous sect of ancient philosophers
maintained that man literally sprung at first
from the earth ; that he was without ideas and
without speech ; and that many ages elapsed be-
fore the race acquired the use of language, or at-
tained to greater knowledge than the beasts.
O^er sects again, with the vulgar, and almost
alrthe poets, maintained that the h'rst mortals
were wiser and happier, and moie powerful,
than any of their offspring ; that mankind, in-
MI,U! of being originally garages, and rising to
S A V A G I S M.
329
the state of civilisation by their own gradual and
progressive exertions, were created in a high de-
gree of perfection ; that, however, they degene-
rated from that state, and that all nature degene-
rated with them. Hence the various ages of the
world have almost every where been compared
to gold, silver, brass, and iron, the golden having
always been supposed to be the first age. See
AGE.
Since the revival of letters in Europe, and es-
pecially during the last century, the same ques-
tion has been agitated both in France and the
England. Such of the ancients as held that man
was originally a savage were countenanced by
the atheistic cosmogony of the Phoenicians, and
by the early history of their own nations ; the mo-
derns build their system upon what they suppose
to be the constitution of the human mind, and
upon the late improvements in arts and sciences.
As the question must finally be decided by his-
torical evidence, before we make our appeal to
facts, we may remark, upon the supposition that
all mankind were originally savages, destitute of
the use of speech, and, in the strictest sense of
the words, mutum et turpe pecus, the great
difficulty is to conceive how they could emerge
from that state, and become at last enlightened
and civilised : but the modern advocates for the
universality of the savage state remove this
difficulty by a number of instincts or internal
senses, with which they suppose the human mind
endowed, and by which the savage is, without
reflection, not only enabled to distinguish be-
tween right and wrong, and prompted to do
every thing necessary to the preservation of his
existence and the continuance of the species, but
also led to the discovery of what will contribute,
in the first instance, to the ease and accommoda-
tions of life. These instincts, they think, brought
mankind together when the reasoning faculty,
which had hitherto been dormant, being now
roused by the collisions of society, made its ob-
servations upon the consequences of their differ-
ent actions, taught them to avoid such as expe-
rience showed to be pernicious, and to improve
upon those which they found beneficial ; and
thus was the progress of civilisation begun. But
this theory seems opposed by unanswerable ob-
jections.
In the preliminary discourse to Sketches of tfye
History of Man, lord Kames would infer, from
some facts which he states, that many pairs of
the human race were at first created, of very
different forms and natures, but all depending
entirely on their own natural talents. But to
this statement he rightly observes that the Mo-
saic account of the creation opposes objections.
' Whence then,' says his lordship, ' the degene-
racy of all men into the savage state ? To ac-
count for that dismal catastrophe, mankind must
have suffered some dreadful convulsion.' Now
this is taking for granted the very thing to be
proved. We deny that at any period since the
creation, all men were sunk into the state of
savages ; and, that they were, no proof has yet
•oeen brought, nor do we know of any that can
be brought, unless our fashionable philosophers
Choose to prop their theories by the buttress of
Sanchoniatho 9 Phoenician cosmogony. His
lordship, however, says, or rather supposes, that
the confusion at Babel, &c., was this dreadful
convulsion : For, says he, by confounding the
language of men, and scattering them abroad
upon the face of all the earth, they were rendered
savages. Here again we have a positive asser-
tion without the least shadow of proof; for it
does not at all appear that the confusion of lan-
guages, and the scattering abroad of the people,
was a circumstance such as could induce uni-
versal savagism. There is no reason to think
that all the men then alive were engaged in
building the tower of Babel ; nor does it appear
from the Hebrew original that the language of
those who were engaged in it was so much
changed as the reader is apt to infer from our
English version. That the builders were scat-
tered is indeed certain ; and if any of them were
driven, in very small tribes, to a great distance
from their brethren, they would in process of time
inevitably become savages. But it is evident, from
the Scripture account of the peopling of the
earth, that the descendants of Shem and Japheth
were not scattered over the face of all the earth,
and that therefore they could not be rendered
savage by the catastrophe at Babel. In the
chapter which relates that wonderful event the
generations of Shem are given in orders down to
Abraham ; but there is no indication that they
had suffered with the builders of the tower, or
that any of them had degenerated into the state
of savages. On the contrary, they appear to have
possessed a considerable degree of knowledge ;
and if any credit be due to the tradition which
represents the father of Abraham as a statuary
and himself as skilled in the science of astro-
nomy, they must have been far advanced in the
arts of refinement. Even such of the posterity
of Ham as either emigrated or were driven frorr.
the plain of Shinar in large bodies, so far from
sinking into savagism, retained all the acquire-
ments of their antediluvian ancestors, and be-
came afterwards the instructors of the Greeks and
Romans. This is evident from the history of
the Egyptians and other eastern nations, who in
the days of Abraham were powerful and highly
civilised. And that for many ages they did not
degenerate into barbarism is apparent from its
having been thought to exalt the character of
Moses, that he was learned in all the wisdom of
the Egyptians, and from the wisdom of Solomon
having been said to excel all the wisdom of the
east country and of Egypt. Thus decided are
the Scriptures of the Old Testament against the
universal prevalence of savagism in that period
of the world ; nor are the most authentic Pagan
writers of antiquity of a different opinion. Mo-
chus the Phoenician (Strabo, lib. 17), Democri-
tus, and Epicurus, appear to be the first champions
of the savage state, and they are followed by a
mumerous body of poets and rhapsodists, among
the Greeks and Romans, who were unquestion-
ably devoted to fable and fiction. The account
which they have given of the origin of man, the
reader will find in other parts of this work. But
we hardly think that he will employ it in support
of the fashionable doctrine of original savagism.
Against the wild reveries of this school might
be quoted all the leaders of the other sects,
330
S A V A G I S M.
Greeks and barbarians ; the philosophers of both
academies, the sages of the Italian and Alexan-
drian schools ; the magi of Persia ; the brahmins
of India, and the druids of Gaul, &c. The
testimonies of the early historians among all the
ancient nations, indeed, who are avowedly fabu-
lists, is very little to be depended on, and has
been called in question by the most judicious
writers of Pagan antiquity. (See Plutarch Vita
Thes. sub. init. ; Thucyd. 1. i. cap. 1 ; Strabo,
1. xi. p. 507 ; Livy Pref. ; and Varro ap. August.
de Civ. Dei.) The more populous and extensive
kingdoms and societies were civilised at a period
prior to the records of profane history ; the pre-
sumption, therefore, without taking revelation
into the account, certainly is, that they were civi-
lised from the beginning. This is rendered fur-
ther probable from other circumstances. To
account for their system, the advocates of sava-
gism are obliged to hare recourse to numerous
suppositions. They imagine that since the crea-
tion dreadful convulsions have happened, which
have spread ruin and devastation over the earth,
which have destroyed learning and the arts, and
brought on savagism by one sudden blow. But
this is reasoning at random, and without a ves-
tige of probability ; for the only convulsion that
can be mentioned is that of Babel, which we
have already shown to be inadequate.
It may be farther argued, that it does not ap-
pear that any people that were once civilised,
and in process of time had degenerated into the
savage or barbarous state, have ever recovered
their pristine condition with foreign aid. Whence
we conclude that man, once a savage, would
never have raised himself from that hopeless
state. This appeaVs evident from the history of
the world ; for that it requires strong incitements
to keep man in a high state of knowledge and
civilisation is evident from what we know of the
numerous nations which were famed in antiquity,
but which are now degenerated in an astonishing
degree. That man cannot, or, which is the same
thing, has not risen from barbarism to civilisation
and science by his own efforts and natural talents,
appears further from the following facts : — The
rudiments of all the learning, religion, laws, arts,
and sciences, and other improvements that have
enlightened Europe, a great part of Asia, and the
northern coast of Affica, were so many rays di-
verging from two points, on the banks of the
Euphrates and the Nile. In proportion as na-
tions receded from these two sources of huma-
nity and civilisation, in the same proportion
were they more and more immersed in ignorance
and barbarism. The Greeks had made no pro-
gress towards civilisation, when the Titans first,
and afterwards colonies from Egypt and Phe-
nicia, taught them the very elements of science
and urbanity. The aborigines of Italy wdre in
ihe same state prior to the arrival of the Pe-
lasgi, and the colonies from Arcadia and other
parts of Greece. Spain was indebted for the
fir^t seeds of improvement to the commercial
spirit of the Phoenicians. The Gauls, the
Britons, and the Germans, derived from the Ro-
mans all that in the early periods of their history
they knew of science, or the arts of civil life, and
so on of other nations in antiquity. The same
appears to be the case in modern times. The
countries which have been discovered by the
restless and inquisitive spirit of Europeans have
been generally found in the lowest stage of sava-
gism : from which, if they have emerged at all,
it has been exactly in proportion to their con-
nexion with the inhabitants of Europe. Even
Western Europe itself, when sunk in ignorance,
during the reign of monkery, did not recover by
the efforts of its own inhabitants. Had not the
Greeks, who in the fifteenth century took refuge
in Italy from the cruelty of the Turks, brought
with them their ancient books, and taught the
Italians to read them, we, who are disputing
about the origin of the savage state, and the in-
nate powers of the human mind, had at this day
been gross and ignorant savages ourselves, inca-
pable of reasoning with accuracy upon any sub-
ject. That we have now advanced far before
our masters is readily admitted; for the human
mind, when put on the right track, and spurred
on by emulation and other incitements, is
capable of making great improvements ; but be-
tween improving science, and emerging from
savagism, every one perceives there is an immense
difference. Lork Kames observes that the people
who inhabit a grateful soil, where the necessaries
of life are easily procured, are the first who in-
vent useful and ingenious arts, and the first who
figure in the exercises of the mind. But the
Egyptians and Chaldeans, who are thought to
support this remark, appear from what we have
seen to have derived their knowledge from their
antediluvian progenitors, and not from any ad-
vantages of situation or strength of genius. Be-
sides, the inhabitants of a great part of Africa,
of North and South America, and of many of
the islands lately discovered, live in regions
equally fertile, and equally productive of the
necessaries of life, with the regions of Chaldea and
Egypt ; yet these people have been savages
from time immemorial, and continue still in the
same state. The Athenians, on the other hand,
inhabited the most barren and ungrateful re-
gion of Greece, while their acquirements in the
arts and sciences have rarely been excelled. The
Norwegian colony which settled in Iceland about
the beginning of the eighth century inhabited a
most bleak and barren soil, and yet the fine arts
were eagerly cultivated in that dreary region,
when the rest of Europe was sunk in ignorance
and barbarism. Again, there are many parts of
Africa, and of North and South America, where
the soil is neither so luxuriant as to beget indo-
lence, nor so barren and ungrateful as to depress
the spirits by labor and poverty ; where, notwith-
standing, the inhabitants still continue in an un-
cultured state. From all which, and from
numerous other instances which our limits per-
mit us not to bring forward, we infer that some
external influence is necessary to impel savages
towards civilisation; and that in the history of
the world, or the nature of the thing, we find no
instance of any people emerging from barbarism
by the progressive efforts of their own genius.
On the contrary, as we find in societies highly
cultivated and luxurious a strong tendency to
degenerate, so in savages we not only find no
inaik of tendency to improvement, but rather a
SAV
331
SAV
rooted aversion to it. Among them, indeed, the
social appetite never reaches beyond their own
horde. It is, therefore, too weak and too con-
lined to dispose them to unite in large commu-
nities; and of course, had all mankind been
once in the savage state, they never could have
arrived at any considerable degree of civilisation.
Instead of trusting to any such natural progress
as is contended for, the providence of Heaven,
in pity to the human race, appears, at different
times, and in different countries, to have raised
up some persons endowed with superior talents,
who, having themselves acquired some knowledge
in nations already civilised by useful inventions,
legislation, religious institutions, and moral ar-
rangements, sowed the first seeds of civilisation
among the hordes of wandering disunited barba-
rians. Thus we find the Chinese look up to their
Fohee, the Indians to the Brahma, the Persians
to Zoroaster, the Chaldeans to Cannes, the
Egyptians to Thoth, the Phoenicians to Meli-
certa, the Scandinavians to Odin, the Italians to
Janus, Saturn, and Picus, and the Peruvians to
Manco. In later times, and almost within our
own view, we find the barbarous nations of
Russia reduced to the same order and civilisation
by the genius and exertions of Peter the Great.
The endeavours of succeeding monarchs have
powerfully contributed to the improvement of
this mighty empire. In many parts of it, how-
ever, we still find the inhabitants in a state very
little superior to savagism ; and, through the most
of it, the lower, and perhaps the middling orders,
appear to retain an almost invincible aversion to
further improvements. A fact which, when
added to numerous others of a similar nature
which occur in the history of the world, seems
to prove indisputably that there is no such
natural propensity to improvement in the human
mind as we are taught by some authors to believe.
The origin of savagism, if we allow mankind to
have been at first civilised, is easily accounted
for by natural means : the origin of civilisation,
if at any period the whole race were savages,
cannot, we think, be accounted for otherwise
than by a miracle, or a series of miracles. To
many persons in the present day the doctrines we
have now attempted to establish will appear
very humiliating : it is a popular kind of philo-
sophy to attribute to the human mind very pre-
eminent powers; which so flatter our pride as
in a great measure to pervert our reason, and
blind our judgment. The history of the world,
and of the dispensations of God to man, are
certainly at variance with this doctrine respecting
the origin of civilisation : for, if the human mind
be possessed of that innate vigor which that
doctrine attributes to it, it will be extremely
difficult to account for .those numerous facts
which seem with irresistible evidence to proclaim
the contrary ; for that unceasing care with which
the deity appears to have watched over us ; and
for those various and important revelations He has
vouchsafed to us. Let us rejoice and be thank-
ful that we are men and Christians ; but let not
a vain philosophy tempt us to imagine that we
are angels or gods.
SAVAN'-XA, w. s. Span, submi'ia. An open
meadow ; pasture ground.
He that rides posl through a country may tell how,
in general, the parts lie ; here a morass, and there a
river ; woodland in one part, and samnnut in another.
Locke.
Plains immens1.
And vast savannas, where the wandering eye,
Unfixed, is in a verdant ocean lost. Thomson.
SAVANNAH, a city and port of entry of the
United States, in Chatham county, Georgia, on
the south-west bank of the Savannah, seventeen
miles from its mouth. It is situated on a sandy
plain, about forty feet above low tide, and con-
tains a court-house, jail, alms-house, hospital,
theatre, public library, academy, exchange, three
banks, including a branch of the United States
bank, and seven houses of public worship, one
for Presbyterians, one for Episcopalians, one for
Lutherans, one for Methodists, one for Baptists,
one for Roman Catholics, and a Jewish syna-
gogue.
The academy is built of brick and stone, 180
feet by sixty, of three stories. The exchange is
a brick edifice of five stories. The new Presby-
terian church is a very spacious and elegant
edifice of stone. The city, a few years since, was
almost wholly built of wood, with very few ele-
gant houses ; but a large proportion of the houses
recently erected are handsomely built of brick.
Savannah has heretofore been accounted very un-
healthy during the summer and autumn, but the
salubrity of the place is now much improved,
by appropriating to a dry culture those lands in
its immediate vicinity which were formerly ap-
propriated to rice.
The city is regularly laid out, and contains
ten public squares, each consisting of two acres,
with a pump in the centre. The squares and
public walks are planted with china trees, which
contribute much to the ornament, comfort, and
salubrity of the place. Savannah is the great
emporium of the state, and is a place of much
trade. In six months, ending the 31st of March
1818, there were exported from it 61,797 bales
of cotton, 13,680 tierces of rice, and 1500 hogs-
heads of tobacco. The shipping owned here, in
1816, amounted to 12,766 tons. Vessels draw-
ing fourteen feet of water come up to the wharfs ;
larger vessels take in their cargoes at Five Fathom
Hole, three miles below the town. On the east
side of the city is Fort Wayne ; at Five Fathom
Hole is Fort Jackson ; and on Tybee Island,
near the mouth of the river, there is a light-house.
118 miles south-west of Charlestown, and 123
south-east of Augusta.
SAVANNAH, a river of the United States, which
is formed by the union of the Tugeloo and Keo-
wee. It separates South Carolina from Georgia,
and runs south-east into the Atlantic. It is navi-
gable for large vessels to the town of Savannah,
seventeen miles, and for boats of 100 feet keel to
Augusta, which, by the course of the river, is
340 miles above Savannah. Just above Augusta
there are falls ; beyond these the river is navig-
able for boats to the junction of the Tugeloo and
Keowee.
SAVARY (James), an eminent French writer
on trade, was born at Done, in Anjou, in 1622.
He continued in trade until 1658, and was after-
wards admitted of the council for the reforma-
SAV
332
SAU
tkm of commerce ; and the orders which passed
in 1670 were drawn up by his instructions and
advice. He wrote Le Parfait Negociant, 4to. ;
and Avis et Conseils sur les plus Importantes
Matieres du Commerce, 4to. He died in 1690;
and out of seventeen children, whom he had by
one wife, left eleven.
SAVARY (James and Philemon Lewis), two of
the sons of the preceding, labored jointly on a
Dictionnaire Universelle du Commerce, 2 vols.
folio. This work was begun by James, who was
inspector -general of the manufactures at the cus-
tom-house, Paris ; who called in the assistance
of his brother Philemon-Lewis, a canon of the
royal church of St. Maur, and at his death left
him to finish it. This work appeared in 1723,
and Philemon afterwards added a third supple-
mental volume to the former.
SAVARY, an eminent French traveller and
writer, born at Vitry, in Britanny, about 1748.
He studied with applause at Rennes, and, in
1776, travelled into Egypt, where he remained
about three years. During this period he was
engaged in the study of the Arabian languages,
in searching out ancient monuments, and in
examining the national manners. He next visited
the islands in the Archipelago, where he spent
eighteen months. On his return to France, in
1780, he published, 1. A Translation of the Ko-
ran with a short Life of Mahomet, 2 vols. 8vo. ;
2. The Morality of the Koran, or a collection of
the most excellent maxims in the Koran ; a work
extracted from his translation, which is esteemed
both elegant and faithful; 3. Letters on Egypt,
in 3 vols. 8vo., in 1785. In these the author
makes his observations with accuracy, and ren-
ders interesting every thing he relates ; but he is
censured for painting modern Egypt and its in-
habitants in too high colors. These letters, how-
ever, were rapidly sold ; and, encouraged by this
flattering reception, he prepared his Letters upon
Greece. But about this time he contracted a
malady from too intense application. His diges-
tion became languid ; sleep forsook him ; a dry
and troublesome cough came on ; his face ap-
peared bloated, and his legs inflamed. In this
situation he returned to Paris, in the beginning
of 1788, to attend to the publication of his new
work. He had then all the symptoms of a dan-
gerous dropsy. His strength was exhausted, and
he died on the 4th of February 1788.
SAUCE, n. t. & v. a. ) Fr. souse, saulse ;
SADCE'PAN. } Ital. salsa ; Lat. salt us.
Something eaten with food to improve it or give
a relish : to treat with sauce; hence to intermix :
a sauce-pan is properly a pan for cooking sauce.
The bitter sauce of the sport was that we had our
honours for ever lost, partly by our own faults, but
principally by his faulty using of our faults.
Sidney.
Then fell she to tauce her desires with threatenings.
Id.
All the delights of love, wherein wanton youth
walloweth, be but folly mixed with bitterness, and
sorrow untced with repentance. Spenter.
Epicurean cooks
Sharpen with cloyless tauce his appetite.
Slicksjvare.
ttuch was the sauce of Moab's noble feast,
Till night far spent invites 'hem to their rest.
Cow ley.
He thst spends his time in sports is like him
\vhosemeatisnothingbut sauces; they are health-
less, chargeable, and useless. Taylor.
Your master will not allow you a silver saucepan.
Swift.
High sauces and rich spices are fetched from the
Indies. Baker.
SAUCER, n. s. Fr. sauciere, or from sauce. A
small pan or platter in which sauce is set on the
table
Infuse a pugil of new violets seven times, and it
shall make the vinegar so fresh of the flower, as, if
brought in a saucer, you shall smell it before it come
at you. Bacon.
Some have mistaken blocks and posts
For spectres, apparitions, ghosts,
With saucer eyes and horns. Hudibras.
The SAUCISSE, or SAUCISSON, in mining, is
a long pipe, sometimes made of leather, of about
an inch and a half diameter, filled with powder,
going from the chamber of the mine to the en-
trance of the gallery. It is generally placed in a
wooden pipe called an auget, to prevent its
growing damp. It serves to give fire to mines,
bomb-chests, &c.
SAU'CY, adj. -\ Fr. solace; Lat. so/or.
SAUCE'BOX, n. s. fPert; petulant; rude;
SAU'CILY, adv. £ impertinent : the adverb
SAU'CINESS, n. s. * and noun-substantive cor-
responding : saucebox is an impertinent busy
fellow.
With how sweet saws she blamed their sauciness,
To feel the panting heart, which through her side
Did beat their hands. Sidney.
You are more taucy with lords than the heraldry
of your birth and virtue gives you commission.
Sliakspeare.
And if thou hast the mettle of a king,
Being wronged as we are by this peevish town,
Turn thou the mouth of thy artillery,
As we will our's against these MHCI/ walls. Id.
Though this knave came somewhat saucily into the
world before he was sent for, yet was his mother fair.
Id.
By his authority he remains here, which he thinks
is a patent for his sauciness. Id.
A freed servant, who had much power with Clau-
dius, very saucily had almost all the words ; and,
amongst other things, he asked in scorn one of the '
exammates, who was likewise a freed servant of Scri-
bonianus, I pray, sir, if Scribonianus had been em-
peror, what would you have done 1 He answered, I
would have stood behind his chair, and held my
peace. Bacon.
It is saucinets in a creature, in this case, to reply.
HnimhaU.
I lose my patience, when with saucy pride
By untuned ears I hear his numbers tried.
Rnscommon.
Power's first pedigree from force derives,
And calls to mind the old prerogatives
Of free-born man ; and with a saucy eye
Searches the heart and soul of majesty. Denham.
You saucinett, mind your pruning knife, or I may
use it for you. Dryden's Don Sebastian.
Imputing it to the natural aauciness of a pedant,
they made him eat his words. L' Estrange.
Homer, to express a man both timorous and saucy,
makes use of a kind of point, namely, that he had
the eyes of a dog, but the heart of a deer.
Addiion's Spectator.
The foolish old poet says that the souls of some
women are made of sea water : this has encouraged
my sanccboi to be witty upon me. /rf.
SAV
L533
SAV
A trumpet behaved himself very saucily. Addison.
This might make all other servants challenge the
same liberty, and grow pert upon their masters ; and,
when this sauciness became universal, what less mis-
chief could be expected than an old Scythian re-
bellion 1 Collier on Pride.
SAVE, v. «., v. n., & adv.*
SA'VER, n. s.
SA'VING, adj., adv., & n. s.
SA'VINGLY, adv.
SA'VIOUR, n. s.
French sauver ;
Lat. salvo. To
. make or keep
safe ; reserve ;
spare; salve;
embrace opportunely ; preserve from eternal
death ; to be chief: a saver or saviour is one
who preserves ; rescues ; keeps ; the Redeemer
of mankind : saving, frugal ; parsimonious ; and
as an adverb with exception in favor of : as a
noun-substantive an escape of expense ; excep-
tion : savingly agrees with saving as an adjective.
He shall not feel quietness, he shall not lave of
that which he desired. Job xx. 20.
One shall cry unto him, yet cannot he answer, nor
save him out of his troubles. f*a. xlvi. 7.
We are not of them who draw back unto perdition ;
but of them that believe to the saving of the soul.
Heb. x. 39.
They were manifoldly acknowledged the savers ot
that country. Sidney.
But being all defeated, save a few, '
Rather than fly, or be captived herself she slew.
Spenser.
All this world's glory seemeth vain.
And all their shows but shadows, saving me. Id.
Whatsoever we read in Scripture concerning the
endless love and saving mercy which God showeth
towards his church, the only proper subject thereof
is this church. Hooker.
There are some that will be saved, and some that
will be damned. Shakspeare.
All the conspirators, save only he,
Did that they did in envy of great Cssar. Id.
Brass ordnance saveth in the quantity of the mate-
r al, and in the charge of mounting and carriage.
Bacon.
He never put down a near servant, save only
Stanley, the lord chamberlain. Id. Henry VII.
It is a great saving in all such lights, if they can
be made as fair and light as others, and yet last
longer. Bacon.
By nature far from profusion, and yet a greater
sparer than a saver ; for though he had such means
to accumulate, yet his garrisons and his feastings
soaked his exchequer. Wotton.
His merits save them. Milton.
How build, unbuild, contrive
To save appearances : how gird the sphere
With centrick and eccentrick. Id.
How have I then with whom to hold converse,
Save with the creatures which I made? //.
So judged he man, both judge and Saviour sent. Id.
We may be confident whatever God does is in-
tended for our good, and whatever we interpret other-
wise we can get nothing by repining, nor save any
thing by resisting. Temple.
The circling streams, once thought but pools of
blood,
From dark oblivion Harvey's name shall save.
Dryden.
Will you not speak to save a lady's blush 1 Id.
Laws of arms permit each injured man
To make himself a saver where he can. Id,
Contend not with those that are too strong for us,
but still with a saving to honesty ; for integrity must
be supported against all violence. V [-'strange.
Saving the reverence due to so great a man, 1
doubt not but they did all creep out of their holes.
Ray on the Creation.
Silvio, finding his application unsuccessful, was
resolved to make a saving bargain ; and, since he
could not get the widow's estate, to recover what he
had laid out of his own. Addison.
By reducing interest to four per cent, there was a
considerable saving to the nation. Id.
However consonant to reason his precepts ap-
peared, nothing could have tempted men to acknow-
ledge him as their God and Saviour, but their being
firmly persuaded of the miracles he wrought. Id.
He who feareth God, and worketh righteousness,
and perseveres in the faith and duties of our religion,
shall certainly be saved. Rogers.
She loved money ; for she was saving, and applied
her fortune to pay John's clamorous debts.
Arbuthnot's History of John Bull.
They meanly pilfer, as they bravely fought,
Now save a nation, and now nave a groat. Pope.
The same persons, who were chief confidents to
Cromwell, foreseeing a restoration, seized the castles,
in Ireland, just saving the tide, and putting in a stock
of merit sufficient. Swift.
Who dares affirm this is no pious age,
When charity begins to tread the stage 1
When actors, who at best are hardly savers,
Will give a night of benefit to weavers? Id.
Be saving of your candle. - Id.
Will no superior genius snatch the quill,
And save me on the brink from writing ill 1 Young.
SAVE, a large river of Austrian Illyria, rising
about six miles to the south of Villach, and flow-
ing through a part of Styria and Croatia. After
leaving the latter, it separates Sclavonia from
Turkey, till it joins the Danube, between Semlin
and Belgrade. Its course is at first winding ; and
it frequently overflows its banks. It is, however,
of great importance to the trade of all the coun-
tries through which it passes, and is the medium
by which the corn and tobacco of the Bannat
and neighbouring provinces are interchanged.
SAVENDROOG, a celebrated but unhealthy
fortress of the Mysore, Hindostan. It is situated
on the summit of an immense rock, half a mile
in perpendicular height, and surrounded by a
thick wood. It was considered by the natives
impregnable ; but was taken by storm, without
the loss of a man, by the British, in 1791. It
was used by Hyder Aly and Tippoo Sultan as a
state prison. Long. 77° 29' E., lat. 12° 56' N.
SA VERNE, a well built town in Alsace, de-
partment of the Lower Rhine. It is situated on
the Sarre, and has a castle, formerly the residence
of the bishops of Strasburg. Saverne has a great
trade in woollens, leather, hardware, pottery, and
tobacco, almost all manufactured in the town ;
and the surrounding country is productive in
wine. The town contains a college, an hospital,
and 6000 inhabitants. Twenty-two miles W.N.W.
of Strasburgh.
SAVILE (Sir George), afterwards marquis of
Halifax, was born about 1630; and, some time
after his return from his travels, was created ?
peer, in consideration of his own and his father'5
merits. He was a strenuous opposer of the bill
of exclusion ; but proposed such limitations of
the duke of York's authority as should disable
him from doing any harm either in church or
state, as the taking out of his hands all power in
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SAV
ecclesiastical matters, the disposal of the public
money, and the power of making peace and war;
and lodging these in the two houses of parlia-
ment. After that bill was rejected in the house
of lords, he pressed them, though without suc-
cess, to proceed to the limitation of the duke's
power ; and began by moving that, during the
king's life, he might be obliged to live 500 miles
out of England. In August 1682 he was created
a marquis, and soon after made lord privy-seal.
Upon king James's accession he was made presi-
dent of the council ; but, on his refusal to con-
sent to the repeal of the test, he was dismissed
from all public employments. In that assembly
of the lords which met after king James's with-
drawing himself the first time from Whitehall,
he was chosen president ; and upon the king's re-
turn from Feversham he was sent, with the earl
of Shrewsbury and lord Delamere, from the
prince of Orange, to order his majesty to quit
the palace at Whitehall. In the convention-
parliament he was chosen speaker of the house
of lords, and strenuously supported the motion
for the vacancy of the throne, and the conjunc-
tive sovereignty of the prince and princess ; upon
whose accession he was again made privy -seal.
Yet, in 1689, he quitted the court, and became
a zealous opposer of the measures of government
till his death, in April 1695. He wrote, The
Anatomy of an Equivalent ; a Letter to a Dis-
senter; a Rough Draught of a new Model at
Sea ; and Maxims of State ; all in one volume
8vo. He also published the character of king
Charles II., 8vo. ; the Character of Bishop Bur-
net, and Historical Observations upon the Reigns
of Edward I., II., III., and Richard II., with
Remarks upon their faithful Counsellors and
false Favorites.
SAVILE, or SAVILLE (Sir Henry), was born at
Bradley, near Halifax, in Yorkshire, in 1549.
He was entered of Merlon College, Oxford in
1561, where he took the degrees in arts, and was
chosen fellow. When he proceeded M. A., in
1570, he read for that degree on the Almagest of
Ptolemy. In 1578 he travelled into France and
other countries ; and at his return was made tutor
in the Greek to queen Elizabeth, who had a great
esteem for him. In 158.5 he was made warden
of Merton College, which he governed thirty-
six years with great honor, and fmproved it by
all the means in his power. In 1596 he was
chosen provost of Eton College. In 1619 he
founded in the university of Oxford two profes-
sorships in geometry and in astronomy ; which
he endowed with a salary of £160 a-year be-
sides a legacy of £600 to purchase more lands
for the same use. He also furnished a library
with mathematical books, near the mathematical
school, for the use of his professors ; and gave
£100 to the mathematical chest of his own ap-
pointing : adding afterwards a legacy of £40 a-
year to the same chest, to the university, and to
his professors jointly. He likewise gave £120
towards the new building of the schools, besides
several rare MSS. and printed books to the Bod-
leian library ; and a quantity of Greek types to
the printing-press at Oxford. After a life spent in
the encouragement of science and literature in
general, he died at Eton College the 19th of
February, 1622, in the seventy-third year of his
age, and was buried in the chapel. The highest
encomiums are bestowed on him by all the
learned of his time : by Casaubon, Alercerus,
Meibomius, Joseph Scaliger, and bishop Mon-
tague ; who in his Diatribae upon Selden's His-
tory of Tythes, styles him, 'that magazine of
learning, whose memory shall be honorable
amongst not only the learned, but the righteous'
forever.' His publications are, 1. Four Books
of the Histories of Cornelius Tacitus, and the
Life of Agricola; with Notes upon them, in
folio, dedicated to queen Elizabeth in 1581. 2. A
View of certain Military Matters, orCommmen-
taries concerning Roman Warfare, 1598. 3.
Rerum Anglicarum Scriptores Post Bedam, &c.
1596. 4. The Works of St. Chrysostom, in
Greek, in 8 vols. folio, 1613. Several editions
of this work were afterwards published in Paris.
5. In 1618 he published a Latin Work, written
by Thomas Bradwardin, archbishop of Canter-
bury, against Pelagius, entitled De Causa Dei
contra Pelagium, et de Virtute Causarum ; to
which he prefixed the life of Bradwardin. 6.
'In 1621 he published a collection of his own
Mathematical Lectures on Euclid's Elements, in
4to. — 7. Oratio Coram Elizabetha Regina, Ox-
oniae Habita, anno 1592. Oxford 1658, 4to.
8. He translated into Latin King James's Apology
for the Oath of Allegiance. He also left several
MSS. behind him, written by order of king
James ; all which are in the Bodleian library.
Four of his letters to Camden are published by
Smith, among Camden's Letters, 1691, 4to.
SAVIN, in botany. See JUNIPERUS.
SAVIOUR, ORDER OF ST., a religious order of
the Romish church, founded by St. Bridget,
about the year 1445, and so called from its being
pretended that our Saviour himself declared its
constitution and rules to the foundress. It is
principally founded for religious women, who
pay a particular honor to the holy virgin ; but
there are some monks of the order, to adminis-
ter the sacrament and spiritual assistance to the
SAUL, Heb. blKBT, i.e. asked, the son of
Kish, a rich man of Gibeah, of the tribe of
Benjamin, the first king of Israel. Saul's fruit-
less journey seeking his father's asses ; his meet-
ing with the prophet Samuel ; the interesting
particulars foretold to him, with his anointing as
king, about A. A. C. 1095, or A. M. 2909 ; his
prophesying with the young prophets ; his ap-
pointment by the lot ; his modesty in hiding
himself; his first victory over the Amorites;
his rash sacrifice in the absence of Samuel; his
equally rash curse ; his victories over the Philis-
tines and Amalekites ; his sparing of king Agag,
with the judgment pronounced against him for
it ; his jealousy and persecution of David ; his
barbarous massacre of the priests and people of
Nob; his repeated confessions of his injustice to
David ; his consultation of the witch of En-dor ;
with his defeat and suicide, are recorded in
1 Sam. ix — xxxi. He reigned forty years, and
died A. M. 2949
SAUMUR, a central town of France, in
Anjou, situated on the southern bank of the
Loire, over which it has two bridges, the one
SAU
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SAU
from the northern bank to an island in the mid-
dle, and the other from the island to the southern
bank. The former was much injured in the re-
volutionary war; but the latter, consisting of
twelve elliptical arches, each of sixty feet span,
is still one of the finest structures of the kind in
France. The principal street, built on a line
with this bridge, contains the theatre, and various
other elegant buildings. The castle, situated on
an eminence which commands the town, is a very
ancient building, and is used as a depot for mi-
litary stores. The cavalry barracks are spacious
and handsome, and the town contains several
squares and Roman and Celtic antiquities. Its
chief attraction, however, is the beauty of the
surrounding scenery. Saumur was formerly forti-
fied, and has long been noted for Protestantism.
In the time of Henry IV. the governor of this
part of France, Duplessis Mornay, founded here
a Protestant academy, much resorted to during
the seventeenth century. It has manufactures of
linen, woollens, leather, and some trade in wine
and brandy. Saumur was the birthplace of
madame Dacier. The road to Tours is along
the banks of the Loire, on the great mound
called the Leve. Twenty-seven miles south-east
of Angers, and thirty-eight W. S. W. of Tours.
SAUNDERS, in botany and dyeing. See
PTEROCARPUS SANTALUM.
SAUNDERSON (Dr. Robert), an eminent
preacher, born at Rotherham in Yorkshire, in
1587. He attended the grammar-school at Ro-
therham, where he made such rapid proficiency
that at thirteen he was sent to Lincoln College,
Oxford. In 1608 he was appointed logic reader.
He took orders in 1611, and was promoted suc-
cessively to several benefices. Archbishop Laud
recommended him to king Charles I. as a pro-
found casuist, who appointed him one of his
chaplains in 1631. The king regularly attended
his sermons, and said that 'he carried his ears to
hear others, but his conscience to hear Saunder-
son.' In 1642 Charles created him regius pro-
fessor of divinity at Oxford and canon of Christ
Church; but in 1648 he was ejected by the
visitors from the parliament. When the parlia-
ment proposed the abolition of the episcopal
form of church-government, Charles desired him
to take the subject under his consideration. He
accordingly wrote a treatise entitled Episcopacy
as Established by law in England not Prejudicial
to Regal Power. At the request of the celebrated
Boyle, who sent him a present of £50, Saunder-
son published his book De Conscientia. On the
restoration of Charles II. he recovered his pro-
fessor^hip and canonry, and soon after was made
bishop of Lincoln. During the two years and a
half in which he possessed this new office, he
spent a considerable sum in augmenting poor
vicarages, in repairing the palace at Bugden, &c.
He died January 29th, 1663, in his seventy-
sixth year. 1. In 1615 he published Logicae
Artis Compendium, which was the system of
lectures he had read in the University. 2. Ser-
mons, amounting to thirty-six, printed in 1681,
folio, with the author's life by Walton. 3. Nine
Cases of Conscience Resolved ; 1678, 8vo. 4.
De Juramenti Obligatione. This book was
translated into English by Charles I. while a
prisoner in the Isle of Wight, and printed in
London in 1665, 8vo. 5. De Obligatione Con-
scientiae. 6. Censure of Mr. Antony Ascham,
and of his book of the Confusions and Revolu-
tions of Government. 7. Pax Ecclesiee, con-
cerning Predestination, or the Five Points. 8.
Two Discourses in Defence of Archbishop
Usher's Writings.
SACNDERSON (Dr. Nicolas), born at Thurlstone
in Yorkshire in 1682, lost his sight by the
small-pox before he was a year old. But never,
theless he was initiated into the Greek and Ro-
man authors at a free school at Penniston
After spending some years studying the lan-
guages, his father, who was in the excise, began
to teach him arithmetic. He soon surpassed his
father ; and made long and difficult calculations
without any sensible marks to assist his memory.
At eighteen he was taught the principles of Al-
gebra and geometry by Richard West, esq., of
Undoorbank, who, though a gentleman of fortune,
yet, being strongly attached to mathematical
learning, undertook his education. Saunderson
was also assisted in his mathematical studies by
Dr. Nettleton. These two gentlemen read books
to him and explained them. Some of his friends,
who had remarked his perspicuous manner of
communicating his ideas, proposed that he should
attend the university of Cambridge as a teacher
of mathematics. This proposal was immediately
put in execution ; and he was conducted to
Cambridge, in his twenty-fifth year, by Mr. Joshua
Dunn, a fellow-commoner of Christ's College.
The subject of his lectures was the Principia
Mathematica, the Optics, and Arithmetica Uni-
versalis of Sir Isaac Newton, and he was attended
by a very numerous audience. When Whiston
was removed from his professorship, Saunderson
was universally allowed to be the man best qua-
lified for the succession. The heads of the uni-
versity applied to their chancellor, the duke of
Somerset, who procured the royal mandate to
confer upon him the degree of A. M. He was
then elected Lucasian professor of mathematics
in November 1711. He now devoted his whole
time to his lectures. When George II., in 1728,
visited the university of Cambridge, he ex-
pressed a desire to see professor Saunderson.
He waited upon his majesty in the senate house,
and was there, by the king's command, created
LL.D. He was admitted F.R.S. in 1736.
He was naturally of a vigorous constitution ; but
his sedentary life at length rendered him scor-
butic. He died on the 19th of April, 1739, aged
fifty-seven. He wrote a system of algebra, which
was published in 2 vols. 4to. at London, after
his death in 1740, at the expense of the Uni-
versity. Dr. Saunderson invented for his own
use a Palpable Arithmetic ; that is, a method
of performing operations in arithmetic solely by
the sense of touch. In the cabinet of medals, at
Cambridge, he could single out the Roman
medals with the utmost correctness ; he could
Iso perceive the slightest variation in the atmos-
phere. When he walked, he knew when he
passed by a tree, a wall, or a house. He made
these distinctions from the different way his face
was affected by the motion of the air. In his
youth he had been a performer on the flute ; and
SAV
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made such proficiency, that, if he had cultivated
his talents in this way, he would probably have
been as eminent in music as he was in mathe-
matics. He recognised not only his friends, but
even those with whom he was slightly acquainted,
by the tone of their voice.
SAUNTER, v. n. Fr. alter a la salute terre.
from idle people who roved about the country,
and asked charity under pretence of going to the
holy land ; or sans terre, having no settled
home. To wander about idly ; loiter ; longer.
Tell me, why tauniering thus from place to place
I meet thee, Naevolus. with clouded face ? Dryden.
The cormorant is still iauj\tering by the sea-side,
to see if he can find any of his brass cast up.
L'Ettrange.
Though putting the mind upon an unusual stress
that may discourage, ought to be avoided ; yet this
must not run it into a lazy sauntering about ordinary
things. Lock*.
So the young squire, when first he comes
From country school to Will's or Tom's,
Without one notion of his own,
He MMntert wildly up and down. Prior.
Here tauntering apprentices O'IT Otway weep. Gay.
The brainless stripling
Spells uncouth Latin, and pretends to Greek ;
A taitnteriny tribe ! such born to wide estates,
With yea and no in senates hold debates. Tkkel.
Led by my hand, he taitntered Europe round,
And gathered every vice in every ground. Dunciad.
SAVONA, at one time a place of great trade
in the north-west of Italy, was, in 1648, half de-
stroyed by an explosion of 1000 barrels of gun-
powder, which had been deposited in the citadel.
Since then it has suffered both from pestilence
and war. The principal articles of trade are
silk, wool, and fruit ; and heavy iron ware, such
as ships' anchors. Savona was the birth-place of
popes Sixtus IV. and Julius II. Columbus was
for some time a resident here. In 1745 sixteen
French and Spanish vessels, laden with military
stores, and lying in the harbour, were sunk by
the bombs of a British squadron. In 1746 the
king of Sardinia took the town; and in 181U
and 1811 pope Pius VII. resided here some
time during his dispute with Buonaparte. In-
habitants 10,000. Twenty miles W.S.W. of
Genoa, and sixty north-east of Nice.
SAVONAROLA (Jerome), a celebrated Ita-
lian monk, born at Ferrara in 1452, and de-
scended from a noble family. At the age of
twenty-two he assumed the habit of a Dominican
friar, without the knowledge of his parents, and
distinguished himself in that order by his piety
and ability as a preacher at Florence. He placed
himself at the head of the faction which opposed
the family of the Medici. He explained the
Apocalypse, and pointed out a prophesy which
foretold the destruction of his opponents. He
predicted a renovation of the church, and de-
claimed with much severity against the clergy
and the court of Rome. Alexander VI. excom-
municated him, and prohibited him from preach-
ing. He derided the anathemas of the pope ;
yet he forbore preaching for some time, and then
resumed his employment with more applause
than ever. The pope and the Medici family
then thought of attacking him with his own wea-
pons. Savonarola having posted up a thesis as
a subject of disputation, a Franciscan, by their
instigation, offered to prove it heretical. The
Franciscan was seconded by his brother friars,
and Savonarola by his brethren. To convince
their antagonists of the superior sanctity of Savo-
narola, one of the Dominicans offered to walk
through a fire : and, to prove his w ickedness, a
Franciscan agreed to the same experiment. The
multitude, eager to witness so extraordinary a
spectacle, urged both parties to come to a deci-
sion; and the magistrates were constrained to
give their consent. Accordingly, Saturday the
7th of April, 1498, was fixed for the trial. On
that day the champions appeared ; but when they
saw one another in cold blood, and beheld the
wood in flames, they were anxious to escape the
imminent danger into which they had rashly
thrown themselves. The Dominican pretended
he could not enter the flames without the host
in his hand. This the magistrates refused to
allow; and the Dominican's fortitude was not
put to the test. The Franciscans incited the
multitude against their opponents, who accord-
ingly assaulted their monastery, broke open the
gates, and entered by force. Upon this, the
magistrates brought Savonarola to trial as an
impostor. He was put to the torture, and ex-
amined ; and in the answers which he gave
fully evinced that he was a fanatic. He boasted
of having frequent conversations with God ; and
his brother friars were credulous enough to be-
lieve him. John Francis Picus, earl of Miran-
dula, who wrote his life, assures us that the devils
which infested the convent of the Dominicans
trembled at the sight of fiiar Jerome. At length
pope Alexander VI. sent the chief of the Domi-
nicans, with bishop Romolino, to degrade him
from holy orders, and to deliver him up to the
secular judges with his two fanatical associates.
They were condemned to be hanged and burned
on the 23d of May, 1498. Savonarola submitted
to the execution of the sentence with ereat firm-
ness and devotion, and without uttering a word
respecting his innocence or his guilt. He was
forty-six years of age. Immediately after his
death, his Confession was published in his name.
It contained many extravagancies, but nothing
to deserve so horrid a punishment. His adhe-
rents did not fail to attribute to him the power
of working miracles ; and so strong a veneration
had they for their chief that they preserved with
pious care any parts of his body which they
could snatch from the flames. The earl of Mi-
randula, the author of his life, has described him
as an eminent saint. He gravely informs us
that his heart was found in a river; and that he
had a piece of it in his possession, which had
been very useful in curing diseases, and ejecting
demons. Savonarola has also been defended by
F. Quetif, Bzovius, Baron, and other religious
Dominicans. He wrote a prodigious number
of books. He has left, 1. Sermons in Italian:
2. A treatise entitled Triumphus (Jrucis ; 3.
Eruditorum Confessorum ; and several others.
His works have been published at Leyden in b
vols. 12mo.
SA'VOR, n.s., v.n. & v. a.-\ Fr. sai-fur.
^A'VORII.Y, adv. f Ascent ; odor;
SA'VOR ix ESS, «• s. £ taste: to have
SA'VORY, tidj. ) a particular
taste; betoken: to like; relish; the adverb,
SAV
337
SAU
noun-substantive, and adjective corresponding.
Savoury meat, such as my father loveth. Genesis.
Thou savourest not the things that be of God.
Matthew.
What tavour is better, if physick be true,
For places infected, than wormwood and rue ?
Tusser.
This ripping of ancestors is very pleasing, and sa-
roureth of good conceit and some reading.
Spenser on Ireland.
Wisdom and goodness to the vile seem vile ;
Filths savour but themselves. Sliakspeare.
The duke's answers to his appeachments are very
diligently and civilly couched ; and, though his heart
was big, yet they all savour of an humble spirit.
Wotton.
Benzo calls its smell a tartareous and hellish sa-
vour. Abbot.
If 'twere a secret that concerned my life,
This boldness might become thee ;
But such unnecessary rudeness savours
Of some design. Denham's Sophy.
That savours only of rancour and pride. Milton.
The pleasant savoury smell
So quickened appetite, that I
Could not but taste ! Milton's Paradise Lost.
That Jews stink naturally, that is, that there is
in their race an evil savour, is a received opinion we
know not how to admit. Browne's Vulgar Errours.
This mufti is some English renegado, he talks so
favourilu of toaping. Drydf.ns Don Sebastian.
The collation he fell to very s<ivourily. L' Estrange.
A director influence from the sun gives fruit a
better savour and a greater worth. Smith.
I have rejected every thing that savours of party.
Addisim.
Truffles, which have an excellent oil, and a vola-
tile salt of a grateful savour, are heating.
Arbuthnot on Diet.
SAVOY, a duchy of the north-west part of
the continental states of Sardinia, extending from
lat. 45° 8' to 46° 28' N. It is bounded on the
vest by France, on the east by Piedmont. Its
form is oblong, its length from north to south
being ninety-four miles, its general breadth be-
tween sixty and seventy. Its superficial extent
is about 3800 square miles ; its population about
450,000.
The scenery of Savoy, less remarkable for
beauty than for grandeur, produces in the mind
of the spectator feelings of awe, and even terror.
From the bleak tops of the mountains the view
is infinitely diversified: the bottom of the valley
is strewed with cottapes, fields, and vineyards ;
verdant pastures extend along the base, and
through a considerable part of the ascent : here
succeed forests, often of great length ; while the
summit is crowned with snow and ice. Savoy is
the region of Mount Blanc, Mount St. Bernard,
Mount Cenis, Mount Iseran, Mount Valaison,
and Mount Toumet, all connected, forming the
stupendous barrier between Savoy and Piedmont.
The roads are often impassable for carriages,
and burdens are generally carried on the backs
of horses or mules. Wheat, barley, oats, rye,
and hemp, are produced in the valleys : and the
pasturage enables the agriculturists to send num-
bers of fine cattle into Piedmont and the Mila-
nese. The exports are chiefly raw produce, such
as cheese, butter, hemp, tanned skins, and wool.
The transit trade between France and Italy is
earned on chiefly by the new road across Mount
VOL. XLV "
Cenis : the manufactures are confined to a few
coarse linens, tanning, hardware, pottery, and a
little paper.
The Savoyards have a brown complexion, from
their frequent exposure to the air, and live chiefly
in the country ; for except Chambery, their ca-
pital, there is no town of 5000 inhabitants. From
the simplicity of their manners, and their fru-
gality and sobiiety, they have, by some writers,
been compared to the Germans, as described by
Tacitus. An uninstructed, they are at the same
time an uncorrupted people. The language in
common use is a mixture of French and Italian.
The Savoyards quit their native mountains, in
the same way as the Welsh or the Scottish High-
landers, and are remarked for pursuing a va-
riety of petty callings. ' The Savoyards,' says
Mr. Galette, a late observer, ' are good-natured,
gentle, plain in their manners, simple in their
affection, faithful, and honest. Improvidence
is a striking feature in their national character,
and is as strong in the nobleman as the peasant.
They are always in debt ; and I really shoul-
not think it possible to name three persons among
a hundred, taken at random, whose property
would; be free from incumbrance. They are un-
thinkingly liberal and generous ; yet they cannot
bring themselves to pay what they owe ! If you
happen to have a claim for £5 on a Savoyard,
he will, very probably, spend £100 in giving
you and your whole family a hearty hospitable
reception, for months, but the poor £5 will not
be forthcoming after all. The laws, with respect
to debtors, are the worst in Europe ; they are
framed in such a manner as effectually to pre-
vent strangers from lending pecuniary assistance
to the natives, even on the best landed security.'
On the whole, this country is very far behind
the rest of Europe, and seems to belong to ano-
ther century, or to another quarter of the globe.
Savoy (derived from the Latin Sabaudia) was
the country of a well known tribe of Celtic ori-
gin, the Allobroges, who were subjugated in the
reign of Augustus. Their country formed a part
of the great province of Gallia Narbonensis,
and remained in possession of the Romans during
several centuries ; a length of possession which
accounts for the numerous remains of Roman
antiquities found in different parts. After various
changes, it was erected, in the beginning of the
eleventh century, into a county. In the fif-
teenth century it became a dukedom, and had a
large accession of power in the acquisition of
Piedmont. The ducal family, as we have seen
in the article SARDINIA, acquired the royal title
in 1719, and with it nearly its present domi-
nions.
SAVOY, in botany. See BRASSICA.
SAURIN (James), a celebrated preacher, born
at Nismes in 1677, and the son of a Protestant
lawyer of eminence. He applied to his studies
with great success ; but at length he relinquished
them for the profession of arms. In 1694 he
made a campaign as a cadet in lord Galloway's
company, and soon afterwards obtained a pair
of colors in the regiment of colonel Renault,
which served in Piedmont. But, the duke of Sa-
voy having made peace with France, he returned
to Geneva, and resumed the study of philosophy
Z
SAU
338
SAU
and theology, under Turretin and other profes-
sors. In 1700 he visited Holland, then came
to England, where he remained for several years,
and married. In 1705 he returned to the Hague,
where he fixed his residence, and preached with
the most unbounded applause. His sermons,
especially those published during his life, are
distinguished for justness of thought, and an ele-
gant unaffected style. Saurin died on the 30th
of December, 1730, aged fifty-three. He wrote
1. Sermons, in 12 vols. 8vo. and 12mo. 2. Dis-
courses Historical, Critical, and Moral, on the
most memorable Events of the Old and New
Testament. This is his greatest and most valua-
ble work. It was printed first in 2 vols. folio.
Beausobre and Roques undertook a continuation
of it, and increased it to 4 vols. 3. The State of
Christianity in France, 1725, 8vo. 4. An Abridg-
ment of Christian Theology and Morality, in the
form of a Catechism, 1722, 8vo. He after-
wards published an abridgment of this work. 5.
His Dissertation on the Expediency of some-
times disguising the Truth raised a multitude of
enemies against him. In this discourse his plan
was to state the arguments of those who affirm
that, in certain cases, it is lawful to disguise
truth, and the answers of those who maintained
the contrary. He does not determine the ques-
tion, but seems, however, to incline to the first
opinion. He was immediately attacked by seve-
ral adversaries, and a long controversy ensued ;
but his doctrines and opinions were at length
publicly approved of by the synods of Campen
and of the Hague.
SAURIN (Joseph), a geometrician of the Aca-
demy of Sciences at Paris, born at Courtouson,
in the principality of Orange, in 1659. His fa-
ther, who was a minister at Grenoble, was his
first preceptor. He made rapid progress in his
studies, and was admitted minister of Eure, in
Dauphiny, when very young ; but, having made
use of some violent expressions in one of his ser-
mons, he was obliged to quit France in 1683.
He retired to Geneva, and thence to Berne,
where he obtained a considerable living; but
soon after repaired to Holland. He returned
afterwards to France, and surrendered himself
lo Bossuet bishop of Meaux, who obliged him to
make a recantation of his errors. He was favor-
ably received by Louis XIV., obtained a pension
from him, and was treated by the Academy of
Sciences with the most flattering respect. At
that time (1717) geometry formed his principal
occupation. He adorned the Journal des Sea-
vans with many excellent treatises ; and he added
to the Memoirs of the Academy many interesting
papers. These are the only works which he has
left. He died in Paris December 29th, 1737,
in his seventy-eighth year, of a fever.
SAUROMAT^E. See S ARM AT*.
SAURURUS, in botany, lizard's tail, a genus
of the tetragynia order and heptandria class of
plants ; natural order second, piperitae : CAL. a
catkin, with uniflorous scales: COR. none; ger-
mina four and four monospermous berries.
SAUSSURE (Horace Benedict), de, was born
in Geneva in 1740. His earliest passion was
botany : his father was a scientific agriculturalist ;
and a variegated soil, abundant in plants of dif-
ferent kinds, invites the inhabitant of the banks
of the Leman to cultivate that agreeable science.
This taste produced an intimacy between De
Saussure and the great Haller. De Saussure
was induced also to study the vegetable kingdom,
by his connexion with Ch. Bonnet, who had
married his aunt, and who soon set a just value
on the rising talents of his nephew. Bonnet
was then employed on the leaves of plants. De
Saussure studied these organs of vegetables also,
and he published the result of his researches,
under the title of Observations on the Bark of
Leaves. This small work, which appeared soon
after 1760, contains new observations on the
epidermis of leaves, and in particular on the
miliary glands by which they are covered. About
that period, the place of professor of philosophy
falling vacant, it was conferred upon De Saus-
sure, who was then only twenty-one years of age.
At that time the two professors of philosophy
at Geneva taught physics and logic alternately.
De Saussure discharged this double task with
equal success. For physics, however, he had
the greatest taste, and they conducted him to the
study of chemistry and mineralogy. He then
began his travels through the mountains ; not now
to examine their vegetable productions, but to
study their geological character. During the
first fifteen or twenty years of his professorship
he employed himself by turns in discharging the
duties of his office, and in traversing the different
Alpine ranges near Geneva. He even extended
his excursions on one side as far as the banks of
the Rhine, and on the other to Piedmont. At
the same time he undertook a journey to Au-
vergne, to examine there the extinguished vol-
canoes, and another to Paris, England, and Hol-
land. After that he visited Italy and Sicily.
In 1779 he published the first volume of his
Travels through the Alps; which contains a
minute description of the environs of Geneva,
and an excursion as far as Chamouni, a village
at the bottom of Mont Blanc. Amidst his nu-
merous excursions through the Alps, and at the
time of the political troubles of Geneva in 1782,
he made his experiments on hygrornetry, which
he published in 1783, under the title of Essays
on Hygrornetry. In 1786 De Saussure resigned
the professor's chair, which he had filled for
about twenty-five years, to his pupil and fellow-
laborer Pictet. The second volume of his Tra-
vels was published in 1786. It contains a de-
scription of the Alps around Mont Blanc, and
also some interesting experiments on electricity,
and a description of his electrometer. Some
years after the publication of the second volume
of his Travels, he was admitted as a foreign as-
sociate of the Academy of Sciences of Paris. De
Saussure was the founder of the Genevese So-
ciety of Arts, over which he presided till thelast
moment of his life ; and one of his fondest wishes
was the preservation of this useful establishment.
By his fatiguing labors in the council of Five
Hundred, of which he was a member, and after-
wards in the National assembly, his health, how
ever began to be deranged, and in 1794 he was
almost deprived of the use of his limbs by a stroke
of the palsy. But his mind still preserved its
activity; and after that accident he revised the
SAW
339
SAW
two last volumes of his Travels, which appeared
in-1796. They contain an account of his excur-
sions to the mountains of Piedmont and Switzer-
land, and in particular of his journey to the sum-
mit of Mont Blanc. It was also during his illness
that he directed the experiments made on the
height of the bed of the Arve, and that he pub-
lished Observations on the Fusibility of Stones
by the Blow-pipe, which were inserted in the
Journal de Physique. Having gone for the sake
of his health to the baths of Plombiers, he still ob-
served the mountains at a distance, and caused
to be brought to him specimens of the strata
which he perceived in the steepest rocks. He had
announced that he would conclude his travels
with some ideas on the primitive state of the
earth ; but the more he acquired new facts, and
the more he meditated on the subject, the more
uncertain did his opinions become in regard to
those grand revolutions which preceded the pre-
sent epoch. Though the state of his health be-
gan gradually to become worse, the French
government appointed him professor of philoso-
phy at the Special School of Paris; but his
strength was exhausted. On the 22d of March,
1799, he terminated his brilliant career at the
age of fifty-nine. Saussure was not only the au-
thor of many Essays, and Papers, relating to
natural history, but displayed his ingenuity by
the construction of a thermometer for measuring
the temperature of water at various depths, of a
hygrometer, to determine the quantity of aqueous
vapor in the air, of a eudiometer to ascertain
the purity of the atmosphere, of an electrometer,
mi anemometer, and other philosophical instru-
ments. He had a most extensive correspondence
\\ ith men of science.
SAVU, an island in the eastern seas, described
by Cook as twenty miles in length ; in the mid-
dle are hills of a considerable height. It is re-
presented both by captain Cook and by M.
Labillarde as presenting an enchanting prospect
from the sea. ' The principal trees of this island,'
says our great navigator, ' are the fan-paim, the
cocoa-nut, tamarind, limes, oranges, and man-
goes ; and other vegetable productions are maize,
Guinea-corn, rice, millet, calevances, and water-
melons. We saw also one sugar-cane, and a
few kinds of European garden stuff, particularly
celery, marjoram, fennel, and garlic. For the
supply of luxury, it has betel, areca, tobacco,
cotton, indigo, and a small quantity of cinnamon,
which seems to be planted here only for curiosity.
There are, however, several kinds of fruit besides
those which have been already mentioned. The
tame animals are buffaloes, sheep, goats, hogs,
fowls, pigeons, horses, asses, dogs, and cats ;
and of all these there is great plenty. The sheep
are of the kind which in England are called
Bengal sheep, and differ from ours in many par-
ticulars. The fowls are chiefly of the game
breed, and large, but the eggs are remarkably
small. Of the fish which the sea produces here
we know but little : turtles are sometimes found
upon the coast, and are by these people, as well
as all others, considered as a dainty. The people
are rather under than above the middling size ;
the women especially are remarkably short, and
squat built ; their complexion is a dark brown,
and their hair universally black and lank. The
men are in general well made, vigorous, and
active, and have a greater variety in the make and
disposition of their features than usual; the
countenances of the women are, on the contrary,
all alike. The men fasten their hair up to the
top of their heads with a comb ; the women tie
it behind in a club, which is very far from be-
coming. Both sexes eradicate the hair from
under the arm, and the men do the same with
their beards, for which purpose the better sort
always carry a pair of silver pincers, hanging by
a string round their necks ; some, however,
suffer a very little hair to remain upon their up-
per lips ; but this is always kept short. The
dress of both sexes consists of cotton cloth, which
being dyed blue in the yarn, and not uniformly
of the same shade, is in clouds or waves of that
color, and even in our eye had not an inelegant
appearance. This cloth they manufacture them-
selves; and two pieces, each about two yards
long and a yard and a half wide, make a dress.
Almost all the men had their names traced upon
their arms in indelible characters of a black
color ; and the women had a square ornament of
flourished lines impressed in the same manner,
just under the bend of the elbow. The houses of
Savu are all built upon the same plan, and differ
only in size, being large in proportion to the rank
and riches of the proprietor. Some are 400 feet
long, and some are not more than twenty ; they are
all raised upon posts or piles about four feet high.
When the natives of this island were first
formed into a civil society is not certainly known,
but at present it is divided into five principali-
ties or nigrees : Laai, Seba, Regecua, Timo, and
Massara, each of which is governed by its re-
spective rajah or king. The religion of these
people, according to Mr. Lange's information, is
an absurd kind of Paganism, every mau choos-
ing his own god, and determining for himself
how he should be worshipped, so that there are
almost as many gods and modes of worship as
there are people. In their morals, however, they
are said to be irreproachable.' Long. 122° 30'
E., lat. 10° 35' S.
SAUVAGES (Francis Boissier), de, an emi-
nent French physician, born in 1706. His abili-
ties procured him the professorships of medicine
and botany in the university of Montpellier. His
works are very numerous. The principal are,
1. Theoria Febris, 1738, 12mo. : 2. Nosologi.i
Methodica; 5 vols. 8vo. 1763: 3. Physiologiae
Mechanics Elementa; 1755, 12mo.
SAUVAGESIA, in botany, a genus of the
monogynia order, and pentandria class of plants :
COR. pentapetalous and fringed : CAL. pentaphyl-
lous ; the nectarium the same, having its leaves
placed alternately with the petals : CAPS, unilo-
cular. Species one ; a West Indian plant.
SAW, n. s. Sax. raja; Belg. saeghe ; Goth.
saga. A saying ; maxim ; proverb.
Good king, that must approve the common saw :
Thou out of Heaven's benediction comest
To the warm sun ! Shafcspeare. King Lear.
His weapons, holy saws of sacret writ Shaktpeare.
Strict age and sour severity,
With their grave saws in slumber lie. Milton.
Z 2
340
SAWING.
SAW, n. f. & v. a. -\ Sax. rz%z, or pje, of
SAW'DUST, n. s. J Goth.sega,to cut; Fr. scie.
SAW'PIT, \A dentated instrument
SAW WREST, i which cuts by attrition:
SAWYER. J to use such an instru-
ment : saw-dust is the dust it makes : saw-pit,
a pit for the sawing of timber : saw -wrest an in-
strument used in sharpening saws : sawyer, a
man whose trade is to saw timber.
They were stoned, they were tawn asunder.
Hebrew*.
A carpenter after he hath sawn down a tree, and
wrought it handsomely, sets it in a wall.
Wild. xiii. 11.
Let them from forth a sawpit rush at once
With some diffused frong. Shakspeare.
The roach is a leather mouthed fish, and has »aw-
like teeth in his throat. Walton'* Angler.
It is an incalescency, from a swift motion, such as
that of running, threshing, or tawing.
Kay on the Creation.
Then saws were toothed, and sounding axes made.
Dryden.
Rotten sawdust, mixed with earth, enriches it very
much. Mortimer's Husbandry.
They colour it by laying it in a tawpit that hath
oak tawduit therein. Id.
With the saw-wrest they set the teeth of the saw ;
that is, they put one of the notches of the wrest be-
tween the first two teeth on the blade of the saw, and
then turn the handle horizontally a little about upon
the notch towards the end of the saw ; and that at
once turns the first tooth somewhat towards you,
and the second tooth from you.
Moxon's Mechanical Exercise.
The pit-saw is used by joiners, when what they
have to do may be as soon done at home as send it
to the sawyers. Id.
If I cut my finger, I shall as certainly feel pain
as if my soul was co-extended with the limb, and
had a piece of it saum through. Collier.
If the membrane be fouled by the taivilust of the
bone, wipe it off with a sponge. Wiicman.
If they cannot cut,
His taws are toothless, and his hatchets lead. Pope.
SAWING. This is practically regarded ns a
distinct business from the trades, in which the
saw is not only a'very useful, but necesary im-
plement, snch as those of the carpenter, cabinet-
maker, cooper, &c. The saw is an instrument
which serves to cut into pieces several solid
matters; as wood, stone, ivory, &c. The best
saws are of tempered steel, ground bright and
smooth ; those of iron are only hammer-har-
dened; hence the first, besides their being stiffer,
are likewise found smoother. They are known
1o be well hammered by the stiff bending of the
blade ; and to be well and evenly ground by their
bending equally in a bow. The edge in which
are the teeth is always thicker than the back, be-
cause the back is to follow the edge. The teeth
are cut and sharpened with a triangular file, the
blade of the saw being first fixed in a whetting-
bloclt. After they have been filed, the teeth are
set, that is, turned out of the right line, that they
may make the kerf or fissure the wider, that the
back may follow the better. The teeth are al-
ways set ranker for coarse cheap stuff than for
hard and fine, because the ranker the teeth are
set the more stuff is lost in the kerf. The saws
by which marble and other stones are cut have
no teeth : these are generally very large, and are
stretched out and held even by a frame. The
lapidaries, too, have their saw, as well as the
workmen in mosaic; but of all mechanics none
have so many saws as the joiners ; the chief are,
1. The pit-saw, which is a large two-handed
saw, used to saw timber in pits ; this is chiefly
used by the sawyers. 2. The whip-saw, which
is also two-handed, used in sawing such large
pieces of stuff as the hand-saw will not easily
reach. 3. The hand-saw, which is made for a
single man's use, of which there are various
kinds ; as the bow, or frame saw, which is fur-
nished with cheeks : by the twisted cords which
pass from the upper parts of these cheeks, and
the tongue in the middle of them, the upper
ends are drawn closer together, and the lower
set further apart. 4. The tennon saw, which,
being very thin, has a back to keep it from bend-
ing. 5. The compas^ saw, which is very small,
and its teeth usually not set; its use is to cut a
round, or any other compass kerf : hence the
edge is made broad, and the back thin, that it
may have a compass to turn in.
The surgeons use a saw to cut off bones : this
should be very small and light, in order to be
managed with the greater ease and freedom, the
blade exceedingly fine, and the teeth exquisitely
sharpened, to make its way more gently, and yet
with great expedition.
Saws are now generally used by butchers in se-
parating the bones of the meat : the divisions by
the saw are neater than those by the chopper, and
there is a certain saving, as the chopper splinters
bones, the parts of which cannot be included in
the weight.
The pit-saw is that which is chiefly used in
the employment properly denominated sawing.
The teeth are set rank for coarse work, so as to
make a fissure of about a quarter of an inch.
To perform the work, the timber is laid on a
frame over an oblong pit, called the saw-pit; and
it is cut by means of a long saw fastened in a
frame, which is worked up and down by two
men, the one standing on the wood to be cut, and
the other in the pit. As they proceed in their
work they drive wedges, at proper distances from
the saw, to keep the fissure open, which enables
the saw to move with freedom. This, though a
profitable, is a very laborious employment, and
hence have been introduced saw-mills, which,
in different countries, are worked by different
means, as by men, by horses, by water, by wind,
or by steam.
A saw-mill, worked by men, consists of several
parallel saws, which are made to rise and fall
perpendicularly by means of mechanical motion.
In this case a very few hands are necessary to
carry on the operation, to push forward the
pieces of timber, which are either laid on rollers,
or suspended by ropes, in proportion as the
sawing advances. We shall, however, give a
more detailed account of the saw-mills as used
in various parts of the world. The history of
the invention of sawing is curious, and may be
inserted.
In early periods of society the trunks of trees
were split with wedges, into as many, and a?
thin pieces as possible ; and if it was necessary
SAWING.
341
to have them still thinner they were hewn, by
some sharp instrument, on both sides, to die
proper size. This simple but wasteful manner
of making boards has been still continued in some
places, to the present time. Peter the Great, of
Russia, endeavoured to put a stop to it, by for-
bidding hewn deals to be transported on the
river Neva. The wood-splitters perform their
work more expeditiously than sawyers, and split
timber is much stronger than that which has
been sawn ; for the fissure follows the grain of
the wood, and leaves it whole ; whereas the saw,
which proceeds in the line chalked out for it,
divides the fibres, and by these means lessens
its cohesion and strength. Split timber, indeed,
turns out often crooked and warped ; but, in
many purposes to which it is applied, this is by
no means prejudicial ; and the fault may some-
times be amended. As the fibres, however, re-
tain their natural strength and direction, thin
boards particularly can be bent much better.
This is a great advantage in making pipe-staves,
and in forming various implements of the like
kind.
Our common saw, which needs only to be
guided by the hand of the workman, however
simple it may be, was not known to the inhabit-
ants of America when they were subdued by the
Europeans. The inventor of this instrument has,
by the Greeks, been inserted in their mythology,
with a place among those whom they have
honored as the greatest benefactors of the earliest
ages. By some he is called Talus, and by others
Perdix. Pliny ascribes the invention to Daeda-
lus, but Hardouin, in the passage where he does
SK>, reads Talus rather than Daedalus. Diodorus
Nculus, Apollodorus, and others, name the in-
ventor Talus. He was the son of Daedalus's
sister; and was, by his mother, placed under
the tuition of her brother, to be instructed in his
art. Having, it is said, once found the jaw-bone
of a snake, he employed it to cut through a
small piece of wood ; and, by these means, was
induced to form a like instrument of iron, that
is, a saw. This invention, which greatly facili-
tates labor, excited the envy of his master, and
instigated him to put Talus to death privatdy.
\V e are told that, being asked, when he was
burying the body, what he was depositing in the
earth, he replied, ' A serpent.' This suspicious
answer discovered the murder ; and thus, adds
the historian, a snake was the cause of the inven-
tion, of the murder, and of its being found out.
The saws of the Grecian carpenters had the
same form, and were made in the like ingenious
manner as ours are at present. This is fully
shown by a painting still preserved among the
antiquities of Herculaneum. Two genii are re-
presented at the end of a bench, which consists of a
long table that rests upon two four-footed stools.
The piece of wood which is to be sawn through
is secured by cramps. The saw with which the
genii are at work has a perfect resemblance to
our frame saw. It consists of a square frame,
having in the middle a blade, the teeth of which
stand perpendicularly to the plane of the frame.
The piece of wood which is to be sawn extends
beyond the end of the bench, and one of the
workmen appears standing, and the other sitting
on the ground. The arms, in which the blade
is fastened, have the same form as that given to
them at present. In the bench are seen holes,
in which the cramps that hold the timber are
struck, and the ends of them reach below the
boards that form the top of it.
The most beneficial and ingenious improve-
ment of this instrument was, without doubt, the
invention of saw-mills ; which are now generally
driven either by steam, by water, or by the wind.
Mills of the first kind were erected so early as
the fourth century, in Germany, on the small
river Roeur or Raer, for though Ausonius speaks
of water-mills for cutting stone, and not timber,
it cannot be doubted that these were invented
later than mills for cutting out deals, or that both
kinds were erected at the same time. Pliny con-
jectures that the mill for cutting stone was in-
vented in Caria ; at least he knew no building
incrusted with marble of greater antiquity than
the palace of king Mausolus, at Halicarnassus.
This edifice is celebrated by Vitruvius for the
beauty of its marble ; and Pliny gives an account
of the kinds of sand used for cutting it ; for it is
the sand, he says, and not the saw, which pro-
duces that effect. The latter presses down the
former, and rubs it against the marble ; and the
coarser the sand is, the longer will be the time
required to polish the marble which has been cut
by it. Notwithstanding these facts there is no
account in any of the Greek or Roman writers
of a mill for sawing wood ; and, as the writers of
modern times speak of saw-mills as new and un-
common, it would seem that the oldest construc-
tion of them has been lost, or that some important
improvement has made them appear entirely
new. Becher says that saw-mills were invented
in the seventeenth century. In this he erred ; for
when settlers were conveyed to the island of Ma-
deira, which was discovered in 1420, saw-mills
were erected also, for the purpose of sawing into
planks the various species of excellent timber
with which the island abounded, and which were
afterwards transported to Portugal. About the
year 1427 the city of Breslau had a saw-mill,
which produced a yearly rent of three marks ;
and in 1490 the magistrates of Erfurt purchased
a forest, in which they caused a saw-mill to be
erected, and they rented another mill in the neigh-
bourhood besides. Norway, which is covered
with forests, had the first saw-mill about the year
1530. This mode of manufacturing timber was
called the new art ; and, because the exportation^
of deals was by these means increased, that cir- '
cumstance gave occasion to the deal-tithe, intro
duced by Christian III. in the year 1545. Soon
after the celebrated Henry Canzau caused the
first mill of this kind to be built in Holstein. In
1552 there was a saw-mill at Joachimsthal, which
as we are told, belonged to Jacob Geusen, ma-
thematician. In the year 1555 the bishop of
Ely, ambassador from Mary queen of England
to the court of Rome, having seen a saw-mill in
the neighbourhood of Lyons, the writer of his
travels thought it worthy of a particular descrip-
tion. In the sixteenth century, however, there
were mills with different saw-blades, by which a
plank could be cut into several deals at the same
time. The first saw-mill \>as erected in Holland.
34-J
SAWING.
at Saardam, in the year 1596; and the invention
of it is ascribed to Cornelius Cornelissen. Per-
haps he was the 6rst person who built a saw-
mill at that place, which is a village of great
trade, and has still a great many saw-mills,
though the number of them is becoming daily
less ; for within the last thirty years 100 have
been given up. The first mill of this kind in
Sweden was erected in the year 1653. At pre-
- ent that kingdom possesses the largest perhaps
ever constructed in Europe, where a water-wheel,
twelve feet broad, drives at the same time seven-
ty-two saws.
In England saw-mills had at first the same
lute that printing had in Turkey, the ribbon-
loom in the dominions of the church, and the
crane in Strasburg. When attempts were made
to introduce them they were violently opposed,
because it was apprehended that the sawyers
would be deprived by them of their means of
getting a subsistence. For this reason it was
found necessary to abandon a saw-mill erected
by a Dutchman near London, in 1663 ; and in
the year 1700, when one Houghton laid before
the nation the advantages of such a mill, he ex-
pressed his apprehension that it might excite the
rage of the populace. What he dreaded was
actually the case in 1767 or 1768, when an opu-
lent timber-merchant, by the desire and- approba-
tion of the Society of Arts, caused a saw-mill,
driven by wind, to be erected at Lamehouse, under
the direction of James Mansfield, who had
learned, in Holland and Norway, the art of con-
structing and managing machines of that kind.
A mob assembled and pulled the mill to pieces ;
but the damage was made good by the nation,
;iud some of the rioters were punished. A new
mill was afterwards erected, which was suffered
to work without any molestation, and which gave
occasion to the erection of others. It appears,
however, that this was not the only mill of the
kind then in Britain ; for one driven also by wind
had been built at Leith, in Scotland, some years
before.
Saw-mills, as they are now constructed, are of
two kinds, acccording as the saws employed af-
fect their operation by a circular or by a recipro-
cating motion. Circular saw-mills are the most
simple in their construction. At a manufactory
for hollow masts, on the Surrey side of Westmin-
ster bridge, are several of them. In one of the
simplest, a wheel is turned by a horse, which
gives motion to a pinion on a horizontal shaft ; a
spur-wheel is fixed on the shaft, and turns a pi- '
in on on another horizontal shaft, ou which a
wheel is fixed in the room above the machine,
and the bearings for the gudgeons of the shaft
are supported on the joists of the floor : by
means of an endless strap passing round this
wheel, and round a pulley on the spindle of the
Circular saw, a rapid motion is given to the saw :
it is fixed on a spindle by a shoulder, against
which it is held by another moveable shoulder
pressed tight by its nut, on the end of the spin-
dles which is tapped into a screw to receive it.
The saw has a circular hole through the middle
fitting tight upon the spindle, so as to cause them
to turn together. The ends of the spindle are
pointed, and that point nearest the saw works in
a hole made in the end of a screw, screwed in a
bench of stout planks, and well braced together;
the other turns in a similar screw passed through
a cross beam mortised between two vertical
beams extending from the floor to the ceiling :
one of the beams can be raised or lowered in its
mortises by wedges put both above and below its
tenons. In order to adjust the plane of the saw
to the plane of the bench, there is a long parallel
ruler, which can be set at any distance from the
saw, and fixed by means of screws going through
circular grooves cut through the bench. In using
the machine, the ruler is to be set the proper
distance from the saw of the piece of wood to be
cut, and as thp saw turns round, a workman
slides the end of a piece of wood to it, keeping,
its edge against the guide or ruler, that it may
cut straight. We have witnessed the operation,
which is as neat as it is expeditious and ingeni-
ous. When the saw requires sharpening, one of
the screws at the end of its spindle must he turn-
ed back : the spindle and saw can be then re-
moved, and may be fixed in a common vice to
whet it, in the same manner as a common saw ;
the outsides of the teeth are not filed to leave a
surface perpendicular to the plane of the saw, but
inclined to it, and in the same direction that
each tooth so filed is bent in the setting; by this
means, the saw, when cutting, first takes away
the wood at the two sides of the kerf, leaving a
ridge in the middle of it, the use of which is to
keep the saw steady in a right line, that it may
not have a tendency to get out of the straight
line in any place where the wood is harder at
one side than on the other. The most important
machinery of this kind that we have seen is, un-
questionably, at Portsmouth, for the manufac-
turing of ships' blocks.
The great cross-cutting mw may be thus des-
scribed. — The tree subjected to the action of this
machine is placed on a long frame or bench
raised a little from the floor, and at the end of it
is erected a frame, composed of vertical posts
and cross timber, in the manner of a small and
low door-way; through this frame the end ot
the tree is drawn by the capstan above-mentioned
its end projecting as much from the surface of
the frame as is intended to be cut off; and it i<
fastened in the frame from rolling sideways, by n.
lever, which can be readily made to press upon
it and hold it down. The saw itself is a straight
blade, fixed into a wooden handle or pole at
each end, to lengthen it ; one of these handles u
connected by a joint to the upper end of a lever,
bent like an L, and having its centre beneath the
floor : the horizontal arm of the lever is connect-
ed by a spear-rod, with a crank on the end of a
spindle near the ceiling of the room, the motion
of which is regulated by a fly-wheel. By this
means the saw has a.reciprocating motion from
right to left, nearly in a horizontal position, and
exactly across the log it is to cut oft, imitating
in its motion the carpenter's hand-saw, consider
ing his arm as the arm of the bent or L lever
The teeth of the saw are of course on the lower
side of the blade, and are sloped so as to cut iit
drawing towards the lever. It rises and falls
freely upon its joint at the end of the lever, and
can be lifted up hy the handle, at tin-
S A X E.
343
end of the blade, to take it off its work, which it
follows up by its own weight. The machine
being at rest is prepared for work, by fixing the
log in the frame as before mentioned, so that the
surface of the frame intersects the log at the
place where it is intended to be cross-cut. The
saw, which was before lifted up by its handle,
to be clear above the log, is now suffered to rest
upon it, in the place where the cut is to be
made ; and, to guide it at first setting in, the
back of the saw is received in a saw kerf, made
in the end of a piece of board, which is attached
to the frame over the saw, but slides up and
down in a groove to reach the saw at any height,
according to the thickness of the log lying be-
neath it. Being thus prepared, the machine is
put in action by a rope or strap which turns the
fly-wheel and its crank. This, giving a vibration
to the bent or L lever, causes the saw to recipro-
cate horizontally across the tree, until it cuts it
through : it follows up its cut by its own weight
alone, but the attendant can at any time lift up
the saw from its work, though its motion conti-
nues, by means of a rope which suspends the
handle of the saw, when required. As the saw
gets into the tree it quits the guide above-men-
tioned, which becomes the less necessary as the
saw goes deeper ; a saw having no tendency to
alter its first course, when cutting across the
grain of the wood. We admire the simplicity of
this machine, which nevertheless executes its
work with much accuracy and expedition. It
might be very usefully employed in many situa-
tions where great manual labor is spent in cross-
cutting large logs of timber.
The cross-cutting circular saw. — This machine
is for similar purposes, and stands close by the
former. It is a circular saw, whose spindle is so
mounted as to move in any direction parallel to
itself; the saw all the while continuing in the
same plane, and revolving rapidly upon its axis,
cuts the wood it is presented to, and as it admits
of being applied at first on one side, and then on
another side of the tree, a saw of moderate di-
mensions will be sufficient to divide larger trees
than could otherwise be done by it.
The great reciprocating saw for cutting up trees
lengthwise. — In this machine the saw works ver-
tically : it has an horizontal carriage, on which
the timber is fastened ; this passes through a
vertical frame with grooves, in which another
frame slides up and down in the manner of a
window-sash, and has the saw stretched in it.
The saw-frame is moved up and down by means
of a crank on an axis beneath the floor, which
is turned by means of an endless rope. At
every time the saw rises and falls, it turns a rat-
chet-wheel round, by means of a click, a few
teeth; and this has on its axis a pinion, working
a rack attached to the carriage of the tree, which
by this means is advanced : at every stroke, the
saw makes a proper quantity for another cut.
The saw-frame is adapted to hold several saws
parallel to each other, for sawing a tree into se-
veral boards at once, when required.
Saw-mills, for cutting blocks of stone, are
moved horizontally. When a completely cylin-
drical pillar is to be cut out of one block of
stone, ;he first thing will be to ascertain in the
block the position of the axis of the cylinder :
then lay the block so that such axis shall be
parallel to the horizon, and let a cylindrical
hole of from one to two inches diameter be
bored entirely through it. Let an iron bar,
whose diameter is rather less than that of this
tube, be put through it, having just room to slide
freely to and fro as occasion may require. Each
end of this bar should terminate in a screw, on
which a nut and frame may be fastened. The
nut-frame should carry three flat pieces of wood
or iron, each having a slit running along its mid-
dle nearly from one end to the other, and a
screw and handle must be adapted to each slit;
by these means the frame-work at each end of
the bar may readily be so adjusted as to form
equal isosceles or equilateral triangles; the iron
bar will connect two corresponding angles of
these triangles, the saw to be used two other
corresponding angles, and another bar of iron,
or of wood, the two remaining angles, to give
sufficient strength to the whole frame. This con-
struction, it is obvious, will enable the workmen
to place the saw at any proposed distance from
the hole drilled through the middle of the block ;
and then, by giving-the alternating motion to the
saw-frame, the cylinder may at length be cut
from the block, as required. This method was
first pointed out in the collection of machines
approred by the Paris academy. If it were pro-
prosed to saw a conic frustum from such a
block, then let two frames of wood or iron be
fixed to those parallel ends of the block which
are intended to coincide with the bases of the
frustum, circular grooves being previously cut in
these frames to correspond with the circumfer-
ences of the two ends of the proposed frustum ;
the saw being worked in these grooves will mani-
festly cut the conic surface from the block. This
is the contrivance of Sir George Wright.
The best method of drilling the hole through
the middle of the proposed cylinder seems to be
this: — On a carriage, running upon four low
wheels, let two vertical pieces (each having a
hole just large enough to admit the borer to play
freely) be fixed two or three feet asunder, and so
contrived that the pieces and holes to receive
the borer may, by screws, &c., be raised or low-
ered at pleasure, while the borer is prevented
from sliding to and fro by shoulders upon its
bar, which are larger than the holes in the verti-
cal pieces, and which, as the borer revolves,
press against those pieces. Let a part of the
boring-bar between the two vertical pieces be
square, and a grooved wheel with a square hole
of a suitable size be placed upon this part of the
bar ; then the rotatory motion may be given to
the bar by an endless band, which shall pass over
this grooved wheel and a wheel of a much larger
diameter in the same plane, the latter wheel
being turned by a winch handle in the usual way.
As the boring proceeds, the carriage with the
borer may be brought nearer the block, by levers
and weights, in the same manner as in pipe-
making.
SAXE (Maurice, count), was born in 1696.
He was the natural son of Frederick Augustus II.,
elector of Saxony, and king of Poland, and of
the countess of Konigsmarc, a Swedish lady,
344
S A X E.
celebrated for her wit and beauty. He was edu-
cated witli Frederick Augustus, the electoral
prince, afterwcii'iis King of Poland. He served
his first campaign in the army commanded by
prince Eugene and the duke of Marlborough,
when only twelve years old. He signalised him-
self at the sieges of Tournay and Mons, and
particularly at the battle of Malplaquet. During
the campaign of 1710 prince Eugene and the
duke of Marlborough paid many public enco-
miums to his merit. Next year the young count
accompanied the king of Poland to the sie-je
of Stralsund, the strongest place in Pomerania,
and displayed the greatest intrepidity. He swam
across the river in sight of the enemy, with a
pistol in his hand. His valor shone no less con-
spicuously on the bloody day of Gaedelbusck,
w'here he commanded a regiment of cavalry. He
had a horse killed under him, after he had three
times rallied his regiment, and led them on to
the charge. Soon after that campaign, his
mother prevailed on him to marry the countess of
Lubin, a lady both rich and beautiful. This
union lasted but a short time. In 1721 the
count procured a dissolution of the marriage ; a
step of which he afterwards repented. In 1717
' he went to Hungary, where the emperor had an
army of 15,000 men under prince Eugene.
Young count Saxe was present at the siege of
Belgrade, and at a battle which the prince gained
over the Turks. On his return to Poland, in
1718, he was made a knight of the golden eagle.
The wars in Europe being concluded by the
treaties of Utrecht and Possarowitz, count Saxe
went to France. He spent his time during the
peace, in studying mathematics, fortification, and
mechanics. At sixteen he invented a new exer-
cise, which was taught in Saxony with the
greatest success. Having obtained a regiment in
France, in 1722, he formed it according to his
new plan. In 1726 the states of Courland chose
him for their sovereign. But both Poland and
Russia rose in arms to oppose him. The czarina
wished to bestow the duchy on prince Menzikoff'.
MenzikofT sent 800 Russians to the new chosen
duke in his palace. Count Saxe, who had only
sixty men, defended himself with astonishing in-
trepidity. The siege was raised, and the Rus-
sians obliged to retreat. Soon after he retired
to Usmaiz, and prepared to defend his people
against the two hostile nations. Here he re-
mained with only 300 men, till the Russian
general approached at the head of 4000 to force
his retreat. That general invited the count to a
conference, during which he intended to surprise
him, and take him prisoner. The count, in-
formed of the plot, avoided the conference.
About this time he wrote to France for men and
money. Madame le Couvreur, a famous ac-
tress, pawned her jewels and plate, and sent him
40,000 livres. The count, unable to defend
himself against Russia and Poland, was obliged
in 1729 to leave his new dominions and retire
into France. Count Saxe, thus stript of his
territories, devoted himself to the study of ma-
thematics. He composed also, in thirteen nights,
and during the intervals of an ague, his Reve-
ries, which he corrected afterwards. The death
t'f the king of Poland his father, in 1733, kindled
a r ew war in Europe. His brother, the elector
of Saxony, offered him the command of al.
his> forces, but he preferred the French service,
and repaired to the duke of Berwick, who was
encamped on the Rhine. The count, at the head
of a regiment of grenadiers, forced the enemy's
lines, and by his bravery decided the victory.
He behaved at the siege of Philipsburg with
no less intrepidity. For these services he was, in
1734, rewarded with the rank of lieutenant-
general. Peace was concluded in 1736 ; but the
death of the emperor Charles VI. kindled a new
war. Prague was besieged by the count in 174 i
near the e«d of November, and taken by assault.
The conquest of Egra followed a few days after :
and Charles VII. wrote a congratulatory letter
to Saxe with IMS own hand, in 1744 he \vas
made marshal of France, and commanded a part
of the French army in Flanders. During that
campaign he displayed the greatest military
conduct. Though the enemy was superior in
number, he watched their motions so skilfully
that they could do nothing. In January 1745
an alliance was concluded at Warsovia, betwcei.
the queen of Hungary, the king of England,
and the states of Holland. He went soon after,
though exceedingly ill, to take the command of
the French army in the Low Countries. \Vher
the battle of Fontenoy was fought, M. Saxe was
at the point of death, yet he caused himself to be
put into a litter, and carried round all the posts.
During the action he mounted on horseback
though very weak. The victory of Fontenoy,
owing entirely to his vigilance and capacity, was
followed by the reduction of Tournay, Bruges,
Ghent, Oudenarde, Ostend, Ath, and Brussels :
this last city was taken on the 28th of February
1746 ; and very soon after the king sent to the
marshal a letter of naturalisation in the most
flattering terms. The succeeding campaigns
gained him additional honors. After the victory
of Raucoux, which he gained on the lltli of Octo-
ber 1746, the king of France made him a present
of six pieces of cannon. He was, on the 12tli of
January 1747, created marshal of all the French
armies, and, in 1748, commander-general of all
those parts of the Netherlands which he had con-
quered. Holland now began to tremble for her
safety. Maestricht and Bergen op Zoom had al-
ready fallen, and nothing but misfortunes seemed
to attend the further prosecution of the war. The
states general therefore offered terms of peace,
which were accepted, and a treaty concluded on
the 18th of October 1748. M. Saxe retired to
Chambord, a country seat which the king of
France had given him. Sometime after he went
to Berlin, and, on his return to France, he spent
his time among men of learning, artists, and phi-
losophers. He died of a fever, on the 30lh of
November 1750, aged fifty-four. His life had
been, he said, an excellent dream. He was re-
markably careful of the lives of his men. One
day a general officer was pointing out to him a
post which would have been of great use. It
will only cost you, says he, a dozen grenadiers.
That would do very well, replied the marshal,
were it only a dozen lieutenant-generals. He had
been educated and died in the Lutheran re-
ligion. His heart wa< put into a silver giitbox,
SAXONS.
34:
and Louis XV. was at the charge of his funeral.
His corpse was interred with great splendor in
the Lutheran church of St. Thomas, at Strasburg,
on the 8th of February, 1751. The best edition
of his Reveries was printed at Paris 1757, in 2
vols. 4to. It was compared with the originaf
MS. in the king's library. It is accompanied
with many designs exactly engraved, and a Life
of the Author. M. d'Espagnac published the
count's life, in 2 vols. 12mo.
SAXIFRAGA, saxifrage, in botany, a genus
of the digynia order and decandria class of
plants; natural order thirteenth, succulentas :
'•• \ L. cjuinquepartite : COR. pentapetalous : CAPS.
birostrated, umlocular, andpolyspermous. There
are thirty-eight species; of which the most re-
markable are these : —
1. S. granulata, or white saxifrage, which
^rows naturally in the meadows in many parts of
England. The roots of this plant are like grains
of corn, of a reddish color without ; from which
arise kidney-shaped hairy leaves, standing upon
pretty long foot-stalks. The stalks are thick, a
foot high, hairy, and furrowed ; these branch out
from the bottom, and have a few small leaves
like those below, which sit close to the stalk :
the flowers terminate the stalk, growing in small
clusters ; they have five white petals, enclosing
ten stamina and the two styles. There is a va-
riety of this with double flowers, which is very
ornamental.
2. S. oppositifolia grows naturally on the
Alps, Pyrenees, and Helvetian mountains: it is
also found pretty plentifully growing upon Ingle-
borough Hill in Yorkshire, Snowdon in Wales,
and some other places. It is a perennial plant,
with stalks trailing upon the ground, and are sel-
dom more than two inches long, garnished with
small oval leaves standing opposite, which lie
over one another like the scales of a fish : they
are of a brown-green color, and have a resem-
blance of heath. The flowers are produced at
the end of the branches, of a deep blue ; and tnus
make a pretty appearance during their continu-
ance, which is great part of March and the be-
ginning of April.
3. S. punctata, London pride, grows naturally
on the Alps, and also in great plenty on a moun-
tain of Ireland called Mangerton in the county
of Kerry. The roots of this are perennial ; the
leaves are oblong, oval, and placed circularly at
bottom. They have broad, flat, furrowed foot-
stalks, and are deeply crenated at their edges,
which are white. The stalk rises a foot high, is
of a purple color, stiff, slender, and hairy. It
sends out from the side on the upper part several
.short foot-stalks, which are terminated by white
flowers spotted with red.
4. S. pyramidata, mountain heath, with a py-
ramidal stalk, grows naturally on the mountains
of Italy. The leaves are tongue-shaped, gathered
into heads, rounded at their points, and have car-
tilaginous and sawed borders. The stalk rises
two feet and a half high, branching out near the
ground, forming a natural pyramid to the top.
The flowers have five white wedge-shaped
petals, and ten stamina, placed circularly the
length of the tube, terminated by roundish
purple summit?. When these plants are strong,
they produce very large pyramids of flowers,
which make a fine appearance. All these spe-
cies are easily propagated by offsets, or by part-
ing their roots.
SAXTFRAGE, n. s. ) Fr. saxifrage ; Lat.
SAXIFRA'GOUS, adj. } saxum and /range. A
plant : dissolvent of the stone. See below.
Saxifrage, quasi saxum frangere, to break the
stone, is applicable to any thing having this property ;
but it is a term most commonly given to a plant,
from an opinion of its medicinal virtues to this effect.
Quincy.
Because goat's blood was found an excellent me-
dicine for the stone, it might be conceived to be able
to break a diamond ; and so it came to be ordered
that the goats should be fed on saxifragout herbs,
and such as are conceived of power to break the
stone. Browne's Vulgar Errours.
SAXO GRAMMATICUS, descended from an il-
lustrious Danish family, was born about the
middle of the twelfth century. Stephen, in his
edition of Saxo Grammaticus, printed at Soroe,
asserts that he must have been alive in 1156, but
cannot ascertain the exact place and time of his
birth. On account of his learning, Saxo was
distinguished by the name of Grammaticus.
He was provost of the cathedral church of
Roskild, and warmly patronised by the learned
and warlike Absolon, the celebrated archbishop
of Lunden, at whose instigation he wrote the
History of Denmark. His epitaph, a dry pane-
gyric in bad Latin verses, gives no account of the
era of his death, which happened, according to
Stephens, in 1204. His history, consisting of
sixteen books, begins from the earliest accounts o
the Danish annals, and concludes with the yeat
1 186. The first part, which relates to the origin
of the Danes, and their ancient kings, is full of
fables; but the last eight books, and particularly
those which regard the events of his own times
deserve the utmost credit. He wrote in Latin :
the style, if we consider the barbarous age in
which he flourished, is, in general, elegant.
Mallet, in his Histoire de Dannemarc, vol. i. p
182, says that Sperling, a writer of great erudi-
tion, has proved, in contradiction to the asser-
tions of Stephens and others, that Saxo Gram-
maticus was secretary to Absolon ; and that the
Saxo, provost of Roskild, was another person,
and lived earlier.
SAXONS, the natives of Saxony, ancient and
modern. The ancient Saxons were a brave but
fierce people. The Britons, or inhabitants of
South Britain, being deserted by the Romans,
about the middle of the fifth century, and
threatened with utter extirpation by the Scots
and Picts, invited the Saxons over from Germany
to assist and defend them ; in consequence of
which a numerous body of them came over
under Hengist and Horsa, A. D. 449 or 450 ;
and, repeated emigrations of fresh adventurers
successively arriving afterwards, they soon con-
quered and divided all South Britain, since
called England, into seven kingdoms, commonly
denominated the Saxon heptarchy. 'See ENG-
LAND. With regard to the history of the Saxons,
previous to the fourth century, we have very few
particulars. ' The Saxons,' says Mr. Whitaker,
' have been derived by our historians from very
346
SAXONS.
different parts of the globe ; India, the north of
Asia, and the forests of Germany. And their
appellation has been equally referred to very dif-
ferent causes ; the name of their Indian progeni-
tor, the plundering disposition of their Asiatic
fathers, and the short hooked weapons of their
warriors.' But the real origin of the Saxons, and
the genuine derivation of their name, seem clearly
to be these: — In the earlier period of the Gallic
history, the Celtae of Gaul crossed the Rhine in
considerable numbers, and planted various colo-
nies in the regions beyond it. Thus the Volcae
Tectosages settled on one side of the Hercynian
forest and about the banks of the Neckar ; the
Helvetii upon another, and about the Rhine
and Maine ; the Boii beyond both ; and the Se-
nones in the heart of Germany. Thus also we
see the Treviri, the Nervii, the Suevi, and the
Marcomanni, the Quadi, the Venedi, and others
in that country ; all plainly betrayed to be Gallic
nations by the Gallic appellations which they
bear, and all together possessing the greatest part
of it. And, even as late as the conclusion of the
first century, we find one nation on the eastern
side of this great continent actually speaking the
language of Gaul, and another upon the northern
using a dialect nearly related to the British.
But as all the various tribes of the Germans are
considered by Strabo to be ytvr\aioi ToXarat, or
genuine Gauls in their origin ; so those particu-
% larly, who lived immediately beyond the Rhine,
and are asserted by Tacitus to be indubitably
native Germans, are expressly denominated ToXa-
TCU, or Gauls, by Diodorus, and as expressly de-
clared by Dio to have been distinguished by the
equivalent appellation of Celts from the earliest
period. And the broad line of nations, which
extended along the ocean, and reached to the
borders of Scythia, was all known to the learned
in the days of Diodorus by the same significant
appellation of TaXarot, or Gauls. Of these, the
most noted were the Si-Cambri and Cimbri;
the former being seated near the channel of the
Rhine, and the latter inhabiting the peninsula of
Jutland. The denominations of both declare their
original, and show them to have been derived
from the common stock of the Celtae, and to be
of the same Celtic kindred with the Cimbri of our
own Somersetshire, and theCymbri or Cambrians
of our own Wales. The Cimbri are accordingly
denominated Celtae by Strabo and Appian : and
they are equally asserted to be Gauls by Diodo-
rus; to be the descendants of that nation which
sacked the cily of Rome, plundered the temple
of Delphi, and subdued a great part of Europe
and some of Asia. Immediately to the south of
these were the Saxons, extending from'the isthmus
of the Chersonesus to the current of the Elbe ;
and they were equally Celtic in their origin as
their neighbours. They were denominated Am-
brones, as well as Saxons ; and, as such, are in-
cluded by Tacitus under the general appellation
of Cimbri, and comprehended by Plutarch under
the equal one of Celto-Scythae. The name of Am-
brones appears particularly to have been Gallic ;
being common to the Saxons beyond the Elbe,
and the Ligurians in Cisalpine Gaul ; as both
found, to .their surprise, on the irruption of the
former into Italy with the Cimbri. And, what is
equally su rprising, and has been equally unnoticed
by the critics, the Welsh distinguish England by
the name of Loegr or Liguria, even to the presen*
moment. In that irruption, these Saxons, Am-
brones, or Ligurians, composed a body of more
than 30,000 men, and were principally concerned
in cutting to pieces the large armies of Manlius
and Caepio. Nor is the appellation of Saxons
less Celtic than the other. It was originally the
same with the Belgic Suessones of Gaul ; the
capital of that tribe being now entitled Soissons
by the French, and the name of the Saxons pro-
nounced Saisen by the Welsh, Sason by the Scots,
and Saisenach or Saxsenath by the Irish. And the
Suessones or Saxones of Gaul derived their own
appellation from the position of their metropolis
on a river, the stream at Soissons being now de-
nominated the Aisne, and formerly the Axon;
Uess-on, or Axon, importing only waters, or a
river, and S-uess-on or S-ax-on the waters of the
river. The Suessones, therefore, are actually de-
nominated the Uessones by Ptolemy ; and the
Saxones are actually entitled the Axones by
Lucan. These, with their brethren and allies thv
Cimbri, having been more formidable enemies
to the Romans by land than the Samnites, Car-
thaginians, Spaniards, Gauls, or Parthians, in the
second century applied themselves to navigation,
and became nearly as terrible by sea. They soon
made themselves known to the inhabitants of the
British isles by their piracies in the northern
channels, and were denominated by them Loch-
lyn or Lochlynach; lucd-lyn signifying the
people of the wave, and the D being quiescent
in the pronunciation. They took possession of
the Orkney Islands, which were then merely large
shoals of land, uncovered with woods, and over-
grown with rushes ; and they landed in the north
of Ireland, and ravaged the country. Before
the middle of the third century they made a
second descent upon the latter, disembarked a
considerable body of men, and designed the
absolute subjection of the island. Before the
conclusion of it, they carried their naval opera-
tions to the south, infested the British Channel
with their little vessels, and made frequent de-
scents upon the coasts. And in the fourth and
fifth centuries, acting in conjunction with the
Picts of Caledonia and the Scots of Ireland, they
ravaged all the east and south-east shores of Bri-
tain, began the formal conquest of the country,
and finally settled their tictorious soldiery in
Lancashire.
The division of Germany into circles took
place towards the close of the fifteenth century,
when the large tract of country known vaguely
by the name of Saxony, was formed into three
circles, Westphalia, Upper Saxony, and Lower
Saxony. Upper might with more propriety have
been styled Eastern Saxony, being bounded by
Poland, Silesia, and Lusatia on the east, and by
Bohemia and Franconia on the south. Its ex-
tent was about 43,000 square miles ; its popula-
tion about 4,000,000. It comprised the electo-
rates of Saxony and Brandenburg, the duchy of
Pomerania, and a number of small principalities.
The name of Upper is to be understood as im-
plying a surface of such comparative elevation
as to cause several rivers (the Elbe, Spree, and
SAXONY.
347
o'heis) to flow to the westward towards Lower
Saxony. That country, which might have been
termed Western Saxony, had Westphalia and the
Rhine to the west, and Sleswick with the Baltic
to the north. Its area contained 26,000 square
miles, and comprised the electorate of Hanover,
the duchies of Mecklenburs, Brunswick, and
llolstein, the free towns of Hamburgh, Bremen,
Lubeck, with a number of small states. In 1806
the distinction of circles was finally abolished,
and the names of Upper and Lower Saxony are
now of use only in history.
SAXONY, a modern kingdom of Europe, is
situated towards the north-east of Germany, and
bounded on the south by Bohemia, and on the
north by the Prussian states. Previous to 1814
it contained 2,000,000 of inhabitants (exclusive
of the part of Poland subject to this crown) ; but
it was reduced by the congress of Vienna. At
present its divisions, extent and population, are,
Square
miles.
Population.
Circle of Meissen
Leipsic
Erzgebirge
Vogtland
Part of Merseburg
Upper Lusatia
1600
1460
2175
700
73
1180
300,000
207,000
460,000
90,000
10,000
170,000
Total
7188
1,237,000
1 lie length of Saxony is 140 miles, its greatest
breadth about seventy-five.
No part of Europe in the same latitude enjoys
a milder climate. Towards the north-east of the
frontier line, and in a quarter where the lofty
langeof the Erzgebirge is succeeded by a lower,
called the Wohlische Kamm, the Elbe issues
from Bohemia. The other considerable rivers
are the two Elsters, the two Muldas, and the
Queiss, all rising in the south of Saxony, and
flowing northward, but not navigable here. The
Elbe, on the other hand, is navigable, and, by
its course through the centre of the country,
affords a noble conveyance for merchandise. The
mountainous districts in the south contain exten-
sive forests, which are kept up with care as the
supply of fuel for the mines. Coal and turf are
used for domestic fuel. In the southern and
mountainous parts the valleys only are well cul-
tivated ; but in the level districts, particularly the
circles of Meissen and Leipsic, the products are
wheat, barley, oats, and other grain, tobacco and
bops. Vines are found in a few situations.
The number of sheep is large, and great care
has been bestowed on the Merino rams, first im-
ported about the year 1768; the Saxon wool,
indeed, has been rendered, by good management,
the best in Germany. Hogs are also numerous.
Few countries equal Saxony in mineral riches.
The rocks of the Erzgebirge furnished Werner
with the facts on which he founded a system of
geology. The basis of the Erzgebirge is granite,
covered by gneiss, mica, and clay slate in suc-
cession. Between these are strata, containing
metallic ores. The rocks, called in this country
weiss-stein (white-rock), contain a variety of
heterogeneous substances, such as feldtspar, mica,
garnet, and cyanite. Basalt is found in various
parts, towering above the others in lofty polygo-
nal columns. The topaz occurs frequently, and
there are found also chrysolites, amethysts, chal-
cedonies, cornelians, agates, jasper, garnets, and
tourmalins ; serpentine, asbest, amianthus, ba-
rytes, and fluates of lime. The porcelain clay
in the neighbourhood of Meissen is well known ;
here are also fullers'-earth, terra-sigillata, and
other argillaceous minerals. There are also a
few silver mines. The lofty primitive mountains
abound in iron ; the secondary in copper and
lead. Next to these are arsenic, cobalt, anti-
mony, manganese, zinc, sulphur, alum, vitriol,
and borax.
The manufactures and trade are of great ex-
tent, and are somewhat similar to those of Eng-
land. The weaving of linen is an employment
of old date, and is carried on in almost every
village of the kingdom, but more particularly in
Upper Lusatia, at Zittau, Bautzen, and Herrnhut.
Woollens are likewise manufactured extensively,
and cotton spinning and weaving on a good
scale. The machinery used in Saxony, though
inferior to the English, has of late years been
much improved; labor also is cheap. There
are silk manufactures on a small scale at Leipsie
and other towns. Tanneries are more general,
and paper manufactories are not inconsiderable.
Every town of consequence has its breweries
and distilleries. The manufactures connected
with the mines are of course of considerable ex-
tent. At Dresden there are foundries of cannon
and balls. Cobalt is made into smalts and blue
dye in several towns in the mining district ; other
places are noted for the manufacture of verdi-
gris and green dye.
The exports from Saxony consist in wool and
minerals ; linen, yarn, woollens, and lace. The
imports are silk, flax, cotton, coffee, sugar, wine,
and in certain seasons corn. The most trading
place is Leipsic, which is remarkable both for
its half-yearly fairs, and for being the centre of
the book trade.
Saxony reckons among its inhabitants a great
majority of Lutherans, but the reigning family
have been Catholics since 1697. The institutions
for education in this country are numerous and
well conducted, it being a common remark that
in no country, except Scotland and the Pays de
Vaud, are the lower classes so generally taught
to read and write. In no country of equal ex-
tent is the number of printing and book estab-
lishments so great. Halle now belongs to Prussia,
but Leipsic remains to Saxony, and maintains
its reputation. The German character predomi-
nates among this people, as is evinced, among
other things, by the minuteness with which they
too often treat an insignificant subject ; also in
the more creditable points of the general modesty
of their females.
The revenue of Saxony, after defraying all
local expenses, probably exceeds £1,000,000
sterling, and Saxony has long been burdened
with a national debt. The army, which in this
country was never large in proportion to its po-
348
SAXONY.
pulation, is on a peace establishment of 12,000
men, the best disciplined part of whom are
cavalry and artillery.
After being, during many centuries, an electo-
rate, Saxony was formed in 1 806 into a kingdom,
in consequence of the occupancy of Prussia by
Buonaparte. This change of title was not accom-
panied by an extension of prerogative, the sove-
reign continuing to share the legislative functions
with the states. The states are divided into two
houses, viz. the prelates and nobles in one, and
in the other the country gentry and deputies of
the towns. The higher offices of administration
are entrusted to a cabinet council, a board of
finance, a military board, a high court of appeal
for judicial questions, and an upper consistory
for ecclesiastical. Each circle has a court of
justice, and offices for the transaction of provin-
cial business. The peasantry are here in the
enjoyment of complete personal freedom.
The king, as a member of the Germanic con-
federation, has the fourth rank in the smaller,
and four votes in the larger assembly. J
Saxony remained neutral in the war of 1740
between Prussia and Austria. In that of 1756
she was tempted to take part by Austria ; but, in-
stead of an accession of territory, she saw her do-
minions ravaged and many of her subjects ruined.
The peace of 1763 left her country loaded with
an enormous debt. In the war of 1 793 the con-
tingent furnished by Saxony against France
was not large, and no decided part was taken in
the war, until 1806, when the elector sent all
his troops to the support of the king of Prussia.
The overthrow of that power enabled Buona-
parte to attach the Saxons to his cause. The
title of elector was changed to that of king.
Prussian Poland was added to the Saxon domi-
nions, and in 1809 was nearly doubled by ces-
sions from Austria. But these acquisitions led
to disastrous results. The Russians re-occupied
Poland in the beginning of 1813, and, joined by
the Prussians, made Saxony the scene of the
great struggle against Buonaparte. Many of the
people, however, flattered themselves that their
attachment to the cause of Germany, evinced by
the defection of their troops from the French
army on the 18th October, would secure the in-
tegrity of the territory. The interval between the
battle of Leipsic and the decision of the congress
of Vienna (nearly eighteen mouths) was balanced
between hope and fear, and cruel was the disap-
pointment of the Saxons, on finding that the
northern and eastern part, containing no less
than 850,000 inhabitants, was to be transferred
to Prussia. The king protested against this dis-
memberment; but, dreading bloodshed, he
thought proper to acquiesce.
SAXONY, a province of the Prussian states,
situated to the west of Brandenburgh, and north
of the kingdom of Saxony. It comprises almost
the whole of the cessions made by the latter
power at the congress of Vienna, the principali-
ties to the north of the duchy of Anhalt, and to
the west of the rivers Elbe and Havel ; so that
the whole now forms an area of 9830 square
miles, with more than 1,000,000 of inhabi-
tants. It is divided into the governments of
Magdeburg, Merseburg, and Erfurt, and form* a
distinct military division; the chief town is
Madgeburg.
This province is in general level, the only
hills being part of the Hartz, in the south-west
corner, and a detached part of the Thuringiaa
forest. The rest is varied only by insignificant
elevations. The soil, however, varies, being in
some places dry and sandy, and in others a
heavy loam. No part of the Prussian states
possesses a more fertile land and good husban-
dry. There are some large forests, but in the
far greater part wood is scarce. The objects of
cultivation are corn, hemp, flax, and chicory for
making coffee. Pit coal and metals are found in
the mountains of the Hartz; porcelainx clay in
the level ground in the south ; but the product
hitherto most profitable is salt obtained from
brine springs by evaporation. The richest of
these springs is in the government of Merseburg,
where it is often difficult to find pure water for
drinking. The inhabitants are almost all Protes-
tants, except in the little district called the
Eichsfeld. Having enjoyed the benefits of an
enlightened government, both under Prussia ana
Saxony, they are in general active and industr
ous. The commerce is insignificant.
SAY, v. a., v. n. & n. s. ) Sax. j-ecjan ; Belg.
SAY'ING, n. *. $ seggan; Teut. sagen.
To speak ; utter in words ; allege ; repeat : to
pronounce ; utter ; relate : as a noun-substantive,
a speech, and (abridged from ASSAY) a sample ;
trial : saying is an expression ; a word ; a proverb.
And hise britheren seiden to him, passe fro hennis,
and go into Judee, that also thi disciplis seen thi
werkis that thou doist. WiclifJon. 7.
Speak unto Solomon ; for he will not say thee nay.
1 Kings.
He said moreover, I have somewhat to say unto
thee ; and she said, Say on. Id.
Say nothing to any man, but go thy way. Mark.
Moses fled at this saying, and was a stranger in
Midian. Acts.
Then shall be said or sung as follows.
i Common Prayer.
So good a say invites the eye,
A little downward to espy
The lively clusters of her breast. Sidney.
Say it out, Diggon, whatever it hight. Spenter
With flying speed, and seeming great pretence,
Came messenger with letters which his message said.
Faerie Queene.
Some obscure precedence, that hath tofore been
«ain. Shaktpeare.
Since thy outside looks so fair and warlike,
And that thy tongue some say of breeding breathes,
By rule of knighthood I disdain. Id.
I thank thee, Brutus,
That thou hast proved Lucilius s saying true. Id.
The council-table and star-chamber hold, as Thu-
cydides said of the Athenians, for honourable that
which pleased, and for just that which profited.
"larendon.
Many are the taking* of the wise,
Extolling patience as the truest fortitude. Milton.
Say first what cause
Moved our grand parents to fall off ! Id.
King John succeeded his said brother in the king-
dom of England and duchy of Normandy. Hale.
This gentleman having brought that earth to th«
publick '(ay masters, and upon their being unable to
SAY
bring it to fusion, or make it fly away, he had pro-
cured a little of it, and with a peculiar flux separated
a third part of pure gold. Boyle.
Others try to divert the troubles of other men by
pretty and plausible sayings, such as this, that if evils
are long, they are but light. Tiliotson.
After all can be said against a thing, this will still
be true, that many things possibly are which we
know not of.
The lion here has taken his right measures, that
is to say, he has made a true judgment. L'Estrange.
We poetick folk, who must restrain
Our measured sayings in an equal chain,
Have troubles utterly unknown to those,
Who let their fancy loose in rambling prose. Prior.
The sacred function can never be hurt by their
tayings, if not first reproached by our doings.
Atterbury.
And who more blest, who chained his country ; say,
:JT he whose virtue sighed to lose a day 7 Pope.
He no sooner said out his say., but up rises a cun-
ning snap. Jd.
Say, Stella, feel you no content,
Reflecting on a life well spent 1 Swift.
Of some propositions it may be difficult to tay
whether they affirm or deny ; as when we say, Plato
was no fool. Watts.
SAY (Samuel), an English dissenting minis-
ter, was born in 1675. After acting as chap-
*ain and preacher in Andover and Yarmouth, he
was settled at Lowestofft for eighteen years.
He next became colleague to the Rev. Samuel
Baxter, at Ipswich, for nine years, and at last,
in T734, succeeded the celebrated Dr. Edmund
Calamy at Westminster ; where he died April
12th, 1743, aged sixty-eight. A volume of his
poems was published in 4to., 1743, with two
essays in prose, On the Harmony, Variety, and
Power of Numbers ; which have been much
admired. These were published for the benefit
of his daughter. He wrote several other tracts.
SAY, in commerce, a kind of serge much used
abroad for linings, and by the religious for shirts ;
with us it is used for aprons by several sorts of
artificers, being usually dyed green.
SAYANSKIE, a chain of mountains in Sibe-
ria, forming a prolongation of the Altai, and a
line of separation between Siberia and Chinese
Tartary. They extend between the Upper
Yenisei and the lake Baikal, and consist chiefly
of naked rocks of a red granite. They are di-
vided into two ranges, one of which, bordering
on the Yenisei, derives its name from that river,
the other from the city of Krasnoiarsk.
SAYPAN, one of the Ladrone Islands, about
twenty miles in circumference. According to
some it does not afford the same refreshments to
ships that touch there as Tinian, though Anson,
by whom it was visited, says that it presents an
aspect not in any respect less agreeable. Voy-
agers in general agree in giving Tinian the pre-
ference to Saypan, both in regard to extent and
beauty. Long. 145° 55' E., lat. 15° 13' N.
SBIRRI, from Ital. sbirri, an archer, a name
given to a class of armed police in Italy, re-
sembling the French gens'd'armes in every thing
but their usefulness. They patrole with a large
cocked hat, armed with a fusil, pistols, and in-
variably with a poniard. They are under the
immediate command, and subject to the orders
of, the different intendants or governors of pro-
vinces, and, in small towns, under those of the
SCA
magistrates. The sbirri are employed like our
Bow Street officers, in taking up thieves ana
assassins, whom they are authorised to lodge in
the different prisons, and at whose execution
they must personally attend. These men are, in
general, despised, and not much feared by the
people ; they are often accused of being in com-
munication with the leaders of the various gangs
of robbers and assassins that infest Italy, parti-
cularly the Appennine mountains-.
SCAB, n. s. ~\ Sax. pcaeb ; Ital. scabbia ;
SCABB'ED, adj. f Lat. scabies. An incrustation
SCABB'Y, i formed over a sore ; a dis-
SCA BIOUS. J ease of animals : the adjec-
tives all follow the sense of the noun-substantive.
Her writhled skin, as rough as mapple rind,
So scabby was, that it would have loathed all woman-
kind. Faerie Qiieene.
What's the matter you dissentious rogues,
That rubbing the poor itch of your opinion,
Make yourselves scabs 1 Shakspeare. Coriolanus.
I would thou did'st itch from head to foot, and I
had the scratching of thee, I would make thee the
loathsomest scab in Greece. Shakspeare.
The briar fruit make those that eat them scabbed.
Bacon.
That free from gouts thou may'st preserve thy care,
And clear from scabs produced by freezing air.
Dryden.
To you such scabb'd harsh fruit is given, as raw
Young soldiers at their exercising gnaw. Id.
A scabby tetter on their pelts will stick.
When the raw rain has pierced them to the quick.
Id.
One of the usurers, a head man of the city, took
it in dudgeon to be ranked, cheek by joul, with a
scab of a currier. L'Estrange.
In the spring scabious eruptions upon the skin
were epidemical, from the acidity of the blood.
Arbuthnot on Air.
This vap'ring scab must needs devise
To ape the thunder of the skies. Swift.
If the grazier should bring me one wether fat and
well fleeced, and expect the same price for a whole
hundred, without giving me security to restore ray
money for those that were lean, shorn, or scabby, I
would be none of his customer. Id.
SCAB'BARD, n. s. Germ, schap — Junius »
Goth, skalpen. The sheath of a sword.
Enter fortune's gate,
Nor in thy scabbard sheath that famous blade,
'Till settled be thy kingdom and estate. Fairfax.
What eyes ! how keen their glances ! you do well
to keep 'em veiled ; they are too sharp to be trusted
out o' th' scabbard. Dryden's Spanish Fryar.
SCA-BIOSA, scabious, in botany, a genus of
the monogynia order and tetrandria class of
plants, natural order forty-eighth, aggregate ,
Common CAL. polyphyllous ; proper, double
superior; the receptacle paleaceous or naked.
The most remarkable species are, —
1. S. arvensis, the meadow scabious, which
grows naturally in many places of Britain. It
has a strong, thick, fibrous root, sending out
many branching stalks, which rise to the height
of three feet. The lower leaves are sometimes
almost entire, and at others they are cut into
many segments almost to the midrib. The
flowers are produced upon naked foot-stalks at
the end of the branches ; they are of a purple
color, and have a faint odor.
2. S succisa, or devil's bit, grows naturally in
SCA
350
SCA
woods and moist places. This has a short tap-
root, the end of which appears as if it was
bitten or cut off, whence the plant has its name.
The leaves are open and spear-shaped, and
smooth ; the stalks are single, about two feet
high, garnished with two leaves at each joint ;
they generally send out two short foot-stalks
from their upper joint, standing opposite, which
are terminated by purple flowers. Both these
have been recommended as aperient, sbdonfic,
and expectorant ; but the present practice has no
dependence on them.
SCA'BROUS, adj. Fr. scabreus; Lat. sca-
tter. Rough ; rugged ; poir ed on the surface ;
harsh.
Lucretius is scabrous and rougo in these ; he seeks
them, as some do Chaucensms, which were better
expunged. Ben Jonson.
Urine, black and bloody, is'occasioned by sorae-
jhing sharp or scabrous wounding the small blood-
vessels ; if the stone is smooth and well bedded, this
may not happen. Arbuthnot.
SCABWORT. See SCABIOSA.
SC .-UVULA, in botany, a genus of the mono-
gynia order and pentandria class of plants : COR.
monopetalous ; the tube slit longitudinally ; the
Iwrder quinquefid and lateral. The fruit is a
plum inferior and monospermous ; the nucleus
bilocular. Species three, natives of India.
SCAF'FULD, n. s. } French eschafaut;
SCAF'FOLDAGE, >of Lat. scabellwn. A
SCAF'FOLDING. j temporary stage or gal-
lery : particularly the stage erected for the exe-
cution of malefactors : the other two substantives
are synonymous.
Fortune, smiling at her fortune therein, that a
scaffold of execution should grow a scaffold of coro-
nation. Sydney.
Pardon
The flat unraised spirit, that hath dared
On this unworthy scaffold to bring forth
So great an object. Shahspeare. Henry V.
A strutting player doth think it rich
To hear the wooden dialogue and sound,
Twixt his stretch 'd footing and the tcaffoldage.
Shahspeare.
These outward beauties are but the props and
scaffolds
On which we built our love, which, now made
perfect,
Stands without these supports. Denham's Sophy.
The throng
On banks and scaffolds under sky might stand.
Milton.
Send forth your lab'ring thought ;
Let it return with empty notions fraught,
Of airy columns every moment broke,
Of circling whirlpools, and of spheres of smoke :
Yet this solution but once more affords
New change of terms and scaffolding of words.
Prior.
What are riches, empire, power,
But steps by which we climD to rise, and reach
Our wish ? and, that obtained, down with the scaf-
folding
Of sceptres and of thrones. ' Congreve.
Sickness, contributing no less than old age to the
shaking down this scaffolding of the body, may dis-
cover the inward structure. Popt.
Sylla added three hundred commons to the senate ;
then abolished the office of tribune, as being only a
icaff'i>ld to tyranny, whereof he had no further use.
Swift.
SCAGLIULA, in architecture, a kind of Ita-
lian composition in imitation of marble, variously
colored according to the species the artist in-
tends to represent. It is laid on brick in the
manner of stucco, and worked off with iron
tools, or formed by moulds into friezes, architec-
tural borders, &c. This manufacture was intro-
duced into this country by Mr. Coade, and is
now carried on with great success.
SCALA (Bartolomeo), an eminent Italian
writer, who flourished when literature was reviv-
ing in Europe. He was born about 1424, and
was the only son of a miller ; but, going early to
Florence, Cosmo de Medicis gave him education.
He studied the law ; became LL.D., and fre-
quented the bar. Un Cosmo's death, in 1464,
Peter de Medicis employed him in the service
of the republic, in the most important negocia-
tions. In 1471 he was made a citizen of Flo-
rence; in 1472 he was ennobled and made
chancellor. In 1484 he was sent on an embassy
to pope Innocent VIII., whom he pleased so
well that the pope made him a Roman knight
and senator. He published some of his orations,
among which were the following: — 1. Pro Im-
peraioriis militaribus signis dandis Constantio
Sfortiae imperatori; 1481; 2. Apologia contra
vituperatores Florentiae; 1496, folio; 3. De
Historia Florentina ; Libri iv. 4. Vita di Vita-
liani Borromeo ; Rome, 1677, 4to. He died in
Florence in 1497.
SCALA NOVA, the old Neapolis, a well built
sea-port town of Asia Minor, three leagues from
the site> of the ancient Ephesus. The fortifica-
tions are about three-quarters of a mile in cir-
cumference. To the north is a suburb, in which
alone the Christians are permitted to' dwell.
The population is reckoned by Tournefort, at
1000 Turkish families, 600 Greek, ten Jew, and
sixty Armenian. The town carries on a consi-
derable trade in grain, coffee, and cloth, from
Egypt, Smyrna, and Salonica. The neighbour-
hood yields a considerable quantity of wine.
Forty miles south of Smyrna.
SCALADE', n. $. > Fr. scalade ; Span, sca-
SCALA'DO. J lada, from Latin scala, a
ladder. A storm given to a place by raising
ladders against the walls.
What can be more strange than that we should
within two months have won one town of importance
by tcalado, battered and assaulted another, and over-
thrown great forces in the field ? Bar on .
Thou raiscdst thy voice to record the stratagems,
the arduous exploits, and the nocturnal scalade of
needy heroes, the terror of your peaceful citizens.
Arbuthnot's History of John Bull.
SCA LA no, or SCALADE, in the art of war, is
an assault made on the wall or rampart of a
city, or other fortified place, by means of lad-
ders, without carrying on works in form, to
secure the men.
SCA'LARY, adj. From Lat. scala. Pro-
ceeding by steps like those of a ladder.
He made at nearer distances certain elevated
places and scahtry ascents, that they might better
ascend or mount their horses. Browne
SCA
351
SCA
SCALD, v. a., n. s., & adj. } Span, csculder ;
SCALD'IIEAD, n. s. >Ital. scaldare ; of
SCALL. y Lat. culidus. To
burn with hot liquor : scurf on the head : paltry ;
sorry : scurvy : scaldhead, a leprous disease of
the head : scall is leprosy ; morbid baldness.
It is a dry scall, a leprosy upon the head.
Lev. xiii. 30.
Upon thy bald hede maist thou have the scall.
Chaucer.
Her head altogether bald,
Was overgrown with scurff and filthy scald.
Spenser.
O majesty !
When thou dost pinch, thy bearer, thou dost sit
Like a rich armour worn in heat of day
That scalds with safety. Shakspeare. Henry IV.
Saucy lictors
Will catch at us like strumpets, and scald rhymers
Ballad us out o'tune. Shakspeare.
Here the blue flames of scalding brimstone fall,
Involving swiftly in one ruin all. Cowley.
That I grieve, 'tis true ;
But 'tis a grief of fury, not despair !
And, if a manly drop or two fall down,
It scalds along my cheeks, like the green wood,
That, sputt'ring in the flame, works outward into
tears. Dryden's CLeomenes.
It depends not on his will to persuade himself,
that what actually scalds him, feels cold. Locke.
In Oxfordshire the sour land they fallow when
the sun is pretty high, which they call a scalding
fallow. Mortimer.
Warm cataplasms discuss ; but scalding hot may
confirm the tumour : heat, in general, doth not
resolve and attenuate the juices of a human body ;
for too great heat will produce concretions.
Arbulhnot on Aliments.
The serum is corrupted by the infection of the
touch of a salt humour, to which the scab, pox, and
scaldhead are referable. Flayer.
The best thing we can do with Wood is to scald
him ;
For which operation there's nothing more proper
Than the liquor he deals in, his own melted copper.
Swift.
SCALD CREAM, sometimes also called clouted
cream, a method of preparing cream for butter.
Mr. Feltham gives the following account of it : —
The purpose of making scald cream is for but-
ter superior to any which can be procured from
the usual raw cream, being preferable for flavor
and keeping. As leaden cisterns would not
answer for scalding cream, the dairies mostly
adopt brass pans, which hold from three to five
gallons of the milk ; and that which is put into
those pans one morning stands till the next,
when, without disturbing it, it is set over (on a
trivet) a steady brisk wood fire, devoid of smoke,
where it is to remain from seven 10 fifteen
minutes, according to the size of the pan, or the
quantity in it : the precise time for removing it
from the fire must be particularly attended to,
which is, when the surface begins to wrinkle or
to gather in a little, showing signs of boiling ;
it is then instantly to be taken off, and placed
in the dairy until the next morning, when the
fine cream is thrown up, and may be taken for
the table, or for butter, into which it is now
soon converted by stirring it with the hand.
Some know when to remove it from the fire by
sounding the pan with the finger, it being then
less sonorous ; but this is only acquired by ex-
perience. Dr. Hales observes that this method
of preparing milk will take off the taste it
sometimes acquires from the cows' feeding on
turnips, cabbages, &c.
SCALDS, in the history of literature, a name
given by the ancient inhabitants of the northern
countries to their poets ; in whose writings their
history is recorded. See BARDS.
SCALE, n. s. &u. «. Sax. r-cale ; Belg. schael ;
Island, skal ; Goth. skal. A balance ; the dish
of a balance : hence the sign Libra : to measure ;
compare.
If thou tak'st more
Or less than a just pound, if the scale turn
But in the estimation of a hair,
Thou diest. Shakspeare. Merchant of Venice.
Here's an equivocator, that could swear, in both
the scales, against either scale. Sha/tspeare.
You have found,
Scaling his present bearing with his past,
That he's your fixed enemy. Id. Coriolaniu.
The world's scales are even ; when the main
In one place gets, another quits again. Cleveland.
Juno pours out the urn, and Vulcan claims
The scales, as the just product of his flames.
Creech.
Long time in even scale
The battle hung. Milton's Paradise Lost.
The scales are turned, her kindness weighs no
more
Now than my vows. Waller.
In full assemblies let the crowd prevail ;
I weigh no merit by the common scale,
The conscience is the test. Dryden.
If we consider the dignity of an intelligent being,
and put that in the scales against brute inanimate mat-
ter, we may affirm, without overvaluing human nature,
that the soul of one virtuous and religious man is of
greater worth and excellency than the sun and his
planets. Bentley's Sermons.
Collect at evening what the day brought forth,
Compress the sum into its solid worth,
And, if it weigh the importance of a fly,
The scales are false, or algebra a lie. Cowper.
SCALE, n.s., v.a. & v. n.") Fr. escaille ; Lat.
SCALED, adj. > squama. The la-
SCALY. j mina of a fish's
coat ; any thing exfoliated or disquamated : to
strip of scales ; to pare off a surface : the adjec-
tives signify squamous ; having scales : to peel
off in thin particles.
Raphael was sent to scale away the whiteness of
Tobit'seyes. Tab. iii. 17.
Half my Egypt was submerged, and made
A cistern for scaled snakes.
Shakspeare. Antony and Cleopatra.
Those that cast their shell are the lobster and
crab : the old skins are found, but the old shells
never ; so as it is like they scale off, and crumble
away by degrees. Bacon.
He puts him on a coat of mail,
Which was made of a fish's scale. Drayton.
Take jet and the scales of iron, and with a wet fea-
ther, when the smith hath taken an heat, take up the
scales that fly from the iron, and those scales von
should grind upon your painter's stone. Peacham.
The river horse and scaly crocodile. Milton.
Standing aloof, with lead they bruise the scales,
And tear the flesh of the incensed whales. Waller.
His awful summons they so soon obey ;
So hear the scaly herd when Proteus blows,
And so to pasture follow through the sea. Dryhn.
SCA
352
SCA
I/ all the mountains were tcaled, and the earth
tv.ade even, the waters would not overflow its smooth
surface. Burnet.
A scaly fish with a forked tail. Woodward.
When a scale of bone is taken out of a wound,
burning retards the separation. Sharp's Surgery.
SCALE, n.s. 8c v. a. Lat. scala. A ladder;
means of ascent ; the act' of storming by lad-
ders ; regular gradation ; series of musical or
other degrees, or notes ; any thing marked at
equal distances : to climb by ladders ; to mount.
Often have I scaled the craggy oak,
All to dislodge the raven of her nest :
How have I wearied, with many a stroke,
The stately walnut-tree, the while the rest
Under the tree fell all for nuts at strife ! Spenser.
They assailed the breach, and others with their
scaling ladders scaled the walls.
Knollet's History nf the Turks.
They take the flower o' the Nile
By certain scale i' the pyramid : they know
By the height, the lowness, or the mean, if dearth
Or foizon follow.
Shakspeare. Antony and Cleopatra.
' Love refines
The thought, and heart enlarges ; hath his seat
In reason, and is judicious ; is the scale
By which to heavenly love thou mayest ascend.
Milton.
Others to a city strong
Lay siege, encamped ; by battery, scalt, and mine
Assaulting. Id. Paradise Lost.
The map of London was set out in the year 1658,
oy Mr. Newcourt, drawn by a icale of yards.
Graunt.
Heaven with these engines had been scaled,
When mountains heaped on mountains failed.
Walter.
The bent of his thoughts and reasonings run up
and down this scale, that no people can be happy but
under good governments. Temple.
When the bold Typhaeus scaled the sky,
And forced great Jove from his own heaven to fly,
The lesser gods all suffered. Dryden.
The scale of the creatures is a matter of high specu-
lation. Grew.
On the bendings of these mountains the mark of
several ancient scales of stairs may be seen, by which
they used to ascend them. Addison on Italy.
We believe an invisible world, and a scale of
spiritual beings, all nobler than ourselves.
Bentley's Sermons,
All the integral parts of nature have a beautiful
analogy to one author, and to their mighty, original,
whose images are more or less expressive, according
to their several gradations in the smle of beings.
Chetfne's Philosophical Principles.
Far as creation's ample range extends,
The scale of sensual mental powers ascends. Pope.
SCALE, a mathematical instrument consisting
of several lines drawn on wood, brass, silver,
&c., and variously divided according to the pur-
poses it is intended to serve ; whence it acquires
various denominations, as the plain scale, dia-
gonal scale, plotting scale, &c.
SCALE, in architecture and geography, a line
divided into equal parts, placed at the bottom of
a map or draught, to serve as a common measure
to all the parts of the building, or all the dis-
tances and places of the map.
SCALE, in music, sometimes denominated a
gamut, a diagram, a series, an order, a diapason.
It consists of the regular gradations of sound,
by which a composer or performer whether m
rising or descending may pass from any given
tune to another. These gradations are seven.
When this order is repeated, the first note of the
second is consentaneous with the lowest note of
the first ;. the second of the former with the se-
cond of the latter ; and so through the whole
octave. The second order, therefore, is justly
esteemed only a repetition of the first. For
this reason the scale among the moderns is some-
times limited to an octave ; at other times ex-
tended to the compass of any particular voice or
instrument. It likewise frequently includes all
the practical gradations of musical sound, or the
whole number of octaves employed in compo-
sition or execution, arranged in their natural
order. See Music.
SCALIGER (Julius Caesar), a learned critic,
born at the castle of Ripa, in the Veronese, in
1484; and said by himself to have been de-
scended from the ancient princes of Verona.
He learned the Latin tongue in his own country ;
and in his twelfth year was presented to the em-
peror Maximilian, who made him one of his
pages. He served that emperor seventeen years,
and gave signal proofs of his valor and conduct
in several expeditions. He was present at the
battle of Ravenna in April 1512, in which he
lost his father Benedict Scaliger, and his brother
Titus ; on which his mother died with grief :
when, being reduced to necessitous circumstances,
he entered into the order of the Franciscans, and
applied himself to study at Bologna ; but soon
after took arms again, and served in Piedmont.
At which time a physician persuaded him to
study physic, which he did at his leisure hours,
and also learned Greek ; and at last the gout d--
termined him, at forty years of age, to abandon
a military life. He soon after settled at Agen,
where he was naturalised in 1528, married, and
applied himself seriously to his studies. !!••
learned first the French tongue ; and then made
himself master of the Gascon, Italian, Spanish,
German, Hungarian, and Sclavonian. Mean-
while he supported his family by the practice of
physic. He did not publish any of his works
till he was forty-seven years of age; when he
.soon gained a name in the republic of letters.
He had a graceful person, and a strong memory.
He died of a retention of urine in 1558. He
wrote in Latin, 1. A Treatise on the Art of Poe-
try. 2. Exercitations against Cardan : which
works are much esteemed. 3. Commentaries on
Aristotle's History of Animals, and on Theo-
phrastus on Plants. 4. Some Treatises on Physic.
5. Letters, Orations, Poems, and other works in
Latin.
SCALIGER (Joseph Justus), one of the most
learned critics and writers of his time; the son
of the above, was born at Agen, in France, in
1540. He studied in the college of Bourdeaux,
after which his father employed him in tran-
scribing his poems ; by which he obtained such
a taste for poetry that before he was seventeen
years old he wrote a tragedy upon the subject
of Oedipus. He went to Paris in 1559, with a
design to apply himself to the Greek language
For this purpose he for two months attended the
lectures of Turnebus ; and afterwards shut him-
SCA
3,53
SCA
self up, and by constant application for two
years gained a perfect knowledge of that lan-
guage ; after which he applied to the Hebrew,
which he learned by himself with great facility.
He made no less progress in the sciences ; and
his writings procured him the reput\tion of one
of the greatest men of the age. He embraced
the reformed religion at twenty-two years of age.
In 1563 he attached himself to Lewis Casteig-
nier de la Roch Pazay, whom he attended in
several journeys ; and in 1593 was offered the
place of honorary professor of the university of
Leyden, which he accepted. He died of a
dropsy in that city in 1609. He was a man of
great temperance ; and was never married. He
published many works, the principal of which are,
1. Notes on Seneca's Tragedies, on Varro, Au-
sonius, Pompeius Festus, &c. 2. Latin Poems.
3. A Treatise de Emendatione Temporum. ' 4.
Eusebius's Chronicle with Notes. . 5. Canones
Isagogici; and many other works. The collec-
tions entitled Scaligeriana were collected from
his conversations by one of his friends ; and,
being ranged into alphabetical order, were pub-
lished by Isaac Vossius.
SCAL'LOP, n. s. Fr. escalop. A fish with a
hollow pectinated shell.
So the emperour Caligula,
That triumphed o'er the British sea,
Engaged his legions in fierce bustles
With periwincles, prawns, and muscles,
And led his troops with furious gallops,
To charge whole regiments of scallops. Hudibras.
The sand is in Scilly glistering, which may be oc-
casioned from freestone mingled with white scallop
shells. Mortimer.
SCALLOP, in ichthyology. See PECTEN. In
the Highlands of Scotland, the great scallop shell
is made use of for the skimming of milk. In
old times it had a more honorable place ; being
admitted into the halls of heroes, and was the
cup of their festivity when the tribe assembled
in the hall of thei- chieftain.
SCALMARTIN ROCKS, rocks of Ireland, on
the coast of Down county, Ulster, in the harbour
of Donaghadee. Though they are so smooth
that vessels seldom suffer on them, yet in high
tides and storms they are dangerous.
SCALP, n. s. & v. a. Belg. schelpe, a shell ;
Ital. scalpo. The skull or cranium ; to take off
the scalp.
High brandishing his bright dew-burning blade,
Upon his crested scalp so sore did smite,
That to the scull a yawning wound it made.
Faerie Queene.
White beards have armed their thin and hairless
Against thy majesty. Shakspeare. Richard II.
The hairy scalps
Are whirled aloof, while numerous trunks bestrow
The ensanguined field. Phillips.
If the fracture be not complicated with a wound
of the sca/f), or the wound is too small to admit of
the operation, the fracture must be laid bare by
taking away a large piece of the scalp.
Sharp's Surgery.
We seldom inquire for a fracture of the skull by
tcalping, but that the scalp itself is contused.
Sharp.
SCALPA, one of the Western Islands of
Scotland, lying in the sound between the Isle of
VOL XIX
Sky and Pomona, about five miles long and from
two to three broad. It is barren and rocky, in
the highest part of it, is a rock of petrified
moss, in which are a variety of shells ; and great
quantities of shells are found several feet under
ground. It lies one mile east of Sky.
SCALPA FLOW, a large expanse of water among
the Orkney Islands, resembling a small sea, about
fifty miles in circumference; surrounded by
twelve islands, through which are several out-
lets to the Pentland Frith, Atlantic and German
Oceans. During war it is a great thoroughfare
for vessels coming north ; and abounds with
safe harbours and road-steads for vessels of the
largest size. The chief entrance from the west
is through Hoy-mouth, and from the east through
Holme Sound. The tide at its entrance into
Scalpa Flow is remarkably rapid, but soon sub-
sides.
A SCALPEL is a kind of knife used in ana-
tomical dissections and operations in surgery.
SCALPING, in military history, a barbarous
custom practised by the American Indians, of
taking off the tops of the scalps of their enemies'
skulls with their hair on. They preserve them
as trophies of their victories, and are rewarded
by their chiefs according to the number of scalps
they bring in.
SCAMANDER, or SCAMANDROS, a celebrated
river of Troas, rising at the east end of Mount
Ida, and running into the sea below SigaeurrK
Homer says it was called Xanthus by the gods.
The goddesses Juno, Minerva, and Venus, are
fabled to have bathed in it, previous to their ap-
pearing before Paris, in the contest for the golden
apple. The Simois runs into it. It was a cus-
tom among the Phrygian brides to bathe them-
selves before marriage in this river. But this
superstitious ceremony was abrogated, in conse-
quence of Cimon an Athenian's having assumed
the disguise of a river god, and deflowering Ca-
lirrhoe, a noble virgin, at that time betrothed.
' The origin of this river,' says Dr. Clarke, ' is not
like the source of ordinary streams, obscure and
uncertain ; of doubtful locality and indetermi-
nate character ; ascertained with difficulty, among
various petty subdivisions in swampy places, or
amidst insignificant rivulets, falling from dif-
ferent parts of the same mountain, and equally
tributary ; it bursts at once from the dark womb
of its parent, in all the greatness of the divine
origin assigned to it by Homer. Our ascert, as
we drew near to the source of the river, became
steep and stony. Lofty summits towered above
us, in the greatest style of Alpine grandeur ; the
torrent, in its rugged bed below, all the while
foaming upon our left. Presently we entered
one of the sublimest natural amphitheatres the
eye ever beheld ; and here the guides desired us
to alight. The noise of waters silenced every
other sound. Huge craggy rocks rose perpen-
dicularly to an immense height; whose sides
and fissures to the very clouds, concealing their
tops, were covered with pines, growing in every
possible direction, among a variety of evergreen
shrubs, wild sage, hanging ivy, moss, and creep-
ing herbage. Enormous plane-trees waved their
vast branches above the torrent. As we ap-
proached its deep gulf, we beheld several cas-
9. A
SCA
cades all of foam, pouring impetuously from
chasms in the naked face of a perpendicular
rock. It is said the same magnificent cataract
continues during all seasons of the year, wholly
unaffected by the casualties of rain or melting
snow.'
SCAMANDER, in fabulous history, the son of
Corybas and Demodice, who brought a colony
from Crete into Phrygia, and settled at the foot
of Mount Ida, where he established the festivals
of Cybele. Being afterwards drowned in the
Xanthus, the river was named after him. He was
succeeded by his son Teucer: Diod. 4.
SCAM'BLE, v. n. Ital. scambilarc, from Lat.
scambus. To be turbulent or rapacious ; to
scramble.
Have fresh chaff in the bin,
And somewhat to scamble for hog and for hen.
Tnsser.
Scambling, out facing, fashion-mongering boys
That lie, and cog, and flout, deprave and slander.
Shakspeare.
He was no sooner entered into the town but a
scumbling soldier clapt hold of his bridle, which he
thought was in a begging or a drunken fashion.
Wotton.
Some scambling shifts may be made without them.
More.
My wood was cut in patches, and other parts of it
scambled, and cut before it was at its growth.
Mortimer.
SCAMMO'NIATE, adj. From scammony.
Made with scammony, a resinous juice.
It may be excited by a local scammnniate, or other
acrimonious medicines. Wiseman's Surgery.
SCAMMONY,a resinous gum, brought into this
country from Aleppo, in light spongy masses,
easily friable, of a shining ash- color verging to
black ; when powdered of a light gray or whitish
color : an inferior sort is brought from Smyrna,
in more compact ponderous pieces, of a darker
color, and full of sand and other impurities.
This juice is chiefly of the resinous kind ; proof
spirit totally dissolves it, the impurities only
being left. It has a faint unpleasant smell, and
a bitterish, somewhat acrimonious taste. Scam-
mony is an efficacious and strong purgative.
Some have condemned it as unsafe, and laid
sundry ill qualities to its charge; the principal
of which is, that its operation is uncertain, a full
dose proving sometimes ineffectual, whilst at
others a much smaller one occasions dangerous
hypercatharses. This difference is owing to the
different circumstances of the patient, and not
to any ill quality or irregularity of operation of
the medicine : where the intestines are lined
with an excessiye load of mucus, the scammony
passes without exerting itself upon them ; where
the natural mucus is deficient, a small dose of
this or any other resinous cathartic irritates and
inflames. Many have endeavoured tn abate the
force of this drug, and correct its imaginary vi-
ruknce, by exposing: it to the fume of sulphur,
dissolving it in acid juices, &c. ; but this can
only destroy a part of the medicine, without
altering the rest. Scammony in substance, judi-
ciously managed, needs no corrector: if tritu-
rated with sugar or almonds, it bfchmes snffi-
Iv ife and mild. It m,<v likewise be dis-
solved by figuration in a .ti<.n: cleioftion pt
SOA
liquorice, and then poured off from the fa?ces ;
the college of Wirtemberg assures us that by
this treatment it becomes mildly purgative, with-
out any inconveniences ; and that it also proves
inoffensive to the palate. The common dose is
from three to ten grains. According to the ana-
lysis of Vogel, Scammony consists of
Aleppo.
Smyrna.
Resin
60
29
Oum
3
8
Extractive ....
2
5
Vegetable debris and ^
earth . . . . J
35
58
100
100
SCAMOZZI (Vincent), a celebrated Italian
architect and writer, born at Vicenza in l.'i.vj.
He travelled through most parts of Europe, ami
was much employed in the chief cities of Italy.
He wrote a celebrated work, entitled Idea del'hi
Architecture Universale, 2 vols. folio, Venice,
1615. He died at Venice in 1616, aged sixty-
four.
SCAM'PER, v.n. Goth. sJcampa; Ital.so/;«-
pare. To fly with speed or trepidation.
A fox seized upon the fawn, and fairly scampered
away with him. L'Estrange.
Be quick, nay, very quick, or he'll approach,
And, as you're scampering, stop you in your coach.
King.
You will suddenly take a resolution, in your cabi-
net of Highlanders, to scamper off with your new
crown. Addison .
Close behind his heel
Now creeps he slow ; and now, with many a frisk
Wide-scampering, snatches up the drifted snow
With ivory teeth, or ploughs it with his snout ;
Then shakes his powdered coat, and barks for joy.
Camper.
SCAN, v. a. Fr. scandre ; Lat. scando. To
examine a verse by counting the feet : examine
nicely or formally.
So he goes to heaven,
And so am I revenged : that would be scanned.
Shaktpeare. Hamlet.
The rest the great architect
Did wisely to conceal ; and not divulge
His secrets to be scanned by them, who ought
Rather admire. Milton $ Paradise Lost
They scan their verses upon their fingers. Walsh.
Sir Roger exposing his palm, they crumbled it
into all shapes, and diligently scanned every wrinkle
that could be made in it. Addinm.
Every man has guilt, which he desires should not
DC rigorously scanned ; and therefore, by the rule of
charity and justice, ought not to do that which he
should not suffer. Government of the Tongue.
One moment and one thought migtit let him tcan
Tin' varions turns of life, and fickle state of man.
Prior.
The actions of men in high stations are all con-
spicuous, and liable to be scanned and sifted.
Atterltury.
At the final reckoning, when all men's actions
shall l>e scanned and judged, the great King shall
pass liis sentence, according to th« good men have
done, or neglected to do (alumy.
SCA
SCAN'DAL, M. s. & v. a. -v Fr. scandale ; Lat.
SCAN'DALIZE, v. a. I scandalwn ; Greek
SCAN'DALOUS, adj. > OKavSaXoV. Op-
SCAN'DALOUSLY, adv. i probrium ; offence
SCAN'DALOUSNESS, n.s. J given by the faults
of others ; aspersion ; calumny : to charge falsely ;
reproach : this is also sometimes the sense of scan-
dalize; at others it means to offend by some sup-
posed crime : the adjective, adverb, and noun-
substantive follow the senses of scandal.
I demand who they are whom we scandalize by
using harmless things ! Among ourselves that agree
in this use, no man will say that one of us is offen-
sive and scandalous unto another. Hooker.
Nothing scandalous or offensive unto any, especi-
ally unto the church of God : all things in order, and
with seemliness. M.
If black scandal, or foul-faced reproach,
Attend the sequel of your imposition,
Your mere enforcement shall acquittance me
From all the impure blots and stains thereof.
Shakspeare. Richard III.
I do fawn on men, and hug them hard,
And after tcandal them. Id. Julius Ceetar.
Something savouring
Of tyranny, which will ignoble make you,
Yea, scandalous to the world. Id. Winter'* Tale.
Thou do'st appear to scandalize
The publick right and common cause of kings.
Daniel.
It had the excuse of some bashfulness, and care
not to scandalise others. Hammond on Fundamentals.
Whoever considers the injustice of some ministers,
in those intervals of parliament, will not be scanda-
lized at the warmth and vivacity of those meetings.
Clarendon.
His lustful orgies he enlarged
Even to the hill of scandal, by the grove
Of Moloch homicide. Milton's Paradise Lost.
My known virtue is from scandal free,
And leaves no shadow for your calumny. Dryden.
Many were scandalized at the personal slander
and reflection flung out by scandalizing libellers.
Addison.
In the case of scandal, we are to reflect how man
ought to judge. Rogers'; Sermons.
You know the scandalous meanness of that pro-
ceeding, which was used. Pope.
Shun their fault, who, scandalously nice,
Will needs mistake an author into vice. Id.
His discourse at table was scandalously unbecoming
the dignity of his station ; noise, brutality, and ob-
sceneness. Sicift.
SC AND ALUM MAGNATUM, in law, is a de-
famatory speech or writing, to the injury of a
person of rank ; for which a writ, that bears this
name, is granted for the recovery of damages.
SCANDERBEG, the surname of George Cas-
triot, king of Albania, a province of Turkey in
Europe. He was delivered up wilh his three elder
brothers as hostages, by their father, to Amurath
TI., sultan of the Turks, who poisoned his brothers,
but spared him on account of his youth, being
likewise pleased with his juvenile wit and hand-
some person. In a short time he became one of
the most renowned generals of the age ; and, re-
volting from Amurath, he joined Hunniades, a
most formidable enemy of the Turks. He de-
feated the sultan's army, took Amu rath 's secre-
tary prisoner, obliged him to sign and seal an
order to the governor of Croia, the capital of
Albania, to deliver up the citadel and city to the
SCA
bearer of that order, in the name of the sultan.
Witli this forced order he repaired to Croiu ;
and recovered the throne of his ancestors, and
maintained the independency of his country
against the numerous armies of Amurath and
his successor Mohammed II., who was obliged
to make peace with him in 1461. He then went
to the assistance of Ferdinand of Arragon, at the
request of pope Pius II., and by his assistance
Ferdinand gained a complete victory over his
enemy the count of Anjou. Scanderbeg died in
1467.
SCANDINAVIA, a general name for the
countries of Norway, Sweden, and Denmark
The inhabitants of these countries, in former
times, were excessively addicted to war. From
their earliest years they applied themselves to
the military art, and accustomed themselves to
cold, fatigue, and hunger. Even the very sports
of youth and childhood were dangerous. They
consisted in taking frightful leaps, climbing up
the steepest rocks, righting naked with offensive
weapons, wrestling with the utmost fury ; so that
it was usual to see them terrible in the combat
at the age of fifteen. At this early age the young
men became their own masters ; when they re-
ceived a sword, a buckler, and a lance. This
ceremony was performed at some public meet-
ing. One of the principal men of the assembly
named the youth in public ; after which he was
obliged to provide for his own subsistence, and
was either now to live by hunting, or by joining
in some incursion against the enemy. Great
care was taken to prevent the young men from
too early connexions with the female sex ; and
indeed they could have no hope to gain the af-
fection of the fair, but in proportion to the cou-
rage and address they had shown in their military
exercises. Accordingly, in an ancient song, we
find Bartholin, king of Norway, extrenre'y sur-
prised that his mistress should prove unkind, as
he could perform eight different exercises. The
children were generally born in camps; and,
being inured from their infancy to behoid nothing
but arms, effusion of blood, and slaughter, they
imbibed the cruel disposition of their fathers;
and, when they broke forth upon other nations,
behaved rather like furies than human creatures.
The laws of this people, in some measure, re-
sembled those of the ancient Lacedemonians.
They knew no virtue but bravery, and no vice
but cowardice. The greatest penalties were in-
flicted on such as fled from battle. The laws of
the ancient Danes declared such persons infa-
mous, and excluded them from society. Amontr
the Germans, cowards were sometimes suffocated
in mud ; after which they were covered over with
hurdles, to show, says Tacitus, that though the
punishment of crimes should be public, there are
certain degrees of cowardice and infamy which
ought to be buried in oblivion. Frotho king oi
Denmark enacted, by law, that whoever solicited
an eminent post, ought upon all occasions to
attack one enemy, to face two, to retire only one
step back from three, and never to make an
actual retreat till assaulted by four. The rules
of justice were adapted and warped to these
prejudices. War was looked upon as a real act
of justice, and force was thought to be an i&con-
2 A2
SCA
350
SCA
testable title over the weak, and a visible mark
that God had intended them to be subject to the
strong. Lastly, their religion, by annexing eter-
nal happiness to the military virtues, gave the
utmost possible degree of vigor to that propensity
which these people had for war, and to their
contempt of death, of which many instances are
recorded. Harold, surnamed Blaatand, or Blue-
tooth, a king of Denmark, who lived in the be-
ginning of the ninth century, had founded on the
coasts of Pomerania a city named Julin or
Jomsburg. In this colony it was forbidden to
mention the word fear, eren in the most immi-
nent dangers. No citizen of Jomsburg was to
yield to any number of enemies, however great.
The sight of inevitable death was not to be an
excuse for showing the smallest apprehension.
Neither was this intrepidity peculiar to the inha-
bitants of Jomsburg ; it was the general character
of all the Scandinavians. To die with his arms
in his baud was the ardent wish of every free
man ; and the high idea which they had of this
kind of death led them to dread such as pro-
ceeded from old age and disease. The warriors
who found themselves lingering in disease, often
availed themselves of their few remaining mo-
ments to shake off life, by a way that they sup-
posed to be more glorious. Some of them would
be carried into a field of battle that they might
die in the engagement ; others slew themselves.
Many procured this melancholy service to be
performed by their friends, who considered it as
a most sacred duty.
SCANDIX, shepherd's needle, or Venus comb,
in botany, a genus of the digynia order, and pen-
tandria class of plants; natural order forty -fifth,
umbellate : COR. radiating ; the fruit subulated ;
the petals emarginated ; the florets of the disc
frequently male. The most remarkable species
is the
S. odorata, with angular furrowed seeds. It
is a native of Germany, and has a very thick
perennial root, composed of many fibres of a
sweet aromatic taste, like aniseed, from which
come forth many large leaves that branch out
somewhat like those of fern, whence it is named
sweet fern. The stalks grow four or five feet
high, are fistulous and hairy; the flowers are
disposed in an umbel at the top of the stalk, are
of a white color, and have a sweet aromatic
scent. This species is easily propagated by
seeds, which, if permitted to scatter, will supply
an abundance of young plants, that may be put
into any part of the garden, and require no care.
SCANIA, or SCHONEN, a province of South
Gothland, Sweden, bounded on the south by the
Baltic, and on the west by the Sound. The
latter separates it from Denmark. Its ) -ngth
from north to south is above sixty-five mi. »s, its
breadth from east to west above fifty. It com-
prises the most pleasant, as well as most fertile,
country in Sweden ; and consists of gentle emi-
nences, which, in the interior, are covered with
wood, and of fertile plains and valleys, producing
abundance of corn and pasturage. Cattle and
horses are considerably larger here than in the
northern provinces of Sweden. The principal
mineral products are alum, sulphur, coal, chalk,
and lead. The inhabitants also export oak tim-
ber, hemp, and cordage, as well as horses, sheep, •
and cattle. The fisheries are productive. Scania
was in remote ages independent; it was after-
wards in the possession of Denmark, but was
ceded to Sweden, along with the adjoining
provinces of Blekingen and Halland, at the
peace of lloschild, in 1658. The Danes at-
tempted to re-conquer it after the adventures of
Charles XII. ; but an army of 50,000 peasants
baffled their attempts. It is now divided into
the provinces or hens of Christianstadt and
Malmohus. Population 260,000.
SCANNING, in poetry, the measuring of verse
by feet, in order to see whether or not the quan-
tities be duly observed. Thus an hexameter
verse is scanned by resolving it into six feet ; a
pentameter, by resolving it into five feet, &c.
SCANT, v.a.,adj., 8c adv.^\ Sax. jerceanan«
SCAN'TV, adj. to break ; Goth.
SCAN'TILY, adv. \dumt. To limit;
SCAN'TINESS, n. s. 1 straiten : the ad-
SCANT'LET, ' jective signifies
SCANT'LING, scarce ; limited :
SCANT'LY, adv. hence not liberal ;
SCANT'NESS, n. s. J wary: as an ad-
verb (obsolete), scarcely ; hardly : scanty is nar-
row ; confined ; small : hence poor ; not copious
or full ; sparing: the adverb and noun-substan-
tive corresponding : scantlet and scantling sig-
nify a small piece or pattern ; a small or given
quantity : scantly is synonymous with scant,
adverb, and scantness with scan i ness.
You think
I will youi serious and great business scant,
For she is with me. Shakspeare. Othello.
From this time,
Be somewhat tcanter of your maiden presence.
Shtikipeare.
He spoke
Scantily of me, when perforce he could not
But pay me terms of honour. Id.
The success,
Although particular, shall give a scantling
Of good or bad unto the general. Id.
The people, beside their travail, charge, and long
attendance, received of the bankers scant twenty
shillings for thirty. Camden's Remains.
England, in the opinion of the popes, was pre-
ferred, because it contained in the ecclesiastical divi-
sion two large provinces, which had their several
legati nati ; whereas France had tcantly one. Id.
They need rather to be scanted in their nourish-
ments than replenished to have them sweet.
Bacon's Natural History.
White is a penurious colour, and where moistuie
is «cant .- so blue violets, and other flowers, if the*
be starved, turn pale and white. .Bacon.
He was a man fierce, and of no evil disposition,
saving that he thought scantiness of estate too great
an evil. Ilayward.
A single violet transplant :
The strength, the colour, and the size,
All which before was poor and scant,
Redoubles still and multiplies. Donne.
A wild pamphlet, beside other malignities, would
tcant allow him to be a gentleman. Wotlvn.
We want read in any writer, that there have been
seen any people upon the south coast.
Abbot's Description of the World.
Reduce desires to narrow scantlings and small
pioportions. Taylor's Rule of Holy Living.
SCA
357
SCA
To find out that,
In such a tcant allowance of star-light,
Would over task the best land-pilot's art. Milton.
While the world was but thin, the ages of man-
kind were longer ; and, as the world grew fuller, so
their lives were successively reduced to a shorter
scantlet, till they came to that time of life which they
now have. Hale.
Looking on things through the wrong end of the
perspective, which scants their dimensions, we neglect
and contemn them. Glanville't Scepsis.
Did we but compare the miserable scantnest of our
capacities with the vast profundity of things, truth
and modesty would teach us wary language. Id.
I am scanted in the pleasure of dwelling on your
actions. Dryden.
Virgil has sometimes two of them in a line ; but
the scantineis of our heroic verse is not capable of
receiving more than one. Id.
A scemtliny of wit lay gasping for life, and groan-
ing beneath a heap of rubbish. Id.
My eager love, I'll give myself the lye ;
The very hope is a full happiness.
Yet scant ly measures what 1 shall possess-. Id.
Tis hard to find out a woman that's of a just
. What can 'scape the eye
Of God all-seeing'? Mtitor.
Thou lurk'st
In valley or green meadow, to way-lay
Some beauty rare, Calisto, Clymene ;
Too long thou laid'st thy scapes on names adored. Id.
Could they not fall unpity'd on the plain,
But slain revive, and, taken, scape again? Dryden.
SCAPE-GOAT, in Jewish antiquity, the goat
which was set at liberty on the day of solemn
expiation. For the ceremonies on this occasion,
see Levit. xvi. 5, 6, fcc. Some say that a piece
of scarlet cloth, in form of a tongue, was tied on
the forehead of the scape-goat. — Hoff. Lex. Univ.
in voc. Lingua. Many have been the disputes
among the interpreters concerning the meaning
of the word scape-goat ; or rather of Azazel, for
which scape-goat is put in our version of the
Bible. Spencer believes Azaz.el to be a proper
name, viz. that of the evil spirit, to which he
conceives the goat to have been devoted. He
observes that the ancient Jews used to substi-
tute the name Samael for Azazel ; and many of
them have ventured to affirm that at the feast of
icantKng for her age, hnmour, and fortune, to make ' »"' v,- T -A. «
a wife ff L'Estrange. expiation they were obliged to otler a gift to Sa-
in this narrow scantling of capacity, we enjoy but mael to obtain his favor. Thus arso the goat,
one pleasure at once. Locke.
As long as one can increase the number, he will
think the idea he hath a little too scanty for positive
infinity. Id.
Their language being scanty and accommodated
only to the few necessaries of a needy simple life,
had no words in it to stand for a thousand. Id.
Alexander was much troubled at the scanti«e« of
nature itself, that there were no more worlds for him
to disturb. South.
There remained few marks of the old tradition, so
they had narrow and scanty conceptions of Provi-
dence. Woodward.
O'er yonder hill does scan* the dawn appear.
Gay.
Now scantier limits the proud arch confine,
And scarce are seen the prostrate Nile and Rhine :
A small Euphrates through the piece is rolled
And little eagles wave their wings in gold. Pope.
They with such scanty wages pay
The bondage and the slavery of years. Swift.
In illustrating a point of difficulty, be not too
scanty of words, but rather become copious in your
language. Watts.
A. Patriots, alas ! the few that can be found,
Where most they flourish upon English ground,
The country's need have scantily supplied,
And the last left the scene when Chatham died.
Cowper.
SCAPE, v. a., v. n., & n. s. Contracted from
escape. To miss ; avoid ; shun ; not to incur ;
to fly ; get away : an escape.
What, have I scaped love-letters in the holyday
time of my beauty, and am I now a subject for them 1
Shaktpeare.
I spoke of most disastrous chances,
Of hair-breadth scapes in the imminent deadly
breach. Id.
No natural exhalation in the sky,
No scape of nature, no distempered day,
But they will pluck away its natural cause,
And call them meteors, prodigies, and signs. Id.
Having purposed falsehood, you
Can have no way but falsehood to be true !
Vain lunatick, against these «•«;*« I could
Dispute, and conquer, if I would. Donne.
sent into the wilderness to Azazel, was under-
stood to be a gift or oblation. Some Christians
have been of the same opinion. But Spencer
thinks that the genuine reasons of the ceremony
were, 1. That the goat, loaded with the sins of
the people, and sent to Azazel, might be a sym-
bolical representation of the miserable condition
of sinners. 2. God sent the goat thus loaded to
the evil daemons, to show that they were impure*
thereby to deter the people from any conversa-
tion or familiarity with them. 3. That the goat
sent to Azazel, sufficiently expiating all evils,
the Israelites might the more willingly abstain
from the expiatory sacrifices of the Gentiles.
Le Clerc is of opinion that Azazel was the name
of a place, either a mountain or a cliff, at which
the goat waited, and thence, as the rabbins say,
was cast down and slain. But the most common
opinion is, that Azazel is a name given to the
goat itself, on account of its being let go, as
being derived from TJ? gnez or az, goat, and *?lb
azel, he hath gone away. Thus it was under-
stood by our translators, who render it scape-
goat ; the Septuagint likewise render it aTroiroft-
<uoc, and the Vulgate emissarius.
SCAPEMENT, in clock and watch work, a
general term for the method, whatever it may be,
of communicating the impulse of the wheels to
the pendulum or balance. The ordinary scape-
ments consist of the swing-wheel and pallets
only ; but modern improvements have added
other levers or detents, chiefly for the purposes of
diminishing friction, or for detaching the pendu -
lum from the pressure of the wheels during part
of the time of its vibration. See WATCHES.
SCAPULA, n. s. Lat. scapula. The shoulder
blade.
The heat went off from the parts, and spread
up higher to the breast and scapula. Wiseman.
The humours dispersed through the branches of
the axillary artery to the scaputary branches.
Id. of Ulcers.
The viscera were counterpoised with the weight of
the tcapular part. Derham .
SCA
358
SCA
, in anatomy. See ANATOMY.
(John), the reputed author of a
Greek lexicon, noted only for a gross act of
literary fraud. Being employed by Henry Ste-
phens as a corrector to his press, while he was
publishing his Thesaurus Linguae Graecae, Scapula
extracted those words and explications which he
reckoned most useful, comprised them in one
volume, and published them as an original work,
with his own name. The compilation and print-
ing of the Thesaurus had cost Stephens immense
labor and expense ; but it was so much admired
by those learned men to whom he had shown it,
and seemed to be of such essential importance to
the acquisition of the Greek language, that he
reasonably hoped his labor would be rewarded
by success, and the money he had expended
would be repaid by a rapid and extensive sale.
Hut, before his work came abroad, Scapula's
abridgment appeared ; which, from its size and
price, was quickly purchased, while the Thesau-
rus itself lay neglected in the author's hands.
The consequence was, a bankruptcy on the part
of Stephens, while he who had occasioned it was
enjoying the fruits of his treachery. Scapula's
Lexicon was first printed in 1570, in 4to. It
was afterwards enlarged and published in folio,
and has gone through several editions. Its suc-
cess is, however, not owing to its superior merit,
but to its price and commodious size. Stephens
charges the author with omitting many important
articles. He accuses him of misunderstanding
and perverting his meaning ; and of tracing out
absurd and trifling etymologies, which he himself
had been careful to avoid. Doctor Busby would
never permit his scholars at Westminster School
to make use of Scapula's lexicon.
SCAPULAR, in anatomy, the name of two pairs
of arteries, and as many veins.
SCAPULAR, or SCAPULARY, a part of the habit
of several religious orders in the church of Rome,
worn over the gown as a badge of peculiar vene-
ration for the Blessed Virgin. It consists of two
narrow slips or breadths of cloth covering the
back and the breast, and hanging down to the
feet. The devotees of the scapulary celebrate
their festival on the 10th of July.
SCAR, n. s. 8c v. a. Fr. escarre ; Gr. ((rgapa.
A mark made by a hurt ; a cicatrix : to mark in
this way.
Yet I'll not shed her blood,
Nor tear that whiter skin of tier's than snow,
And smooth as monumental alabaster. Shabtpeare.
Scratch thee but with a pin, and there remains
Some tear of it. Id. As You Like It.
The soft delicious air,
To heal the scars of these corrosive fires,
Shall breathe her bairn. Milton.
It may be struck out of the omnisciency of God,
and leave no tear nor blemish behind. More.
This earth had the beauty of youth and blooming
nature, and not a wrinkle, scar, or fractuie on all its
body. But-net.
In a hemorrhage from the lungs, stypticks are of-
ten insignificant ; and if they could operate upon the
affected part, so far as to make a scar, when that fell
off, the disease would return. Arbuthnot on Diet.
The boughs <*ave way. and did not tear
My limbs ; ana I found strength to bear
Mv wounds, already scarr'd with cold—
My bonds forbade to loose my hold. Byron.
SCAR'AB, n. s. l"r. scarabee ; Lat. scarabgus.
A beetle; an insect with sheathed wings.
A small scarab is bred in the very tips of elm-
leaves : these leaves may be observed to be dry and
dead, as also turgid, in which lieth a dirty, whitish,
rough maggot, from which proceeds a beetle.
Derham's Physico- Theoli-gy.
SCARAB./EUS, the beetle, in zoology, a genus
of insects of the coleoptera order. The antenna?
are of a clavated figure, and fissile longitudi-
nally : the legs are frequently dentated. See
ENTOMOLOGY. The wing-cases prevent the va-
rious injuries their real wings might sustain by
rubbing or crushing against the sides of their
abode. These, though they do not assist flight,
yet keep the internal wings clean and even, and
produce a loud buzzing noise when the animal
rises in the air. The scarabseus sacer is very
often found on Egyptian monuments. It is re-
presented on the Isiac table; and is frequent
among hieroglyphics : it passed as the symbol
of immortality, and as the emblem of the sun.
Another species was consecrated to Isis, and in-
dicated the moon ; its two horns resembling the
crescent of that planet. According to Caylus,
the Egyptians were in the constant habit of
giving the shape of the scarabaeus to their amu-
lets or rings.
1. S. capricornus, the small gilded Capricorn,
is of a true gold color, but in some lights has a
cast of green and purple. It is often found
among reeds by the banks of rivers (Lister). A
variety of this species^ but which Lister makes a
distinct species, called the yellow Capricorn, hus
a large black spot on each of the cases of the
wings. It is found among the dry hay in
April.
2. S. carnifex, which the Americans call the
tumble-dung, is all over of a dusky black, and,
though not much larger than the common black
beetle, is the strongest of the beetle kind. Their
excellent smell directs them in flights to excre-
ments, which they form into round balls or pel-
lets, in the middle of which they lay an egg.
These pellets, in September, they convey three
feet deep in the earth, where they lie till the ap-
proach of spring, when the eggs are hatched and
burst their nests, and the insects find their w;i\
out of the earth. They assist each other with
indefatigable industry in rolling these globular
pellets to the place where they are to be buried.
This they perform willi the tail foremost by
shoving along the ball with their hind feet. They
are always accompanied by other beetles of a
larger size, and of a more elegant structure and
color. The breast of this is covered with a shield
of a crimson color, and shining like metal ; the
head is of the like color, mixed with green ; and
on the crown of the head stands a shining bl;ick
horn, bending backwards. Hence these are
called the kings of the beetles, though they par
take of the same dirty drudgery with the rest.
3. S. cerambyx, the musk beetle, is one of the
most beautiful of Jhe English beetles. The male
is much smaller than the female, and is of a
mixed color of purple and gold ; the female i:-
more of a green color; the horns of the mal»-
also consist of longer joints ; and in both
the horns hang over the back, ai>H .-"•« 'r-nffei
SCA
3,59
SCA
lltan the whole body. They are found among
old willows, and often in the very wood. They
are most numerous in July. They make a
mournful sound when taken. See ENTOMOLOGY.
4. S. Hercules, the elephant beetle, is the
largest of this kind hitherto known ; and is
found in South America, particularly in Guinea
and Surinam, as well as about the river Oro-
nooko.
SCAR'AMOUCH, n. s. Fr. escaramouche,
A buffoon in motley dress.
It makes the solemnities of justice pageantry, and
the bench reverend puppets, or scaramouches in
scarlet. Collier.
SCARBOROUGH, a town of Yorkshire, in
the North Riding, seated on a steep rock, almost
inaccessible except towards the west. On the
top of this rock is a large green plain, with two
wells of fresh water springing out of the rock.
The town is well built ; the principal streets are
spacious and well paved, and the houses in ge-
neral have a handsome appearance. A fine range
of buildings on the cliff, commands a charming
view. There is a commodious quay, and one
of the finest harbours in the kingdom ; to which
belong many ships employed in the coal trade,
from Newcastle to London. The harbour is pro-
tected by vast piers, extending a considerable
way into the sea. A barrack has been erected
here, with a strong battery of eighteen-pounders
to protect the shipping. Scarborough has an
excellent hospital for the widows of poor sea-
men, maintained by a rate on vessels, and a
small deduction from seamen's wages ; also an
asylum for aged and infirm persons; an ami-
cable society for clothing and educating about
seventy boys and girls ; a Lancasterian school,
and numerous other benevolent institutions. It
is a town corporate, governed by two bailiffs, a
recorder, two coroners, four chamberlains, and
thirty-six common councilmen, and has sent two
members to parliament since the reign of Ed-
ward I. who are elected by the corporation. It
has been principally frequented on account of
its mineral waters, called the Scarborough Spa.
The spring was under the cliff, part of which fell
down in 1 737, and the water was lost ; but, in
clearing away the ruins to rebuild the wharf, it
was recovered. These waters are chalybeate and
purging. When they are poured out of one glass
into another, they throw up a number of air
bubbles ; and if they are shaken for some time
in a phial close stopped, and the phial be sud-
denly opened before the commotion ceases, they
emit an elastic vapor, with an audible noise,
which shows that they abound in carbonic acid
gas. At the fountain they have a brisk, pungent,
chalybeate taste ; but they lose their chalybeate
virtues by exposure and by keeping. A person
resides at the spa during the season, and receives
a subscription from each person, one-eighth of
which goes to the water servers, &c., and the
rest to the corporation. Assemblies and balls
are held at Scarborough as at Tunbridge. See
MINERAL WATERS.
SCARCE, adj. & adv.-\ Ital. scarso ; of Lat.
SCARCE' LY, adv. f careo. Scanty ; not
SCARCE'NESS. n. s. I plentiful; rare : scan-
SCAR'CITY. 'tily; hardly; with
difficulty : this is also the sense of scarcely :
scarceness and scarcity mean want, scantiness,
smallness of quantity ; rareness.
A thing which we so little hoped to see, that even
they which beheld it Jone scarcely believed their own
senses. Hooker.
They that find fault with our store, should be least
willing to reprove our scarcity of thanksgivings. Id.
When we our betters see bearing our woes,
We scarcely think our miseries our foes. Shakspeare
Scarcity aud want shall shun you ;
Ceres' blessing so is on you. Id.
You neither have enemies, nor can scarce have
any. Dryden.
He scarcely knew him, striving to disown
His blotted form, and blushing to be known. Id.
Raphael writes thus concerning his Galatea : —
To paint a fair one, 'tis necessary for me to see many
fair ones ; but, because there is so great a scarcity of
lovely women, I am constrained to make use of one
certain idea, which I have formed in my fancy.
Id. Dufresnoy.
A Swede will no more sell you his hemp for less
silver, because you tell him silver is scarcer now in
England, and therefore risen one-fifth in value, than
a tradesman of London will sell his commodity
cheaper to the Isle of Man, because money is tcarce
there. Locke.
Corn does not rise or fall by the differences of
more or less plenty of money, but by the plenty and
scarcity that God sends. Id.
Age, which unavoidably is but one remove from
death, and consequently should have nothing about
it but what looks like a decent preparation for it,
scarce ever appears, of late days, but in the high
mode, the flaunting garb, and utmost gaudery of
youth. South.
The scarcest of all is aPescennius Niger on a me-
dallion well preserved. Addison.
In this grave age, when comedies are few,
We crave your patronage for one that's new,
And let the scarceness recommend the fare. Id.
They drink very few liquors that have not lain in
fresco, insomuch that a scarcity of snow would raise
a mutiny at Naples. Id.
Since the value of an advantage is enhanced by
its scarceness, it is hard not to give a man leave to
love that most which is most serviceable.
Collie)- on Pride.
SCARE, v*. a. ~\ Italian, scorare — Skinner ;
SCARE'CROW, > Goth, skoar, fright — Thom-
SCARE'FIRE. j son. To frighten; terrify;
to strike with sudden fear : the compounds cor-
responding.
Thereat the scarecrow waxed wond'rous proud,
Through fortune of his first adventure fair,
And with big thundering voice reviled him loud.
Spenser.
They have scared away two of my best sheep,
which, I fear, the wolf will sooner find than the
master. Shakspeare.
We must not make a scarecrmo of the law,
Setting it up to fear the birds of prey,
And let it keep one shape, 'till custom make it
Their pearch, and not their terrour. Id.
Many of those great guns, wanting powder and
shot, stood but as cyphers and sra recruit's. Raleigh.
Scarecrows are set up to keep birds from corn and
fruit ; and some report that the head of a wolf, whole,
dried, and hanged up in a dove-house, will scare
away vermin. Bacon.
The wing of the Irish was so grievously either
galled or icared therewith, that, being strangers.
SCA
360
SCA
and in a manner neutrals, they had neither good
heart to go forward, nor good liking to stand still,
nor good assurance to tun away. Haytoard.
The drum and trumpet, by their several sounds,
serve for many kind of advertisements ; and bells
serve to proclaim a $carefire, and in some places wa-
ter-breaches. Holder.
A scarecrow set to frighten fools away. Dryden.
Let wanton wives by death be scar'd :
But, to my comfort, I'm prepar'd. Prior.
One great reason why men's good purposes so of-
ten fail, is, that when they are devout, or scared,
they then in the general resolve to live religiously.
Calamy's Sermons.
SCARF, n. s. & v. a. ) Fr. escharfe. Any
SCARF'SKIN. \ thing that hangs loose
upon the shoulders or dress : the epidermis.
The matrons flung their gloves,
Ladies and maids their scarfs and handkerchiefs,
Upon him as he passed. Shakspeare. Coriolanus.
Will you wear the garland about your neck, or
under your arm like a lieutenant's scarf?
Shakspeare.
My sea-gown icarf about me in the dark
Groped I to find them out. Id. Hamlet.
How like a younker, or a prodigal
The icarfed bark puts from her native bay,
I lugg'd and embraced by the strumpet wind ! Id.
Come, feeling night,
Scarf up the tender eye of pitiful day. Id.
Iris there, with humid bow,
Waters the' odorous banks, that blow
Flowers of more mingled hew
Than her purfled scarf can shew. Milton.
Titian, in his triumph of Bacchus, having placed
Ariadne on one of the borders of the picture, gave
her a scarf of a vermilion colour upon a blue dra-
pery. Dryden.
The ready nymphs receive the crying child ;
They swathed him with their scarfs. Id.
My learned correspondent writes a word in defence
of large scarves. Spectator.
The scarfskin, being uppermost, is composed of
several lays of small scales, which lie thicker ac-
cording as it is thicker in one part of the body than
another : between these the excretory ducts of the
miliary glands of the true skin open. Cheyne.
Put on your hood and *carf, and take your plea-
sure. Swift.
SCARFING, a term in carpentry, by which
is meant the joining of two beams of wood toge-
ther to increase the length. See CARPENTRY.
SCARFSKIN. See ANATOMY.
SCAR'IFY, v. a. } Fr. scarcer; Latin
SCARIFICA'TION, n. s- Sscari/rro. To let blood
SCAR'IFIER. J by incisions of the
skin : the act of doing so : the agent or instru-
ment.
Hippocrates tells you, that, in applying of cups,
the scarification ought to be made with crooked in-
struments. Arbuthnut.
Washing the salts out of the eschar, and scari-
fying it, I dressed it. Wiseman's Surgery.
You quarter foul language upon me, without
knowing whether 1 deserve to be cupped and wvm-
jted at this rate. Spectator.
SCAR'LET, n.s. St. adj. Fr. escarlate ; Ital.
tcarlato. A color compounded of red and yel-
low ; cloth dyed with a scarlet color ; of this
color.
If we live thus tamely,
To be thus jaded by a piece of tcarlet,
Farewel nobility. Shakspeare. Henry VIII.
I conjure thee,
By hei high forehead, and her scarlet lip.
Shalupeare.
The Chinese, who are of an ill complexion, being
olivaster, paint their cheeks scarlet. Bacon.
As a bull
Amid' the circus roars ; provoked from far
By sight of scarlet and a sanguine war. Dryden.
The scarlet honour of your peaceful gown. Id.
Would it not be insufferable for a learned profes-
sor, and that which his scarlet would blush at, to
have his authority of forty years standing in an in-
stant overturned ? Locke.
SCARLET (see DYEING), in painting in water
colors, minium mixed with a little vermilion
produces a good scarlet; but if a flower in a
print is to be painted a scarlet color, the lights
as well as the shades should be covered with
minium, and the shaded parts finished with car-
mine, which will produce an admirable scarlet.
SCARLET is a beautiful bright red color given
to cloth, either by a preparation of kermes, or
more completely by the American cochineal.
Professor Beckmann, in the second volume of his
History of Inventions, has drawn the following
conclusions: — 1. That scarlet, or the kermes
dye, was known in the east in the earliest ages,
before Moses, and was a discovery of the Phoe-
nicians in Palestine. 2. Tola was the ancient
Phoenician name used by the Hebrews, and even
by the Syrians ; for it is employed by the Syrian
translator, Isaiah, chap. i. ver. 18. Among the
Jews, after their captivity, the Aramaaan word
zehorti was more common. 3. The Arabs re-
ceived the name kermes, with the dye, from Ar-
menia and Persia, where it was indigenous, and
had been long known ; and that name banished
the old name in the east, as the name scarlet has in
the west. About 1643 a Fleming named Kepler
established the first dye-house for scarlet in Eng-
land, at the village of Bow, near London ; and
on that account the color was called, at first, by
the English, the Bow dye. In 1667 another
Fleming, named Brewer, invited to England by
king Charles II. with the promise of a large sa-
lary, brought this art to great perfection. There
are three kinds of scarlet : one, called Venetian
scarlet, dyed with hermes ; another, dyed with
cochineal ; and the third with gum lac. The first
of these is chiefly used for tapestry, and is re-
markably permanent.
SCARLET FEVER. See MEDICINE.
SCAR'MAGE, or J For skirmish. Spen-
SCAR'MOGE, n. s. j ser.
Such cruel game my scarnages disarms ;
Another war, and other weapons, I
Do love, when Love does give his sweet alarms.
Spenser.
SCARPANTO, or Koje, the ancient Carpa-
thos, an island in the Mediterranean, between
Candia and Rhodes. It is for the most part
rocky and mountainous, but contains several
good harbours, iron mines, and quarries of marble.
Long. 26° 50* E., lat. 35° 44' N.
SCARRON (Paul), a famous French burlesque
writer, was the son of a counsellor in parliament,
SCA u
and was born in Paris about the end of 1610, or
beginning of 1611. His father marrying a se-
cond wife, he was compelled to assume the
ecclesiastical habit. At the age of twenty-four
he visited Italy, and after his return to Paris
continued a life of reckless dissipation. But in
1638 while attending the carnival at Mens, of
which place he was a canon, having dressed
himself as a savage, his singular appearance ex
cited the curiosity of the children of the town.
They followed him in multitudes, and he was
obliged to take shelter in a marsh, and this wet
and cold situa ion produced a numbness which
totally deprived him of the use of his limbs,
which he never again recovered. He took up
his residence in Paris, and the loss of his health
was followed by the loss of his fortune, in a law-
suit with his step-mother; and mademoiselle de
Hautefort, compassionating his misfortunes, pro-
cured for him an audience of the queen. The
poet requested to have the title of valetudinarian
to her majesty. The queen smiled, and Scarron
considered the smile as the commission to his
new office. Cardinal Mazarine gave him a pen-
sion of 500 crowns ; but that minister having
received disdainfully the dedication of his Ty-
phon, the poet immediately wrote a Mazarinade,
and the pension was withdrawn. He then at-
tached himself to the prince of Conde, and cele-
brated his victories. He at length formed the
extraordinary resolution of marrying, and was
accordingly, in 1651, married to madame d'Au-
bigne (afterwards the celebrated madame de
Maintenon), then only sixteen years of age. ' At
that time,' says Voltaire, ' it was considered as a
great acquisition for her to gain for a husband a
man who was disfigured by nature, and very little
enriched by fortune.' She restrained by her mo-
desty his indecent buffooneries, and the literary
men who had formerly resorted to his house
again frequented it. But he lived with so little
economy that his income was soon reduced to a
small annuity, and what he styled his marqui-
sate of Quinet, i. e. the profits of his publica-
tions, which were printed by one Quinet. Though
Scarron wrote comedies, he had not patience to
study the rules of dramatic poetry. It was the
fashion of the times to pillage the Spanish writers.
Scarron was acquainted with that language, and
he found it easier to use materials already pre-
pared, than to invent new subjects. The great suc-
cess of his Jodelet Maitre was a great allurement
to him. The comedians who acted it requested
more of his productions. They were written
with little toil, and procured him large sums.
Christina, queen of Sweden, when she visited
Paris, was anxious to see Scarron. ' I permit you,'
said she to Scarron, ' to fall in love with me.
The queen of France has made you her valetu-
dinarian, and I create you my Roland ' Scarron
did not long enjoy that title ; as he died on the
14th of October, 1660, aged . fifty-one. His
works have been collected and published by
Bruzen de la Martiniere, in 10 vols. 12mo., 1737.
These are, 1. The ./Eneid travestied, in eight
books. 2. Typhou, or the Gigantomachia. 3.
Many comedies; as Jodelet, or the Master
Valet; Jodelet cuffed ; Don Japhet d'Armenie ;
The Scholar of Salamanca. He also wrote other
til SCA
pieces in verse. 4. His Comic Romance, in
prose, merits attention. It is written with much
humor and purity of style. 5. Spanish Novels
translated into French. 6. A volume of Letters.
7. Poems ; consisting of Songs, Epistles, Stanzas,
Odes, and Epigrams. Scarron can raise a laugh
on the most serious subjects ; but his sallies are
rather those of a buffoon than the effusions of in-
genuity and taste. He is continually falling
into the mean and the obscene.
SCATH, v. a. & n. s. > Sax. j-ceafcan, j-ca-
SCATH'FUL, adj. $<San. To waste; da-
mage ; destroy : the damage or waste done : the
adjective corresponding. Both the verb and
noun are now obsolete.
The ear that budded fair is burnt and blasted,
And all my hoped gain is turned to scath. Spenser.
He bore a spiteful mind against king Edward, doing
him all the scath that he could, and annoying his
territories. Id.
They placed them in Rhodes, where daily doing
great scath to the Turk, the great warrior Soliman,
with a mighty army, so overlaid them, that he won
the island from them. Knottes.
A bawbling vessel was he captain of,
For shallow draught, and bulk unprizable,
\\ith which such scatliful grapple did he make,
That very envy, and the tongue of loss,
Cried fame and honour on him. Shakspeare.
Still preserved from danger, harm, and scath,
By many a sea and many an unknown shore.
Fairfax.
As when Heaven's fire
Hath scathed the forest oaks, or mountain pines,
With singed top their stately growth, though bare
Stands on the blasted heath. Milton's Paradite Lost.
SCATTER, v. a. } Sax. rcaterian; Belg.
SCAT'TERINGLY, adv. l-schatteren. To throw
SCAT'TERLING, n. s. j loosely about ; sprin-
kle ; squander : the adverb corresponding : scat-
terling is a vagabond ; one that has no home or
settled habitation. An elegant word, says John-
son, but disused.
Samuel came not to Gilgal, and the people were
Mattered from Saul. 1 Sam. xiii. 8.
A king that sitteth in the throne of judgment,
scaltereth away all evil with his eyes. Prov. xx. 8.
Such losels and scatterlings cannot easily, by any
ordinary officer, be gotten, when challenged for any
such fact. Spenser.
Sound diffuseth itself in rounds ; but if that which
would scatter in open air be made to go into a canal,
it gives greater force to the sound. Bacon.
The Spaniards have here and there scatteringly,
upon the sea-coasts, set up some towns. Abbot.
Adam by this from the cold sudden damp
Recovering, and his scattered spirits returned.
Milton.
Those drops of prettiness, scattering i/ sprinkled
amongst the creatures, were designed to defecate and
exalt our conceptions, not to inveigle or detain our
passions. Boyle.
Why should my muse enlarge on Libyan swains,
Their scattered cottages and ample plains 1 Dryden.
Teach the glad hours to scatter, as they fly,
Soft, quiet, gentle love, and endless joy. Prior.
Corruption, still
Voracious, swallowed what the liberal hand
Of beauty scattered o'er the savage year. Thomson.
The sun
Shakes from his noon-day throne the scattering
clouds. M
SCE
362
SCAVENGER, n. s. From Sax. rcapan, to
shave, perhaps to sweep. Once a petty magis-
trate, whose province was to keep the streets
clean : now the laborer employed in removing
filth.
Since it is made a labour of the mind, as to inform
men's judgments, and move their affections, to re-
solve difficult places of Scripture, to decide and clear
off controversies, I cannot see how to be a butcher,
scavenger, or any other such trade does at all qualify
men for this work. Smith.
Fasting 's Nature's scavenger. Baynard.
Dick the tcavenger, with equal grace,
Flirts from his cart the mud in Walpole's face.
Swift.
SCAURUS (M. ^Emilius), a Roman consul,
who distinguished himself by his eloquence at
the bar, as well as by his victories in Spain as a
general. He was sent against Jugurtha, but was
suspected of having been bribed by that monarch.
He, however, conquered the Ligurians, and,
during his censorship, built the Milvian bridge
at Rome, and paved the ./Emilian road. He
wrote several books, particularly his own life,
but none of them are extant.
SCAURUS (M. JEmilius), son of the preceding,
is famous for having a erected a large and grand
theatre at Rome, while he was acdile. It was so
capacious that it would contain 30,000 specta-
tors ; it was supported by 360 columns of mar-
ble, and adorned with 3000 brazen statues.
SCEL'ERAT, n.s. Lat. sceleratus. A vil-
lain ; a wicked wretch. A word introduced
unnecessarily from the French by a Scottish
author.
SceUratt can by no arts stifle the cries of a wound-
ded conscience. Cheyne.
SCELERATUS, in Roman antiquity, the
name given a street in Rome, formerly called
Cypriiis, from the horrible wickedness of Tullia,
the wife of Tarquin II., who ordered her cha-
rioteer to drive her chariot over the body of her
wounded father. See ROME. Also the name of
a plain at Rome, near the Colline gate, so
named from the Vestal Minucia being buried
alive in it for adultery.
SCENE', n. «. J Fr. scene ; Lat. scxna ; Gr.
SCF.X'ERY. J oKnvrj. The stage ; a theatre
of dramatic poetry: hence the. general ap-
pearance of any action ; a display ; a series ;
part of a play : the words are nearly synony-
mous.
The king is set from London, and the icene
Is now transported to Southampton. ShaJispeart.
The alteration of scenes feeds and relieves the eye,
before it be full of the same object. Bacon.
Cedar and pine, and fir and branching palm,
A sylvan scene ; and as the ranks ascend
Shade above shade, a woody theatre
Of stateliest view. Milton.
To make a more perfect model of a picture, is, in
the language of poets, to draw up the scenary of a
play. Dryden.
A mute tcene of sorrow, mixt with fear :
Still on the table lay the unfinished cheer. Id.
If his characters were good,
The scenes entire, and freed from noise and blood,
The action great, yet circumscribed by time,
The words not forced, but sliding into rhinie,
He thought, in hitting these his business done. Id.
He must gain a relish of the works of nature, and
SCE
be conversant in the various sceiutry of a country
life. Additon.
Eternity ! thou pleasing, dreadful thought !
Through what variety of untried beings,
Through what new scenes and changes must we pass !
Id.
Say, shepherd say, are these reflections true ?
Or was it but the woman's fear that drew
This cruel scene, unjust to love and you ? Prior.
Our author would excuse these useful scenes
Begotten at his entrance. Grtmville.
The progress of the sound, and the scenary of the
bordering regions, are imitated from JEn. vii. on the
sounding the horn of Alecto. Pope.
To complete
The tcene of desolation, stretched around
The grim guards stand. Thomson.
Tis well, if looked for at so late a day,
In the last scene of such a senseless play,
True wisdom will attend his feeble call,
And grace his action ere the curtain fall. Cotcper.
SCENE, in its primary sense, denoted a place
where dramatic pieces and other public shows
were exhibited. The original scene for acting
of plays was as simple as the representations
themselves ; it consisted only of a plain plot of
ground proper for the occasion, which was in
some degree shaded by the neighbouring trees,
whose branches were made to meet together, and
their vacancies supplied with boards, sticks, and
the like ; and, to complete the shelter, these were
sometimes covered with skins, and sometimes
with only the branches of other trees, newly cut
down and full of leaves. Afterwards more
artificial scenes, or scenical representations, were
introduced, and paintings used instead of the
objects themselves. Scenes were then of three
sorts; tragic, comic, and satiric. The tragic
scene represented stately magnificent edifices,
with decorations of pillars, statues, and other
things suitable to the palaces of kings. The
comic exhibited private houses with balconies
and windows, in imitation of common buildings ;
and the satiric was the representation of groves,
mountains, dens, and other rural appearances ;
and these decorations either turned on pivots, or
slid along grooves.
SCENE is also a part or division of a dramatic
poem. Thus plays are divided into acts, and
acts are subdivided into scenes. Whenever,
therefore, a new actor appears, or an old one
disappears, the 'action is changed into other
hands; and therefore a new scene then com-
mences.
SCEN'ICK, adj. Fr. scenique, from scene.
Dramatic; theatrical.
With ictnich virtue charm the rising age. Anon.
SCENOGRAPH'ICAL, adj. ) Gr.
SCENOGRAPH'ICALLY, adv. $ and
Drawn in perspective.
If the workman be skilled in perspective, more
than one face may be represented in our diagram
scenographically. Mortimer.
SCENT, n. *. & v.a. Fr. sentir, to smell ; Ital.
sentire. The power of smelling ; the smell ; the
object of smell ; chase by the smell : to smell ;
to perfume.
Belman cried upon it at the meerest loss,
And twice to-day picked out the dullest scent.
Shaktpeart.
SCEPTICS,
363
The plague, they report, hath a scent of the smell
of a mellow apple. Bacon.
Good scents do purify the brain,
Awake the fancy, and the wits refine. Davit.
Exulting, 'till he finds their nobler sense
Their disproportioned speed does recompense ;
Then curses his conspiring feet, whose scent
Betrays that safety which their swiftness lent.
Deiiham.
Partake
The season, prime for sweetest scents and airs.
Milton.
So scented the grim feature, and upturned
His nostrils wide into the murky air,
Sagacious of his quarry from so far. Id.
He gained the observations of innumerable ages,
and travelled upon the same scent into -(Ethiopia.
Temple.
I?alm, from a silver box, distilled around,
Shall all bedew the roots, and scent the sacred
ground. Dryden.
Actaeon spies
His opening hounds, and now he hears their cries ;
A generous pack, 01 to maintain the chase,
Or snuff the vapour from the scented grass.
Addiiim.
Cheerful health,
His duteous handmaid, through the air improved,
With lavish hand diffuses scents ambrosial. Prior.
A hunted hare treads back her mazes, crosses and
confounds her former track, and uses all possible
methods to divert the scent. Watts.
The crystal waters round us fa'
The merry birds are lovers a',
The scented breezes round us blaw,
A' wandering w' me Davie. Burns.
SCEPTICS, an ancient sect of philosophers,
founded by Pyrrho, who, according to Laertius,
had various other denominations. From their
master they were called Tyrrhenians ; from the
distinguishing tenets or characteristic of their
philosophy they derived the name of Apo-
retici, from aTroptiv, to doubt; from their
hesitation they were called ephetici, from
nrfxiiv, to stay or keep back ; and lastly, they
were called zetetici, or seekers, from their never
getting beyond the search of truth. That the
sceptical philosophy is absurd can admit of no
dispute in the present age; and that many of
the followers of Pyrrho carried it to the most
ridiculous height is no less true. But we can-
not believe that he himself was so extravagantly
sceptical as has sometimes been asserted, when
we reflect on the particula-s of his life, which
are still preserved, and the respectful manner in
\\hich we find him mentioned by his contempo-
raries, and writers of the first name who flourish-
ed soon after him. The truth, as far as at this
distance of time it can be discovered, seems to
be, that he learned from Democritus to deny the
real existence of all qualities in bodies, except
those which are essential to primary atoms, and
that he referred every thing else to the percep-
tions of the mind produced by external objects ;
in other words, to appearance and opinion. All
knowledge of course appeared to him to depend
on the fallacious report of the senses, and conse-
quently to be uncertain ; and in this notion he
•u'ns confirmed by the general spirit of the Eleatic
school in which he was educated. He was fur-
ronfirmed in his scepticism by the subtilties
"i thfl Dinlectic schools, m which te had l-nu
instructed by the son of Stilpo; choosing to
overturn the cavils of sophistry by recurring
to the doctrine of universal uncertainty, and thus
breaking the knot which he could not unloose ;
for, being naturally and habitually inclined to
consider immoveable tranquillity as the great
end of all philosophy, he was easily led to de-
spise the dissensions of the dogmatists, and to
infer, from their endless disputes the uncertainty
of the questions on which they debated ; contro
versy, as it has often happened to others, becom-
ing also with respect to him the parent of scep-
ticism. Pyrrho's doctrines, however new and
extraordinary, were not totally disregarded. lie
was attended by several scholars, and succeeded
by several followers, who preserved the memory
of his tenets. The most eminent of his follow-
ers was Timon, in whom the public succession
of professors in the Pyrrhonic school terminated.
In the time of Cicero it was almost extinct,
having suffered much from the jealousy of the
dogmatists, and from a natural aversion in the
human mind to acknowledge total ignorance, or
to be left in absolute darkness. The disciples of
Timon, however, still continued to profess scep-
ticism, and their notions were embraced privately
at least by many others. The school itself was
afterwards revived by Ptolemaeus, a Cyrenian,
and was continued by /Enesidemus, a contempo-
rary of Cicero, who wrote a treatise on the prin-
ciples of the Pyrrhonic philosophy, the heads
of which are preserved by Photius. A system
of philosophy thus founded on doubt, and
clouded with uncertainty, could neither teach
tenets of any importance, nor prescribe a certain
rule of conduct ; and accordingly we find that
the followers of scepticism were guided entirely
by chance. As they could form no certain judg-
ment respecting good and evil, they accidentally
learned the folly of eagerly pursuing any apparent
good, or of avoiding any apparent evil ; and their
minds of course settled into a state of undisturbed
tranquillity, the grand postulatum of their sys-
tem. In the schools of the sceptics we find ten
distinct topics of argument urged in support of
the doctrine of uncertainty; with this precau-
tion, however, that nothing could be positively
asserted, either concerning their number or their
force. These arguments chiefly respect objects
of sense ; they place all knowledge in appearance ;
and, as the same things appear very different to
different people, it is impossible to say which
appearance most truly expresses their real na-
ture. They likewise say that our judgment is
liable to uncertainty from the circumstance or
frequent or rare occurrence, and that mankind
are continually led into different conceptions
concerning the same thing by custom, law, fabu-
lous tales, and established opinions. On all
these accounts they think every human judgment
is liable to uncertainty ; and concerning any
thing they can only assert that it seems to be,
not that it is what it seems. This doubtful rea-
soning, if reasoning it may be called, the sceptics
extended to all the sciences in which they dis-
covered nothing true, or which could be abso-
lutely asserted. In all nature, in physics,
morals, and theology, they found contradictory
opinions ;IIK! in< n-hensihle
SCE
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phenomena. In physics the appearances they
thought might be deceitful ; and, respecting the
nature of God and the duties of morality, men
were, in their opinion, equally ignorant and un-
certain. But scepticism has not been confined
to the ancients and to the followers of Pyrrho.
Numerous sceptics have arisen in modern times,
varying in their principles, manners, and character,
as chance,'prejudice, vanity ,weakness, or indolence
prompted them. The great object, however,
which they seem to have had in view was to over-
turn, or at least to weaken, the evidence of analo-
gy, experience, and testimony; some of them
have even attempted to show that the axioms of
geometry are uncertain, and its demonstrations
inconclusive. Most of our readers must be well
acquainted with the essays of Hume, and with
the able confutations of them by doctors Reid,
Campbell, Gregory, and Beattie, who have like-
wise exposed the weakness of the sceptical rea-
sonings of Des Cartes, Malbranche, and other
philosophers of great fame in the same school.
SCEP'TRE, n. s. I Fr. sceptre ; Lat. scep-
SCEP'TERED, adj. $ trum. The ensign of
royalty borne in the hand : the adjective corres-
ponding.
Nor shall proud Lancaster usurp ray right,
Nor hold the sceptre in his childish fist.
Shakspeare.
How, best of kings, do'st thou a sceptre bear !
How, best of poets, do'st thou laurel wear !
But two things rare the fates had in their store,
And gave thee both, to shew they could no more.
Ben Jensen.
The court of Rome has, in other instances, so
well attested its good menagery, that it is not credi-
ble crowns and sceptres are conferred gratis.
Decay of Piety.
T sing the man who Judah's sceptre bore
In that right hand which held the crook before.
Cowley.
The parliament presented those acts which were
prepared by them to the royal sceptre, in which were
some laws restraining the extravagant power of the
nobility. Clarendon.
The sceptered heralds call
To council, in the city-gates.
Milton's Paradise Lost.
A shilling dipt in the bath may go for gold among
the ignorant, but the sceptres on the guinea show
the difference. Dryden.
To Britain's queen the sceptered suppliant bends,
To her his crowns and infant race commends.
Ticket.
The Lily's height bespoke command,
A fair imperial flower ;
She seemed designed for Flora's hand,
The tceptre of her power. Cowper.
Became religion, and the heart ran o'er
With silent worship of the great of old ! —
The dead but sceptered sovereigns, who still rule
Our spirits from their urns. Byron.
The SCEPTKE is a kind of royal staff, or ba-
toon, born on solemn occasions by kings, as a
badge of their command and authority. Nicod
derives the word from the Greek <r*ij7rrpov, which
he says originally signified 'a javelin,' which
the ancient kings usually bore as a badge of their
authority. But aKnirrpov does not properly sig-
nify a javelin, but a staff to rest upon, from
' I lean upon.' Accordingly, in the sim-
plicity of the earlier ages of the world, the scep-
tres of kings were no other than long walking
staves: and Ovid, in speaking of Jupiter, des-
cribes him as resting on his sceptre (Met. i. v.
178). The sceptre is an ensign of royalty of
greater antiquity than the crown. The Greek
tragic and other poets put sceptres in the hands
of the most ancient kings they ever introduce.
Justin observes that the sceptre, in its original,
was an hasta, or spear. He adds, that, in the
most remote antiquity, men adorned the hasta;
or sceptres as immortal gods ; and that it was>
upon this account, that, even in his time, they
still furnished the gods with sceptres. — Nep-
tune's sceptre is his trident. In process of
time, the king's sceptre became covered with
ornaments in copper, ivory, gold, or silver, and
also with symbolical figures. The sceptre borne
by the Roman emperors, as on their medals, 8cc.,
is surmounted, when these princes are in the con-
sular habit, with a globe topped by an eagle.
Phocas is imagined to have been the first who
added a cross to his sceptre ; and his successors
even substituted the former emblem for the
latter, bearing ornamented crosses alone. Richard
Cceur de Lion held in his right hand a golden
sceptre surmounted by a cross, and, in his left,
a golden baton, topped by the figure of a dove.
Tarquin the Elder was the first who assumed
the sceptre among the Romans. Le Gendre
tells us, that, in the first race of the French
kings, the sceptre was a golden rod, almost al-
ways of the same height with the king who bore
it, and crooked at one end like a crozier. Fre-
quently instead of a sceptre, kings are seen on
medals with a palm in their hand.
SCHAAF (Charles), a learned German, born
at Nuys, in the electorate of Cologn, in 16lf>.
His father was major in the army of the land-
grave of Hesse-Cassel. He studied divinity at
Duisbourg; and, having acquired the oriental
languages, became professor in that university in
1677. In 1679 he was invited to Leyden in the
same capacity, where he settled and died in
1729, of an apoplexy. He published several
works on oriental learning ; of which the prin-
cipal is his Grammatica Chaldaiaca et Syriaca.
SCH./EFFERA, in botany, a genus of the te-
trandria order, and dicecia class of plants : CAT .
quadripetalous : COR. quadripetalous, quinquepe-
talous, and often wanting ; the fruit is a bilocu-
lar berry with one seed. Of this there are two
species :
1 . S. completa, and S. latiflora, both natives
of Jamaica; and growing in the lowlands near
the sea.
SCH7ESBURG, a district of Transylvania,
belonging to the Saxons, lying along the great
Kockel. It contains 210 square miles, with
about 20,000 inhabitants. Though hilly, it has
no high mountains, and is divided into the Up-
per and Lower Circles, both of which have good
pasturage and vines.
SCHJESBURG, or SEGESVAR, a town of Transyl-
vania, situated near the Great Kockel. It is
divided into the Upper and Lower Town. The
former stands on a hill, nearly 250 feet in height,
and is fortified ; the latter is built on the plain,
and open. The inhabitants are chiefly Lutherans,
SCH
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and have here four churches, with a gymnasium.
The principal employments are the weaving of
linen, and spinning cotton. The environs pro-
duce vines and other fruit. The present town
was begun in 1178; but several ruins, and a
number of medals found, show that it was occu-
pied by the Romans. Forty-seven miles E. S. E.
of Clausenburg, and 120 north-east of Temesvar.
Inhabitants 6000.
SCHAFFBAUSEN, a fine town in the north
of Switzerland, situated near the frontiers of
Suabia, on the Rhine. Its buildings are the
large parish church of St. John, an academy
with seven professors, besides other teachers,
the town library, town-hall, and market house.
The transit trade of this place has long been
considerable, owing chiefly to its situation about
a league above the celebrated cataract of the
Rhine, which necessitates all the goods brought
down the river to be landed here. The manu-
factures are of silk, cotton, and leather, and are
considerable, and the wine raised in the neigh-
bourhood forms also an article of export. A
wooden bridge of ingenious construction, is here
thrown across the Rhine, and forms the only
channel of communication between this town
and the rest of Switzerland. It is 360 feet in
length, and consists of two very wide arches.
It was first erected in 1758, after the repeated
destruction by inundations of the preceding
stone bridge ; and though burnt by the French
troops, in their retreat in 1799, has been rebuilt.
Twenty-five miles west of Constance, and fifty
east by north of Bale.
SCHAFFHAUSEN, a canton in the north of
Switzerland, with an extent of 170 square miles,
a number of small hills, but no mountains, ex-
cept one called the Randen. The climate is
temperate, the soil various, and the products
wheat, barley, oats, vines and other fruits. The
towns and manufactures are inconsiderable. The
inhabitants are, with few exceptions, Calvinists.
Population 32,000.
SCHALCKEN (Godfrey), an eminent Dutch
painter, born at Dort in 1643. He was a dis-
ciple of Gerard Douw, whose style he adopted.
He resided some time in London, and painted
the portrait of king William III. by candle light,
the king holding the candle. He was equally
eminent in history. He died in 1706.
SCHATEN (Nicolas), a learned Jesuit, who
flourished in the seventeenth century. He wrote
several works, but that for which he is most ce-
lebrated is his History of Lower Germany. It
is esteemed very correct, and abounds with in-
teresting researches. He died about 1697.
SCHATZK, a town in the interior of Euro-
pean Russia, in the government of Tambov, on
Schata. It has a considerable traffic in hemp,
hardware, and silk. Ninety-six miles north of
Tambov, and 2 16 south-east of Moscow. Inha-
bitants 5700. Long. 41° 56' E., lat. 54° 26' N.
SCH AU EN BURG, a district of Hesse, in
the north-west of Germany, situated at a dis-
tance from the rest of the elector's territories,
and consisting of the south and east parts of the
principality of Schauenburg-Lippe. Its area is
about 210 square miles. It is in general level
and fertile. In its government it is independent
of the other states of the electorate. Population
24,000.
SCHAUENBURG, Of ScHAUMBURG-LlPPF., a
principality of the German empire, in West-
phalia, worth about £22,000 annually, bounded
by Hanover, Prussian Westphalia, and the pro-
vince of Schauenburg belonging to Hesse-Cassel.
Its extent is above 210 square miles. Popula-
tion 24,000. The soil is fertile, both for tillage
and pasturage. The chief manufactures are
thread and linen.
SCHED'ULE, n. s. Fr. schedule ; Lat. sche-
dula. A small scroll ; a list or inventory.
The first published schedules being brought to a
grave knight, he read over an unsavory seatence or
two, and delivered back the libel. Houker.
I will give out ichedutes of my beauty ; it shall be
inventoried, and every particle and utensil labelled to
my will. Shahspeare.
All ill, which all
Prophets or poets spake, and all which all
Be annexed in schedule unto this by me,
Fall on that man ! Donne.
A SCHEDULE is a scroll of paper or parchment
annexed to a will, lease, or other deed ; contain-
ing an inventory of goods, or some other matter
omitted in the body of the deed. The word is a
diminution of the Latin scheda, or Greek (r^iSy,
a leaf or piece of paper.
SCHEELE (Charles William), an eminent
Swedish chemist, born in 1742, at Stralsund.
When very young he received the usual educa-
tion at a private school ; and at a very early age
showed a strong desire to follow the profession
of an apothecary. With Mr. Bauch, an apothe-
cary at Gottenburg, he passed an apprentice-
ship of six years, and laid the first foundation of
his knowledge. Among the various books which
he read, on chemical subjects, Runckel's Labor-
atory was his favorite. He repeated many of the
experiments in that work privately in the night,
when the rest of the family were asleep. A friend
of Scheele's had also excited his attention to ex-
periments in chemistry by advising him to rea<l
Neuman's Chemistry. After his departure from
Gottenburgh in 1765 he obtained a place witli
Kalstrom, an apothecary at Malmo. In 1767 he
went to Stockholm, and in 1773 to Upsal, where
he had free access to the University Laboratory
Here also he commenced the friendship which
subsisted between him and Bergman. During
his residence at this place, Prince Henry of
Prussia, accompanied by the duke of Sunder-
land, visited Upsal, and went to see the Acade-
mical Laboratory, and Scheele was appointed by
the university to exhibit some chemical experi-
ments to them ; and he showed some of the most
curious processes in chemistry. In 1777 Schee'e
was appointed by the Medical College to be
apothecary at Roping, where he showed his
abilities. When he was at Stockholm he dis-
covered the fluoric acid ; and whilst at Upsal, he
made many experiments to prove its properties.
At the same place he began his series of experi-
ments on manganese. At Koping he finished
his Dissertation on Air and Fire ; a work which
the celebrated Bergman most warmly recom-
mended in the friendly preface which he wrote
for it. The theory which Scheele endeavours to
SCH
360
SCH
prove in this treatise is, that fire consists of pure
air and phlogiston. The author's merit in this
work was sufficient to obtain the approbation of
the public ; as the ingenuity displayed in hand-
ling so delicate a subject, and the many new and
valuable observations dispersed through the trea-
tise, justly entitled the author to that fame which
his book procured him. The English translation
is enriched with the notes of Richard Kirwan.
Scheele now diligently emplpyed himself in con-
tributing to the Transactions of the Academy at
Stockholm. He first pointed out a new way to pre-
pare the salt of benzoin. In the same year he dis-
covered that arsenic, prepared in a particular man-
ner, partakes of all the properties of an acid, and
has its peculiar affinities to other substances. In a
Dissertation on Flint, Clay, and Alum, he clearly
overturned Beaume's opinion of the identity of the
siliceous and argillaceous earths. He published
also an Analysis of the Human Calculus. He
published an excellent dissertation on the dif-
ferent sorts of oether. His investigation of the
coloring matter in Prussian blue, the means he
employed to separate it, and his discovery that
alkali, sal ammoniac, and charcoal, mixed toge-
ther, will produce it, are strong marks of his pe-
netration and genius. The valuable discoveries
of this great philosopher, many of which are to
be found in the Transactions of the Royal Society
at Stockholm, are too numerous for us to attempt
to give a list of them. Most of his essays have
been published in French by madame Picardet,
and M. Morveau of Dijon. Dr. Beddoes also
made a very valuable English translation of the
greater part of Seheele's dissertations, to which
he has added some useful and ingenious notes.
His last dissertation was his very valuable obser-
vations on the acid of the gall-nut. See GALLIC
ACID. The character of Scheele, as a chemist,
is too generally established to need any eulogium.
He mixed but little with society ; as, when his
profession permitted him, he was employed in
his experimental enquiries. His chemical appa-
ratus was neither neat nor convenient ; his labo-
ratory was small and confined ; nor was he par-
ticular in regard to the vessels which he employed
in his experiments, so that it is surprising how
such discoveries, and such elegant experiments,
could have been made under such disadvantages.
He understood none of the modern languages
except the German and Swedish ; so that he was
compelled to wait till discoveries were conveyed
to him through the slow channel of translation.
An offer was made to him of an annuity of £300
if he would settle in this country; but death put
an end to this project. He died in May 1786.
SCHEFFER (John), a learned German, born
at Strasburg in 1621 . He became eminent as a
critic on Greek and Latin authors. Being obliged
to leave his native country on account of the
wars in 1648 he retired to Sweden, where queen
Christina was patronising all men of letters. He
was soon after professor of eloquence and poli-
tics at Upsal ; honorary professor royal of the
law of nature and nations ; and assessor of the
royal college of antiquities ; and at last librarian
of the university of Upsal. He published seve-
ral learned works ; particularly De Militia Na-
vali Veterum. He died in 1679.
SCHEGKIUS (James), a learned German
physician and professor, of the seventeenth cen-
tury, born at Schorndorf, in the duchy of Wir-
temberg. He was first appointed professor of
philosophy in Tubingen ; and afterwards profes-
sor of medicine for thirteen years. He wrote
several works on philosophy, medicine, and the-
ology ; of which the most celebrated is his work
De Animae Principatu ; an cordi, an cerebrae, tri-
buendus.
SCHEINER (Christopher), a German mathe-
matician, astronomer, and Jesuit, eminent as the
first who discovered spots on the sun, was born
at Schwaben in the territory of Middleheim in
1575. He first discovered these dark places on
the sun's disk in 1611, and made observations
on these phenomena at Rome, until at length,
reducing them to order, he published them in
one volume folio in 1630. He wrote also other
tracts, relating to mathematics and philosophy,
and died in 1690.
SCHELDT, or SCHELDE, a large river of the
Netherlands, which, rises in the French depart-
ment of the Aisne, and flows in a northerly
direction by Cambray, Boucham, and Denain, to
Valenciennes, where it becomes navigable. From
Valenciennes it diverges to Conde and Tournay,
inclining to the north-east, after which it flows
nearly north, passes Oudenarde, and reaches
Ghent, where it is joined by the Lys. From
Ghent it winds to Antwerp ; and, being now
swelled into a wide river, becomes divided into
the two branches of East and West Scheldt, both
of which discharge themselves into the German
Ocean. It is of a slow current, hence well called
by Goldsmith ' the lazy Scheldt,' and of a small
body of fresh water, but in the lower part of its
course, of great importance to navigation. The.
Dutch, to increase the commerce of Amsterdan .
kept it long blocked by two forts. It has been
free only since 1795. The number of merchair
vessels that entered it in 1815 was 1000, oe
which 500 where British. The whole length of
its course is about 200 miles.
SCHELESTADT, or SCHLETTSTADT, a town
in the east of France, department of the Lower
Rhine, on a canal that communicates with the
Ille. It is covered on one side by marshes, and
on the other it is strongly fortified. It has some
manufactures of tobacco, caps, stockings, salt-
petre, potash, soap, and earthenware. The art of
glazing earthenware is said to have been invented
here. It was confirmed to France at the peace
of Westphalia in 1648. Population 7500.
Twenty-five miles south-west of Strasburg.
SCHELLINKS (William), an eminent Dutch
painter, born at Amsterdam in 1631. He painted
history and landscapes, but chiefly excelled in
sea pieces. His chief work is a picture of
Charles II. embarking for England, at the Resto-
ration ; in which the figures are well grouped.
He died in 1678. \
SCHELLINKS (Daniel), a younger brother of
William, was born at Amsterdam in 1633. He
was also reputed a good landscape painter. He
died in 1701.
SCHEME, n. s. ^ Gr. ffxtipa. A plan ; com-
SCIIF/MER, >bination of various things
SCHE'MATISM. j into one view or design; a
SCH
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system ; a combination of the aspects of the
heavenly bodies.
It is a scheme and face of heaven,
As th' aspects are disposed this even. Hudibras.
It hath embroiled astrology in the erection of
wliemes, and the judgment of death and diseases.
Browne.
Were our senses made much quicker, the appear-
ance and outward scheme of things would have quite
another face to us, and be inconsistent with our
well-being. Locke.
He forms the well concerted scheme of mischief ;
Tis fix'd, 'tis done, and both are doomed to death.
Rowe.
The haughty monarch was laying schemes for sup-
pressing the ancient liberties, and removing the an-
cient boundaries of kingdoms. Atterbury.
The stoical scheme of supplying our wants by lop-
ping off our desires, is like cutting off our feet when
we want shoes. Swift.
Every particle of matter, whatever form or schema-
tism it puts on, must in all conditions be equally ex-
tended, and therefore take up the same room.
Creech.
Hope calculates its schemes for a long and durable
life ; presses forward to imaginary points of bliss,
and grasps at impossibilities ; and consequently very
often ensnares men into beggary, ruin, and disho-
nour. Addison.
SCHEMNITZ, or SELMECZ-BANJA, a well-
built and large mining town of Hungary, stands in
the midst of the most picturesque scenery, a few
miles from the Raab, and contains a number of
good houses and tolerably wide streets. It con-
tains, including the suburb of Bela-Banja, about
23,000 inhabitants, of whom 12,000 are employed
about the mines of Schemnitz, the most extensive
in Hungary. The extent of ground containing
the ores is calculated at five or six miles square,
and includes the town, which is undermined.
The works are now at a great depth, the old
tunnel for drawing off the water being nearly
11 00 feet below the surface, and the new still
lower. Schemnitz is a favorable situation for a
mining school, and there has been here one of
celebrity since the middle of the eighteenth cen-
tury. A fund for experiments is allowed by
government. Forty-six miles north of Gran,
and eighty-three east north of Presburg.
SCHE'SIS, n. s. Gr. e^mc. Habitude;
state of any thing with respect to other things.
Tf that mind which has existing in itself from all
eternity all the simple essences of things, and conse-
quently all their possible scheies or habitudes, should
ever change, there would arise a new tchesis in the
mind, which is contrary to the supposition. Norris.
SCHEUCHZERIA, in botany, lesser flower-
ing rush, a genus of the trigynia order, and hex-
andria class of plants ; natural order fifth, tripe-
taloideae : CAL. sexpartite : COR. none ; styles
none: CAPS, three inflated and monospermous.
Species one only, a native of Europe.
SCHIAVONA (Andrew), a celebrated painter,
born at Sebenico, in Dalmatia, in 1522. His
parents were so poor that they could not pro-
cure him a master ; but, being merely employed
as a servant about a painter's shop, he rose by
the force of his own genius to a high degree of
fame. He showed great taste in his drapery and
the attitudes of his figures. He died at Venice
in 1582.
SCHICKARD (William), professor of He-
brew in the university of Tubingen, was born
in 1592. He wrote various learned works : as.
1. A Hebrew Grammar entitled Horologium
Schickardi ; 2. De Jure Regio Judaeorum, Leip-
sic, 1 674, 4to. ; 3. Series Regum Persia, Tubing.
1621, 4to. He died of the plague in 1635, aged
forty-three.
SCHIDONE (Bartholomew), an eminent his-
tory and portrait painter, born at Modena in
1560. He studied in the school of the Caracci,
but adopted the style of Corregio. His genius
was great, but he lost its advantages by gaming.
He died in 1616.
SCHIECH. See SHEIK.
SCHIEDAM, a considerable town of the
Netherlands, in South Holland, situated on the
river Schie, a short way from its influx into the
Maese. It is noted for its very numerous distil-
leries of gin (Hollands), of which there are no
less than 200 in the town. This article forms
its chief export; but the inhabitants take part
also in the herring fishery. Population 9000.
Schiedam has a small harbour, and is four miles
west of Rotterdam, and six south by east of
Delft.
SCHILLER (Frederick), was born November
10th, 1759, at Marbach in Wirtemberg, where
his father was a lieutenant in the service of the
duke. While a boy Schiller was distinguished
by uncommon ardor of imagination; and he was
sent to the military school at Stuttgard called
Charles's Academy. Schiller was originally
destined for the profession of surgery, and
prosecuted that study with great zeal, especially
anatomy and physiology, which opened an ex-
tensive field to his highly inquisitive mind. His
first publication was his Robbers, which was or-
dered to be suppressed, principally on account
of the following passage: — 'This ruby I drew
from the finger of a ninister whom I threw
down at the feet of his sovereign in the chase.
By adulation he had raised himself from the low-
est rank to be the favorite of the prince; the fall
of his neighbour was the means of his greatness,
and the tears of orphans assisted in his elevation.
This diamond I took from another of the crew,
who sold honors and offices to the highest bidder,
and pushed from his door the dejected patriot.'
It will be recollected that Schiller lived in the
same country where Schubart languished for
eight years of horror in the fortress of Hohenas-
perg. Schiller, therefore, did not think it advis-
able to await the decision of his own fate, espe-
cially as he had inserted an obnoxious poem on
tyranny in Schubart's chronicle. He fled to
Manheim. Here he at first had recourse to his
surgical attainments for a subsistence. He was
appointed surgeon to a regiment, till his friends
opened for him a career more adapted to his
talents, and procured him the post of dramatist
to the theatre of Manheim. The fruits of this
appointment are, The Conspiracy of Fiesko, and
Intrigue and Love. The Rhenish Thalia like-
wise deserves to be mentioned. Schiller however
was not quite contented with his situation ; and,
without other fortune, the fortune of his genius
inspired him with confidence in himself, and his
fame t,rave him reason to hope that he should
SCII
3C8
SCH
everywhere meet with friends. He left Manheim
for Mentz, where he had the good fortune to
become acquainted with the duke of Weimar, to
whom he read the first act of his Don Carlos.
Soon after this interview he visited Saxony,
where Dresden captivated him by its treasures
of art, its rich library, and the men of genius
whom he found there. His Don Carlos, which
he continued during his residency at Dresden,
was soon interrupted. He began to read every
thing that related to Philip; the library of Dres-
den afforded him abundant materials ; and he
became imperceptibly so deeply interested that
he neglected poetry for a time, aud attended
solely to history, to which we are indebted for
his Revolt of the Netherlands from the Spanish
Government. At Leipsic, or rather at Gohlis,
a charming village near that city, where he pass-
ed a summer with M. Goschin, he continued
and completed his Don Carlos. From Leipsic
Schiller removed to Weimar, where Wei land,
whom he for a Jime assisted in the publica-
tion of the German Mercury, received him with
cordiality. Some years afterwards Schiller was
appointed professor of history at Jena, and
taught that science with almost unexampled ap-
plause. That he might be able to study and to
labour with less interruption, he reversed the
order of nature. However singular it may appear,
it is not the less true, that at the evening he
might be found at his breakfast, and at midnight
deeply engaged in business. The stamp of mid-
night is in fact strikingly impressed on many of
his compositions. At length, however, Goethe
invited him back to Weimar, where he composed
his Maid of Orleans, of the first representation
of which at Leipsic the following account is
given by an eye-witness and a friend of Schil-
ler: 'I repaired,' says he, ' from Lauchstadt to
Leipsic, and should not have repented the jour-
ney, had I only witnessed the respect paid to
Schiller, in a manner perhaps unparalleled in
the annals of the German stage. Notwithstand-
ing the heat, the house was crowded almost to
suffocation. No sooner had the curtain dropped
at the conclusion of the first act, than a thousand
voices exclaimed, as with one mouth, ' Long
live Frederick Schiller !' and the sound of drums
and of trumpets joined in this expression of uni-
versal applause. The modest author returned
thanks from his box with a bow, but all the
spectators had not been able to obtain a sight of
the object of their admiration. You may there-
fore conceive how, when the play was over, all
thronged out of the house to see him. The ex-
tensive space from the theatre to the Ranstadt
gate was crowded with people. He came out,
and in a moment a passage was cleared. ' Hats
off !' exclaimed a voice ; the requisition was uni-
versally complied with ; and thus the poet pro-
ceeded through multitudes of admiring specta-
tors, who all stood uncovered, while parents in
the back ground raised their children in their
arms, and cried, That is Schiller.' This distin-
guished writer died in 1805.
SCHILLING (Diebold), a native cf Soleure,
in Switzerland, the gretfier of a tribunal in Berne,
in the fifteenth century. He wrote in the Ger-
man language, A History of the War between
the Swiss and Charles le Temeraire, Duke of
Burgundy ; which was published at Berne in
1743, in folio. The author was present in almost
all the battles he describes.
SCHINUS, in botany, Indian mastic, a genus
of the decandria order, and dioecia class of plants ;
natural order forty-third, dumosae : MALE CAL.
quinquefid ; the petals five : FEMALE, flower the
same as in the male ; the berry tricoccous.
Species two, natives of Peru and Brasil.
SCHISM, n.s. •} Fr. schisnte ; Gr.
SCHISMAT'ICAL, adj. ioxiapa. A separa-
SCHISMAT'ICALLY, adv. I tion or division in
SCUIS'MATIC, n. s. J the church : the de-
rivatives corresponding.
No known heretick nor tchismatick should be suf-
fered to go into those countries. Bacon.
Set bounds to our passions by reason, to our er-
rours by truth, and to our schisms by charity.
King Char Us.
By these tumults all factions, seditions, and schis-
matical proposals against government, ecclesiastical
and civil, must be backed. Id.
Thus you behold the schistnatick's bravadoes :
Wild squeaks in squibs, and Calamy in grenado's.
Kutlo:
Oppose schisms by unity, hypocrisy by sober piety,
and debauchery by temperance. Sprat".
Here bare anathemas fall but like so many bruta
fulmina upon the obstinate and schismatical, who are
like to think themselves shrewdly hurt by being cut
off from that body which they chuse not to be of,
and so being punished into a quiet enjoyment of
their beloved separation. South.
When a schism is once spread, there grows at length
a dispute which are the schismaticks : in the sense of
the law the tchism lies on that side which opposes
itself to the religion of the state. itoj/t.
The schismaticks united in a solemn league and
covenant to alter the whole system of spiritual go-
vernment. Id.
SCHISM is chiefly used of separations happen-
ing from diversity of opinions among people pre-
viously of the same religion and faith. Among
ecclesiastical authors, the great schism of the west
is that which happened in the times of Clement
VII. and Urban VI., which divided the church
for forty or fifty years, and was at length ended
by the election of Martin V., at the council of
Constance. The Romanists number thirty-four
schisms in their church. They bestow the name
English schism on the reformation of religion
in this kingdom. Some of the church of Eng-
land apply the term schism to the separation
of the nonconformists, viz. the presbyterians, in-
dependents, and anabaptists, for further reform-
ation.
SCHLICHTINGIUS (Jonas, De Bukowic),
a Unitarian author, born in Poland in 1596 ;
where he preached till he was expelled by the
diet of Warsaw, in 1647. He then retired to
Muscovy, and settled at Zullichaw ; where he
died in 1661. His works were printed at Am-
sterdam in 1766.
SCHMIDT (Erasmus), a learned German,
born at Delitzch in Misnia, in 1560. He be-
came professor of Greek and mathematics at
Wirtemberg, where he taught these sciences with
great reputation for many years, and died in 1637
He published an edition of Pindar, with a Latin
sen
369
SCH
version and a commentary in 4to. 1616; also
editions with learned notes of Lycophron, Diony-
sius, Perienetes, and Hesiod ; which last was
published at Geneva in 1693.
SCHNEEBERG, a town of Saxony, fifty-
three miles W. S. W. of Dresden, and seven
W. N. W. of Schwarzenberg. It contains 4400
inhabitants ; has several public schools, and some
manufactures, of which that of smalts is the
largest in Saxony : others are connected with the
neighbouring mines. The quantity of gold ex-
tracted from these is said to have been formerly
considerable. At present the chief products of
the mines are silver, cobalt, bismuth, iron, some
tin and lead.
SCIIOEFFER (Peter), a German painter,
who flourished in the middle of the fifteenth
century, and was one of the latest improvers of
the art, by the discovery of the matrix in type-
founding.
SCIIOENOBATES,(from the Greek, <TXOH>OC,
a rope, and /Satvw, I walk), a name which the
Greeks gave to their rope-dancers : by the Ro-
mans called funambuli. The schcenobates were
slaves whose masters profited by entertaining
the people with their feats of activity. Mer-
curial is de arte gymnastica, lib. iii. gives us five
figures of schcenobates engraven after ancient
stones.
SCHOENUS, in botany, bastard Cyprus,
marsh, or round rush, a genus of the monogynia
order, and triandria class of plants ; natural order
third, calamariae. The glumes are paleaceous,
univalved, and thickset : COR. none ; and only
one roundish seed between the glumes. Species
forty, natives chiefly of the Cape.
SCHOEPFLIN (John Daniel), a learned Ger-
man, born at Sulzburg, in the Brisgaw, in 1694,
He became professor of history in the Lutheran
university of Strasburg. He was offered the
same professorship at Francfort on the Oder, at
Upsal in Sweden, at the famed university of
Leyden, and was invited to Petersburg, by the
czarina to be historiographer imperial, but he
preferred Strasburg. In 1725 he pronounced
a congratulatory oration in the name of the uni-
versity before king Stanislaus, on the marriage
of his daughter with the king of France ; which
was printed with some other tracts. He died at
Stra>burg in 1771.
SCHOL'AR, ».«.
SCHOL'ARSHIP,
SCHOLAS'TIC, adj.
SCHOLAS'TICALLY,
SCHOOL, n. s. &w. a.
SCHOOL'BOY,
ScHOOL'DAy,
SCHOOL'FELLOW,
SCHOOL'HOUSE,
SCHOOL'MAX,
SCHOOL'MASTER,
SCHOOL'MISTRF.SS
Fr. ecolier; lat.scho-
laris, scholar. A dis-
ciple; one who learns
of a master: hence both
j a man of real literary
! attainments or excel-
ciliousness: the compounds do not appear to
need explanation.
Una her besought to be so good
As in her virtuous rules to school her knight.
Faerie Queent.
Fair Una 'gan Fidelia fair request,
To have her knight unto her schoolhouse placed.
Spenter.
Many times that which deserveth approbation
would hardly find favour, if they which propose it
were not to profess themselves icholars, and followers
of the ancients. Hooker.
The favour of proposing there, in convenient sort,
whatsoever ye can object, which thing I have known
them to grant, of tcholattick courtesy unto strangers,
never hath nor ever will be denied you. Id.
Adrian VI. was some time schoolmaster to Charles
V. Knolles.
He's gentle, never schooled, and yet learned.
Sliukspeare.
You shall go with me ;
I have some private schooling for you both. Id.
Schoolboys' tears take up
The glasses of my sight. Id.
Is all forgot?
All schooldays friendship, childhood, innocence 1 IV.
My cousin William is become a good scholar: he
is at Oxford still, is he not? Id.
1, thy schoolmaster, have made thee more profit
Than other princes can, that have more time
For vainer hours, and tutors not so careful. Id.
The king, though no good tchoolman, converted
one of them by dispute. Bacon.
If a man's wit be not apt to distinguish or find
differences, let him study the schoolmen. Id.
To spend too much time in studies, is sloth ; to
make judgment wholly by their rules, is the humour
of a scholar : they perfect nature, and are perfected
by experience. Id.
Sir Francis Bacon was wont to say, that those
who left useful studies for useless scholastick specu-
lations, were like the Olympick gamesters, who ab-
stained from necessary labours, that they might be
fit for such as were not so. Id.
The ancient sophists and rhetoricians lived till
they were an hundred years old ; and so likewise
did many of the grammarians and schoolmasters, as
Orbilius. Id.
No crazed brain could ever yet propound,
Touching the soul, so vain and fond a thought ;
But some among these masters have been found,
Which in their schools the self-same thing had taught.
Dames.
He grins, smacks, shrugs, and such an itch en-
dures,
As 'prentices or schoolboys, which do know
Of some gay sport abroad, yet dare not go. Donne.
To schoolmen I bequeath my doubtfulness,
My sickness to physicians. Id.
Scholastic education, like a trade, does so fix
f lence, and a pedant, a man in a particular way, that he is not fit to judge
" mere man of books : of any thing that lies out of that way.
Burners TVieon/.
The first principles of Christian religion should
not be farced with school points and private tenets.
Sounder-son.
My end being private, I have not expressed my
conceptions in the language of the schools. Digbii.
I would render this intelligible to every rationa,
man, however little versed in scholastic learning.
Id. on Bodies.
Let no man be less confident in his faith, con-
cerning the great blessings God designs in these di-
vine mysteries, by reason of any difference in the
2 B
scholarship follows
only what may be called
the good sense : scho-
J lastic and scholasti-
cally, all the senses of scholar : a school is a
house or establishment devoted to instruction
and discipline; a state or mode of instruction;
hence a particular system, and hence the theolo-
gical system of those ages immediately following
the Fathers : to school is, to instruct, train, lec-
ture ; treat with disdainful superiority or super-
VOT. \|\.
SCH
370
SCH
seveiaJ tchools of Christians, concerning the conse-
quent blessings thereof. Taylor.
This same scholar's fate res angusta domi, hinders
the promoting of learaing. H'ilkint.
This place should be school and university, not
needing a remove to any other house of scholarship.
Mitt on.
Both sides charge the other with idolatry, and
that is a matter of conscience, and not a tcholastick
nicety. Stillingjieet.
Their age the same, their inclinations too.
And bred together in one school they grew. Dryden.
School your child,
And ask why God's anointed he reviled. Id.
Thy flattering method on the youth pursue ;
Joined with his schoolfellows by two and two :
Persuade them first to lead an empty wheel,
In length of time produce the laboring yoke. Id.
Such precepts 1 have selected from the most con-
siderable which we have from nature, that exact
schoolmistress. Id.
A man may find an infinite number of propositions
in books of metaphysicks, school divinity, and natural
philosophy, and know as little of God, spirits, or
bodies, as he did befpre. Locke.
The emulation of ichoolftlloirt often puts life and
industry into young lads. Id.
To watch occasions to correct others in their dis-
course, and not slip any opportunity of shewing
their talents, scholars are most blamed for. Id.
A father may see his children taught, though he
himself does not turn schoolmaster. South'* Sermons.
No moralists or casuists, that treat tcholastically
of justice hut treat of gratitude, under that general
head as a part of it. South.
The tchotars of the Stagyrite,
Who for the old opinion fight,
Would make their modern friends confess
The difference but from more to less. Prior.
My fchwlmistress, like a vixen Turk,
Maintains a lazy husband by our work. Gay.
If this be schooling, it is well for the considerer :
111 engage that no adversary of his shall in this
sense ever school him. Atterbury.
Unlearned, he knew no schoolman '*subtle art ;
No language, bat the language of the heart. Pope.
It pitied my very heart to think that a man of my
master's understanding, and great tcholarship, who
had a book of his own in print, should talk so out-
rageously. Id.
Once he had heard a schoolboy tell,
How Semele of mortal race
By thunder died. Swift.
Writers on that subject have turned it into a com-
position of hard words, trifles, and subtilties, for the
mere use of the schools, and that only to amuse men
with empty sounds. ]\'atts.
Men of nice palates could not relish Aristotle, as
he was drest up by the schoolmen. Baker.
Warped by the world in Disappointment's tdiool,
In words too wise, in conduct there a fool :
Too firm to yield, and far too proud to stoop,
Doomed by his very virtues for a dupe,
He cursed those virtues as the cause of ill,
And not the traitors who betrayed him still. Byron.
A SCHOLIAST, or commentator, is a gram-
marian who writes scholia, or notes, &c., upon
ancient authors who have written in the learned
languages.
SCHOUON, n. t.~\ Lat. scholium. A note;
SCH o LI CM, fan explanatory observa-
SCHO'LIAST,| ition: Hooker only uses
STHO'LY. J scholy in this sense :
scholiast is a writer of such notes.
Hereunto have I added a certain gloss or scfioliwn,
for the exposition of old words, and harder phrases,
which manner of glossing and commenting will seem
strange in our language. Spenser.
That tcholy had need of a very favourable reader,
and a tractable, that should think it plain construc-
tion, when to be commanded to the word, and
grounded upon the word, are made all one. Hooker.
The title of this satyr, in some ancient manu-
scripts, was the reproach of idleness ; though in
others of the scholiasts, 'tis inscribed against the
luxury of the rich. Drijdeit.
What Gellius or Stobaeus cooked before,
Or chewed by blind old scholiast* o'er and o'er.
Poie.
Some cast all their metaphysical and moral learn-
ing into the method of mathematicians, and briug
every thing relating to these abstracted or practical
sciences under theorems, problems, postulates, «-/j<>-
liumi, and corollaries. Wmttt,
SCHOMBERG (Frederick Armand duke of)
a distinguished officer, the son of count Schom-
berg, by an English lady, daughter of lord Dud-
ley, was born in 1608. He entered into the
military life under Frederick Henry prince of
Orange, and served under his son William II.
of Orange. He then repaired to the court of
France, where his reputation was so well esta-
blished that he obtained the government of
Gravelines, Furnes, and the adjacent countries.
The French court soon after sent Schomberg to
assist the Portuguese against the Spaniards,
which he effectually did. The court of Spain
was compelled to solicit peace in 1668, and
to acknowledge the right of the house of
Braganza to the throne of Portugal. For his
services he was created count Mentola in Por-
lugal ; and a pension of £5000 was bestowed
upon him, with the reversion to his heirs. In
1673 he came over to England to command the
army ; but, the English being then disgusted with
the French nation, Schomberg: was suspected;
and therefore returned to France, which he soon
left, and went to the Netherlands. In June
1676 he compelled the prince of Orange to raise
the siege of Maastricht ; and was raised to the
rank of mareschal of France. Upon the revo-
cation of the edict of Nantes, when the perse-
cution commenced against the Protestants,
Schomberg, who was of that persuasion, request-
ed leave to retire into his own country. This
was refused ; but he was permitted to take re-
fuge in Portugal, where he had reason to expect
he would be kindly received on account of past
services. But the bigotry of the Portuguese,
though it did not prevent them from accepting
assistance from a heretic when their kingdom
was threatened with subversion, would not per-
mit them to give him shelter when he came for
protection. The inquisition interfered, and
obliged the king to send him away. He then
went to Holland, and the elector of Brandenburg
made him governor of Ducal Prussia, and com-
mander in chief of his forces. When the prince
of Orange sailed to England, to take possession
of its crown, Schomberg obtained permission
from the elector to accompany him. In April
1689 he was made K. G., and naturalised by act
of parliament ; and in May following was cre-
ated a baron, earl, marquis, and duke of Eng-
land, by the title of baron Teys, earl of Brent-
t'ord, marquis of Harwich, and duke of Schom-
nerg. The house of commons voted to him
£i 00,000, as a reward for his services. Of this
he only received a small part ; but after his death
a pension of £5000 a year was bestowed upon
his son. In August 1689 he was sent to Ireland
to reduce that kingdom. When he arrived he
fbi;nd himself at the head of an army consisting
only of 12,000 foot and 2000 horse, while king
James commanded an army three times as nu-
merous. Schomberg thought it dangerous to en-
gage with so superior a force, and, being disap-
pointed in his promised supplies from P'ngland,
remained on the defensive. He posted himself
at Dundalk, about five or six miles from James,
who was encamped at Ardee. For six weeks he
remained in this position, without attempting to
give battle, while, from the wetness of the sea-
son, he lost nearly the half of his army. Schom-
berg was much blamed for not coming to action;
but had he risked an engagement, and been de-
feated, Ireland would have been lost. At the
famous battle of the Boyne, which decided the
fate of James, Schomberg passed the river at the
head of his cavalry, defeated eight squadrons,
and broke the Irish infantry. When the French
Protestants lost their commander, Schomberg
went to rally and lead them on to charge. While
thus engaged, a party of king James's guards
passed Schomberg in attempting to rejoin their
own army. They attacked him with great fury,
and gave him two wounds in the head. The
wounds were not dangerous, but the French Pro-
testants, thinking their general was killed, fired
upon the guards, and shot him dead. He was
buried in St. Patrick's cathedral.
SCHONBURG, a county of Saxony, which
belonged to Bohemia till the treaty of Teschen,
in 1779, when it was ceded to Saxony. It ad-
joins the circles of Leipsic and the Erzgebirge,
has an extent of about 340 square miles, and a
population of 61,000.
A SCHOOL is a public place, wherein the lan-
guages, the arts, or sciences are taught. See
EDUCATION. The Latin schola, according to
Du Cartge, signifies discipline and correction ;
he adds that it was anciently used, in general,
for all places where several persons met together,
to study, converse, or do any other matter. Ac-
cordingly, there were scholae palatinae, being the
several posts wherein the emperor's guards were
placed ; schola scutariorum, schola gentilium,
&c. At length the term passed also to civil ma-
gistrates ; and, accordingly, in the code we meet
with schola chartulariorum, schola agentium, &c. ;
and even to ecclesiastics, as schola cantorum,
schola sacerdotum, &c.
SCHOONER, in naval ajjjairs, a small vessel
with two masts, whose main-sail and fore-sail
are suspended from gaffs, reaching from the mast
towards the stern, and stretched out below by
booms, whose foremost ends are hooked to an
iron, which clasps the mast so as to turn therein
as upon an axis, when the after-ends are swung
from one side of the vessel to the other.
SCHOREL (John), a Flemish painter, who
•was also a musician and 1'nguist, born in 1495,
at Schore in Holland. He studied under Al-
y —
•1 SCH
bert Durer ; and travelled into Germany, where
a friar prevailed on him to accompany him to
Jerusalem, where he painted several relics of an-
tiquity. On his return he visited Venice and
Rome, where pope Adrian VI. appointed him
superintendent of the buildings at Belvidere.
On Adrian's death he returned to the Nether-
lands, and refused an offer from Francis I. of
France, to settle in Paris. He died in 1562.
SCHORNDORF,a neat town of Wirtemberg,
on the Rems, seventeen miles east of Stutgard.
The chief manufacture is coarse woollens. The
environs have always been noted for their wine.
Inhabitants 3500.
SCHOTIA, in botany, a genus of the mono-
gynia order, and decandria class of plants ; na-
tural order thirty-third, lomentaceae : CAL. semi-
quinquefid : COR. with five petals, which are
equal ; the tube is turbinated, carneous, and per-
sistent. The legumen pedicellated, and contains
two seeds ; there is only one species, viz.
S. speciosa, the African lignum vitse.
SCHOTTUS (Andrew), a learned Jesuit,
born at Antwerp, in 1552. He studied at Lou-
vain, and afterwards went to Paris ; whence lie
travelled into Spain, and became professor of
Greek at Toledo. He published several tracts,
and died at Antwerp in 1629.
SCHOTTUS (Gaspar), professor of mathematics,
at Wirtemberg, who first published an account
of Guericke's discovery of the Air-pump, in
1657, in a work entitled Mechanica Hydraulico-
Pneumatica. In 1664 he published a more full
account of it, in his Technica Curiosa, a curious
collection of all the wonderful experiments, &c.,
then known in Europe.
SCHOUTEN'S ISLAND, an island on the east
coast of Van Diemen's Land, consisting almost
entirely of lofty black mountains, separated by
deep reaches.
SCHOUWEN, an island of the province ol
Zealand, at the mouth of the Scheldt. Its extent,
fifteen miles in length and five in breadth, was
formerly greater, a part of it having been over-
flowed by the sea. In 1809 it was occupied
by the British forces. The chief town is Zie-
rikzee.
SCHREVELIUS (Cornelius), a laborious
Dutch critic and writer, born at Haerlem, in
1615; who has given the public some editions
of the ancient authors more elegant than correct :
his Greek Lexicon is esteemed the best of all
his works. He died in 1667.
SCHROETER (John Samuel), an eminent
musician born in Saxony. He came to London
in 1774, with his father, who was also a musi-
cian, but of no great eminence. But young
Schroeter improved himself under the famous
Emanuel Bach ; and some time after composed
a set of Lessons for the Piano-forte, which Na-
pier published, and paid him liberally for the
copyright. This raised his fame, and procured
him several scholars. After the publication of
his first set of Concertos, he obtained the lead in
all musical entertainments. About this time he
married a young lady, who was his pupil, through
whom he became entitled to a large fortune; but
her friends threatening him with the terrors of
the court of chancery, he gave up his claim, for
2 B 2
SCH
372
SCH
an annuity of £500, with this condition, thut he
should perform no more in public. But the
prince of Wales not long after appointed him
one of his band of music with a liberal salary.
His last Set of Sonatas, with an elegant accom-
paniment for the violin and violincello, were
composed at the desire of the prince, to whom it
was dedicated. He died in 1785.
SCHULTENS (Albert), professor of Hebrew
and of the eastern languages at Leyden, was
born at Groningen, where he studied till 1706,
and continued his studies at Leyden and Utrecht.
He at length applied himself to the study of Ara-
bic ; in which he made great progress. A short
time after he became minister of Wassenar, and
two years after professor of the eastern tongues at
Franeker. At length he was invited to Leyden,
where he taught Hebrew and the eastern lan-
guages with great reputation till his death, in
1750. Hig principal works are, 1. A Commen-
tary on Job, 2 vols. 4to. 2. A Commentary on
the Proverbs. 3. Vetus et regia via Hebraizandi.
4. Animadversiones Philologies et Critics ad
varia loca Veteris Testamenti. 5. A Treatise on
Hebrew roots. 6. An excellent Hebrew gram-
mar, &c. Schultens discovered in his works
sound criticism and much learning. He main-
tained, in opposition to Gousset and Driessen,
that to have a perfect knowledge of Hebrew it
is necessary to join with it, not only the Chaldee
and Syriac, but more particularly the Arabic.
SCHUMEG, orSoMOGYi-VARMEGYE, a pala-
tinate of Hungary, between the Balaton lake and
the Drave. Its area is 2430 square miles ; ge-
nerally level, and in many places marshy, and
unhealthy. The inhabitants are of very various
/•aces, and there are many Jews. The county
takes its name from the old castle of Somogy or
Schumeg, but the chief town is Kaposvar. Po-
pulation 170,000.
SCHUMLA, SCHUMNA, or CIUMLA, a large
and very strong town in the north-east of Euro-
pean Turkey, on the road from Constantinople
to Wallachia. It is situated in the province of
Silistria, about fifty miles south of the Danube,
which is here in the lower part of its course. It is
supposed to occupy the site of the ancient Mar-
cianopolis. In general not well built, it still
contains many handsome mosques and baths. Its
castle is one of the chief Turkish posts (indeed
the principal one) between Adrianople and the
Russian frontier. The importance of this place
altogether has never been more decidedly evinc-
ed than in the recent struggle for the possession
of it, between Russia and Turkey. The popu-
lation, as in other Turkish towns, is unascertained
by any ancient register, but is said to amount to
30,000. Its trade consists chiefly in the wine
of the country, the manufacture of hardware, and
in consequence of German cloth being cheap here
in the manufacture of cloth for the Turkish me-
tropolis. From the marshy nature of the neigh-
bouring country, strangers, it is said, cannot
remain here even a few days without being seized
with intermittent fever. The great natural fea-
tures of this part of Turkey are the Danube and
the long mountain range of Balkan, the ancient
1 hi imis. They extend from west to east, in a
direction nearly parallel, at a distance of about
100 miles ; and Schumla stands halfway between
them. On the east, at the distance of seventy
miles, is the Euxine ; on the west the interior of
Bulgaria.
SCHUYLKILL, a rirer of Pennsylvania,
United States, which rises in Luzerne county,
north-west of the Kittatinny mountains, through
which it passes, runs south-east into the Dela-
ware, six miles below Philadelphia. It is 140
miles long, and navigable for boats for ninety.
The Tulpehocken, a navigable stream, flows into
the Schuylkill one mile and a half above Reading.
There are falls on the river five miles above Phi-
ladelphia, and Swedes falls a little below Nor-
ristown. A canal, connecting the Swatara with
the Tulpehocken will unite the waters of the
Schuylkill with those of the Susquehannah.
SCHWALBEA, in botany, a genus of the an-
giospermia order, and didynamia class of plants :
CAL. quadrifid, with a superior lobe ; the lower-
most longest, and emarginated. Species one
only, a North American plant, with a fine dark
red flower.
SCHWARTS, or SCHWARTZ (Cornelius), an
eminent history painter, born at Ingolstadt in
1550, who was distinguished by the appellation
of the German Raphael. He learned the first
principles of the art in his own country, but fi-
nished his studies at Venice; when he not only
made the works of Titian his models, but re-
ceived some personal instructions from that il-
lustrious master. His performances were soon
in high esteem, and he was invited by the elec-
tor of Bavaria to his court, and appointed his
principal painter. He died in 1594 ; and his
most capital works, as well in fresco as in oil,
are in the palace at Munich, and in the churches
and convents.
SCHWARTZ (Bartholemew or Bertholet), a na-
tive of Friburg in Germany, who flourished in
the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, and is
remarkable for being the discoverer of gunpow-
der, in 1320.
SCHWARTZ (Christian Frederick), a missionary
to the East Indies, born at Somienburg, in the
Newmarck, October 26th, 1726, went to Halle
in 1746, and entered at the University, by the
advice of the ex-missionary Schulze. When he
had continued his oriental studies for a-year and
a half, he was persuaded to go out to the East and
proceeded to England with two other gentlemen
destined for the same service : in July 1750 they
arrived at Tranquebar. Mr. Schwartz, in 1767,
was taken into the service of the English Society
for the promotion of Christian knowledge, when
he removed to Trichinopoly ; and there and at
Tanjore passed the remainder of his life. At
both places he also received from the govern-
ment of Madras £l 00 a-year, as garrison preacher,
which sum he is said to have expended in
building a church at Trichinopoly, &c. He was
held in high esteem by the Hindoos ; and the
rajah of Tanjore made him tutor to his son. He
died February 13th, 1796, at Tanjore, and his
body was interred in his own church.
.SCIIWARTZENBERG, a small principality
of Franconia, in the dominions of Bavaria. Its
nrea is somewhat less than 100 square miles
The prevailing religion is Lutheran. The prince?
5CE
373
SCI
•>f this house ave flesv-ended Horn one of the oldest
families in Franconia, and owe their revenue and
political power less to this principality than to
their extensive domains in Bohemia and other
parts of Germany. The total population on their
estates, or in towns in which they hold property,
is computed at 130,000. The head of the house
was made a prince of the empire in 1670, but
mediatised in 1806.
SCHWARTZBURG, a district in the interior
of Germany, divided into two counties. One of
them adjoining Saxe-Gotha, the other, farther to
the south, is near the Russian province of Erfurt.
The area of the whole is 1166 square miles; very
hilly, but interspersed with fertile valleys, ex-
tending along the banks of the rivers. The forests
are extensive, and contain mines of iron, alum,
and cobalt ; also quarries of marble, freestone,
and slate. The manufactures are insignificant.
The princes of Schwartzburg are of great anti-
quity, and divided into the two branches of
Sondershausen and Rudolstadt, residing respec-
tively at the towns of these names. Both are
members of the Germanic body, under the con-
stitution of 1815 ; and the territories of both are
nearly equal in population and income (that is
each numbers about 50,000 subjects). Each
county has its cabinet, its treasury, and its dis-
tinct courts of justice.
SCHWEIDNITZ, a principality of the Prus-
sian province or government of Reichenbach,
bounded on the south by Bohemia, and includ-
ing a territorial extent of not quite 1000 square
miles, partly hilly, and partly level : it produces
corn in large quantities ; and the flocks of sheep
and manufacturing villages are numerous. In-
habitants 180,000.
SCHWEITZ,or SCHWYTZ, a canton of Swit-
zerland, lying contiguous to the lakes of Zug
and Lucerne. Its extent is about 466 square
miles, surrounded by Alpine mountains, between
which are a few valleys. The chief mountains
are Rigi in the south-west corner, above 6000
feet in height ; Pragel in the south-east, above
5,500 ; and Mytten, situated between the two,
of 6300 feet. The soil and climate of course are
fitter for pasturage than for tillage. Manufac-
tures are almost unknown. Inhabitants about
30,000. Here, in the beginning of the fourteenth
century, the standard of the Swiss liberty was
first erected, and this petty canton had the
honor of giving a name to the confederation, and
the inhabitants made a spirited but unavailing
resistance to the French in 1798, and suffered
severely in 1799, when Switzerland became the
theatre of war.
SCHWENKFELDIA, in botany, a genus of
the monogynia order, and' pentandria class of
plants: CAL. quinquefid : ron. funnel-shaped:
stigma parted into five : the berry quinquelocu-
lar, with a number of seeds. Of this there are
three species, viz. S. aspera, and S. cinerea,both
uatives of Guiana. S. hirta is a native of Ja-
maica. The leaves of all of them are remarkably
rough, and stick to the fingers or clothes.
SCHWENKIA.in botany, a genus of the mo-
nogynia order, and diandria class of plants : COR.
almost equal, plaited at the throat, and glandu-
lous ; there are three barren stamina : CAPS, bi-
locular and pojygperruous. Species one only, a
Guiana plant.
SCHWERIN, the capital of the duchy of
Mecklenburg-Scbwerin, is situated on the west
side of the lake of this name, and surrounded
with a rampart. It is divided into the Old Town,
the New Town, the Moor, and the suburbs.
The grand ducal palace is situated on an island
in the lake : it is fortified, and communicates
with the town by a draw-bridge ; its ornaments
are the picture gallery and park. Of Schwerin,
the chief buildings and institutions are the high
church, formerly a cathedral, two other Lutheran
churches, a Catholic church, poor house, orphan
house, infirmary, and synagogue. The manufac-
tures are trifling: but brewing and distilling are
carried on to some extent. In 1759 this town
was taken by the Prussians, after a bombard-
ment, and laid under a heavy contribution ; and
occupied in 1806 by the French. Population
8500. Sixty miles east of Hamburgh, and seven-
teen south of Wismer.
SCIACCA, or XACCA, a large sea-port on the
south-west of Sicily, in the Val di Mazzara,
called anciently Thermae Selinuntise, from the
warm baths on the east side of the town. It is
situated at the foot of St. Calagere, and has a
good appearance from a distance. It is still sur-
rounded by a wall, and contains 12,000 inha-
bitants.
SCI7ENA, in ichthyology, a genus belonging
to the order of thoracici. The membrane of the
gills has six rays ; the opercula and whole head
are scaly. There are five species, the following
is the most worthy of notice :
S. umbra, sea-crow, or umbre, of a black
color, in shape resembling a perch : ventral and
anal fins black, as if dyed with ink ; back va-
riegated with undulatinsr lines, of dark brown and
blue; snout sharp ; mouth capacious. This fish
is caught in the Mediterranean, and sold undt r
the name of umbrino in the markets of Rome.
SCIATHER'ICAL, adj. I Fr. sciaterigue ;
SCIATHER'IC. i Greek <ma0>jpticoc.
Belonging to a sun-dial.
There were also, from great antiquity, tciatheretical
or sun-dials, by the shadow of a stile or gnomon
denoting the hours ; an invention ascribed unto
Anaximenes by Pliny. Browne.
SCIATICA, n.s.-) Fr. sciatique; Lat. is-
SCIAT'IC, ychiadica vassio. The hip
SCIAT'ICAL, adj. J gout.
Thou cold sciatica,
Cripple our senators, that their limbs may halt
As lamely as their manners. Shakspeare. Timon.
The Scythians, using continual riding, were gene-
rally molested with the »ciatica or hip-gout.
Browne' » Vulgar Errovrt.
In obstinate sciatical pains, blistering and cau-
teries have been found effectual. Arbuthnot.
Racked with iciatich, martyred with the stone,
Will any mortal let himself alone 1 Pope.
SCI'ENCE,n.s, -\ Fr. science; Latin
SCIEN'TTAL, adj. txcientin. Knowledge;
SCIENTIFIC, £ that part of ourknow-
SCIENTIF'ICALLY, adv. / ledge which is built
on principles in particular. See below : scien-
tial means productive of science : scientific
pertaining to, or indicating or producing demon-
strative knowledge : the adverb corresponding.
374
SCILLY ISLES.
No science doth make known the 6rst principles
whereon it buildeth ; but they are always taken as
plain and manifest in themselves, or as proved and
granted already, some former knowledge having made
them evident. Hooker.
I present you with a man
Cunning in music and the mathematicks,
To instruct her fully in those sciences. Shakspeare.
If we conceive God's sight or tcience, before the
creation, to be extended to all and every part of the
world, seeing every thing as it is, his prescience or
foresight of any action of mine, or rather his science
or sight, from all eternity, lays no necessity on any
thing to come to pass, more than my seeing the sun
move hath to do in the moving of it. Hammond.
No where are there more quick, inventive, and
penetrating capacities, fraught with all kind of scien-
tijical knowledge. Hoteel.
From the tree her step she turned ;
But first to reverence done, as to the power
That dwelt within ; whose presence had infused
Into the plant tciential sap, derived
From nectar, drink of gods. Milton's Paradise Loit.
The indisputable mathematicks, the only tcience
Heaven hath yet vouchsafed humanity, have but few
votaries among the slaves of the Stagirite.
Glancille's Scepsis.
Natural philosophy proceeding from settled prin-
ciples, therein is expected a satisfaction from scienti-
Jical progressions, and such as beget a sure or rational
relief. Browne'* Vulgar Errours.
Science perfects genius, and moderates that fury
of the fancy which cannot contain itself within the
bounds of reason. Dryden.
The systems of natural philosophy that have ob-
tained are to be read more to know the hypotheses,
thaa with hopes to gain there a comprehensive, sci-
tntijical and satisfactory knowledge of the works of
nature. Locke.
Sometimes it rests upon testimony, because it is
easier to believe than to be scientifically instructed.
Id.
No man, who first traffics into a foreign country
has any scientifick evidence that there is such a coun-
try, but by report, which can produce no more than
a moral certainty ; that is, a very high probability,
and such as there can be no reason to except against.
South.
Good sense, which only is the gift of Heav'n,
And, though no science, fairly worth the sev'n. Pope.
So you arrive at truth, though not at science.
Berkley.
SCIENCE, in philosophy, denotes any doctrines
deduced from self evident principles. Sciences,
according to Locke, may be properly divided as
follows : — 1. The knowledge of things, their
constitutions, properties, and operations ; this, in
a little more enlarged sense of the word, may be
called fvaiKr), or natural philosophy ; the end of
which is speculative truth. See PHILOSOPHY
and PHYSICS.— 2. The skill of rightly applying
these powers, irpaKTuci]. The most considerable
under this head is ethics, which is the seeking out
those rules and measures of human actions that
lead to happiness, and the means to practise them
(see MORAL PHILOSOPHY) ; and the next is me-
chanics, or the application of the powers of na-
tural agents to the uses of life. See Mi i HANK s.
3. The doctrine of signs, anjitiowriKi) ; the most
usual of which being words, it is aptly enough
termed logic. See Locic. This, says Mr.
Locke, seems to be the most general, as well as
natural, division of the objects of our iinder^.uul-
ing ; for a man can employ his thoughts about
nothing but either the contemplation of things
themselves for the discovery of truth ; or about
the things in his own power, which are his ac-
tions, for the attainment of his own ends : or the
signs the mind makes use of both in the one and
the other, and the right ordering of them for its
clearer information. All which three, viz. things
as they are in themselves knowable, actions as
they depend on us in order to happiness, and the
right use of sisns in order to knowledge, being
toto caelo different, they seem to be the three great
provinces of the intellectual world, wholly sepa-
rate and distinct one from another.
SCILLA, the squill, in botany, a genus of the
monogynia order and hexandria class of plants,
natural order tenth, coronariae: COR. hexapetalous
and deciduous; the filaments filiform. The most
remarkable species is the
S. maritima, or sea onion, whose roots are used
in medicine. Of this there are two sorts, one
with a red and the other with a white root ;
which are supposed to be accidental varieties, but
the white are generally preferred for medicinal
use. The roots are large, somewhat oval-shaped,
composed of many coats lying over each other
like onions ; and at the bottom come out several
fibres. From the middle of the root arise several
shining leaves, which continue green all the
winter, and decay in the spring. Then the flower
stalk comes out, which rises two feet high, and is
naked half way, terminating in a pyramidal
thyrse of flowers, which are white, composed of
six petals, which spread open like the points of
a star. This grows naturally on the sea shores,
and in the ditches, where the sak water flows
with the tide. Sometimes the roots which are
bought for use put forth their stems and produce
flowers, as they lie in the druggists' shops. This
root is very nauseous to the taste, intensely
bitter, and so acrimonious, that it ulcerates the
skin if much handled. Taken internally, it pow-
erfully stimulates the solids, and promotes urine,
sweat, and expectoration. If the dose is consi-
derable,it proves emetic and purgative. It yields
the whole of its virtues to aqueous aud vinous
menstrua, and likewise to vegetable acids.
SCILLY ISLES, a cluster of small islands
and rocks situated in the Atlantic Ocean,
nearly ten leagues west of the Land's End. These
islands were first called Cassiterides, or the Tin
Isles, from their being rich in that metal. Strabo
says these islands were ten in number, lying
close together, of which only one was uninha-
bited ; the people led an erratic life, lived upon
the produce of their cattle, wore an under gar-
ment which reached down to their ankles, and
over that another, both of a black color, girt
round a little below the breast with a girdle, and
walked with staves in their hands. The riches of
these islands were tin and lead, which, with the
skins of their cattle, they exchanged with the
Phoenicians for earthenware, salt, and utensils
made of brass. Other ancient writers style
these islands Hesperides, from their western situ-
a'ion, and Oestrymnides, asserting that the land
was extremely fertile, as well as full of mines;
and that the people, though very brave, wero ad -
«li- t. '1 to commerce, and boldlv passed tlu
SCILLY ISLES
375
in their leather coats. The Romans were ex-
ceedingly desirous to obtain a share in this com-
merce, which the Phoenicians as carefully la-
bored to prevent, by concealing their navigation
to these islands. At length, however, the Ro-
mans prevailed ; and Publius Crassus, coming
thither, was so well pleased with the industry
and manners of the people, that he taught them
various improvements, as well in working their
mines, which till that time were but shallow, as
in carrying their merchandise to different markets.
We find them called in the itinerary of Antoninus,
Sigdelcs ; bySulpitius, Siller.ae; and by Solinus
they are termed Silures. All we know of them
after this period is. that their tin trade con-
tinued, and that sometimes state prisoners were
exiled hither as well as to other islands. When
the legions v.ere withdrawn, and Britain with its
dependencies left in the power of the natives,
these islands shared the same lot with the rest.
As to the appellation which from this period pre-
vailed, the ordinary way of writing it is Sully ;
in records we find it spelt Silly, Siiley, or Scilley ;
but we are told the old British appellation was
Sulleh, or Sylleh, which signifies rocks conse-
crated to the sun. Nothing is recorded of them
from the fifth to the tenth century. It is, how-
ever, supposed, that within this space they were
almost destroyed by an earthquake, attended with
a sinking of the earth, by which most of their
lowlands, and of course the greatest part of their
improvements were covered by the sea, and those
rich mines of tin which had rendered them so
famous swallowed up in the deep. They have a
tradition in Cornwall, that a very extensive tract
of country called the Lioness, in the old Cornish
Lethousow, supposed to lie between that coun-
try and Scilly, was thus lost ; and many con-
current circumstances render this probable. In
reference to these islands, the case is still
stronger ; for at low ebbs their stone enclosures
are still visible from almost all the isles. The
fertility of the islands is mentioned in all the an-
cient accounts. There is mention made of a
breed, of wild swine, and the inhabitants had
great plenty of fowl and fish. But, notwithstand-
ing the fertility of the country, it was but thinly
peopled, because they were liable to be often
spoiled by French or Spanish pirates. In time
of war, the importance of these islands is con-
spicuous. In 1651 Sir John Grenville took
shelter in them with the remains of the Cornish
cavaliers. The depredations committed by his
frigates soon made it evident that Scilly was the
key of the English commerce ; and the clamors
of the merchants thereupon rose so high that the
parliament was forced to send a fleet of fifty sail,
with a great body of land forces on board, under
Sir George Ayscue and admiral Blake, who, with
great difficulty, and considerable loss, made
themselves masters of Trescaw and Brehar;
where they erected those lines and fortifications
near the remains of the old fortress called
Oliver's Castle. But at length they granted Sir
John Grenville a most honorable capitulation, as
the surest means to recover places of such conse-
quence. On the 22nd of October, 1707, several
ships were wrecked on these rocks. It was thick
<bggy weather, and the night was extremely dark,
when the British fleet under Sir Cloudesley Sho-
vel, returning from an unsuccessful expedition
against Toulon, mistaking these rocks tor land,
struck upon them. The Association, in which Sir
Cloudesley was, with his lady's two sons, several
other persons of distinction, and 800 brave men,
struck first, and went immediately to the bottom :
the Eagle, under captain Hancock, soon shared
the same fate : the Romney and the 1'ircbrand
were also lost, but the two captains and twenty-
five meu were saved. The rest of the fleet es-
caped, having notice of the fate of these ships.
There are five of these islands now inhabited.
The largest of these is St. Mary's, which is two
miles and a half in length, about one mile and a
half in breadth, and between nine and ten miles
in compass. On the west side there projects
an isthmus. Beyond this there is a peninsula,
which is very high ; and upon which stands Star
Castle, built in 1593, with some outworks and
batteries. On these there are upwards of sixty
pieces of cannon mounted ; and for the defence
of which there is a garrison. Under the castle
barracks and lines stands Hugh Town, built so
low as to be subject to inundations. A mile
within land stands Church Town, which, besides
the church consists of a few houses only, with a
court house. About two furlongs east of this
lies the Old Town, where there are more houses,
and some of them very convenient dwellings.
Treslaw lies two miles directly north of St.
Mary's. It was formerly styled St. Nicholas's
Island ; and was at least as large as St. Mary's,
though at present about half the size. The re-
mains of the abbey are yet visible. There are
about ten stone houses, with a church, which
compose the Dolphin Town ; an old castle built
in the reign of Henry VIII., called Oliver's
Castle ; and a block-house raised out of the ruins
of that castle. This island is noted for producing
plenty of the finest samphire, and the only tin
works that are now visible are found in it.
A mile to the east of Trescaw, and about two
miles from the most northern part of St. Mary's'
lies the isle of St. Martin's, not much inferior
in size to that of Trescaw. St. Martin's produces
corn, affords the best pasture in these islands
and feeds a great number of sheep. St. Agnes,
which is also called the Light-house Island, lies
nearly three miles south-west of St. Mary's : and
is, though small, well cultivated, fruitful in corn
and grass. — The only inconvenience is the want
of good water; the great advantage consists in
having several good coves or small ports, where
boats may lie in safety. The light-house is the
principal ornament and great support of the
island, which stands on the most elevated ground,
built with stone from the foundation to the lan-
tern, which is fifty-one feet high. Brehar, or,
as pronounced, Bryer Island, lies north-west of
St. Mary's, and west of Trescaw, to which, when
the sea is very low, they sometimes pass over on
the sand. It is very mountainous, abounds with
sea and land fowls, excellent samphire, and a
great variety of medical herbs. The air of these
islands is equally mild and pure ; their winters
are seldom subject to frost or snow. When the
former happens it lasts not long; and the latter
never lies upon the ground. The heat of their
SCI
376
SCI
summers is much abated by sea-breezes. They
are indeed frequently incommoded by sea fogs,
but these are not unwholesome. The soil is very
good, and produces grain of all sorts (except
wheat, of which they had anciently plenty) in
large quantities. They still raise a little wheat,
but the bread made of it is unpalatable. They
eat, for this reason, chiefly what is made of bar-
ley. Potatoes prosper, and roots of all kinds,
pulse, and sallads, grow well ; dwarf fruit-trees,
gooseberries, currants, raspberries, &c., under
proper shelter, thrive exceedingly ; but they have
no trees. They have wild fowls of all sorts, from
the swan to the snipe; and a particular kind
called the hedge chicken, which is not inferior to
the ortolan : also tame fowls, puffins, and rabbits,
in great numbers. Their black cattle are small,
but well tasted, though they feed upon sea-weed.
Their horses are small, but strong and lively.
They have also large flocks of fine sheep, whose
fleeces are good, and their flesh excellent. St.
Mary's harbour is very safe and capacious, having
that island on the south ; the eastern islands,
with that of St. Martin, on the east ; Trescaw,
Brehar, and Samson, to the north ; St. Agnes,
and several small islands, to the west. Ships
ride here in three to five 'athoms water, with
good anchorage. Into this harbour there are
four inlets, viz. Broad Sound, Smith's Sound,
St. Mary's Sound, and Crow Sound ; so that
hardly any wind can blow with which a ship of
150 tons cannot safely sail through one or other
of them, Crow Sound only excepted, where they
cannot pass at low water, but at high tide there
is from ^ixteen to twenty-four feet in this pas-
sage. There are also two other harbours, viz.
New Grynsey, which lies between Brehar and
Trescaw, where ships of 300 tons may ride
securely; and Old Grynsey, between Trescaw,
St. Helen's, and Theon, for smaller ships. The
former is guarded by the batteries at Oliver's
Castle ; the latter by the blockhouse on the east
side of Trescaw, called Dover. In this harbour,
and in all the little coves of the several isles, pro-
digious quantities of mackerel may be caught in
their season ; also soal, turbot, and plaice ; and
ling, which, from its being a thicker fish, mel-
lower, and better fed, is very justly preferred to
*ny caught nearer our own coasts. Salmon, cod,
and pollock, are in great plenty, and pilchards in
vast abundance. The alga marina, fucus or sea
weed, serves to feed both their small and great
cattle, manures their lands, is burned into kelp,
is sometimes preserved, sometimes pickled, and
is in many other respects very beneficial to the
inhabitants. The civil government is adminis-
tered by the court of twelve ; in which the com-
mander in chief, the proprietors' agent, and the
chaplain, have their seats in virtue of their
offices : the other nine are chosen by the people.
These decide or compromise all differences ; and
punish small offences by fines, whippings, &c. ;
except for the soldiers, there is no prison in the
islands. But, in case of capital offences, the
criminals may be transported to the county of
Cornwall, and there brought to justice. The
great importance of these islands arises from their
advantageous situation, as looking equally into
St. George's Channel, which divides Great Bri-
tain from Ireland, and the English Channel,
which separates Britain from France. For this
reason, most ships bound from the south-
ward strive to make the Scilly Islands, to steer
their course with greater certainty. It is very
convenient also for vessels to take shelter amongst
them ; which prevents their being driven to
Milford Haven, or some port in Ireland, if the
wind is strong at east ; or, if it blows hard at
north-west, from being forced back into some of
the Cornish harbours, or even on the French
coasts.
SCIMITAR, n. s. See CIMETER. A short
sword with B convex edge.
I'll heat his blood with Greekish wine to-night,
Which with my scimitar I'll cool to-morrow.
Shakspeare.
SCINTILLATION, n. s. Lat. scintillatio.
The act of sparkling ; sparks emitted.
He saith the planets' scintillation is not seen, be-
cause of their propinquity. Glanville's Scepiis.
These scintillations are not the accension of the air
upon the collision of two hard bodies, but rather the
inflammable effluences discharged from the bodies
collided. Browne,
With airy lens the scattered rays assault ;
And bend the twilight round the dusky vault ;
Ride, with broad eye and scintillating hair,
The rapid fire-ball through the midnight air.
Darwin.
SCIO, the ancient Chios, an island of the
Grecian Archipelago, thirty miles in length, from
ten to eighteen in breadth, and ninety in circum-
ference, composed of high mountains, which are
rendered, by the industry of the inhabitants,
very productive. The plain, extending for some
leagues round the town, is celebrated for its ex-
traordinary beauty and fertility. Here also are
some quarries of a reddish freestone. The air
is good, though, from its great communication
with other places, it is much exposed to the
plague. Corn raised is not sufficient for the
consumption, and herbage is so scarce that they
give their cotton shrubs to the cattle after the
cotton is gathered, and preserve the dried leaves
of the vines for them in winter. This want
renders all animal food dear, except goat's flesh.
See GREECE.
Scio, the capital of the above island, situated
in a shallow bay on its eastern coast. Here is a
good road for the largest shipping, and a mole,
which forms a tolerable harbour. The castle is
a large Venetian fort, which has been used as a
place of confinement for state prisoners. To the
east of the present city is the Palaio Castro, or
old town. The population is stated at 35,000.
Long. 25° 54' E., lat. 38° 23' N.
SCI'OLIST, n. s. Lat. sciolus. One who
knows many things superficially.
I could wish these sciolout zelotists had more judg-
ment joined with their zeal. Howel.
Twas this vain idolizing of authors which gave
birth to that silly vanity of impertinent citations ;
these ridiculous fooleries signify nothing to the more
generous discerners, but the pedantry of the affected
sciolists. Glanville'i Sstptii
These passages were enough to humble the pre-
sumption of our modern sciolists, if their pride were
not as great as their ignorance. Temple.
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377
SCI
SCIOM'ACHY, n. s. Fr. schiamac hie ; Gr.
OKia and pax*]- Battle with a shadow. It
should be written sciamachy.
To avoid this sciomachy, or imaginary combat of
words, let me know, Sir, what you mean by the name
of tyrant? Coicley.
SCI'ON, n. s. Fr. scion. A small twig taken
from one tree to be engrafted into another.
Sweet maid, we marry
A gentle scion to the wildest stock ;
And make conceive a bark of baser kind
11 y bud of nobler race. Shakspeare. Winter'* Tale.
.March, is drawn, in his left hand blossoms, and
soiois upon his arm. Peacham.
The scions are best of an old tree .
Mortimer t Husbandry.
SCIOPPIUS (Caspar), a learned German
writer of the seventeenth century, born at Neu-
mark, in the Upper Palatinate, in 1576. He
studied at the university, and, at the age of six-
teen, became an author. He abjured the system
of the Protestants, and became a Roman Catho-
lic about 1559. He possessed all those qualities
which fitted him for making a distinguished
figure in the literary world ; imagination, me-
mory, profound learning, and invincible impu-
dence. But he neither showed respect to his
superiors, nor decency to his equals. Joseph
Scaliger, above all others, was the object of his
satire. That learned man, having drawn up the
history of his own family, and deduced its
genealogy from princes, was severely attacked
and ridiculed by Scioppius. Scaliger in his turn
wrote a book entitled The Life and Parentage of
Caspar Scioppius. This inflamed Scioppius
still more : he collected all the calumnies thrown
out against Scaliger, and formed them into a
huge volume. He treated with great contempt
James I., king of England, in his Ecclesiasticus,
&c , and in his Collyrium Regium Britannia
Regi, graviter ex oculis laboranti munere mis-
sum. He had also the audacity to abuse Henry
IV. of France in a most scurrilous manner, on
which account his book was burned at Paris.
Provoked by his insolence to their sovereign, the
servants of the English ambassador assaulted
him at Madrid, and chastised him severely. For
his furious assaults upon the most eminent men
he was called the Cerberus of literature. He
died on the 19th November, 1649, aged seventy-
four, at Padua, the only retreat which remained
to him. 400 books are ascribed to him, which
discover great genius and learning. The chief
of these are, 1. Verisimilium Libri IV. 1596, in
8vo. 2. Commentarius de Arte Critica, 1661,
in 8vo. 3. De sua ad Catholicos Migratione,
1660, in 8vo. 4. Notationes Criticae in Phae-
drurn, in Priapeia, Patavii, 1664, in 8vo. 5.
Suspectarum Lectionum Libra V. 16G4, in 8vo.
6. Classicum belli sacn, 1619, in 4to. 7. Colly-
liura regium, 1611, in 8vo. 8. Grammatica
Philosophica, 1644, in 8vo. 9. Relatio ad Reges
et Principes de Stratagematibus Societatis Jesu,
1641, in 12mo. This last was published under
the name of Alphonso de Vargas.
SCIOTO, a river of the United States, which
rises in Ohio, near the sources of the Sandusky.
Its course is east by south ; and it passes by
Columbus, Cocleville, and Chillicothe, and runs
into the Ohio, at Portsmouth, in^lat. 38° 34' N.,
352 miles below Pittsburg. It is navigable for
large keel boats to Columbus, and for canoes
almost to its head. There is a convenient port-
age between it and the Sundusky of four miles.
SCIPIO, the cognomen of a celebrated family
in ancient Rome, who were a branch of the Cor-
nelian family, and by their bravery and other
virtues rose to the highest honors in the republic.
This surname was derived from scipio, a staff",
because one of their ancestors had led his father
when blind, and been to him as a walking staff.
SCIPIO (Cnseus Cornelius), Asina, was consul
A. U. C. 492, and 498. During his first consul-
ship he was defeated in a naval battle, and lost
seventeen ships; but in 493 he took Aleria, in
Corsica, and defeated the Carthaginians under
Hauno, in Sardinia, took 200 of their ships, and
the city of Panormum in Sicily.
SCIPIO (Cnseus), and SCIPIO (Publius), sons
of Asina. In the beginning of the second Punic
war Publius was sent with an army into Spain
to oppose Hannibal ; but, hearing that Hannibal
had gone to Italy, he endeavoured by quick
marches to stop him. Hannibal, however, de-
feated him near the Ticinus, where he would have
lost his life had not his son (afterwards the famed
Africanus) bravely defended him. He again
went into Spain, where he gained several memo-
rable victories over the Carthaginians and inha-
bitants. His brother Cnseus shared the command
with him, but, though at first successful, their
confidence proved their ruin. The/ divided
their army, and soon after Publius was furiously
assailed by the Carthaginians under Mago and
the two Asdrubals. Publius was killed, and
his army cut to pieces. The victors immediately
fell upon Cnaeus, from whom 30,000 Celtiberians
had just revolted. He retired to a hill and de-
fended himself bravely, but was overpowered by
numbers.
SCIPIO (Publius Cornelius), surnamed Afri-
canus, was the son of Publius. He first distin-
guished himself at the battle of Ticinus, as above
mentioned ; and, after the fatal battle of Cannae,
when some Romans proposed to abandon Italy
to the victors, he made his countrymen swear
eternal fidelity to Rome, and enact that the first
who should repeat such a proposal should be
put to death. So early as in his twenty-first year
he was made sedile. On the slaughter of the
Roman armies under his father and uncle, Scipio
was sent to avenge their deaths ; and within four
years he expelled the Carthaginians from Spain,
and reduced it to a Roman province. After these
signal victories he was called home to defend
Rome against Hannibal, but gave it as his opi-
nion that Hannibal could only be conquered in
Africa. On this he was elected consul and sent
to Africa, where his conquests were as rapid as
in Spain ; the Carthaginians under Asdrubal
were totally routed ; and Hannibal called .home
from the gates of Rome. These two great gene-
rals met soon after, but could come to no terms
of agreement. The battle of Zama was therefore
fought, where Scipio was so successful that
20,000 Carthaginians were killed, and as many
made prisoners ; while the Romans lost only
2000. Peace was demanded, and granted, but
SCI
378
SCI
upon the most humiliating terms. On his return
to Rome Scipio was honored with a triumph, and
with the agnomen of Africanus. In the conquest
of Spain a princess of uncommon beauty was
taken prisoner. Scipio, hearing that she had
been betrothed to a young Spanish prince, not
only restored her inviolate to her parents and
lover, but sent rich presents along with her. By
his generous conduct he made not only that
prince, but Masinissa, Syphax, and others, the
friends of Rome. He married Emilia, daughter
of the celebrated Paulus .Emilius, who fell at
the battle of Cannae; and died at his country
seat at Ldternum, about A. A. C. 181, aged only
fifty-one. His widow raised a mausoleum to
his memory, and placed upon it his statue with
that of Ennius. The Romans venerated, when
dead, the virtues of the man they were unjustly
jealous of when living.
SCIPIO (Lucius Cornelius), surnamed Asiaticus,
was the brother of the preceding, and accompa-
nied him in his expeditions into Spain and
Africa. He was rewarded with the consulship
for his services, A. U. C. 562 : and was sent
against Antiochus, king of Syria; whom, with
the assistance and advice of his brother Africa-
nus, he completely defeated in a battle at Mag-
nesia, near Sardis, wherein Antiochus lost 50,000
infantry and 4000 cavalry, and soon after sub-
mitted. On his return to Rome, Scipio was
decreed a triumph and the surname of Asiaticus.
But, notwithstanding his victories and disinterest-
ed conduct, Cato the censor accused him of hav-
ing received money from Antiochus, which he
had not accounted for. This produced an
enquiry, and a prejudiced judge decided against
Scipio and his two lieutenants. But, upon con*
fiscating his property, the whole effects of Scipio
did not amount to near the sum he was charged
with. His friends and tenants, in this distress,
made him liberal offers, which he generously
declined. He was soon sent to settle the disputes
between Eumenes and Seleucus, which he ac-
complished; and, on his return, the Romans,
ashamed of their former injustice, rewarded his
merits with such uncommon liberality, that
Asiaticus was enabled to celebrate games in ho-
nor of his victory for ten successive days. He
died about A. A. C. 170.
SCIPIO (Publius Cornelius), jEmilianus, the
son of Paulus yEmilius, the conqueror of Perseus,
was adopted by his cousin Publius Cornelius
Scipio, the son of Scipio Africanus and .Emilia.
He first appeared in the Roman army under his
father ; and distinguished himself as a legionary
tribune in Spain, where he killed a Spanish giant,
and obtained a mural crown at the siege of In-
tercatia. Soon after he was made icdile, and
elected consul, though under the usual age qua-
lifying for these high offices. He was then sen
to Africa to finish the third Punic war, which he
carried on and completed, till he had accom-
plished the inhuman decree of Cato and the
senate, by the total destruction of that city
republic, and people, A. A. C. 147. .'Emilianus
is said, in the midst of his victory, to have wept
over the miseries of this unfortunate people; it
had been better had he saved them. Another
commission, equally horrible and bloody, the
same Scipio was, a few years after this, employ-
ed by the senate to execute upon the brave but
unfortunate inhabitants of Numantia in Spain ;
and which he executed with equal success and
equal horrors, A. A. C. 133. For these conquests
j-Emilianus was honored with two triumphs, and
the double titles of Africanus junior, and Nu-
mantinus. Yet his popularity was short. He
incurred the displeasure of the people by vindi-
cating the murder of his cousin and brother-in-
law, their favorite, Tiberius Gracchus. He was
afterwards accused by his enemies of aspiring to
the dictatorship. Not long after he was found
strangled in his bed ; which was said to have
been done by the triumviri, PapiriusCarbo, Caius
Gracchus, and Fulvius Flaccus, on account of
his opposition to the Sempronian Law ; and bis
wife Sempronia was accused of having admitted
the assassins into his bed chamber. This murder
was committed A. A. C. 128.
SCIPIO (C. Cornelius, Nasica), was the son of
Cnaeus Scipio. He was at first refused the con-
sulship, though supported by the interest of
Africanus, but afterwards obtained it ; when he
was sent against the Boii, whom he conquered,
and was decreed a triumph. He was also suc-
cessful in an expedition into Spain. It is re-
corded to his honor, that when the image of the
goddess Cybele was brought from Phrygia, the
senate decreed, that one of their body, who was
most eminent for purity of morals, should be
delegated to meet the goddess at Ostia, and
Nasica was appointed, as best suiting that cha-
racter. Nasica also distinguished himself as an
orator, and the friend of persecuted virtue, by his
zeal in confuting the invidious calumnies invent-
ed against his relations Africanus and Asiaticus.
SC1RPUS, in botany, rush grass, a genus of
the monogynia order, and triandria class of
plants, natural order third, calamariae : glumes
paleaceous, and imbricated all round : COR.
none, and only one beardless seed. Species
sixty-seven, nine of which are common in the
bogs and marshes of our own country.
SCI'RRUS," n. s. Fr. scirrhe. This should
be written skirrhus, says Johnson, not merely
because it comes from mcippo'c, but because c in
English has before e and i the sound of *. See
SKEPTICK. An indurated gland.
Any of these three may degenerate into a scirrhus,
and that scirrhtu into a cancer. Witeman.
How they are to be treated when they are strum-
ous, tcirrhous, or cancerous, you may see. Id.
The difficulty of breathing, occasioned by tchirrho-
ritiet of the glands, is not to be cured.
Arbuthnt>t on Ditt.
SCIRRHUS, in surgery and medicine, is a hard
tumor of any part of the body, void of pain, and
exceedingly apt to degenerate into cancers. See
SURGERY.
SCIS'SOR, n. s., or'j This word is varions-
SCIS'SORS, I ly written, as it is sup-
SCIS'SIBLE, adj. I posed to be derived by
SCIS'SILE, [different writers; of
SCIS'SION, n. s. I which some write c«-
SCIS'SVRE. J sors, from c<e-do or in-
cido ; others scissors, from scindo , and some
cisars, cizars, or scissars, from Fr. ciseatu ;
Thomson says Fr. ciseuux, from Lat. scindo. A
S C I U R U S.
379
small pair of shears : scissible and scissile mean
capable of being cut by any instrument of this
kind : scission, the act of cutting : scissure, the
cut made.
His beard they have singed off with brands of
fire;
And ever, as it blazed, they threw on him
Great pails of puddled mire to quench the hair :
My master preaches patience to him, and the while
His man with scissors nicks him for a fool.
Shakspeare.
The differences of impressible and not impressible,
scissible and not scistible, and many other passions of
matter, are plebeian notions. Bacon.
The breach seems like the zcissures and ruptures of
an earthquake, and threatens to swallow all that at-
tempt to close it, and reserves its cure only for
omnipotence. Decay of Piety.
Wanting the scissars, with these hands I'll tear,
If that obstruct my flight, this load of hair. Prior.
\\ hen the lawyers and tradesmen brought extra-
vagant bills, Sir Roger wore a pair of scissars in his
pocket, with which he would snip a quarter of a yard
off nicely. Arbnthnot.
Animal fat is a sort of amphibious substance, scis-
lihle like a solid, and resolvable by heat. Id.
IVerves may be wounded by scission or puncture :
the former way they are usually cut through, and
wholly cease from action, H'iseman't Surgery.
SCIURUS, in botany, a genus of the mono-
gynia order, and diandria class of plants : CAL.
quinquedentate : coil, bilabiated : the filaments
are barren : CAPS, five, and joined together :
bivalved, unilocular, with one seed. Of this
there is only one species, viz.
S. aromatica, a native of Guiana.
SCIURUS, in zoologj, the squirrel, a genus of
quadrupeds belonging to the order of glires. It
has two fore-teeth in each jaw, the superior ones
shaped like wedges, and the inferior ones sharp
pointed. Some species of this genus are pro-
vided with hairy membranes extended from the
fore to the hind legs, by which they are enabled
to bear themselves in the air, when leaping from
one tree to another ; from this circumstance the
genus is very properly broken, into two subdivi-
sions, distinguished by the want or possession of
this membrane. The former are called sciuri
scandentes, or climbing squirrels; the latter
petauri, or flying squirrels. Mr. Kerr enumerates
thirty-one species, and twelve varieties of the
former ; and eight species with two varieties of
the latter. The following are the chief: —
1. S. Abyssinicus, th« Abyssinian squirrel, is
of a rusty black color on the back; the fore feet
and belly gray ; the tail one foot and a half long.
It inhabits Abyssinia. It is thrice the size of the
common species ; the nose and soles of the feet
are flesh-colored. One was purchased by The-
venot in Arabia from an Abyssinian. It was
good-natured and sportive ; eat of every thing but
flesh, and cracked the hardest almonds.
2. S. EPstuans, the Brasilian squirrel, is of a
dusky color, tinged with yellowish on the upper
part of the body ; the inside of the legs and
belly yellow, with a white stripe along the
middle of the belly ; the tail is round and an-
nulated with black and yellow. They inhabit
Brasil and Guiana. The ears are plain and
roundish, the fur soft, the head and body eight
inches, the tail ten.
3. S. albipes, the white-legged squirrel, has
ears slightly tufted with black hair ; the head,
upper parts of the body, sides, and toes, reddish
brown ; the under parts and legs white, as well
as the face, nose, under side of the neck, inside
of the ears, breast, belly, fore legs, and inside of
the hind thighs; the tail is long and covered with
dusky hair, much shorter than in the common
species. They inhabit Ceylon.
4. S. anomalus, the Georgian squirrel, is of a
yellow color, mixed with dusky on the upper
parts and tail ; the under parts a dull tawny ;
the ears plain and rounded, flame yellow, whitish
within ; the circumference of the mouth is white ;
the tip of the nose black ; the cheeks tawny ; the
whiskers and region of the eyes dusky. This
species is larger than the common squirrel ; they
inhabit Georgia in Asia.
5. S. bicolar, the Javan squirrel, has the upper
parts of the body black, the under tawny ; the
thumbs are provided with large round flat nails ;
the ears are plain, hairy, and sharp pointed.
The head and body are about a foot long ; the
tail is a foot, tipt with black ; the under parts
are light brown ; the hind feet black ; the claws
on the fore feet sharp, except the nail on the
fifth toe ; the thumbs are very short. They in-
habit Java.
6. S. Capensis, the Cape squirrel, is of a pale
ferruginous color on the upper parts of the body,
mixed with black ; with a white line from the
shoulder, along each side ; the tail is black in
the middle, and hoary at the sides ; the ears are
scarcely apparent, whence M. Pennant calls it
the earless dormouse. This species never climbs '
trees, but burrows in the ground, forming a warm
nest, with a round hole; in which it lodges,
closing up the orifice. It feeds on bulbous
roots, especially potatoes ; it is very tame, and
never offers to bite; walks on its hind feet; often
lies flat on its belly, and flirts up its tail. The
head is flat, with a blunt nose, full black eyes,
divided upper lip, and long whiskers; the belly
and feet a dirty white ; there is a white line
above each eye ; the toes are long and distinct,
with a large knob on each foot for a thumb ; the
claws are long ; the hind legs black and naked
behind. It is the size of the common squirrel,
but much broader and flatter. They are found
near Mount Sneeberg, 800 miles north of the
Cape of Good Hope.
7. S. cinereus, the gray squirrel, with plain
ears ; hair of a dull gray color, mixed with
black, and often tinged with dirty yellow ; belly
and inside of the legs white; tail long, bushy,
gray, and striped with black; size of a half
grown rabbit. It inhabits the woods of northern
Asia, North America, Peru, and Chili ; is very
numerous in North America, and does incredible
damage to the plantations of maize, running up
the stalks and eating the young ears ; they are
proscribed by the provinces, and a reward of
threepence per head given for every one that is
killed. They make their nests in hollow trees,
with moss, straw, wool, &c., feed on maize in the
season, and on pine-cones, acorns, and mast of
all kinds; form holes undeiground, and there
deposit a large stock of winter piovision ; de-
scend from the trees, and visit their magazines
380
S C I U R U S.
when in want of meat ; are particularly busy at
the approach of bad weather ; during the cold
season keep in their nest for several days toge-
ther ; seldom leap from tree to tree, only run up
and down the bodies ; their hordes are often de-
stroyed by swine ; and, when their magazines are
covered with deep snow, the squirrels often
perish for want of food ; they are not easily shot,
nimbly changing their place when they see the
gun levelled ; have the actions of the common
squirrel ; are easily tamed ; and their flesh is
esteemed very delicate. Their furs, which are
imported under the name of petit-gris, are valu-
able, and used as linings to cloaks.
8. S. erythraeus, the ruddy squirrel, is of a
yellow color, mixed with dusky, on the upper
parts ; the under parts blood-red mixed with
tawny ; the tail the same, with a longitudinal
blackish stripe; the ears slightly tufted. It is
larger than the common squirrel; the fore paws
have a large protuberance instead of a thumb.
They inhabit India.
9. S. flavus, the fair squirrel, with the body
and tail of a flaxen color ; of a very small size,
with plain round ears and rounded tail. Inhabits
the woods near Amadabad, the capital of Guze-
rat, in great abundance, leaping from tree to tree.
Linn6 says it is an inhabitant of Carthagena in
South America.
10. S. Hudsonius, the Labradore squirrel, is of
a ferruginous color along the back, the sides
paler, and the belly ash color mottled with
black ; the tail is like the back, but barred and
tipped with black; the ears are plain. It is
smaller than the common squirrel, and apt to
vary in color to a gray. They inhabit the pine
forests of Labradore, and round Hudson's Bay.
11. S. Indicus, the Bombay squirrel, is of a
dull purple color on the head, back, sides, and
upper parts of the legs and thighs ; the belly
and lower parts yellow ; the tail tipt with
orange ; the ears tufted. The head and body
are sixteen inches long; the tail seventeen.
They inhabit India, near Bombay.
12. S. Madagascarensis, the Madagascar
squirrel, in the slowness of its pace and general
manners resembles the sloth ; but in the form of
its tail, the number and form of its toes, five on
each foot, and the number and arrangement of
its teeth, it is more nearly allied to the squirrel.
It lives in holes under ground ; is slothful, timid,
and sleeps much; it feeds chiefly on worms,
picked from the hollows of trees by its toes.
The middle toe on the fore feet is very long and
naked; the thumb on the hind feet has a flat
rounded nail. The ears are large, flattened,
black, and covered thickly with rough hair ; the
face has two bunches of hair above the eyes, on
the nose and cheeks, and under the chin ; the
fur is of two sorts, an under downy fleece-like
wool, of a pale tawny, with longer straight black
hairs intermixed, the face and throat are of a pale
whitish tawny color ; the tail is flattened, about
eighteen inches long, covered with thick set white
hair from the base to the middle, and the rest
black ; the toes on the fore paws are long ; four
of the claws on the hind feet are hooked and
sharp-pointed. They inhabit the east side of
Madagascar.
13. S. maximus, the Malabar squirrel, is of a
red brown color on the upper parts ; the under
parts and tail black ; the ears lightly tufted, it
is about the size of a large cat ; has small erect
ears, long hair, strong black claws ; and a small
protuberance instead of a thumb on the fore
paws, with a flat nail. Thev inhabit the Malabar
coast, and province of Mane in India ; feed
chiefly on the milk of the cocoa nut, and have a
loud sonorous voice.
14. S. niger, the black squirrel, with plain
ears ; sometimes wholly black, but often marked
with white on the nose, the neck, or end of the
tail ; the tail shorter than that of the cinereus,
the body equal. They inhabit the north of Asia,
North America, and Mexico; breed and asso-
ciate in separate troops ; are equally numerous
with the cinereus, commit as great ravages
among the maize, make their nests in the same
manner, and form magazines for winter food.
The finest are taken near the lake Baikal, which
are the best in all Siberia ; these continue black
the whole year, the others grow rusty in sum-
mer.
15. S. palmarum, the palm squirrel, is of a
mixed black and red color, with three longitu-
dinal yellow stripes on the back and sides; the
tail is encircled with coarse dirty yellow hair,
and is barred with black. — Shreber. This spe-
cies inhabit the hot regions of Asia and Africa ;
live much on cocoa nuts, and are fond of the
sury, or palm wine, whence the Dutch call them
suricatsjie, or little cats of the sury. They are
only three inches long ; the tail is as long, and
is carried erect, the ears are short, broad, and
fringed with hair -At the edges ; an obscure pale
yellow stripe runs along the back, and othei two
on each side. The hair on the head, back, and
sides, is a mixed black and red ; on the thighs
and legs redder; on the belly pale yellow.
16. S. petaurus australis, the southern flying
squirrel, is the largest and most elegant of all the
flying squirrels ; its most remarkable characteris-
tic is the rounded thumbs or great toes of the
hind feet, which are furnished with a flattened
nail, while all the other toes, five to each foot,
have sharp hooked claws ; the two toes next this
are united by the skin, but have separate claws;
the color is a fine sable, or deep gray-brown, on
the upper parts, darkest on the middle of the
back, and the under parts are nearly white ; the
edges of the membrane are somewhat scalloped,
and of a lighter color ; the fur is exquisitely soft
and beautiful ; the tail is long and bushy, thickly
clothed with very soft loose hair, longest towards
the outer end ; the ears are longish, and there is
a black streak over each eye. They inhabit New
South Wales.
17. S. petaurus petaurista, the Indian flying
squirrel, or flying cat, has a tail longer than the
body, flattened, and very full of long hair. This
species is eighteen inches long from nose to
rump ; the head is rounded ; the whiskers and
claws are black ; the female has six teats on tho
breast and belly ; the eyes have long narrow pv
pils like those of a cat. They inhabit the island*
of the Indian Ocean. There are two varieties.
18. S. petaurus sagitta, the arrow or Java fly-
ing squirrel, with a small round head, cloven
S C I U R U S.
381
upper lip ; small blunt ears, two small warts at
the utmost corner of each eye, with hairs grow-
ing out of them : neck short : four toes on the
fore feet, and, instead of a thumb, a slender bone
two inches and a half long, lodged under the
lateral membrane, serving to stretch it out :
thence to the hind legs extends the membrane,
which is broad, and a continuation of the skin
of the sides and belly : there are five toes on the
hind feet ; and on all the toes sharp compressed
bent claws : the tail is covered with long hairs
disposed horizontally ; color of the head, body,
and tail, a bright bay, in some parts inclining to
orange : breast and belly of a yellowish-white :
length, from nose to tail, eighteen inches ; tail
fifteen. They inhabit Java, and others of the
Indian islands : leap from tree to tree as if they
flew, and will catch hold of the boughs with their
tails. Niewhoff, p. 354, describes this under the
name of the flying cat, and says the back is black.
19. S. petaurus volans, the European flying
squirrel, has round naked ears, full black eyes,
and a lateral membrane from the fore to the hind
legs : tail with long hairs disposed horizontally,
longest in the middle ; its color above, a brownish
ash, beneath, white tinged with yellow. They
are much less than the common squirrel : inhabit
Finland, Lapland, Poland, Russia, and North
America; live in hollow trees; sleep in the day;
during the night are very lively ; are gregarious,
numbers being found in one tree; leap from
bough to bough, sometimes at the distance of
ten yards. This action has improperly been
called flying, but the animal cannot go in any
other direction than forward ; and even then
cannot keep an even line, but sinks considerably
before it can reach the place it aims at : sensible
of this, the squirrel mounts the higher in propor-
tion to the distance it wishes to reach : when it
would leap, it stretches out the fore-legs, and,
extending the membranes, becomes specifically
lighter than it would otherwise be, and thus is
enabled to spring farther than other squirrels
that have not this apparatus. When numbeis
leap at a time, they seem like leaves blown off
by the wind. Their food is the same as the other
squirrels. They are easily tamed ; and bring
three or four young at a time.
20. S. petaurus volucella, the American flying
squirrel, is of a brownish color on the upper
parts ; the belly white, tinged with yellow; the
tail is flattened, broadest at the middle, and ends
in a point. This species is easily tamed ; it is
about five inches long from nose to rump, with
a round tail of four inches ; the head is thickish ;
the eyes are black, large, and prominent; the
ears roundish, transparent, almost naked, of a
brownish ash color; the whiskers black, and
longer than the head ; the neck is short. The
fur is very fine and soft, of an ash color, with
white tips on the upper parts ; on the lower,
white and ash all around. The membrane ex-
tends from the ears to the fore and hind legs,
adhering as far as to the toes ; it includes a pecu-
liar bone which is attached to the wrist, and
helps to stretch it out in flying ; on the hind legs
it extends to the ancles. By this membrane the
animal supports itself in the air, as if flying, for
a considerable way ; and it swims nearly in the
same manner. This species inhabit the tempe-
rate and warm parts of North America, living in
societies in the woods, and feeding on fruits and.
seeds, which they procure in the evening, as they
sleep much during the day.
21. S.striatus, the ground-squirrel, with plain
ears ; ridge of the back marked with a black
streak; each side with a pale yellow stripe,
bounded above and below with a line of black :
head, body, and tail, of a reddish brown ; the
tail the darkest ; breast and belly white ; nose
and feet pale red ; eyes full. They inhabit the
north of Asia, but are found most numerous in
the forests of North America. They never run
up trees except they are pursued, and find no
other means of escaping ; they burrow and form
their habitations under ground, with two en-
trances, that they may get access to the one in
case the other is stopped up. Their retreats are
formed with great skill, in form of a long gallery,
with branches on each side, each of which ter-
minates in an enlarged chamber, as a magazine
to store their winter provisions in ; in one they
lodge the acorns, in another the maize, in a third
the hickory nuts, and in the last their favorite
food the chinquapin chestnut. They very seldom
stir out during winter, as long as their provisions
last ; but, if these fail, they will dig into cellars
where apples are kept, or barns where maize is
stored, and do a great deal of mischief; but at
that time the cat destroys great numbers, and is
as great an enemy to them as to mice. During
the maize harvest they are very busy in biting
off the ears, and filling their mouths so full with
the corn that their cheeks are quite distended.
They give great preference to certain food ; for if,
after filling their mouths with rye, they happen
to meet with wheat, they fling away the first,
that they may indulge in the last. They are very
wild, bite severely, and are scarcely ever tamed ;
the skins are of little use, but are sometimes
brought over to line cloaks.
22. S. vulgaris, the common squirrel, has ears
terminated with long tufts of hair ; large, lively,
black eyes ; head, body, legs, and tail, of a bright
reddish brown ; breast and belly white ; hair on
each side the tail lies flat. In Sweden and Lap-
land it changes, in winter, into gray. In Russia
it is sometimes found black. In many parts of
England there is a beautiful variety, with milk-
white tails. This species inhabit Europe and
North America, the northern and the temperate
parts of Asia : and a variety is even found as far
south as the isle of Ceylon. It is a lively, active
animal ; lives always in woods : in the spring,
the female is seen pursued from tree to tree by
the males, feigning an escape from their em-
braces ; makes its nest of moss and dried leaves
between the fork of two branches ; brings from
three to seven young at a time ; has two holes to
its nest; stops up that on the side the wind blows,
which was remarked by Pliny ; lays in a hoard
of winter provision, such as nuts, acorns, &c. ;
in summer, feeds on buds and young shoots ; is
particularly fond of those of fir, and the young
cones ; sits up to eat, and uses its fore-feet as
hands ; covers itself with its tail ; leaps to a sur-
prising distance; when disposed to cross a river,
a piece of wood often serves as its boat, its tail
SCL
382
SCL
forming the sail. Boys frequently nurse this
beautiful and active animal under cats. 'There
are three creatures, the squirrel, the field-mouse,
and the bird called the nuthatch, which live
much on hazel nuts ; and yet they open them
eac h in a different way. The first, after rasping
off the small end, splits the shell in two with his
long fore feet, as a man does with his knife ; the
second nibbles a hole with his teeth, as regular
as if drilled with a wimble, and yet so small that
one would wonder how the kernel can be ex-
tracted through it : while the last pecks an ir-
regular ragged hole with its bill ; but as this artist
has no paws to hold the nut firm while he pierces
it, like an adroit workman he fixes it, as it were in
a vice, in some cleft of a tree, or in some crevice,
when, standing over it, he perforates the stubborn
shell.'— White's Selborne. They are preyed on
by martins and other animals of the mustela and
viverra tribes : also by serpents and birds of prey.
Mr. Kerr describes six varieties.
23. S. vulpinus, the vulpine or fox squirrel,
of the planter, is of a large size, and ruddy
color, mixed with black and dirty white, and has
plain ears. It inhabits Virginia, and is the size
of a small rabbit. The fur is coarse ; the throat
and insides of the thighs and legs are black ; the
tail is shorter than that of the common squirrel ;
and of a dull yellow color, mixed with black
and reddish at the tip, as are also the ears.
SCLAVI, or SLAV i, the ancient inhabitants of
Sclavonia or Slavonia. This name originally
signified illustrious.
SCLAVONIA, a province in the south of the
Austrian empire, which, in official documents,
bears the title of the kingdom of Sclavonia. It
is long and narrow, the Drave and Danube run-
ning along its northern frontiers, and separating
it from Hungary ; while the Save, also a great
river, extends along its southern confines, divid-
ing it from Turkey. Its area is about 6600 square
miles ; population about 530,000. It lies be-
tween 45° and 46° of N. lat.; and, being a
frontier province, its inhabitants are exempt from
taxes, but subject (see the article HUNGARY) to
military duty. The mountainous tracks are bar-
ren in dry years, and in the low "grounds there
are many districts too marshy for cultivation ;
but the greatest part of the country produces
wheat, barley, maize, flax, hemp, and madder.
The fruits are chestnuts, plums, and vines ; also
figs, almonds, and other products of a warm
climate. The forests contain the finest oak.
Domestic animals are reared with little care, and
vast numbers of hogs are found in the woods.
Of wild animals, the bear, the wolf, the fox, the
polecat, and the vulture are common. Equal
mischief is experienced from insects, which mul-
tiply surprisingly in the heats of summer, and it
sometimes happens that a continuance of south-
erly winds brings a swarm of locusts from Tur-
key. The mineral treasures of Sclavonia have
not been explored. The only minerals known to
exist in large quantities are salt, limestone, sul-
phur and coal. The manufactures are insigni-
ficant.
Sclavonia formed part of the ancient Illyria,
and derives its present name from a tribe of
Sclavi or Slavi, wlm settled here in the sixth
century. Then the Venetians, having acquired
possession of Dalmatia, extended their conquests
hither. It remained alternately subject to them
and to the Hungarians, until overrun by the
Turks, in whose possession it continued about
170 years.
SCLERANTHUS, in botany, German knot-
grass, or Knawel, a genus of the digynia order,
and dodecandria class of plants ; natural order
twenty-second, caryophylleifi : CAL. monophyl-
lous: COR. none: there are two SEEDS contained
in the calyx ; species three, natives of this
country.
SCLERIA, in botany, a genus of the tetran-
dria order, and monoecia class of plants ; natural
order fourth, gramina : CAL. a gluma, with from
two to six valves; the flowers are numerous;
the SEEDS a sort of nut, small, oblong, and shin-
ing. There are six species, all natives of the
West Indies.
SCLEROTIC, adj. Fr. sclerotique ; Gr.
<TK\i)poc. Hard ; an epithet of one of the
coats of the eye.
The ligaments observed in the inside of the scle*
rotick tunicles of the eye, seive instead of a muscle,
by their contraction, to alter the figure of the eve.
Ray on the Creation.
SCOFF, v. n. & n. s. i Belgic schoppen ;
SCOFF'ING, n. s. >Goth.s£uip. To treat
SCOFF'IXGLY, adv. J with insolent ridicule,
or contumelious language, with at : the noun-
substantive and adjective corresponding.
With scarf's and scorns, and contumelious taunts,
In open market-place produced they me.
Shakspeare. Henry VI.
Sell when you can ; you are not for all markets :
Cry the man mercy, love him, take his offer ;
Foul is the most foul, being found to be a scoffer.
Shakspeare.
Of two noblemen of the west of England, the
one was given to scoff, but kept ever royal cheer in
his house ; the other would ask of those that had
been at his table, Tell truly, was there never a flout
or dry blow given ? Bacon .
There is no greater argument of a light and incon-
siderate person, than prophanely to tcoff at religion.
Tillotson.
Our answer, therefore, to their reasons is No ; to
their scoffs, nothing. Holder.
Consider what the apostle tells these tcoffers they
were ignorant of ; not that there was a deluge, but
he tells them that they were ignorant that the heavens
and the earth of old were so and so constituted.
Burnet't Theo,y of the Earth.
How could men surrender up their reason to flat-
tery, more abusive and reproachful than the rudest
Ktiffls, and the sharpest invectives? South.
Such is love.
And such the laws of this fantastic empire,
The wanton boy delights to bend the mighty,
And ico/sat the vain wisdom of the wise. Rou-e.
Divers have hoarded themselves among these pro-
fane icofen, not that they are convinced by their rea-
sons, but terrified by their contumelies.
Government of the Tongue.
Aristotle applied this hemistick scojfingly to the sy-
cophants at Athens. Broome.
Some little souls, that have got a smattering of as-
tronomy or chemistry for want of a due acquaint-
ance with other sciences, make a scoff" at them all, in
comparison of the'.r favourite science Watt*.
SCOLOPAX.
383
SCOLD, v. n. & H.S. Saxon rcyh>; Belgic
scholden. To quarrel clamorously and rudely ;
rate with the tongue; a scold is a skilful, or
properly a practised person in the use of that
weapon.
Pardon me, 'tis the time that ever
I'm forced to scold. Shakspeare. Coriolamu.
They attacked me, some with piteous moans,
others grinning, and only shewing their teeth, others
ranting, and others scolding and reviling.
Stillingfle".t.
Sun-burnt matrons mending- old nets ;
Now singing shrill, and scolding oft between ;
Scolds answer foul-mouthed scolds. Su-ift.
For gods, we are by Homer told,
Can in celestial language scold. Id.
A shrew in domestick life is now become a tcold in
politicks. Addison's Freeholder.
SCOLOPAX, in ornithology, a genus of birds
belonging to the order of grallae. The back is
cylindrical, obtuse, and longer than the head ;
the nostrils are linear : the face is covered ; and
the feet have four toes. There are numerous
species, of which the following are a selection :
1. S. aegocephala, the godwit, weighs twelve
ounces and a half, the length is sixteen inches ;
the breadth twenty-seven ; the bill is four inches
long, turns up a little, black at the end, the rest
a pale purple ; from the bill to the eye is a broad
white stroke ; the feathers of the head, neck, and
back, are of a light reddish brown, marked in
the middle with a dusky spot; the belly and
vent feathers white, the tail regularly barred with
black and white. The six first quill-feathers are
black ; their interior edges of a reddish brown ;
the legs in some are dusky, in others of a grayish
blue, which perhaps may be owing to different
edges ; the exterior toe is connected as far as the
first joint of the middle toe with a strong ser-
rated membrane. The male is distinguished
from the female by some black lines on the
breast and throat. These birds are taken in the
fens, in the same season and in the same manner
with the ruffs and reeves (see TKINGA); and
when fattened are esteemed a great delicacy, and
sell for 2s. 6rf. or 5s. a piece. A stale of the
same species is placed in the net. They appear
in small flocks on our coast in September, and
continue with us the whole winter ; they walk on
the open sands like the curlew, and feed on insects.
2. S. arquata, the curlew, frequents our sea-
coasts and marshes in winter, in large flocks,
walking 'on the open sands ; feeding on shells,
frogs, crabs, and other marine insects. In sum-
mer they retire to the mountainous and unfre-
quented parts of the country, where they pair
and breed. Their eggs are of a pale olive color,
marked with irregular but distinct spots of pale
brown. Their flesh is very rank and fishy ; they
differ much in weight and size ; some weighing
thirty-seven ounces, others not twenty-two : the
length of the largest to the tip of the tail, twenty-
rive inches ; the breadth three feet five inches ;
the bill is seven inches long : the head, neck,
and coverts of the wings, are of a pale brown ;
the middle of each feather black ; the breast and
belly white, marked with narrow oblong black
lines : the back is white, spotted with a few black
strokes : the quill feathers are black, but the
inner webs spotted with white ; the tail is white,
tinged with red, and beautifully bam fl v. i'l.
black ; the legs are long, strong, and of a bluish
gray color : the bottoms of the toes flat and
broad, to enable it to walk on the soft mud in
search of food.
3. S. calidris, the red-shank, is found on most
of our shores ; in the winter time it conceals it-
self in the gutters, and is generally found single,
or at most in pairs. It breeds in the fens and
maishes, and flies round its nest when disturbed,
making a noise like a lapwing. It lays four
eggs, whitish tinged with olive, marked with ir-
regular spots of black chiefly on the thicker end.
It weighs five ounces and a half: the length is
twelve inches, the breadth twenty-one ; the bill
nearly two inches long, red at the base, black to-
wards the point. The head, hind part of the
neck, and scapulars, are of a dusky ash-color,
obscurely spotted with black ; the back is white,
sprinkled with black spots; the tail elegantly
barred with black and white ; the cheeks, under
side of the neck, and upper part of the breast
are white, streaked downward with dusky lines ;
the belly white ; the exterior webs of the quill-
feathers are dusky ; the legs long, and of a fine
bright orange color ; the utmost toe connected
to the middle toe by a small membrane ; the
inmost by another still smaller.
4. S. gallinago, the common snipe, the length
to the end of the tail is nearly twelve inches ; the
breadth about fourteen ; the bill is three inches
long, of a dusky color, flat at the end, and often
rough like shagreen above and below. The head
is divided lengthways with two black lines, and
three red, one of the last passing over the mid-
dle of the head, and one above each eye : be-
tween the bill and the eyes is a dusky line ; the
chin is white ; the neck is varied with brown
and red. The scapulars are beautifully striped
lengthways with black and yellow ; the quill-
feathers are dusky ; but the edge of the first is
white, as are the tips of the secondary feathers :
the quill-feathers next the back are barred with
black and ^ale red ; the breast and belly are
white ; the coverts of the tail are long, and al-
most cover it ; they are of a reddish-brown co-
lor. The tail consists of'fourteen feathers, black
on their lower part, then crossed with a broad
bar of deep orange, another narrow one of black ;
and the ends white or pale orange. The legs
pale green ; the toes divided to their origin. In
the winter time snipes are very frequent in all
marshy and wet grounds, where they lie con-
cealed in the rushes, &c. In summer they dis-
perse to different parts, and are found in the
midst of the highest mountains as well as of the
low moors ; their nest is made of dried grass ;
they lay four eggs of a dirty olive color, marked
with dusky spots. When they are disturbed
much, particularly in the breeding season, they
soar to a vast height, making a singular bleating
noise ; and, when they descend, dart down with
vast rapidity : it is also amusing to observe the
cock, while his mate sits on her eggs, poise him-
self on her wings, making sometimes a whistling
and sometimes a drumming noise. Their food
is the same with that of the woodcock ; their
flight very irregular and swift, and attended with
a shrill scream. These birds are found in every
quarter of the glol>e, and in very various cli-
mates.
SCO
384
SCO
5. S. glottis, the greenshank, is in length to the
end of the tail fourteen inches ; to that of the
toes twenty ; its breath twenty-fire. The bill is
two inches and a half long ; the upper mandible
black, straight, and very slender ; the lower re-
flects a little upwards ; the head and upper part
of the neck are ash-colored, marked with small
dusky lines pointing down ; over each passes a
white line ; the coverts, the scapulars, and upper
part of the back, are of a brownish ash-color ;
the quill-feathers dusky, but the inner webs
speckled with white ; the breast, belly, thighs,
and lower part of the back, are white; the tail
is white, marked with undulated dusky bars :
the inner coverts of the wings finely crossed with
• double and treble rows of a dusky color. It is
a bird of an elegant shape, and small weight in
proportion to its dimensions, weighing only six
ounces. The legs are very long and slendw,
and bare two inches above the knees. The ex-
terior toe is united to the middle toe, as far as
the second joint, by a strong membrane which
borders their sides to the very end. — These
birds appear on the English coast and wet
grounds in the winter time in but small num-
bers.
6. S. rusticola, the woodcock, during summer
inhabits the Alps of Norway, Sweden, Polish
Prussia, and the northern parts of Europe : they
all retire from those countries the beginning of
winter, as soon as the frosts commence ; which
force them into milder climates, where the ground
is open, and adapted to their manner of feeding.
They live on worms and insects, which they
search for with their long bills in soft grounds
and moist woods. — Woodcocks generally arrive
here in flocks, taking advantage of the night
or a mist : they soon separate ; but, before they
return to their native haunts, pair. They feed
and fly by night ; beginning their flight in
the evening, and return the same way to their
day retreat. They leave England in the end
of February or beginning of March; though
they sometimes continue longer. These birds
appear in Scotland first on the eastern coasts,
and make their progress from east to west.
Our species of woodcock is unknown in North
America : but a kind is found that has the ge-
neral appearance of it ; but is scarcely half the
•size, and wants the bars on the breast and belly.
The length nearly fourteen inches ; and the
breadth twenty-six ; the bill is three inches
long, dusky towards the end, reddish at the
base ; tongue slender, long, sharp, and hard
at the point ; the eyes large, and placed near
the top of the head, that they may not be
injured when the birds thrusts its bill into the
ground ; from the bill to the eyes is a black line;
the forehead is a reddish ash-color ; the crown of
the head, the hind part of the neck, the back,
the covert of the wings, and the scapulars, are
prettily barred with a ferruginous red, black, and
gray ; but on the head the black predominates :
the quill feathers are dusky, indented with red
itnjks. The chin is of a pale yellow ; the whole
under side of the body is of a dirty white,
marked with numerous transverse lines of a
dusky color. The tail consists of twelve fea-
thers, dusky or 'ilack on the one web, and marked
with red on the other ; the tips above am ash-
colored, below white. The legs and toes am
livid; the latter divided almost to their very
origin, having only a very small web between the
middle and interior toes ; as those of the two
species of snipes found in England.
SCOLOPENDRA, in zoology, a genus of in-
sects belonging to the order of aptera. The feet
are very numerous, being as many on each side as
there are joints in the body ; the antennae are se-
taceous : there are two jointed pappi, and the
body is depressed. — These insects are very for-
midable and noxious in the warm countries,
where they grow to the length of a quarter of a
yard or more, though in this climate they seldom
grow above an inch long. The scolopendra is
also called the centipes from its number of feet.
In the East Indies it grows to six inches in
length, and as thick as a man's finger : it con-
sists of many joints ; and from each joint pro-
ceeds a leg on each side : they are covered with
hair, and seem to have no eyes ; but there are
two feelers on the head, with which they find
out the way they are to pass : the head is very
round, with two small sharp teeth, with which
they inflict wounds that are very painful and
dangerous. Some of the species live in holes in
the earth ; others under stones, and among rotten
wood ; so that the removing of these is exceed-
ingly dangerous in the countries where the scolo-
pendrae breed. The scolopendra forficata is the
largest in this country, of a dun color, smooth,
and composed of nine scaly segments, without
reckoning the head. The feet are fifteen in num-
ber on each side, and the last longer than the
rest, and turned backwards, form a kind of forky
tail. The antennae are twice the length of the
head, and consist of forty-two short segments.
The insect's progressive motion is very quick, and
sometimes serpentine. It is found under stones
on the ground, under flower-pots and garden
boxes.
SCOLYMUS, in botany, golden thistle; a
genus of the polygamia aequalis order, and syn-
genesia class of plants ; natural order forty-ninth,
compositae : receptacle paleaceous : CAL. imbri-
cated and prickly, without any pappus. Species
three, natives of Barbary and the United States
of Europe. ^
SCOMBER, the mackerel, in ichthyology, a
genus belonging to the order of thoracici. The
head is smooth and compressed, and there are
seven rays in the gill membrane. There are
twenty-two species ; the most remarkable are the
following : —
1. S. communis, the common mackerel, a
summer fish of passage that visits our shores in
vast shoals. It is less useful than other species
of gregarious fish, being very tender, and unfit
for carriage ; but it may be preserved by pickling
and salting. See FISHERY. It was greatly es-
teemed by the Romans, because it furnished the
garum, a sort of pickle that gave a high relish to
their sauces ; and was also used medicinally.
This fish is easily taken by a bait ; but the best
time is during a fresh gale of wind, which is
thence called a mackerel gale. In the spring
the eyes of mackerel are almost covered with a
white film ; during which period they are half
blind. This film grows in winter, and is cast
the beginning of summer. It is not often that a
mackerel exceeds two pounds in weight, yet
there have been instances of some that weighed
upwards of five. The nose is taper and sharp
pointed ; the eyes large ; the jaws of an equal
length ; the teeth small, but numerous. The
form of this fish is very elegant. The body is a
little compressed on the sides : towards the tail
it grows very slender, and a little angular. It is
a most beautiful fish when alive ; nothing can
equal the brilliancy of its color, which death im-
pairs, but does not wholly obliterate.
2. S. thunnus, the tunny. These fish are
caught in nets, and amazing quantities are taken ;
for they come in vast shoals, keeping along the
shores. They frequent our coasts, but not in
shoals, like the tunnies of the Mediterranean.
They are not uncommon in the lochs on the
west coast of Scotland ; where they come in
pursuit of herrings ; and often during night
strike into the nets, and do considerable damage.
When the fishermen draw them up in the morn-
ing, the tunny rises at the same time towards the
surface, ready to catch the fish that drop out.
On perceiving it, a strong hook, baited with a
herring and fastened to a rope, is instantly flung
out, which the tunny seldom fails to take. As
soon as hooked it loses all spirit ; and after a
very little resistance submits to its fate. It is
dratted to the shore and cut up, either to be
sold fresh to people who carry it to the country
markets, or preserved salted in large casks. The
pieces, when fresh, look exactly like raw beef;
but when boiled turn pale, and have something
of the flavor of salmon. One mentioned by Mr.
Pennant weighed 460lbs. The fish was seven
feet ten inches long : the greatest circumference
five feet seven ; the least near the tail one foot
six. The body was round and thick, and grew
suddenly very slender towards the tail, and near
that part was angular. The irides were of a
plain green; the teeth very minute. The tail
was in form of a crescent; and two feet seven
inches between tip and tip. The skin on the
back was smooth, very thick, and black. On
the belly the scales were visible. The color of
the sides and belly was silvery, tinged with caeru-
lean and pale purple : near the tail marbled with
gray. On the coast of Scotland they are called
mackrelsture ; mackrel, from being of that genus ;
and sture, from the Danish stor, great.
SCOMM, n. s. From Lat. scomma. A buf-
foon. A word well out of use.
The scomms, or buffoons of quality are wolvish in
conversation. L'Estrange.
SCONCE, n.s. Teut. schantz; Goth: skyu,
to cover. A fort; bulwark; wall protection; a
•candlestick for a wall.
Such fellows are perfect in the great commanders'
names, and they will learn you by rote where ser-
vices were done ; at such and such a sconce, at such
a breach. Shakspeare. Henry V.
\Vhy does he suffer this rude knave now to knock
him about the sconce with a dirty shovel, and will
not tell him of this action of battery 1 Id. Hamlet.
Golden tcwices hang upon the walls,
To light the costly suppers and the balls.
Drwlen's Luc.
VOL. XIX,— PART 2.
SCO
Triumphant Umbriel, on a sconce's height.
Clapped his glad wings, and sat to view the fight.
Pope.
Put candles into sconces.
Swift's Directions to the Butler.
SCONE, or SCOON, an ancient town of Scot-
land, in Perthshire, remarkable for being the
place where the kings were anciently crowned.
Here was once an abbey of great antiquity, which
was burnt by the reformers at Dundee. Kenneth
II. upon his conquest of the Picts in the ninth
century, having made Scone his principal resi-
dence, delivered his laws, called the Macalpine
laws, from a tumulus named the Mote Hill of
Scone. The old palace was begun by the earl of
Gowrie ; but was completed by Sir David Mur-
ray of Gospatric, the favorite of king James VI.,
to \vhom that monarch had granted it ; and the
new possessor, in gratitude to his benefactor, put
up the king's arms in several parts of the house.
It is built around two courts. The dining room
is large and handsome ; and has an ancient and
magnificent chimney piece, and the king's arms,
with this motto : —
Nobis hsec invicta miserunt centum sex proavi.
Beneath are the Murray arms. In a small bed-
chamber is a medly scripture piece in needle-
work, with a border of animals, pretty well done,
the work of queen Mary during her confinement
in LochLeven Castle. The gallery is about 155
feet long, the top arched, divided into compart-
ments filled with paintings in water colors. Till
the destruction of the abbey, the kings of Scot-
land were crowned here, sitting in the famous
marble chair which Edward I. transported to
Westminster Abbey, to the great mortification of
the Scots, who looked upon it as a kind of palla-
dium. Charles II., before the battle of Wor-
cester, was crowned in the chapel. The old
pretender resided for some time at Scone in 1715;
and his son paid it a visit in 1745. Such was the
palace of Scone, till about the year 1803, that
part of it was taken down and rebuilt in a more
modern style by the earl of Mansfield. The
modern house, including a very small portion of
the ancient palace, forms one of the most magni-
ficent houses in Scotland. The church erected
in 1784 was taken down, and anew one built in
1804 upon the same plan, decorated with an an-
cient family seat of the Stormont family, the
ancestors of the earl of Mansfield, of very curious
workmanship. Scone consists of two streets,
one of them very wide, and lies forty-one miles
north of Edinburgh, and two from Perth.
SCOOP, n. s. & v. a. Fr. escape ; Swedish
scop ; Belg. schoepe. A kind of large ladle ; a
vessel with a long handle used to throw out
liquor; a surgical instrument: to use a scoop;
to make hollow or like a scoop.
As by the brook he stood,
He scooped the water from the crystal flood.
Id.
They turn upside down, hops on malt-kilns, when
almost dry, with a scoop. Mortimer' t Husbandry.
It much conduces how to scare
The little race of birds, that hop
From spray to spray, scooping the costliest fruit,
Insatiate, undisturbed. Philipt.
2 C
SCO
386
SCO
A spectator would think this circular mound had
been actually scooped out of that hollow space.
Spectator.
Her fore-feet are broad, that Sue may scuot> away
much earth at a time. Addisou.
Those carbuncles the Indians will sct>.y, so as *o
hold above a pint Arhutknot on Ccins.
Endeavour with thy scoop, or fingers, to force the
stone outwards. Sharp's Surgery.
The genius of ths place
Or helps the ambitious hill the heaven to scale,
Or scoops in circling the theatre's vale. Pope.
Melted Alpine snows
The mountain cisterns fill, those ample stores
Of water tcooped among the hollow rocks.
Thornton.
SCOPARIA, in botany, a genus of the mono-
gynia order, and tetrandria class of plants, na-
tural order fortieth, personatne : CAL. quadripar-
tite : COR. the same, and rotaceous : CAPS, uni-
locular, bivalved, and polyspermous.
SCOPAS, a celebrated Grecian architect and
sculptor, a native of Ephesus, according to Lem-
priere. He flourished about A. A. C. 430. He
built the famous Maasoleum for Q. Artemisia,
which was esteemed one of the seven wonders of
the world. See ARTEMISIA. But his chief work
was a statue of Venus, which he carried to
Rome, where it was esteemed superior even to
that of Praxiteles.
SCOPE, n. s. Lat. scopus. Aim ; intention ;
drift: room; space; liberty.
The scope of all their pleading against man's au-
thority is to overthrow such laws and constitutions
in the church, as depending thereupon, if they should
therefore be taken away, would leave neither face
nor memory of church to continue long in the world.
Hooker.
Now was time
To aim their counsels to ths fairest scope.
Hubbard's Tale.
Your scope is as mine own,
So to enforce or qualify the laws,
As to your soul seems good.
Shakspeare. Measure for Measure.
His coming hither hath no further scope
Than for his lineal royalties, and to beg
Infranchisement immediate on his kneee.
Id. Richard II.
Ah, cut ray lace asunder,
That my pent heart may have some scope to beat,
Or else I swoon with this dread killing news.
Sltaktpeare.
Sith 'twas my fault to give the people scope,
Twould be my tyranny to strike and gall them
For what I bid them do. Id.
As surfeit is the father of much fast,
So every scope, by the immoderate use,
Turns to restraint. Id.
We should impute the war to the scape at which
it airaeth. Raleigh.
The scopes of land granted to the first adventurers
were too large, and the liberties and royalties were
too great for subjects. Davies on Ireland.
He, in what he counsels, and in what excels,
Mistrustful, grounds his courage on despair
A nd utter dissolution, as the scope
Of all his aim. Milton's Paradise Lost.
An heroick poet is not tied to a bare representa-
tion of what is true, but that he might let himself
loose to visionary objects, which may give him a
freer scope for imagination. Dryden.
Had t'ae whole s:upe of the author been answer-
able to his title, he would have only undertaken
to prove what every man is convinced of; but the
drift of the pamphlet is to stir up our compassion
towards the rebels. Addison.
These theorems being admitted into opticks, there
would be scope enough of handling that science vo-
luminously, after a new manner ; not only by teach-
ing those things which tend to the perfection of vi-
sion, but also by determining mathematically all
kinds of phenomena of colours which could be" pro-
duced by refraction. Newton's Optu-ki.
SCOPOL1A, in botany, a genus of the oc-
tandria order, and gynandria class of plants ;
natural order eleventh, sannentacese : TAL. di-
phyllous : COR. quadrifid : the antherae coalesce
in two columns, one placed above the other. Ot'
this there is only one species, viz. S. composita.
SCORBUTICAL, adj. } Fr. scarbutiyue ;
SCORBTJ'TIC, £ Lat. scorbutuf. Dis-
SCOUBU'TICALLY, adv. j eased with scurvy :
the adverb corresponding.
Violent purging hurts scorbutic constitutions ;
lenitive substances relieve. Arbutluwt.
A person about forty, of a full and xcorbutical
body, having broke her skin, endeavoured the curing
of it ; but, observing the ulcer sanious, I proposed
digestion. II i.<r»mn.
A woman of forty, Korbutictillti and hydropically
affected, having a sordid ulcer, put herself into my
hand. Id.
SCORCE, n. s. Used by Spenser for dis-
course, or power of reason : in imitation perhaps
of the Italians.
Lively vigour rested in his mind,
And recompensed him with a better scarce ;
Weak body well is changed for mind's redoubled
force. Faerie Qurene.
SCORCH, v. a. & v. n. Saxon j-concne'o ;
Belg. schrocken, burnt. To burn superficially :
be dried up or thus burnt.
Power was given to scorch men with fire.
Revelations xvi. 8.
Fire scorcheth in frosty weather.
Bacon's Natural History.
The same that left thee by the cooling stream,
Safe from sun's heat, but scorched with beauty's beam.
Fairfax.
The swarthy Africans complain
To sec the chariot of the sun
So nigh their scorching country run. Roscommon.
You look with such contempt en pain,
That languishing you conquer more ;
So lightnings which in storms appear
Scorch more than when the skies are clear. Waller.
I rave,
And, like a giddy bird in dead of night,
Fly round the fire that scorches me to death.
Dryden.
The love was made in Autumn, and the hunting
followed properly when the heats of that scorching
country were declining. Id.
Scatter a little mungy straw or fern amongst your
seedlings, to prevent the roots from scorching, and
to receive the moisture that falls.
Mortimer's Husbandry.
The same beams that shine, scorch too. South.
He, from whom the nations should receive
Justice and freedom, lives himself a slave ;
Tortured by cruel change of wild desires,
Lashed by mad rage, and scorched bv brutal fires.
Prior.
SCO
387
SCORDISCJE, or SCORDISCI, an ancient
people of Pannonia and Thrace, infamous for
their barbarity during the reiens of the Roman
emperors. They not only sacrificed their pri-
soners to their gods, but drank their blood. — Liv.
Flor. Strabo.
SCORDTUM, or water germander, in botany,
is a species of teucriura.
SCORE, n. s. & v. a. Tsl. skora ; Goth, skor,
a mark or notch. A notch, or long incision ; a
line drawn; account kept; reason; sake: to
murk or set down in account.
Hast thou appointed where the sun should rise,
And with her purple light adorn the skies 1
Scored out the bounded sun's obliquer ways,
That he on all might spread his equal rays ?
Our forefathers had no other books but the score
and the tally : thou hast caused printing to be used.
Shakspeare. Henry VI.
He's worth no more :
They say he parted well, and paid his score.
Id. Macbeth.
That thou dost love her, strikes some scores away
From the great compt.
Id. All's Well That Ends Well.
He had been prentice to a brewer,
But left the trade ; as many more
Have lately done on the same score. Htuifbras.
Universal deluges have swepfall away except two
or three persons who begun the world again upon a
new score. Tillotton.
Your follies and debauches change
With such a whirl, the poets of your age
Are tired, and cannot score 'em on the stage ;
Unless each vice in short-hand they indite,
Kven as notcht prentices whole sermons write.
Dryd-'ii .
You act your kindness on Cydaria's score. Id.
A lion that had got a politick fit of sickness,
wrote the fox word how glad he should be of his
company, upon the score of ancient friendship.
L'Ettrange.
Does not the air feed the flame? And does not
the flame warm and enlighten the air 1 Does not the
earth quit scores with all the elements, in the fruits
that issue from it? South.
If your terms are moderate, we'll never break off
upon that tcore. Collier on Pride.
Kings in Greece were disposed by their people
upon the score of their arbitrary proceedings.
Stcift.
Madam, I know when
Instead of five you scored me ten. Id.
SCORE, n. s. Sax. j-con. Twenty ; because
twenty, being a round number, was distinguished
on tallies by a long score.
How many score of miles may we well ride
'Twixt hour and hour ? Shat\*peare. Cymbeline.
The fewer still you name, you wound the more ;
Bond is hut one, but Harpax is a score. Pope.
For some scores of lines there is a perfect absence
of that spiiit of poesy. Watts.
O bid him never tie them mair
Wi' wicked strings o' hemp or hair !
But ca' them out to park or hill,
An' let them wander at their will ;
So may his flock increase, an' grow
To scores o' lambs, an' packs o' woo' ! Burns.
SCO'RIA, n. s. Lat. scoria. Dross ; recre-
ment.
By the fire they emit many drossy and scorious
parts. Browne.
The scoria, or vitrified part, whu-h most metals,
when heated or melted, do continually protrude to
the surface, and which, by covering the metals in
form of a thin glassy skin, causes these colours, is
much denser tfian water. Newton's Opticks.
SCORIA, among metallurgists, is the dross of
metals in fusion ; or the glass often produced
by melting; metals and ores: when cold it is
brittle, and not dissoluble in water.
SCORIFICATION, the art of reducing a
body either entirely, or in part, into scoriae. It
is used by metallurgists, in order that any metal,
imprisoned in a solid body, may, on account of
its weight, descend and separate itself from it,
and finally, if that be required by itself either
wholly or in part, converted into scoriae. It is
often proper to make this scorification in a vessel
that may absorb the scoriae, and retain only the
metallic part of the mass. See CUPEL and
ASSAYING.
SCORN, v. a., v. n., &-\ French escorne.r ;
SCORN'ER, n.s. [n.s. 9 Span, escannir ; Ital.
SCORN'H:L, adj. fscornare. To des-
SCORN'FULLY, adv. J pise ; slight ; revile ;
to scoff; disdain; neglect : the noun substantive,
adjective, and adverb, corresponding.
My friends tcorn me ; but mine eye poureth out
tears unto God. Jt>b xvi. 20.
Our soul is filled with the scorning of those that
are at ease, and with the contempt of the proud.
Pstilm cxxiii. 4.
Surely he scorneth the scorner, but he giveth grace
unto the lowly. Proverbs.
He that sitteth in the heavens shall laugh them to
scorn ; the Lord shall have them in derision.
Psalms. Common Prayer.
If he do fully prove himself the honest shepherd
Menalcas his brother and heir, I know no reason
why you should think scorn of him. Sidney.
They are very active ; vigilant in their enterprises,
present in perils, and great (corners of death.
Spenser on Ireland.
He said mine eyes were black, and my hair black ;
And, now I am remembered, scorned at me.
Shakfpeare.
We were better parch in Afric's sun
Than in the pride and salt scorn of his eyes. Id.
He used us scornfully; he should have showed us
His marks of merit, wounds received for's country.
Id.
Diogenes was asked in scorn, What was the
matter that philosophers haunted rich men, and not
rich men philosophers 1 He answered, because the one
knew what they wanted, the others did not. Bacon.
I've seen the morning's lovely ray
Hover o'er the new-born day
With rosy wings so richly bright,
As if he scorned to think of night. Crashaio.
This my long sufferance, and my day of grace,
They who neglect and scorn shall never taste ;
But hard be hardened, blind be blinded, more.
Milton.
Is it not a most horrid ingratitude thus to make a
scorn of him that made us ? Tillntson.
Every sullen frown and bitter scorn
But fanned the fuel that loo fast did burn.
Dry den.
The enamoured deity
The scornful damsels shuns. Id.
The tcorner should consider, upon the sight of a
cripple, that it was only the distinguishing mercy of
heaven that kept him from being one too.
L'Ettrange.
2 C 2
388
SCORPIO.
For Xumidia's grown a sc.n-n amoriij the nations,
A breach of publick vows. Additon's Cato.
They, in the tcomer's or the judge's seat,
Dare to condemn the virtue which they hate. Prior.
With him I o'er the hills had run,
Scornful of winter's frost and summer's sun. Id.
The sacred rights of the Christian church are
scornfully trampled on in print, under an hypocritical
pretence of maintaining them. Atterbury's Hermans.
Fame, that delights around the world to stray,
Scorns not to take our Argos in the way. Pope.
SCORP/ENA, in ichthyology, a genus of
fishes, of the order thoracici The head is large
and sharp ; the eyes are near each other ; there
are teeth in the jaws, palate, and fauces ; and
there are seven rays in the membrane of the gill.
The species are three ; viz.
1. S. horrida, 2. S. porcus, and 3. S. scrofa.
The largest of these is the S. scrofa, of which
the following are the distinguishing characters : —
Lower lip having two cirri ; head large ; eyes
enormous, pupil black, iris yellow or reddish,
with four brown rays, above which are three
cirri ; mouth large ; cheeks and lower jaw cir-
rous ; jaws equal ; the tongue and palate armed
with sharp, recurved teeth ; aperture of the gills
large, the cover with two large and many smaller
spines ; back brown ; fins bluish, the rays va-
ried, yellow, and brown, and mostly forked.
This fish inhabits the Atlantic, Mediterranean,
and Northern Seas ; it grows from three to four
yards long, and is a most voracious fish, preying
not only on other fishes, but also on sea-birds ;
body whitish-tawny, spotted with brown, and
covered with large scales ; the flesh is eaten in
Italy. This fish is called by the people of Corn-
wall father-lasher.
SCORP^NA is also the name of another fish
caught in many parts of the Mediterranean. It
seldom grows to more than a pound weight. Its
body is long, but not flatted, and is moderately
thick. Its head is extremely large, and is armed
with prickles, and it grows gradually less from
thence to the tail. The prickles about the head
are accounted venomous, and the fishermen
usually cut them off as soon as the fish is caught.
Its tail is rounded at the end. The belly and
belly-tins are reddish.
SCORPIO, in entomology, a genus of insects
belonging to the order of aptera. It has eight
feet, besides two frontal claws ; the eyes are
eight in number, three on each side of the thorax,
and two on the back. It has two claw-shaped
palpi, a long jointed tail, with a pointed weapon
at the extremity ; it has likewise two combs
situated between the breast and abdomen. See
ENTOMOLOGY. There are several species, all
natives of warm climates. Of all the classes of
noxious insects, the scorpion is the most terrible,
whose size among the insects is enormous, and
its sting often fatal. In several parts of the
continent of Europe it is but too well known,
though it seldow grows above four inches long ;
but in the warm tropical climates it is seen a
foot in length, and in every respect as large as a
lobster, which it somewhat resembles in shape.
The scorpion's head seems, as it were, jointed to
tlie breast, in the middle of which are seen two
eyes: and a little more forward two eyes more,
placed in the fore part of the bead ; these eyes
are so small that they are scarcely perceivable :
and it is probable the animal has but little oc-
casion for seeing. The mouth is furnished with
two jaws ; the undermost is divided into two,
and the parts notched into each other, with which
it breaks its food, and thrusts it into its mouth;
these the scorpion can at pleasure pull back into
its mouth, so that no part of them can be seen.
On each side of the head are two arms, each
composed of four joints; the last of which is
large, -,vith strong muscles, and formed in the
manner of a lobster's claw. Below the breast
are eight legs, each divided into six joints ; the
two hindmost of which are each provided with
two crooked claws, and here and there covered
with hair. The belly is divided into seven little
rings ; from the lowest of which is continued a
tail composed of six joints, which are bristly,
and formed like little globes, the last being armed
with a crooked sting. This is that fatal instru-
ment which renders this insect so formidable ; it
is long, pointed, hard, and hollow ; it is pierced
near the base by two small holes, through which,
when the animal stings, it ejects a drop of poi-
son, which is white and caustic. The reservoir
in which this poison is formpcl and kept is a
small bladder near the tail. If this bladder be
greatly pressed the venoi.. will be seen issuing
out through the two holes above mentioned ; so
that it appears, that when the animal stings, the
bladder is pressed, and the venom issues through
the two apertures into the wound. Galen ob-
serves that a person who had not witnessed the
fact would not suppose that so small an injury
as the sting of a scorpion, or the bite of a poi-'
sonous spider, could produce the violent effects
which they do in the whole body. He says
the aculeus or sting of a scorpion ends in the
minutest point ; and has no perforation through
which any poison can pass into the wound.
Yet, he says, we must suppose the venom to
be some spiritual substance or moisture, in
which a great power is concentrated in a small
compass. ' Before I had an opportunity,' says
Dr. Moseley, 'of examining this subject, my
respect for the opinion of Galen made me doubt
the accuracy of Leuwenhoek, Redi, Mead, and
others, who assert that there is an aperture near
the cuspis of a scorpion's sting ; and that through
this aperture a liquid poison is injected when a
wound is inflicted. Repeated experiments, with
the best glasses, have never enabled me to dis-
cover any foramen or opening whatever.' There
are few animals more formidable, or more truly
mischievous, than the scorpion. As it takes re-
fuge in a small place, and is generally found
sheltering in houses, it must frequently stin>,'
those among whom it resides. In some of the
towns of Italy, and in France, in the ci-devant
province of Languedoc, it is a terrible enemy ;
but its malignity in Europe is trifling, when
compared to what the natives of Africa and th-
east are known to experience. In Batavia,
where they grow twelve inches long, there is no
removing any piece of furniture without the
utmost danger of being stung by them. Bostnan
assures us that along the Gold Coast they are
often found larger than a lobster ; and thjit thuit
SCORPIO.
389
sting is inevitably fatal. In Europe, however,
they are by no means so large, so venomous, or
so numerous. The general size of this animal
does not exceed two or three inches. Mauper-
tuis, who made several experiments on the scor-
pion of Languedoc, found it by no means so
invariably dangerous as had till then been repre-
sented. He provoked one of them to sting a
dog in three places of the belly, where the ani-
mal was without hair. In about an hour after
the poor animal appeared greatly swollen, and
became very sick ; he then cast up whatever he
had in his bowels, and for about three hours con-
tinued vomiting a whitish liquid. The belly
was always greatly swollen when the animal be-
gan to vomit ; but this operation always seemed
to abate the swelling, which alternately swelled,
and was thus emptied for three hours successively.
The poor animal after this fell into convulsions,
bit the ground, dragged himself along upon his
fore feet, and at last died, five hours after being
bitten. He was not partially swollen round the
place which was bitten, as is usual after the
sting of a wasp or a bee ; but his whole body
was inflated, and there only appeared a red spot
on the places where he had been stung. Some
days after, however, the same experiment was
tried upon another dog, and even with more
aggravated cruelty, yet the dog seemed in no
way affected by the wounds ; but, howling a lit-
tle when he received them, continued alert and
well after them ; and soon after was set at liberty
without* showing the smallest symptoms of pain.
So far was this poor creature from being terrified
•at the experiment, that he left his own master's
house to come to that of the philosopher, where
he had received more plentiful entertainment.
The same experiment was tried by fresh scorpions
upon seven other dogs, and upon three hens ;
but no deadly symptom ensued. Hence it
appears, that many cirsumstances, which are
utterly unknown, must contribute to give efficacy
to the scorpion's venom. In the trials made by
Maupertuis he employed scorpions of both sexes,
newly caught and seemingly vigorous and active.
These experiments may serve to show that many
of the boasted antidotes which are given for the
cure of the scorpion's sting, owe their success
rather to accident than their own efficacy. They
only happened to cure when their sting was no
way dangerous ; but in cases of actual malignity
they might probably be utterly unserviceable.
The scorpion of the tropical climates, being much
larger than the former, is probably much more
venomous. Helbigius, however, who resided
for many years in the east, assures us that he
was often stung by the scorpion, and never re-
ceived any material injury from the wound ; a
painful tumor generally ensued, but he always
cured it by rubbing the part with a piece of iron
or stone, as he had seen the Indians practise be-
fore him, until the flesh became insensible.
Seba, Moore, and Bosman, however, give a very
different account of the scorpion's malignity ;
and assert that, unless speedily relieved, the
wound becomes fatal. No animal in the creation
seems endued with such an irascible nature;
they have often been seen, when taken and put
inio a place of security, to exert all their rage
against the sides of the glass vessel that contained
them. They will attempt to sting a stick when
put near them, and attack a mouse or a frog,
while those animals are far from offering any in-
jury. Maupertuis put three scorpions and a
mouse into the same vessel together, and they
soon stung the little animal in different places.
The mouse, thus assaulted, stood for some time
upon the defensive, and at last killed them all,
one after another. He tried this experiment, in
order to see whether the mouse, after it had
killed, would eat the scorpions ; but the little
quadruped seemed satisfied with the victory, and
even survived the severity of the wounds it had
received. Wolkemar tried the courage of the
scorpion against the tarantula, and enclosed
several of both kinds in glass vessels for that
purpose. The spider at first used all its efforts
to entangle the scorpion in its web, which it im-
mediately began spinning ; but the scorpion
rescued itself from the danger, by stinging its
adversary to death ; it soon after cut off, with its
claws, all the legs of the spider, and then sucked
all the internal parts at its leisure. The fierce
spirit of this animal is equally dangerous to its
own species, for scorpions are the cruellest ene-
mies to each other. Maupertuis put about 100
of them together in the same glass ; and they
scarcely came into contact before they began to
exert all their rage in mutual destruction ; there
was nothing to be seen but one universal car-
nage, without any distinction of age or sex ; so
that in a few days there remained only fourteen,
which had killed and devoured all the rest.
He next enclosed a female scorpion, big with
young, in a glass vessel, and she was seen to
devour them as fast as they were excluded ; there
was but one only of the number that escaped the
general destruction, by taking refuge on the back
of its parent ; and this soon after revenged the
cause of its brethren, by killing the old one in
its turn. Such is the terrible and unrelenting
nature of this insect. It is even asserted that,
when driven to an extremity, the scorpion will
destroy itself. The following experiment was
ineffectually tried by Maupertuis : — ' But,' says
Mr. Goldsmith, ' I am so well assured of it by
many eye-witnesses, who have seen it both in
Italy and America, that I have no doubt remain
ing of its veracity. A scorpion newly caught is
placed in the midst of a circle of burning char-
coal, and thus an egress prevented on every side ;
the scorpion, as I am assured, runs for about a
minute round the circle, in hopes of escaping; but,
finding that impossible, it stings itself on th«
back of the head, and in this manner the un-
daunted suicide instantly expires/ This, how-
ever, wants further confirmation. The male and
female of this insect are very easily distinguish-
able ; the male being smaller and less hairy. The
female brings forth her young alive, and perfect
in their kind. Redi, having bought a quantity
of scorpions, selected their females, which by
their size and roughness, were easily distinguish-
able from the rest, and putting them in separate
glass vessels, he kept them for some days without
food. In about five days one of them brought
forth about thirty-eight young ones, well shaped,
and of a milk white color, which changed every
SCO
390
SCO
day more and more into a dark rusty hue. Ano-
ther female, in a different vessel, brought forth
twenty-seven of the same color, and the day
following the young ones seemed all fixed to the
back and belly of the female. For near a fort-
night all these continued alive and well, but
afterwards some of them died daily, until, in
about a month, they all died except two. Were
it worth the trouble, these animals might be kept
living as long as curiosity should think proper.
Their chief food is worms and insects ; and upon
a proper supply of these their lives might be
lengthened to their natural extent. How long
that may be we are not told ; but if we may argue
from analogy, it cannot be less than seven or
eight years ; and perhaps, in the larger kind
double that duration. As they have somewhat
the form of the lobster, so they resemble that
animal in casting their shell, or more properly
their skin; since it is softer by far than the co-
vering of the lobster, and set with hairs, which
grow from it in great abundance, particularly at
the joinings. The young lie in the womb of the
parent, each covered up in its own membrane,
to the number of forty or fifty, and united to
each other by an oblong thread, so as to exhibit
altogether the form of a chaplet. It seems pro-
bable that captivity produces that unnatural dis-
position in the scorpion which induces it to
destroy its young ; since, at liberty, it is found
to protect them with unceasing assiduity.
SCORPIO, the scorpion, in astronomy, the
eighth sign of the zodiac, denoted by the charac-
ter m. See ASTRONOMY.
SCOR'PION, n. s. French scorpion ; Latin
scorpio. A reptile resembling a small lobster,
with a very venomous sting.
I\Iy father hath chastised you with whips, but I
will chastise you with scorpions. 1 Kings xii. 11.
Well, forewarning winds
Did seem to say, seek not a scorpion's nest.
Shakspeare. Henry VI.
Full of icorpimu is my mind, dear wife. Id. Macbeth.
The squeezing crab and stinging scorpion shine.
Dryden.
SCORPION. See SCORPIO.
SCORPION GRASS is a species of scorpiurus.
SCORPIURUS, the caterpillar, in botany, a
genus of the decandria order, and diadelphia
class of plants, natural order thirty-second, pa-
pilionaceae ; legume contracted by incisions on
the inside betwixt every two seeds revoluted
round. There are four species, the most remark-
able of which is —
S. vermiculata, a native of Italy and Spain.
It is an annual plant, with trailing herbaceous
stalks, which at each joint have a spatular-shaped
leaf with a long foot-stalk. From the wings of
the leaves come out the foot-stalks of the flowers,
which sustain at the top one yellow butterfly
flower, succeeded by a thick twisted pod, hav-
ing the size and appearance of a larger cater-
pillar, from whence it had this title. This has
long been preserved in the gardens of this coun-
try, more on account of its odd shape than for
any great beauty. It is propagated by sowing
the seeds on a bed of light earth ; and, when the
plants come up, they must be kept free from
weeds and thinned, so that there nrny be a foot
distance between thorn.
SCORZA (Senibald), an eminent Italian pain-
ter and engraver, born at Vollagio, in 1590. He
engraved after the designs of the celebrated Albert
Durer, with great accuracy. As a painter he
excelled in representing animals and flowers.
He died in 1631, aged forty-one.
SCORZONERA, viper-grass, in botany, a
genus of the polygamia ajqualis order, and syn-
genesia class of plants : natural order forty-
ninth, composite ; receptacle naked ; pappus
like a plum : CAL. imbricated, with scales mem-
branaceous on their margins. The most remark-
able species is the —
S. Hispanica, the Spanish, or common viper-
grass. It is cultivated in the gardens of this
country, both for culinary and medicinal pur-
poses. The root is carrot-shaped, about the
thickness of a finger, covered with a dark brown
skin, is white within, and has a milky juice. The
stalk rises three feet high, is smooth, branching
at the top, and garnished with a few narrow
leaves, whose base half embraces the stalk. The
flowers are of a bright yellow color, and termi-
nate the stalks in scaly empalements composed
of many narrow tongued-shaped hermaphrodite
florets, lying over each other like the scales of
fish, and are of a bright yellow color. After
these are decayed, the germen, which sits in the
common empalements, turns to oblong cor-
nered seeds, having a roundish ball of feathered
down at the top. This plant is propagated by
seeds ; and must be carefully thinned and kept
free from weeds, otherwise the plants will be
weak. The roots of the scorzonera were for-
merly much celebrated for their alexipharmic ,
virtues, and for throwing out the small-pox ;
but have now almost entirely lost their charac-
ter; however, as they abound with an acrid
juice, they may sometimes be of use for strength-
ening the viscera, and promoting the fluid secre-
tions.
SCOT (Michael), of Balwirie, a learned Scot-
tish author of the thirteenth century. He made
the tour of France and Germany ; and was re-
ceived with distinction at the court of the empe-
ror Frederic II. He was skilled in languages ;
and translated into Latin, from the Arabic, the
history of animals, by the celebrated physician
Avicenna. He published the whole of the
works of Aristotle with notes. He wrote a work
on The Secrets of Nature ; also a tract On the
Nature of the Sun and Moon. He there speaks
of the grand operation of the alchymists, and is
exceedingly solicitous about the projected pow-
der, or the philosopher's stone. He likewise
published Mensa Philosophica, a treatise on
astrology and chiromancy. He was much ad-
mired in his day, and was even suspected of
magic; and had Roger Bacon and Cornelius
Agrippa for his panegyrists.
SCOT (Reginald), a writer in the sixteenth
century. He studied at Hart Hall, in tlio Irii-
versity of Oxford ; after which he retired to
Smeethe, where he lived a studious life, and died
in 1599. He published The perfect Platform of
a Hop-gurden, and The Discovery of Witch-
craft; in which he showed that the relations
concerning magicians and witches are chimerical.
This work was not only censured by kiir^.hmirs
I. in his Dsrmonologv, but by several eminent
SCO
391
SCO
divines; and all the copies of it that could be
found were burnt.
SCOT, n. s. Fr. scot. Shot; payment;
scot and lot, parish payments.
'Twos time to counterfeit, or that hot termagant
Scot had paid me scot and lot too.
Sluikspeare. Henry IV.
The chief point that has puzzled the freeholders,
as well as those that pay scut and lot, for about these
six months, is, Whether they would rather be go-
verned by a prince that is obliged by law to be
good, or by one who, if he pleases, may plunder or
imprison! Addison.
Protogenes, historians note,
Lived there a burgess, scot and lot. Prior.
SCOT AND LOT is a customary contribution
laid upon all subjects according to their abilities.
Whoever were assessed in any sum, though not
in equal proportions, were said to pay scot and
lot.
SCOTAL, or SCOTALE, is where an officer of
a forest keeps an ale-house within the forest, by
color of his office, making people come to his
house, and there spend their money for fear of
his displeasure. We find it mentioned in the
charter of the forest, cap. 8. ' Nullus forresta-
rius facial Scotallas, vel garbas colligat, vel ali-
quam collectam faciat,' &c. The word is com-
pounded of scot and ale, and by transposition
of the words is otherwise called aleshot.
SCOTCH, v. a. Qu. Lat. quota). To cut
with shallow incision.
He was too hard for him ; directly before Corioli,
he scoicht and notcht him like a carbonado.
Shahspeare. Coriolanvs.
We'll heat 'em into Bench holes ; I have yet
room for six scotches more.
Id. Antony and Cleopatra.
Give him four scotches with a knife, and then put
into his belly, and these scotches, sweet herbs.
Walton's Angler.
Children being indifferent to any thing they can
do, dancing and scotch hoppers would be the same
thing to them. Locke.
SCOT I (Latin), the Scots, the ancient inha-
bitants of Scotland, mentioned as distinct from
the Picts, so early as by Claudian de Hon. 3.
Cons. v.
SCOTIA, NOVA, or NEW SCOTLAND, a name
that has been given to those British settlements
in North America, situated between 43° and 46°
lat. N. and between 60° and 67° long. W., bounded
by the St. Laurence on the north, by the gulf of
St. Laurence and the Atlantic Ocean on the east,
by the same ocean on the south., and by Canada
and New England on the west. In 1784 this
province was divided into two governments.
See our article NORTH AMERICA, chap. III. The
trade between Great Britain and these provinces
consists in the export of linen, woollens, and
fishing gear chiefly, for £30,000 a- year, and the
import of lumber and fish for £40,000.
The Isle of Sable, twenty-five leagues distant
from Cape Canso, the north-east point of Nova
Scotia, is composed entirely of sand-hills, in the
shape of sugar-loaves, 140 feet high, and white
as milk with white transparent stones : it is of a
semicircular shape, being ten leagues in circxiit,
hut very narrow. On the north, or concave
side, is a shallow lake, five leagues in circum-
ivKT.ce, ii'id comnr'iiio :'irv.; with the sea. It
has no port, but has some ponds of fresh water,
and produces juniper, blue-berry bushes, grass,
and vetches. Many vessels have been wrecked
on this island, and the people have perished of
hunger. In order to render it less dangerous,
the government of Halifax, in 1809, sent a party
of people to settle on it, in order to show fires
during bad nights, and to afford assistance to
those who may be shipwrecked on it.
The peninsula of Nova Scotia was first settled
by the French in 1604, who gave it the name of
Acadia. Their original establishment was at
Port Francois, on the west coast, and the first
colonists occupied themselves solely in trading
with the Indians for furs, or procuring them by
the chase themselves. The vicinity of the Bri-
tish colonies of New England, however, pro-
duced here, as well as at Canada, a destructive
concurrence in the Indian trade ; and on the
part of the Acadians, similar attempts to irritate
the Indians against the English, while the latter
retorted on the French settlements, whenever the
disputes between the two nations in Europe per-
mitted them to commence open hostilities. After
being taken by the English, and restored several
times, Acadia was finally ceded to Great Britain
by the peace of Utrecht. Very few English,
however, settled on it, and, with the exception
of change of name to Nova Scotia, no alteration
was made in the government ; the French colo-
nists being maintained in possession of their
laws and religion, and were besides permitted to
remain neuter in any wars between France and
England. In 1746 the French attempting to
regain possession of the province, and the colo-
nists breaking their neutrality, the British go-
vernment determined to colonise it efficiently,
and at the peace of Aix-la-Chapelle (1748) the
disbanded officers and soldiers were encouraged
to emigrate thither by grants of land according
to their respective ranks. These encouragements
induced 3750 persons to embark for the colony
in 1749, who founded the city of Halifax. The
French colonists, fearing a persecution from the
new government and colonists, on account of
their religion, and being also encouraged by the
Canadian government, generally retired from
Nova Scotia to that province, while the English,
equally anxious to get rid of them, removed the
remainder to the other English colonies. In
1769 the population of the colony had increased
to 26,000 persons, by emigrations from England
and Germany ; and in the same year its exports
amounted to £30,000. The American war still
farther increased the population, by the emigra-
tion of loyalists from the insurgent colonies, and
gave an extraordinary impulse to its commerce
and cultivation, by the demands of the British
fleets and armies.
SCOTISTS, a sect of school divines and phi-
losophers, thus called from their founder J. Duns
Scotus, a cordelier, who maintained the immacu-
late conception of the Virgin, orthatshewasborn
without original sin, in opposition toThomasAqui-
nus and the Thomists. TheScotistsandThomists
disagreed about the nature of the divine co-ope-
ration with the human will, the measure of divine
grace that is necessary to salvation, and other ab-
struse and minute question?, which it is needless
to enumerate.
392
SCOTLAND.
SCOTLAND, an ancient, and long an inde-
pendent kingdom of Great Britain, is situated,
exclusive of its islands, between 54° 37' and
58° 42' N. lat., and between 1° 47' and 6° 7' W.
long, from London. It contains thirty-three
counties, and is bounded south by the Solway
frith, and the rivers Esk, Lark, Liddel, and
Tweed ; on the east and north by the Northern
Ocean ; and on the west by the waters of the
Atlantic. Its greatest length due north and
south is 275 miles, and its greatest breadth 147
miles ; but its breadth is extremely various, and
in one place does not exeeed thirty-six miles.
The superficial area of the mainland is said to
amount to 25,520 square miles, 494 square miles
of fresh water lakes, and 5000 square miles
of salt-water lochs, or lakes. The islands,
comprising the Hebrides on the west, and the
Orkneys and Zetland isles towards the north,
comprehend an area of 4224 square miles.
I. HISTORY OF SCOTLAND UNTIL THE WITH-
DRAWMENT OF THE ROMANS.' — It is difficult tO
give any satisfactory account of the origin of the
appellation of Scots, from which the country
has derived its name. The conjectures of the
most eminent antiquaries serve rather to perplex
than to clear up the difficulty. All that we
know with certainty concerning this appellation
is, that it was at first a term of reproach, framed
by enemies, rather than assumed by the nation.
The Highlanders, the descendants of the ancient
Scots, are absolutely strangers to the name, and
have been always so. All those who speak the
Gaelic language call themselves Albanich or
Gael, and their country Alba or Gaeldochd ;
whence Caledonia, the most ancient name of the
country. The Picts, who possessed originally
the northern and eastern, and in a later period
also the more southern, division of North Bri-
tain, were at first more powerful than the Cale-
donians of the west. It is therefore probable
that the Picts were ready to traduce and ridicule
their weaker neighbours of Argyle. These two
nations spoke the same language, the Gaelic.
In that language Scot, or Scode, signifies a corner
or small division of a country. Accordingly,
a corner of North Britain is the very name which
Giraldus Cambrensis gives the little kingdom of
Argyle, which the six sons of Muredus king of
Ulster were said, according to his information, to
have erected in Scotland. Scot in Gaelic is
much the same with little or contemptible in
English. Others observe, that in the same lan-
guage the word Scuit signifies a wanderer, and
suppose that this may have been the origin of
the narr.e of Scot ; a conjecture which they
think is countenanced by a passage in Amianus
.Marcellinus (1. xxvii.), who characterises the
men by the epithet of per diversa vagantes, i. e.
roaming. On the whole it appears, that for
some one of the reasons couched under the above
disparaging epithets, their sneering neighbours,
the Picts or the Britons, may have given the
appellation of Scots to the ancestors of the Scot-
tish nation. At what time the inhabitants of the
west of Scotland became distinguished by this
name is uncertain. Porphyrius the philosopher
is the first who mentions them, about A. D. 267;
and towards the middle of the fourth century
we find them mentioned with other British na-
tions, by Ammianus Marcellinus, in the passage
above referred to. The territory of the ancient
Scots, before the annexation of Pictavia, com-
prehended all that side of Caledonia, which lies
on the north and western ocean, from the frith
of Clyde to the Orkneys. Towards the east their
dominions were divided from the Pictish territo-
ries by the high mountains which run from Dum-
barton to the frith of Tain. In process of time,
the Scots, under the reign of Kenneth, the son
of Alpin, became so powerful as to subdue their
neighbours the Picts, and gave their own deno-
mination to all Caledonia, Pictavia, and Valentia ;
all which are now comprehended under the ge-
neral name of Scotland.
The origin of the Scots has been warmly dis-
puted by many antiquaries of note ; particularly
by Macpherson and Whitaker. The first con-
tends that they are of Caledonian, the latter that
they are of Irish extraction. The Scots seem to
have been originally descended from Britons of
the. south, or from Caledonians, who, being
pressed forward by new colonies from Gaul, till
they came to the western shore of Britain, passed
over into Ireland, probably about 100 years be-
fore the Christian era. About A. D. 320 they
returned atjain into Britain ; or at least a larue
colony of them, under the conduct of Fergus,
and settled on the western coasts of Caledonia,
from whence they had formerly migrated. As
early as the year 340, we find them associated
with the Picts in their expeditions to the Roman
province ; and, for ninety or 100 years after, their
ravages are frequently mentioned by the Roman
and British writers. The historians of Scotland,
like those of all other nations, assume too great
an antiquity for their countrymen. By them the
reign of Fergus, the first Scottish monarch, is
placed in A. A. C. 330. He was the son of Far-
quhard, an Irish prince ; and was called into Scot-
land by the Caledonians, to assist them against
the southern Britons, with whom they were then
at war. Having landed on one of the Ebudae or
western isles, he had a conference with the Cale-
donians, whose language and manners he found
to be the same with those of his countrymen.
Having then landed in Scotland, and taken the
field at the head of his new allies, he engaged
the Britons under their king Coilus. Victory
declared in favor of the Scots ; Coilus was de-
feated and killed : and from him the province of
Kyle first received its name. After this Fergus
was declared king of the Scots, with the solem-
nity of an oath. But having been recalled to
Ireland, to quiet some commotions there, he was
drowned by a sudden tempest on his return, at a
place in Ireland called from him Carrick-Fergus,
i. e. Fergus's Rock, in the year 305 B. C.
IJ?
X V
SCOTLAND.
393
Fergus I. was succeeded by his brother Feri-
tharis, to the prejudice of his two sons, Ferlegus
and Mainus. This was in conformity with a
law, by which it was ordained that, whilst the
children of their kings were infants, one of their
relations, who was reckoned the most fit for the
government, should be raised to the throne, but
that after his death the sovereignty should return
to the sons of the former king. But Ferlegus,
impatient for the crown, demanded it from his
uncle. The dispute being referred to an assem-
bly of the states, Feritharis was confirmed on
the throne, and Ferlegus would have been con-
demned for sedition had not his uncle interposed.
However, he was imprisoned ; but, having made
his escape, he fled first to the Picts and then to
the Britons, to excite them against Feritharis.
With both he failed in accomplishing his pur-
pose ; but, his uncle being afterwards stabbed in
his bed, the suspicion fell upon Ferlegus, who
was thereupon set aside from the succession,
and died in obscurity, the throne being conferred
upon his brother Mainus. Mainus succeeded
his uncle A. A. C. 291, and is celebrated for a
peaceable and just reign of twenty-nine years ;
and a treaty with Crinus king of the Picts. He
died in 262, and was succeeded by his son Dor-
nadil, who was a great hunter, and" instituted the
laws of hunting in this country. He died in
233 B. C., and was succeeded by his brother
Nothat ; who in the twentieth year of his reign,
B.C. 213, was killed in a battle with Reuther
his nephew ; upon which the latter was immedi-
ately invested with the sovereignty. A bloody
war ensued with the Picts, in which both parties
were reduced to the last extremities, and glad to
conclude a peace, which continued many years.
Reuther died in 187 B. C., the 26th of his reign,
and was succeeded by his brother Reutha ; who
is said to have encouraged trade and manufac-
tures, and to have received an embassy of learned
men from Ptolemy king of Egypt. He died
171 B.C., and left the throne to his son Thereus,
who, proving a tyrant, was banished, and died
at York in 161. His brother Josina succeeded,
and cultivated the arts of peace ; studying me-
dicine and botany, Sec. He reigned twenty-four
years,'and died 137 B.C., when his son Finnan
succeeded. He is celebrated as a wise monarch,
and in his reign we find the first beginnings of
the Scottish parliament; as he enacted that kings
should do nothing without the consent of their
grand council.
Finnan died in his thirtieth year, 107 B. C.,
and was succeeded by his son Durstus, who,
proving a cruel tyrant, was killed in battle by
his nobles, in the ninth year of his reign. He
was succeeded by his brother Even I., who was
a wise monarch ; and successfully assisted the
Picts against the Britons. Even died in his
nineteenth year B. C. 79, when the crown was
usurped by his bastard son Gillus, who murdered
the two sons of Durstus, but was killed in battle
two years after. In 77 B.C. Even II., the
nephew of Finnan, succeeded Gillus, and built
the towns of Innerlochy and Inverness. He
overcame Belus king of the Orkneys, who had
invaded Scotland, and was succeeded by his son
Eder, in 30 B. C., in whose time Julius Ca^ar
invaded the southern parts of this island. Eder
is said to have assisted the Britons against the
common enemy. lie was succeeded, after a
reign of forty-eight years, by his son Even III.,
in the year 12 B.C., who is represented as a
monster of cruelty apd lust. Nor was he less
remarkable for his rapaciousness, which at last
occasioned a rebellion : he was dethroned, im- .
prisoned, and put to death in his seventh year,
4 B. C. Even was succeeded by Metellanus,
nephew of Ederus, a wise and good king, who
reigned prosperously thirty-nine years in peace,
and was succeeded by his sister's son, the famous
Caractacus, A. D. 35, who is celebrated by
Boece, Fordun, Monipenny, Buchanan, and
all our other ancient historians, as one of the
greatest of the Scottish monarchs. See CARAC-
TACUS. The Scottish historians insist that his
fame for wisdom, courage, and riches (accumu-
lated during the peaceable reign of his uncle),
being very great, he was invited by the Britons
to assist them in expelling the Romans, and that
upon his arrival at York, to which the Britons
had retired after a defeat, he was elected general
of the combined troops of the Britons, Scots,
and Picts; who, though equally brave and
numerous, amounting to 60,000 men, were de-
feated by the Romans in three different battles ;
in the last of whifh, Caractacus's queen, daugh-
ter, and brother, were taken prisoners by Vespa-
sian ; and soon after he himself was betrayed
to the Romans by his step-mother Cai tismandua,
and carried prisoner to Rome. Being afterwards
restored, with his relations, they add that Caracta-
cus reigned in peace till A. D. 55, when he died.
Caractacus was succeeded by his brother
Corbred I. who punished the treachery of
Cartismandua by burying her alive. Cor-
bred's sister, the famous Woada, or Voadicea,
being married to the king of the Britons, and
shamefully used by the Romans, being her-
self whipped, and her daughters violated,
Corbred raised an army of Scots and Picts,
expelled the Romans out of the north of Eng-
land, and took Berwick. About this time the
Scots were joined by a numerous tribe of the
Murrays from Moravia, under their general
Roderic, who assisted them in their wars, re-
ceiving the county of Murray in reward of their
bravery. After this Woada raised an army of
5000 females, it is said, to revenge the cause of
her sex, who, joining the combined forces, de-
feated the Romans, and killed 7000 of them.
But Suetonius coming soon after, with a fresh
body of 10,000 troops, the combined army was
defeated, and Woada killed herself. Corhred
returned to Scotland, where he died in peace in
the eighteenth year of his reign, A. 1). 72 ; and
was succeeded by Dardanus, nephew of Metel-
lanus ; who, proving a cruel tyrant, was beheaded
by his nobles A. D. 76. He was succeeded by
Corbred II., sirnamed Galdus, and called by the
Roman historians Galgacus, in whose reign the
invasion by Agricola happened. Agricola hav-
ing completed the conquest of the southern
parts, and in a great measure civilised the inha-
bitants, formed a like plan with regard to Scot-
land. At this time the Caledonians were ren-
dered more formidable than ever they had been;
394
SCOTLAND.
by the accession of great numbers from the
south ; for, though the Romans had civilised the
greatest part, many of those savage warriors,
disdaining the pleasures of a peaceable life, re-
tired to the northward, where the martial dispo-
sition of the Scots better suited their inclination.
The utmost efforts of valor, however, were not
proof against the discipline of the Roman troops
and the experience of their commander. In the
third year Agricola had penetrated as far as the
river Tay; but the particulars of his progress
are not recorded. In the fourth he built a line
of forts between the friths of Forth and Clyde,
to exclude the Caledonians from the south parts
of the island ; and the year after he subdued
those parts which lay to the south and west of
his forts, viz. the counties of Galloway, Can-
tyre, and Argyle, which were then inhabited by
a people called Cangi, who, as Tacitus ex-
pressly informs us, had never before been
known to the Romans. Agricola still pur-
sued the same prudent measures by which he
had already secured the possession of such a
large tract of country, advancing slowly, and
building forts as he advanced, to keep the people
in obedience. The Scots, though commanded
by their king, who is said to have been well ac-
quainted with the manner of fighting and disci-
pline of the Romans, were yet obliged to re-
treat ; but at last, finding that the enemy made
such progress as endangered the subjugation of
the whole country, he resolved to cut off their
communication with the southern parts,"and like-
wise to prevent all possibility of a retreat by
sea. Agricola then divided his troops into three
bodies, having a communication with each other.
Upon this, Galgacus resolved to attack the weak-
i -t of the three, which consisted only of the
ninth legion, and lay at that time at a place
called Lochore, about two miles from Loch-
Leven in Fife. The attack was made in the
night : and, as the Romans were both unpre-
pared and inferior in number, the Scots pene-
trated into the heart of their camp, .and were
making a great slaughter, when Agricola de-
tached some light armed troops to their assist-
ance ; by whom the Caledonians in their turn
were routed, and forced to fly to the marshes
and inaccessible places, where the enemy could
not follow them. This engagement has been
magnified by the Roman historians into a vic-
tory, though it can scarcely be admitted from the
testimonies of other historians. The Romans,
however, certainly advanced very considerably,
and the Scots as constantly retreated, till they
came to the foot of the Grampian mountains,
where the Caledonians resolvea to make their
last stand. In the eighth year of the war, Agri-
cola advanced to the foot of the mountains,
where he found the enemy ready to receive him.
Tacitus has recorded a speech of Galgacus, which
some think he fabricated for him, in which he
sets forth the aspiring disposition of the Ro-
mans, and encourages his countrymen to defend
themselves vigorously, as knowing that every
thing valuable was at stake. A desperate en-
gagement ensued. In the beginning the Britons
had the advantage by the dexterous manage-
ment of their bucklers; but Agricola having
ordered three Tungrian and two fiatavian co-
horts, armed with short swords, and embossed
bucklers terminating in a point, to attack the
Scots, who were armed with long swords, the
latter soon found these weapons useless in a close
encounter ; and as their bucklers only covered a
small part of their bodies, they were easily cut
in pieces by their adversaries. The most for-
ward of their cavalry and charioteers fell back
upon their infantry, and disordered the centre ;
but, the Britons endeavouring to out-flank their
enemies, the Roman general opposed them with
his horse ; and the Caledonians were at last
routed with great slaughter, and forced to fly
into the woods, whither the Romans pursued
with so little caution that numbers of tliem
were cut off. Agricola, however, having ordered
his troops to proceed more regularly, prevented
"the Scots from attacking and cutting off his men
in separate parties, as they had expected ; so
that this victory proved the greatest stroke to the
Caledonians that they had hitherto received.
This battle is supposed by some to have been
fought in Strathern, half a mile south from the
kirk of Comrie ; but others imagine the place
to have been near Fortingal Camp, a place
somewhat farther on the other side of the Tay
Great as this victory was it seems not to have
been productive of any solid or lasting advant-
age to the Romans; as Agricola, instead of
putting an end to the war by the immediate con-
quest of all Caledonia, retreated into the coun-
try of the Foresti, commonly supposed t
Forfarshire, though others imagine it to have
been the county of Fife. Here he receive-!
hostages from part of the Caledonians; and
ordered part of his fleet to sail round Britain,
that they might discover whether it was an
island or a continent. The Romans no sooner
had left that part of the country than the Cale-
donians demolished all the forts they had raised :
and, Agricola being soon after recalled by I)o-
mitian, the further progress of the Roman arms
was stopped, Galgacus proving superior to any
of the successors of that general. Galgacus or
Corbredus reigned peaceably after this, till A. D.
110, when he died, in the thirty-fifth year of his
reign.
From the time of Agricola to that of Adrian,
we know little of the affairs of Scotland, except-
ing that Lugtacus succeeded his father in 110,
and proving a cruel tyrant was killed by his no-
bles, A. D. 113. He was succeeded by his
cousin Mogbllus, in whose rei^n Adrian came
into Britain. During this internal the Scots
must have entirely driven the Romans out of
their country, 'and reconquered all that tract
which lay between Agricola's chain of forts and
Carlisle on the west, and Newcastle of Tinmouth
Bar on the east, which Adrian, on visiting Bri-
tain, fixed as the north boundary of the Roman
dominions. Here he built a wall between the
mouth of the Tine and the Solway Frith, to shut
out the barbarians ; which did not answer the
purpose, as it was only built of turf, and guard-
ed by no more than 18,000 men. See ADRIAN'S
WALL. On the departure of Adrian, he left
Julius Severus as his lieutenant ; but he carrifl
his arms to the north of Adrian'? wall: and this
SCOTLAND.
395
long interval of peace gave so much security to
Mogallus that he degenerated into a tyrant, and
was. murdered by his nobles. The only instance
of his tyranny which is recorded, however, is a
law by which it was enacted that the estates of
such as were condemned should be forfeited to
his exchequer, without any part thereof being
allotted to their wives and children ; an act
which subsists almost in its full force to this day
in Great Britain and the best regulated Euro-
pean governments. Mogallus was succeeded by
his son Conarus, A. D. 149, who, following his
father's bad example, was deposed and died in
jail, A. D. 163. His cousin Ethod, or Ethodius
I., succeeded him, who proved a good monarch,
and was successful in several battles against the
Romans, under Victorinus, Trebellus, and Per-
tinax ; yet was treacherously murdered by a
harper, in his thirty-third year, A. D. 195. The
harper was tortured to death. Satrael, Ethod's
brother, succeeded him, but becoming tyrannical
he was killed by a courtier, in his fourth year,
A. D. 199; and was succeeded by his brother
Donald I. In the reign of Antoninus Pius the
proprietor Lollius Urbius drove the Scots far to
the northward, and repaired the chain of forts
built by Agricola, which lay between the Carron
on the Frith of Forth and Dunglass on the Clyde.
These were joined together by turf walls, and
ormed a much better defence than the wall of
Adrian. However, after Antoninus's death, Corn-
modus having recalled Calpurnius-Agricola, an
;i')lu commander, who kept the Scots in awe, a
more dangerous war broke out than had ever
been experienced by the Romans in that quar-
ter. The Scots, having passed the wall, put all
the Romans they could meet with to the sword :
but they were soon repulsed by Ulpius Marcel-
lus, a general of consummate abilities, whom
Commodus sent into the islands. In a short
time the tyrant also recalled this able com-
mander. After his departure, the Roman disci-
pline in Britain suffered a total relaxation ; the
soldiery grew mutinous, and great disorders en-
sued : but these were all happily removed by the
arrival of Clodius Albinus, a person of great
skill and experience in military affairs. His
presence for some time restrained the Scots
within proper bounds : but, a civil war breaking
out between him and Severus, Albinus crossed
over to the continent with the greatest part of
the Roman forces in Britain; and, meeting his
antagonist at Lyons, a dreadful battle ensued,
in which Albinus was defeated, and his army
cut in pieces. See ROME. The absence of the
Roman forces gave encouragement to the Scots
to renew their depredations, which they did with
such success that this emperor became appre-
hensive of losing the whole island ; on which he
determined to go in person and quell these trou-
blesome enemies. The army he now collected
was far more numerous than any the Romans
had ever sent into Britain ; and, being com-
manded by such an able general as Severus, the
Scots must have been very hard pressed. The
particulars of this important expedition are very
imperfectly related ; however, we are assured
that Severus lost a vast number of men, it is said
not less than 50,000, in his march through Scot-
land. Yet he penetrated to the most northern
extremity of the island, and obliged the enemy
to yield up their arms. On his return, he built
a much stronger fortification to secure the fron-
tiers against the enemy than had ever been done
before, and which, in some places, coincided
with Adrian's wall, but extended farther at each
end. But, in the mean time, the Scots provoked
by the brutality of the emperor's son Caracalla,
whom he had left regent in his absence, again
took arms : on which Severus himself took the
field, with a design to extirpate the whole nation ;
for he gave orders to his soldiers ' not to spare
even the child in the mother's belly.' But his
death, which happened soon after, put a stop to
the execution of his revenge ; and his son Cara-
calla ratified the peace with the Scots. During
all these important transactions Scotland was
governed by Donald I., who was the first Chris-
tian king of this country. He also first coined gold
and silver, and died in his 18th year, A. D. 216.
Donald was succeeded by Ethodius II., the
son of Ethodius I., who, acting tyrannically, was
killed by his guards, A. D. 231. His son Athi-
rco succeeded, and, pursuing similar measures,
was deserted by his nobles, and killed himself
in his twelfth year, A. D. 242. His successor
Nathalocus, behaving also tyrannically, was
killed by his nobles in his eleventh year, A. D.
253. He was succeeded by Findocus, the son
of Athirco, who proved a good monarch, but
was killed at a hunting, by the instigation of his
brother Carausius, in his eleventh year, A. D. 264.
His other brother Donald II. succeeded, but
reigned only one year, being killed in battle by
Donald III., lord of the Isles, who usurped the
throne, and reigned twelve years, but was killed
by Crathilinthus, the son of Findocus, A. D.
277, who proved a good monarch. Mean time
his uncle Carausius had acquired great fame by
his repeated victories over the Romans, and was
elected king of the Britons. See CARAUSIUS
and ENGLAND. Crathilinthus died in his twenty-
fourth year, A. D. 301, and was succeeded by
his cousin Fincormachus, a brave and pious
prince, who assisted Octavius, king of the Bri-
tons, in a successful battle against the Romans,
wherein 16,000 Romans were slain, and 15,000
Britons ; for which service Westmoreland and
Cumberland were ceded to Scotland. He died
in his forty-seventh year, A. D. 348, and was
succeeded by Romachus nephew of Crathilin-
thus, who, for his cruelty, was beheaded by the
nobles, A. D. 351. Angusian, another nephew,
succeeded, and proved a good prince, but was
killed in battle, A. D. 354 ; and succeeded by
Fincormachus, a third nephew of Crathilinthus,
who reigned well and conquered the Picts, but
was treacherously murdered, A. D. 357, by two
Picts, who were tortured to death. He was suc-
ceeded by his son, Eugene I., under whom the
Roman and Pictish forces were united against
the Scots. The Picts were commanded by their
king, named Hungus, and the Romans by Max-
imus, who murdered Valentinian III., and after-
wards assumed the empire. The allies defeated
Eugene in the county of Galloway ; but, Maxi-
inus being obliged to return southward on ac-
count of an insurrection, the Picts were in their
396
SCOTLAND.
turn defeated by the Scots. Next year, however,
Maxima* marched against the Scots; who, being
now reduced to extremity, brought into the field
not only all the men capable of bearing arms,
but the women also. In this engagement the
Picts would have been utterly defeated, had they
not been supported by the Romans ; but Eugene
being killed, with the greatest part of his nobi-
lity, the Scots were defeated ; and so well did
the conquerors improve their victory, that their
antagonists were at last totally driven out of the
country. Some of them took refuge in the
.Ebudae Islands, and some in Scandinavia, but
most of them fled to Ireland, whence they made
frequent descents upon Scotland.
The Picts were at first highly pleased with the
victory they had gained over their antagonists ;
but being commanded to adopt the laws of the
Romans, and to choose no king who was not
sent them from Rome, they began to repent of
their having contributed to the expulsion of
the Scots ; and in the year 404, when Aistulphus
king of the Goths sent over a body of exiled
Scots to Britain, under Fergus, the son of Er-
thus, and grandson of Ethodius, brother of Eu-
gene I., the Picts immediately joined .them
against the common enemy. The consequence
was, that the Britons were pushed to the last ex-
tremity ; and the Romans being obliged, by the
inundation of northern barbarians who poured in
upon them, to recal their forces from Britain, the
inhabitants were reduced to a most miserable
situation. In the time of Fergus II. they were
obliged to give up all the country which lies
north of Adrian's wall. Fergus II. is celebrated
as not only a brave but a pious prince : but,
though often successful against the Romans, he
was at last killed in battle by them, in his six-
teenth year, A. D. 420. His son Eugene II.
succeeded him, and imitated his virtues. He
obtained several victories over the Romans and
their British allies. In his reign Graham, the
founder of the family of that name, who was of
the blood royal, and whose daughter was married
to Fergus II., performed many brave exploits,
and destroyed part of Antoninus's Wall, thence
called Graham's Dike. In the seventh year of
Eugene the Romans were expelled out of Scot-
land, after a bloody battle ; and soon after left
the island. Eugene died in his thirty-first year,
A. D. 451, and was succeeded by Dongard his
brother. It was in Eugene's reign that the Bri-
tons were reduced so low, that they were obliged
to write that remarkable letter to Rome entitled
' the groans of the Britons.' This, however, not
being attended with success, the Britons were
obliged to call in the Saxons to their assistance.
By these new allies the Scots were defeated in a
great battle, and their king Dongard drowned
in the Humber, A. D. 457, which put a stop
for some time to these incursions. Hitherto we
have seen the Scots very formidable enemies to
the southern Britons. But, when the Saxons be-
came the enemies of the Britons, the Scots
joined in a strict alliance with the latter; neither
does it appear that this league was ever dissolved,
though the united efforts of the Scots and Bri-
lons were not sufficient to preserve the indepen-
dency of the latter.
II. HISTORY OF SCOTLAND TO THE REIGN ur
KENNETH II.— A series of inonarchs followed,
of whom little is recorded. Dongard was suc-
ceeded by his brother Constantine I., who, he-
coming tyrannical, was killed by one of his
nobles, whose daughter he had ravished : A. D
479, in his twenty-second year. Congal I. the
son of Dongard succeeded him, who conquered
the Britons in a bloody battle, wherein 20,000
Britons, with Guythel prince of Wales, were
slain. He had afterwards some other battles
with the Britons and Saxons, wherein little was
gained by either party. He died in his twenty-
second year, A. D. 501, and was succeeded by
his brother Conranus, who also carried on a war
against the Saxons, and, along with the Picts,
assisted first king Ambrosius, and afterwards the
celebrated king Arthur against them with con-
siderable success. This excellent monarch,
however, after all his victories, was murdered by
traitors in his own chamber, A. D. 335, in his
thirty-fourth year. Conranus was succeeded by
Eugene III., whose reign was uncommonly
peaceable. He died in his twenty-third year,
A. D. 558, and was succeeded by his brother
Congal II., who was a pious prince, and uied in
his eleventh year, A. D. 569. His brother Kin-
natel succeeded, and reigned well the short
time he lived, which was only one year. He
was succeeded by Aidanus, the son of Conramis,
who joined the Britons against the Saxons.
He died iu the thirty-fifth year of his age,
A. D. 605; an;l was succeeded by Kenneth I.,
the son of Congal II., who only reigned one
year, and was succeeded by Eugene IV., the
son of Aidanus, in 606. He reigned in peace,
instituted good laws, and died in his fifteenth
year, A. D. 621. He was succeeded by his son
Ferquhard I., who, being a vicious tyrant, \\ as
deposed by his nobles, and put in prison, where
he killed himself, in his eleventh year, A. D. 632.
His son Donald IV. succeeded him, and proved
a pious and peaceable monarch, but was unfor-
tunately drowned in Loch Ta, while fishing, in
his fourteenth year, A. D. 646. He was suc-
ceeded by his brother Ferquhard II., who was
infamous for his avarice ; and died in his eigh-
teenth year, A. D. 664, by the bite of a wolf.
Malduinus, the son of Donald IV'., succeeded,
and was esteemed a pious and just sovereign ;
but his queen, becoming jealous of him, strangled
him in bed, in the twentieth year of his reign,
A. D. 684 ; for which she and her accomplices
in the murder were burnt. Eugene V., Maldu-
in's brother, succeeded him, and proved a valiant
monarch. He obtained a great victory over
F.dfred, king of Northumberland, who was killed
with 10,000 Saxons, and their ally Bredius king
of the Picts fled. Eugene died in his fourth
year, A. D. 688. Eugene VI., the son of Ferqu-
hard II., succeeded him, and maintained the
character of a religious and peaceable monarch.
He only reigned nine years, dying in 697. Am-
berkeleth, the son of Aidan, succeeded, but was
killed in battle by an arrow, in his second year.
He was succeeded by his brother Eugene VII.,
who made peace with Garnard, king of the
Picts, who married his daughter Spontana ; but
she was murdered the year following, in bed, by
SCOTLAND.
397
two assassins, who had intended to kill her hus-
band. Eugene endowed several churches, and
died in his sixteenth year, A. I). 715. Murdach,
the son of Amberkeleth, succeeded, and culti-
vated peace so successfully that he got all dif-
ferences settled during his reign, among the
Britons, Scots, Picts, and Saxons. He also
built Whithorn. The venerable Bede flourished
in his time. See BEDA. Murdach died in his
sixteenth year, and was succeeded by Etsinus, or
Ethwin, the son of Eugene VII. A. D. 730, who
had a peaceable and prosperous reign of thirty-
one years. Eugene VIII., the son of Murdach,
succeeded him, A. D. 76t, and began his reign
with an act of justice, by executing Donald lord
of the Isles, and the earl of Galloway, for their
crimes ; but soon after degenerated so greatly
himself, that his nobles conspired against and
killed him, in the third year of his reign. Fer-
gus III., the son of Etsinus, succeeded Eugene
in 764, and married Ethiolia, daughter of the
king of the Picts ; but, in the third year of his
reign, neglecting her for other women, she mur-
dered him ; and his servants being taken up on
suspicion, she came into the court, confessed the
murder, and stabbed herself. Fergus III. was
succeeded by Solvathius, the son of Eugene
VIII. in 767 ; who married a daughter of the
king of the Britons, and preserved his kingdom
in peace and prosperity for twenty years, when
he died of the gout, lie was succeeded by the
celebrated Achaius, the son of Etliwin, in 787;
who, after quelling some insurrections in Scot-
land and Ireland, entered into a treaty of per-
petual amity with Charles the Great, king of
France, and emperor of Germany, which treaty
continued to be observed inviolably between
the two nations, till the accession of James VI.
to the throne of England. Achaius strength-
ened this alliance still farther, by marrying a
daughter of Charlemagne, and by sending his
brother William, with several noblemen, and
4000 troops, to assist Charles in his various wars,
wherein they acquired great honor, upon which
our ancient historians expatiate very largely;
and inform us that, along with these troops,
Achaius sent two learned clerks, John and Cle-
ment, who gave the Parisians their first taste for
learning, and laid the foundation of the Uni-
versity ( f Pans ; and they add that John was
afterwards sent to Pavia, to establish learning
in Italy.
After this Achaius reigned in peace, and died
of age, in the thirty-second year of his reign ;
leaving one son, named Alpinus, by his second
queen Fergusia, sister of Ilungus, king of the
Picts ; which connexion afterwards proved the
foundation of the Scottish king's claim upon the
Pictish crown. Meantime Congal II., nephew
of Achaius, succeeded him, according to the
Scottish rule, A. D. 819. He died in the fifth
year of his short but peaceful reign ; and was
succeeded by Dongal, the son of Solvathius, in
824. Meantime a horrible scene of murder and
incest was acted in the royal family of the Picts.
Dorstologus, their king, was murdered by his
brother Eganus, who married his brother's widow
Brensia, who soon after murdered him in his bed
to avenge the death of her first husband. The
murder of these two princes gave rise to the next
remarkable event in the history of Scotland, viz.
the war with the Picts. The occasion of the
quarrel was, that Dongal king of Scotland
claimed, in the name of prince Alpinus, by a
former embassy, a right to the Pictish throne;
which, however, was rejected by the Picts : upon
which both parties had recourse to arms ; but,
when every thing was ready for the campaign,
Dongal was drowned in crossing the river Spey,
in the seventh year of his reign, A. D. 731. At
this time the dominions of the Scots compre-
hended the western islands, together with the
counties of Argyle, Knapdale, Kyle, Kintyre,
Lochaber, and a part of Breadalbane ; while the
Picts possessed all the rest of Scotland, and part
of Northumberland ; so that the Picts seem to
have been by much the most powerful people of
the two. However the Scots appear to have been
superior in military skill; for Alpin, the succes-
sor of Dongal, having engaged the Pictish army
near Forfar, after an obstinate engagement de-
feated them, and killed their king, though not
without the loss of a great number of his own
men. The Picts chose Brudus, the son of their
forme* king, to succeed him ; but soon after de-
posed and put him to death on account of his
stupidity and indolence. His brother Kenneth
shared the same fate on account of his cowardice;
till at last another Brudus, a brave and spirited
prince, ascended the throne. Having raised a
powerful army, he began with offering terms of
peace to the Scots ; which, however, Alpin re-
jected, and insisted upon a total surrender of his
crown. Brudus on this endeavoured to procure
the assistance of Edwin king of Northumberland.
Edwin accepted the money ; but, pretending to
be engaged in other wars, he refused the assist-
ance which he had promised. Brudus, not dis-
mayed by this disappointment, marched resolutely
against his enemies ; and the two armies came to
an engagement near Dundee. The superior
skill of the Scots in military affairs was about
to have decided the victory in their favor, when
Brudus used the following stratagem to preserve
his army from destruction : — He caused all his
attendants, and even the women who attended
his army, to assemble and show themselves at a
distance, as a powerful reinforcement coming to
the Picts. This struck the Scots with such a
panic that all the efforts of Alpin could not re-
cover them ; and they were accordingly defeated
with great slaughter. Alpin himself was taken
prisoner, and soon after beheaded by order of
the conqueror. This execution happened at a
place now called Pit-alpy, but in former times'
Bas- Alpin, which in the Gaelic language signi-
fies the death of Alpin ; or, as Monipenny has it,
Pas-Alpin, i.e. the head of Alpin. His head
was afterwards stuck upon a pole, and exposed
on a wall.
Alpin was succeeded by his son Kenneth II.,
A. D. 834, who, being a brave and enterprising
prince, resolved to take a most severe revenge
for his father's death. The Scots, however,
were so dispirited by their late defeat that they
were exceedingly averse to any renewal of the
war ; while, on the other hand, the Picts were
so much elated, that they made a law, by which
398
SCOTLAND.
it became death for any man to propose peace
with the Scots, whom they resolved to extermi-
nate ; and some of the nobility were expelled
the council on account of their opposition to
this law. The consequence was that civil dissen-
sions took place among them, and a bloody
battle was fought between the opposite parties
before the Scots had thought of making any far-
ther resistance. By these distractions Brudus,
•who had in vain endeavoured to appease them,
was so much affected that he died of grief, and
was succeeded by his brother Drusken. The
new prince also failed in his endeavours to ac-
commodate the civil differences ; so that the
Scots, by gaining so much respite, at last began
to recover their courage; and some of them,
having ventured into the Pictish territories, car-
ried off Alpin's bead from Abernethy, the capital
of their dominions. In the mean time Kenneth
gained over the nobility to his side by the fol-
lowing stratagem ; which, however ridiculous,
is not incredible, if we consider the superstition
of that age. Having invited them to an enter-
tainment, the king introduced into the hall where
they slept a person clothed in a robe made of the
skins of fishes, which made such a lumirAns ap-
pearance in the dark that he was mistaken for an
angel or some supernatural messenger. To add
to their terror he denounced, through a speaking-
trumpet, the most terrible judgments if war was
not immediately declared against the Picts, the
murderers of the late king. In consequence of
this celestial admonition war was immediately
renewed with great vigor. The Picts were not
deficient in their preparations, and had now pro-
cured some assistance from England. The first
battle was fought near Stirling ; where the Picts,
being deserted by their English auxiliaries, were
utterly defeated. Drusken escaped by the swift-
ness of his horse, and a few days after made ap-
plication to Kenneth for a cessation of hostilities ;
but, as the Scottish monarch demanded a sur-
render of all the Pictish dominions, the treaty
was instantly broken off. Kenneth pursued his
good fortune, and conquered the counties of
-Mi-arns, Angus, and Fife; but, as he marched
against Stirling, he received intelligence that
these counties had again revolted, and cut off all
the garrisons which he had left, and that Drusken
was at the head of a considerable army in these
parts. On this Kenneth hastened to oppose him,
and a negociation again took place. The result
was still unfavorable. Kenneth insisted on an
absolute surrender of the counties of Fife,
M earns, and Angus ; which being refused, both
parties prepared for a decisive battle. The en-
gagement was very bloody and desperate, the
Picts fighting like men in despair. Drusken re-
newed the battle seven times, but at last was en-
tirely defeated and killed, and the counties in
dispute became the immediate property of the
conqueror. Kenneth did not fail to improve
his victory by reducing the rest of the Pictish
territories ; which he is said to have done with
the greatest cruelty, and even to have totally ex-
terminated the inhabitants. The capital, called
Camelon (supposed to have been Abernethy),
held out four months ; but was at last taken by
surprise, and every living creature destroyed.
This was followed by the reduction of the Maiden
Castle, now that of Edinburgh ; which was
abandoned by the garrison, who fled to Northum-
berland. After the reduction of these imposiant
places the rest of the country made no great re-
sistance, and Kenneth became mister i>:
whole kingdom of Scotland in the p. i sent titent
of the word.
III. HISTORY OF SCOTLAND FROM THE COX-
QUEST OF THE PlCTS UNTIL THE DEATH OF
ALEXANDER III. — Besides this war with the
Picts, Kenneth is said to have been successful
against the Saxons, though of these wars we
have very little account. Having reigned ten
years in peace after his subjugation of the Picis,
and composed a code of laws for the good of his
people, Kenneth died of a fistula, at Fort Teviot,
near Duplin, in Perthshire, A. D. 854. Before
his time the seat of the Scottish government had
been in Argyleshire ; but he removed it to Scone,
by transferring thither the famous black stone,
supposed to be the palladium of Scotland, and
which was afterwards carried off by Edward I.
of England, and lodged in Westminster Abbey.
Kenneth II., surnamed the Great by some his-
torians, was succeeded by his brother Donald
V., who is represented as a man of the worst
character ; so that the remaining Picts, who had
fled out of Scotland were encouraged to apply to
the Saxons for assistance, promising to make
Scotland tributary to the Saxon power after it
should be conquered. This proposal was ac-
cepted, and the confederates invaded Scotland
with a powerful army, and took the town of Ber-
wick ; however, they were soon after defeated
by Donald, who took also their ships and pro-
visions. This capture proved their ruin ; for,
some of the ships being loaded with wine, the
Scots indulged themselves so much with that
liquor that they became incapable of defending
themselves ; the consequence of this was th.it
the confederates, rallying their troops, attacked
them in that state of intoxication. The Scots
were defeated with excessive slaughter ; 20,000
of them lay dead on the spot, the king and his
principal nobility were taken prisoners, and all
the country from the Tweed to the Forth became
the property of the conquerors. Still, however,
the conquerors were unable to pursue their vic-
tory farther, and a peace was concluded, on con-
dition that the Saxons should be masters of all
the conquered country. Thus the Forth and
Clyde became the southern boundaries of the
Scottish dominions. It was agreed that the
Forth should from that time forward be called
the Scots Sea ; and it was made capital for any
Scotchman to set his foot on English ground.
They were to erect no forts near the English con-
fines, to pay an annual tribute of £1000, and to
give up sixty of the sons of their chief nobility
as hostages. A mint \vas erected by the Saxon
prince named Osbreth, at Stirling; and a cross
raised on the bridge of that place, with the fol-
lowing inscription, implying that this place was
the boundary between Scotland and England : —
Anglos a Scotis separat crux ista reraotis :
Anna hie slant Bruti slant Scoti sub hac cruce tuti.
After the conclusion of this treaty, so humiliating
SCOTLAND.
399
to the Scots, the Picts, finding that their interest
had been entirely neglected, fled to Norway,
while those who remained in England were mas-
sacred. Donald shared the common fate of un-
fortunate princes, being dethroned and shut up
in prison, where he killed himself, in 858. But
the character of Donald, and the whole account
of these transactions, rests on the credit of a
single author, namely Boece; for other writers
represent Donald as a hero, and successful in
his wars; but the obscurity in which the whole
of this period of Scottish history is involved
renders it impossible to determine these matters.
Donald V. was succeeded by his nephew Con-
stantine II., the son of Kenneth II., in whose
reign Scotland was first invaded by the Danes,
who proved such formidable enemies to the Eng-
lish. This invasion was occasioned by some exiled
Picts who fled to Denmark, where they prevailed
upon the king of that country to send his two
brothers, Hunger and Hubba, to recover the
Pictish dominions from Constantine. These
princes landed on the coast of Fife, where they
committed the most horrid barbarities, not
sparing even the ecclesiastics who had taken re-
fuge in the island of May at the mouth of the
Forth. Constantine defeated one of the Danish
armies commanded by Hubba, near the water of
Leven ; but was himself defeated and taken pri-
soner by Hungar, who caused him to be behead-
ed at a place since called theJDevil's Cave, in
874. This unfortunate action cost the Scots
10,000 men; but the Danes seem not to have
purchased their victory very easily, as they were
obliged immediately afterwards to abandon their
conquests, and retire to their own country. How-
tver the Danish monuments that are still to be
seen in Fife leave no room to doubt that many
bloody scenes had been acted here between the
Scots and Danes besides that above mentioned.
Constantine II. was succeeded by his brother
1-tl), or his son, as Monipenny styles him, sur-
numed the Swift-footed, from his agility. Being
devoted to luxury, his nobles took him and put
him in prison, where he died the third day after
of melancholy, in the second year of his reign,
A. D. 876. He was succeeded by Gregory the
son of Dongal, contemporary with Alfred of
England, and both princes deservedly acquired
the surname of Great. The Danes at their de-
parture had left the Picts in possession of Fife.
Against them Gregory immediately marched,
and quickly drove them into the north of Eng-
land, where their confederates were already mas-
ters of Northumberland and York. In their
way thither they threw a garrison into the town
of Berwick; but this was presently reduced by
Gregory, who put to the sword all the Danes,
but spared the lives of the Picts. From Berwick
Gregory pursued the Danes into Northumber-
land, where he defeated them, and passed the
winter in Berwick. He then marched against
the Cumbrians, who, being mostly Picts, were
in alliance with the Danes. Them he easily over-
came, and obliged to yield up all the lands they
had formerly possessed belonging to the Scots,
at the same time that he agreed to protect them
from the Danes. In a short time, however, Con-
stantine the king of the Cumbrians violated the
convention he had made, and invaded Annan-
dale ; but was defeated and killed by Gregory
near Lochmaben. After this victory Gregory
reduced the counties of Cumberland and West-
moreland, which, it is said, were ceded to him
by Alfred the Great; and indeed the situation
of Alfred's affairs at this time renders such a
cession probable. Gregory next engaged in a
war with the Irish, to support Donach, an Irish
prince, against two rebellious noblemen. The
Irish were the first aggressors, and invaded Gal-
loway ; but, being repulsed with great loss, Gre-
gory went ovei to Ireland in person, where the
two chieftains, who had been enemies to each
other before, HOW joined their forces to oppose
the common enemy. The first engagement
proved fatal to one of their chiefs named Brian,
who was killed with a great number of his fol-
lowers. After this victory Gregory reduced
Dundalk and Drogheda. On his way to Dublin
he was opposed by a chieftain named Corneil,
who shared the fate of his confederate, being also
killed, and his army entirely defeated. Gregory
then became guardian to the young prince whom
he came to assist, appointed a regency, and
obliged them to swear that they would never
admit into the country either a Dane or an Eng-
lishman without his consent. Having then placed
garrisons in the strongest fortresses, he returned
to Scotland, where he built the city of Aberdeen ;
and died in 894, at his castle of Dundore in the
Garioch, in the eighteenth year of his reign.
Gregory was succeeded by Donald VI. the
son of Constantine II., who imitated the virtues
of his predecessor. The Scottish historians
unanimously agree that Northumberland was at
that time in the hands of their countrymen ;
while the English as unanimously affirm that it
was subject to the Danes, who paid homage to
Alfred. Be this as it will, however, Donald
continued to live on good terms with the English
monarch, and sent him a body of forces, who
proved of considerable advantage to him in his
wars with the Danes. The clans of the Murrays
and Rosses having invaded each other, and com-
menced a bloody civil war, Donald came upon
them with a great army, and punished the ring-
leaders in 903. He died at Forres in 905. He
was succeeded by Constantine III., the son of
Eth, who married a daughter of the prince of
Wales ; he also entered into an alliance with the
Danes against the English. The reason of this
confederacy was that the English monarch, Ed-
ward the Elder, finding the Scots in possession
of the northern counties of England, made such
extravagant demands upon Constantine as
obliged him to ally with the Danes to preserve
his dominions in security. However, the league
subsisted only for two years, after which the
Danes found it more for their advantage to re-
sume their ancient friendship with the English.
Constantine afterwards appointed the presump-
tive heir to the Scottish crown, Malcolm, or
according to some Eugene, the son of the late
king Donald VI., prince of the southern coun-
ties, on condition of his defending them against
the attacks of the English. The young prince
had soon an opportunity of exerting his valor :
but, not behaving with the requisite caution, he
400
SCOTLAND.
.was defeated with the loss of almost all his army,
he himself being carried wounded out of the
field; and, in consequence of this disaster, Con-
stantine was obliged to do homage to Edward
for the possessions he had to the south of the
Scottish boundary. In the beginning of the
reign of Athelstan, the son of Edward the Elder,
the northern Danes were encouraged by some
conspiracies formed against that monarch to
throw off the yoke ; and their success was such
that Athelstan entered into a treaty with Sithrac
the Danish chief, and gave him his daughter in
marriage. Sithrac, however, did not long survive
iis nuptials ; and his son Guthred, endeavouring
to throw off the English yoke, was defeated, and
obliged to fly into Scotland. This brought on a
series of hostilities between the Scots and En-
glish, which in 938 issued in a general engage-
ment. At this time the Scots, Irish, Cumbrians,
and Danes, were confederated against the
English. The Scots were commanded by their
king Constantine, the Irish by Anlaf, the brother
of Guthred the Danish prince, the Cumbrians by
their own sovereign, and the Danes by Froda.
The generals of Athelstan were Edmund his
brother, and Turketii his favorite. The English
attacked the entrenchments ot' the confederates,
where the chief resistance they met with was
from the Scots. Constantine was in the utmost
danger of being killed or taken prisoner, but was
rescued by the bravery of his soldiers ; however,
after a most obstinate engagement, the confede-
rates were defeated with such slaughter that the
slain are said to have been innumerable. The
consequence was, that the Scots were deprived
of all their possessions south of the Forth; and
Constantine, quite dispirited by his misfortune,
resigned the crown to Malcolm, and retired to
the monastery of the Culdees at St. Andrews,
where he became a canon, and died five years
after, in 943. The distresses which the English
sustained in their subsequent wars with the
Danes gave the Scots an opportunity of retriev-
ing their affairs; and in 944 Malcolm I., the
successor of Constantine, was invested with the
sovereignty of Northumberland, on condition of
his holding it as a fief of the crown of England,
and assisting in defence of the northern border.
Soon after the conclusion of this treaty, Malcolm
going to the county of Moray, to settle some dis-
turbances, was treacherously murdered in the
ninth year of his reign. The murderers were all
apprehended, tortured, and put to death. Mal-
colm was succeeded by his son Indulfus, A. D.
952. In this reign the Danes became extremely
formidable by their invasions, which they now
renewed with greater fury than ever, being exas-
perated by the friendship subsisting between the
Scots and English monarchs. Ilaquin, king of
Norway, also attempted an invasion, but was de-
feated by Indulfus. The first descent of the
Danes was upon East Lothian, where they were
soon expelled, but crossed over to Fife. Here
they were again defeated, and driven out ; and
so well had Indulfus guarded the coasts that
they could tiot find an opportunity of landing ;
till, having seemed to steer towards their own
country, the Scots were thrown off their guard,
and the Danes on a sudden made good their land-
ing at Cullen, in Banffshire. Here Indulfus soon
came up with them, attacked their camp, and
drove them towards their ships ; but was killed
in an ambuscade, into which he fell during his
pursuit, in the ninth year of his reign. He was
succeeded by Duffus the son of Malcolm 1. A. D.
961, to whom historians gave an excellent cha-
racter; but, after a reign of five years, he was
murdered in 966. He was succeeded by Culen
the son of Indulfus, who had been nominated
prince of Cumberland, in his father's lifetime, as
heir-apparent to the throne. He is represented
as a very degenerate prince ; and is said to have
given himself up to sensuality in a manner al-
most incredible, being guilty of incontinence not
only with women of all ranks, but even with his
own sisters and daughters. The people in the
mean time were fleeced to support the extrava-
gance and luxury of their prince. In conse-
quence of this, an assembly of the states was
convened at Scone for the resettling of the go-
vernment ; but on his way thither Culen was as-
sassinated in the fourth year of his reign, near the
village of Mothven, by Rohard, or llodard,
thane of Fife, whose daughter he had debauched.
The provocations which Culen had given to his
nobility seem to have rendered them totally un-
tractable and licentious ; which gave an occa-
sion to a remarkable revolution in the reign of
Kenneth III., who succeeded Culen, A. D. 970.
This prince, being a man of great resolution,
began with relieving the common people from
the oppressions of the nobility, which were now
intolerable ; and this plan he pursued with so
much success that, having nothing to fear from
the great barons, he ordered them to appear be-
fore him at Lanerk ; but the greatest part, con-
scious of their demerits, did not attend. The
king so well dissembled his displeasure that
those who came were quite charmed with his af-
fability, and the noble entertainment he gave
them ; in consequence of which, when an assem-
bly was called next year, the guilty were en-
couraged to appear as well as the innocent. No
sooner had this assembly met, however, than the
place of meeting was beset with armed men.
The king then informed them that none had any
thing to apprehend, excepting such as had been
notorious offenders ; and these he ordered to be
immediately taken into custody, telling them
that their submitting to public justice must be
the price of their liberty. They were obliged to
accept the king's offer, and the criminals were
punished according to their deserts. About this
time Edgar, king of England, finding himself
hard pressed by the Danes, found means to
unite the king of Scotland and the prince of
Cumberland along with himself in a treaty against
the Danes ; which gave occasion to a report
that Kenneth had become tributary to the king
of England. This, however, is utterly denied by
all the Scottish historians; who affirm that
Kenneth cultivated a good correspondence with
Edgar, both because he expected assistance in
defending his coasts, and because he intended
entirely to alter the mode of succession to the
throne. About this time the Danes made a
dreadful invasion. Their original intention
seems to have been to land on some part of the
SCOTLAND.
401
English coasts ; but, finding them probably too
well guarded, they landed at Montrose in Scot-
land, committing every where the most dreadful
ravages. Kenneth at that time was at Stirling,
and quite unprepared ; however, having collect-
ed a handful of troops, he cut off many of the
enemy as they were straggling up and down,
but could not prevent them from besieging Perth.
Nevertheless, as the king's army constantly in-
creased, he re-solved to give the enemy battle.
The scene of this action was at Lu nearly, near
Perth. The king is said to have offered ten
pounds in silver, or the value of it in land, for
the head of every Dane which should be brought
him ; and an immunity from all taxes to the sol-
diers who served in his army, provided they
should be victorious ; but, notwithstanding the
utmost efforts of the Scots, their enemies fought
so desperately that Kenneth's army fled, and
must have been totally defeated, had not the
fugitives been stopped by a yeoman, named
Thomas, and his two sons, who were coming up
to the battle. Buchanan and Boece inform us,
that, these countrymen were ploughing in a field
hard by the scene of action, and, perceiving that
their countrymen fled, they loosed their oxen,
and made use of the yokes as weapons, with
which they first obliged their countrymen to
stand, and then fell upon their enemies. The
fight was now renewed with such fury on the
part of the Scots, that the Danes were utterly
defeated; and, after the battle, the king rewarded
Thomas with the barony of Errol, in the Carse of
Cowrie, ennobled his family, and gave them an
armorial bearing of a bloody yoke in a field, al-
luding to the rustic weapons with which they
had achieved this glorious exploit; and gave
him also the surname of Hay, because, when
weary with the fatigue of his exertions, he had
said Oh Hay ! After this Kenneth stained all
his glory by poisoning prince Malcolm, lord of
Cumberland, &c., the heir apparent of the
crown : and, to secure the succession more effec-
tually in his own family, prevailed on the states
to make the succession hereditary, without re-
gard to infancy or age. After this, either the
king's conscience persuaded him, or the super-
stition of the times invented the story, that he
heard a voice from heaven, threatening him and
his son with vengeance for the murder of the
prince. In either case the threatening was ful-
filled. In 994 Kenneth was murdered by a lady
named Fenella, whose son he had caused to be
put to death. The murder was perpetrated in
Fenella's castle, at Fettercairn, in the Mearns,
where she had persuaded the king to pay her a
visit, by an automaton image of the king ia
brass, which held out a golden apple in its hand ;
which Fenella desired the king to take, but he
had no sooner dftie so, than the internal springs
moved a cross-bow held by the image, and shot
the king through the body. His attendants
waited long near the place; but. being at length
tired out, they broke open the doors, and found
their king murdered; upon whicVi they laid the
castle in ashes ; but Fenella had escaped by a
posteirv
The throne was then seized by a usurper
named Coustantine IV. the son of Culen, who,
VOL. XIX
being killed in battle at Cramond, after a remit
of a year and a half, was succeeded by Crim, the
son of king Duffus ; and he again was defeated
and killed by Malcolm the son of Kenneth, the
lawful heir of the Scottish throne, A. D. 10U4.
After this victory, however, Malcolm did noi
immediately assume the sovereignty; but asked
the crown from the nobles, although, by the law
passed in the reign of Kenneth, the succession
to the throne of Scotland was now hereditary.
This they immediately granted, and Malcolm
was crowned king, A. D. 1004. He joined him-
self in alliance with the king of England ; and
proved so successful against the Danes in
England, that Sweno their king resolved to di-
rect his whole force against him by an invasion
of Scotland. His first attempt, however, proved
very unsuccessful ; all his soldiers being cut in
pieces, except some few who escaped to their
ships, while the loss of the Scots amounted to
only thirty men. But in the mean time, Duncan
priace of Cumberland, having neglected to pay
his homage to the king of England, the latter in-
vaded that country in conjunction with the Danes
Malcolm took the field against them, and defeat-
ed both ; but while he was thus employed in the
south, a new army of Danes landed in the north
at the mouth of the Spey. Malcolm advanced
against them with an army much inferior in
number; and his men, neglecting every thing
but the blind impulses of fury, were almost all
cut to pieces : Malcolm himself being desperately
wounded. By this victory the Danes were so
much elated that they sent for their wives and
children, intending to settle in this country. The
castle of Nairn, then thought almost impregnable
fell into their hands ; and the towns of Elgin anc.
Forres were abandoned both by their garrisons
and inhabitants. The Scots were every-where
treated as a conquered people, and employed in
the most servile offices by the haughty conquerors ;
who, to render the castle of Nairn, as they
thought, absolutely impregnable, cut through the
small isthmus which joined it to the land. All
this time, however, Malcolm was raising forces
in the southern counties ; and, having at last
got an army together, he came up with the Danes
at Murtloch, near Balveney, which appears at
this day to have been a strong Danish fortifica-
tion. Here he attacked the enemy ; but, having
the misfortune to lose three of his general
olh'cers, he was again obliged to retreat. How-
ever, the Danish general happening to be killed
in the pursuit, the Scots were encouraged to
renew the fight with such vigor that they ob-
tained at last a complete victory; but suffered so
much that they were unable to derive from it all
the advantages which might otherwise have
accrued. On the news of this ill success, Sweno
ordered two fleets, one from England and ano-
ther from Norway, to make a descent upon
Scotland, under Camus, one of his most re-
nowned generals. The Danes attempted to land
at the mouth of the Forth ; but, finding every
place there well fortified, they were obliged to
move farther northward, and effected their pur-
pose at Redhead in Angus-shire. The castle of
Brechin was first besieged ; but, meeting with a
stout resistance there, they laid the town and
2 D
402
SCOTLAND.
church in ashes. Thence they advanced to the
village of Panbride, and encamped at a place
called Karbuddo. Malcolm in the mean time
was at hand with his army, and encamped at a
place called Barr, in the neighbourhood of which
both parties prepared to decide the fate of Scot-
land ; for, as Moray and the northern provinces
were already in the possession of the Danes, it
was evident that a victory at this time must put
them in possession of the whole. The engage-
ment was desperate, and so bloody that the
rivulet which proceeds from Loch Tay is said to
have had its waters dyed with the blood of the
slain ; but at last the Danes gave way and fled.
There was at that time in the army of Malcolm,
a young prince of the name of Keith, who com-
manded a colony of the Catti, a German tribe,
who settled in the north of Scotland, and gave
name to Caithness. He pursued Camus; and,
having overtaken him, engaged and killed him ;
but another Scottish officer coming up, disputed
with Keith the glory of the action. While the
dispute lasted Malcolm came up ; who suffered
them to decide it by single combat. In this
second combat Keith proved also victorious, and
killed his antagonist. The dying person con-
fessed the justice of Keith's claim ; and Malcolm
dipping his finger in his blood marked the shield
of Keith with three strokes, pronouncing the
words Veritas vincit, Truth overcomes, which
has ever since been the armorial bearing and
motto of the family of Keith. The shattered
remains of the Danish forces reached their ships;
but being driven back by contrary winds, and
provisions becoming scarce, they put ashore 500
men on the coast of Buchan, to procure them
some food : but, their communication with the
ships being soon cut off, they fortified themselves
as well as they could, and made a desperate resis-
tance; but at last were all put to the sword.
The place where this massacre happened is still
called Crudane ; being probably an abbreviation
of Cruor Danorum, i. e. the blood of the Danes,
a name imposed on it by the ecclesiastics of those
days. Svveno, not yet discouraged, sent his son
Canute, afterwards king of England, and one of
the greatest warriors of that age (see CANUTE),
into Scotland, with an army more powerful than
any that had yet appeared. Canute landed in
Buchan ; and, as the Scots were much weakened
by such a long continued war, Malcolm thought
proper to act on the defensive. But the Scots,
who now thought themselves invincible, de-
manded to be led on to a general engagement.
Malcolm complied with their desire, and a battle
ensued ; in which, though neither party had much
reason to boast of victory, the Danes were so much
reduced that they willingly concluded a peace on
the following terms, viz.— That the Danes should
immediately depart Scotland; that as long as
Malcolm and Sweno lived neither of them
should wage war with the other, or help each
other's enemies ; and that the field in which the
battle was fought should be set apart and conse-
crated for the burial of the dead. These stipula-
tions were punctually fulfilled by Malcolm, who
built in the neighbourhood a chapel dedicated to
Olaus, the tutelar saint of these northern nations.
After all these glorious exploits, and bfC-oming
the second legislator in the Scottish nation, Mal-
colm is said to have stained the latter part of his
reign with avarice and oppression ; in con-
sequence of which he was murdered at the age
of eighty, after he had reigned above thirty
years. This assassination was perpetrated %vhen
he was on his way to Glammis. His own do-
mestics are said to have been privy to the mur-
der, and to have fled along with the conspirators ;
but, in passing the lake of Forfar on the ice, it
gave way with them, and they were all drowned,
their bodies being discovered some days after.
This account is confirmed by the sculptures
upon some stones erected near the spot ; one of
them which is still called Malcolm's gravestone,
and all of them exhibit some rude representa-
tions of the murder and the fate of the assassins.
Malcolm II. was succeeded in 1034 by his
grandson Duncan I., but he is said to have had
another grandson, by a daughter named Dowoda,
viz. the famous Macbeth ; though some are of
opinion that Macbeth was not the grandson of
Malcolm, but of Fenella who murdered Ken-
neth III. The first years of Duncan's reign
passed in tranquility, but domestic broils soon
took place on the following occasion. Banquo,
thane of Lochaber, and ancestor to the royal
family of Stuart, acled then in the capacity of
steward to Duncan, by collecting his rents ; but,
being very rigid in the execution of his office, he
was way-laid, robbed, and almost murdered. Or'
this outrage Banquo complained, as soon as he re-
covered of his wounds and could appear at court.
The robbers were summoned to surrender them-
selves to justice; but, instead of obeying, thev
killed the messenger. Macbeth represented this in
such strong terms that he was sent witli an army
to reduce the insurgents, who had already de-
stroyed many of the king's friends. This com-
mission he performed with such success that the
rebel chief put an end to his own life ; after
which Macbeth sent his head to the king, and
then proceeded with the utmost severity against
the insurgents, who were composed of Irishmen,
Islanders, and Highlanders. This insurrection
was scarcely quelled, when the Danes landed
again in Fife ; and Duncan put himself at the
head of an army, having the thanes Macbeth
and Banquo serving under him. The Danes
were commanded by Sweno king of Norway, and
eldest son of Canute. He proceeded with all
the barbarity customary with his nation, putting
to death men, women, and children, who fell in
his way. A battle was fought between the two
nations near Culross, in which the Scots were
defeated ; but the Danes purchased their victory
so dearly that they could not improve it ; and
Duncan retreated to Perth, while Macbeth was
sent to raise more forces. In the mean time
Sweno laid siege to Perth, whfch was defended
by Duncan and Banquo. The Danes were so
much distressed for want of provisions, that they
at last consented to treat of a peace, provided
the pressing necessities of the army were re-
lieved. The Scottish historians inform us that
this treaty was set on foot to amuse Svveno, and
gain time for the stratagem which Duncan was
preparing. This was no other than a barbarous
contrivance of infusing intoxicating herbs into
SCOTLAND.
403
t!:e liquors that were sent along with the other
provisions to the Danish camp. These sopo-
rifics had their intended effect ; and, while the
Danes were under their influence, Macbeth and
Banquo broke into their camp, where they put
all to the sword, and it was with difficulty that
some of Sweno's attendants carried him on board
the only ship of all the fleet that returned to
Norway. It was not long, however, before a
fresh body of Danes landed at Kiughorn, in
Fifeshire; but they were entirely defeated by
Macbeth and Banquo. Such of the Danes as
escaped fled to their ships ; but before they de-
parted they obtained leave to bury their dead in
Inchcolm, a small island lying in the Forth,
where one of their monuments is still to be seen.
Thus ended the formidable invasions of the
Danes; after which Duncan applied himself to
the administration of justice, and the reforma-
tion of the manners of his subjects. Macbeth,
however, who had obtained great reputation by
his success against the Danes, began to form am-
bitious designs, and to aspire to the crown itself.
The fables relating to his usurpation are so well
known, from the tragedy composed by Shak-
speare which bears the name of Macbeth, that
we need not take notice of them ; but only men-
tion the fact, that Duncan, not knowing he had
so dangerous an enemy near his person, was
murdered at Inverness, in the sixth year of his
reign, by Macbeth, who succeeded him in the
throne, A. D. 1040. During the greatest part of
the reign of the usurper, Malcolm, the true heir
to the crown of Scotland, kept close in his prin-
cipality of Cumberland, without any thoughts
of ascending his father's throne. Macbeth for
some time governed with moderation, and
enacted some excellent laws, but at last became
a tyrant. Becoming jealous of Banquo, the
most powerful subject in his dominions, he in-
vited him to an entertainment, and caused him
to be treacherously murdered. His son Fleance
was destined to the same fate, but escaped to
Wales. After him Macduff, the thane of Fife,
was the most powerful person in Scotland ; for
which reason, Macbeth determined to destroy
him. But Macduff, understanding this, fled to
France; and Macbeth cruelly put to death his
wife and infant children, and sequestrated his es-
tate. Macduff vowed revenge, and encouraged
Malcolm to attempt to dethrone the tyrant.
Macbeth opposed them with his whole force ;
but, being defeated in a pitched battle, he took
refuge in the most inaccessible places of the
Highlands, where he defended himself for two
years; but in the mean time Malcolm was ac-
knowledged king of Scotland, and crowned at
Scone, A. D. 1055. The war between Macbeth
and the new king continued for two years after
the coronation of the latter ; but at last he was
killed in a sally by Macduff. However, the
public tranquillity did not end with his life. His
followers elected one of his kinsmen named
Lullach, surnamed the Idiot, to succeed him :
but he, unable to withstand Malcolm, \\ithdrew
to the north, where, being pursued, he was killed at
Essey, in Strathbogie, after a rei<jn of four months.
Malcolm being now established on the throne,
A. D. 1057, began with rewarding Macduff tor
his great services ; and conferred upon his
family four extraordinary privileges: — 1. That
they should place the king in his chair of state
at the coronation. 2. That they should !<>ad the
van of all the royal armies. 3. That they should
have a regality within themselves : and, 4. That
if any of Macduff's family should happen to kill
a nobleman unpremeditatedly, he should pay
twenty-four marks of silver, and if a plebeian,
twelve. The king's next care was to reinstate in
their father's possessions all the children who
had been disinherited by the late tyrant; which
he did in a convention of his nobles held at
Forfar. In the time of William the Conqueror,
Malcolm was engaged in a dangerous war with
England, the occasion of which was as follows :
On the death of Edward the Confessor, Harold
II. seized the throne of England, to the preju-
dice of Edgar Atheling the true heir to the
crown. However, he created him earl of Ox-
ford, and treated him with great respect; but, on
the defeat and death of Harold, William disco-
vered some jealousy of Edgar. Soon after,
William having occasion to pay a visit to his do-
minions in Normandy, he appointed Edgar to
attend him, along with some other noblemen
whom he suspected to be in his interest; but, on
his return to England, he found the people in a
state of such disaffection to his government, that
he proceeded with great severity, and great num-
bers of his subjects were obliged to take refuge
in Cumberland and the southern parts of Mal-
colm's dominions. Edgar had two sisters, Mar-
garet and Christina : these, with his two chief
friends, Gospatric and Marteswin, soon made
him sensible how precarious his life was under
such a jealous tyrant, and persuaded him to make
preparations for flying into Hungary or some
foreign country. Edgar accordingly set sail with
his mother Agatha, his two sisters, and a great
train of Anglo-Saxon noblemen ; but by stress
of weather was forced into the Frith of Forth,
where the illustrious exiles landed at the place
since called the Queen's Ferry. Malcolm no
sooner heard of their landing than he paid them
a visit in person ; and at this visit became
enamoured of the princess Margaret. In conse-
quence of this the chief of Edgar's party re-
paired to the court of Scotland. William soon
made a formal demand of Edgar; and, on Mal-
colm's refusal, declared war against him. William
was the most formidable enemy the Scots had
ever encountered, as having not only the whole
force of England, but of Normandy at his com-
mand. However, as he had tyrannised most un-
mercifully over his English subjects, they were
much more inclined to assist his enemies than
himself; and he even found himself obliged to
give up the county of Northumberland to Gos-
patric, who had followed Edgar, up6n condition
of his making war on the Scots. This nobleman
accordingly invaded Cumberland ; in return for
which Malcolm ravaged Northumberland in a
dreadful manner, carrying off an immense booty,
and inviting the Irish and Danes to join him :
for even at this time the Danes kept up their
claims upon the crown of England. The Irish
were also interested in advancing the cause of
Harold's three sons, who had put themselves
2 D 2
404
SCOT L A N D.
under iheir protection ; besides their view to ob-
tain plunder. However, as all these views tended
to the destruction of William's power, a union
was formed against him ; but, when they came to
stipulations, the parties disagreed. The three
sons of Harold, with a body of Irish, made a de-
scent upon Somersetshire, and defeated a body
of English ; but the Irish having obtained an
opportunity of acquiring some booty immedi-
ately retired with it. The Danes landed at the
mouth of the Humber from forty small ships,
where they were joined by Edgar and his party ;
and had the allies been unanimous, it is probable
that William's government would have been
overthrown. By this time the latter had taken
from Gospatric the earldom of Northumberland,
and given it to Robert Cummin one of his Nor-
man barons ; but the Northumbrians having
joined Gospatric, and received the Danes as
their countrymen, murdered Cummin and all his
followers at Durham. After this they laid siege
to the forts built by William in Yorkshire : but,
not being able to reduce them, the English,
Scots, and Danes, united their forces, and took
the city of York, and put the garrison of
3000 Normans to the sword ; this success
was followed by many incursions and ravages,
in which the Danes and Northumbrians ac-
quired great booty. It soon appeared, how-
ever, that these allies had the interest of Edgar
no more at heart than the Irish : and that all the
dependence of this forlorn prince was upon Mal-
colm and the few Englishmen who had followed
his fortune : for the booty was no sooner obtained
than the Danes retired to their ships, and the
Northumbrians to their habitations. In the mean
time William, having raised a considerable army,
advanced northwards. He first took a severe
revenge upon the Northumbrians ; then reduced
the city of York, and put to death a great number
of the inhabitants ; when, perceiving that dan-
ger was still threatened by the Danes, he bribed
them with a sum of money to depart to their own
country. Malcolm was now left alone to en-
counter this formidable adversary ; and, finding
himself unable to oppose so great a force, with-
drew to his own dominions, where he remained
for some time upon the defensive. His second
invasion took place in 1071, while William was
employed in quelling an insurrection in Wales.
He is said at this time to have behaved with the
greatest cruelty. Bursting into England by Cum-
berland he ravaged Teesdale ; and at a place
called Hundreds-keld massacred several English
noblemen, with all their followers. Thence he
marched to Cleveland, in the north riding of
Yorkshire ; which he also ravaged with the ut-
most cruelty, sending back the booty with part
of the army to Scotland : after which he pillaged
the bishopric of Durham, where he is said not to
have spared the most sacred edifices. Meanwhile
Gospatric, to whom William had again ceded
Northumberland, attempted to make a diversion
in his favor by invading Cumberland ; but, being
defeated by Malcolm, he was obliged to shut
himself up in Bamborough castle ; while the
latter returned in triumph to Scotland, where he
married the princess Margaret, who proved a
most excellent queen. In 1072 William, having
greatly augmented his army, in liis turn invaded
Scotland. The particulars of the war are un-
known; but it ended to the disadvantage of the
Scots, as Malcolm agreed to pay him homage.
The English historians contend that the homage
was for the whole of his dominions ; but the
Scots with more show of reason affirm that it
was only for those he possessed south of the
Tweed. On the conclusion of the peace a cross
was erected at Stanmore in Richmondshire, witli
the arms of both kings, to serve as a boundary
between the possessions of William and the feu-
dal dominions of Malcolm. Part of this monu-
ment, called Re-cross, or rather Roy-cross, or
the cross of the kings, was entire in the days of
Camden. This peace produced the greatest
alteration in the manners of the Scots. What
chiefly contributed to this was the excellent dis-
position of queen Margaret, who was, for that
age, a pattern of piety and politeness : and next
to this was the number of foreigners who had
settled in Scotland ; among whom were some
Frenchmen. Malcolm himself, also, was far
from being averse to a reformation, and even set
the example. During her husband's absence in
England queen Margaret had chosen for her
confessor one Turgot, whom she also made
her assistant in her intended reformation. She
began with new-modelling her own court; into
which she introduced the offices, furniture, and
manner of living, common in the more polite
nations of Europe; dismissing from her service
all who were noted for immorality and impiety.
Turgot she charged, on pain of her displeasure,
to give his real sentiments on the state of the
kingdom, and was ir.tbrmed by him that faction
reigned among the nobles, rapine among the
commons, and licentiousness among all ranks.
Above all, he complained that the kingdom was
destitute of a learned clergy. This the queen
represented to her husband, and prevailed upon
him to set about the work of reformation ; in
which, however, he met with considerable oppo-
sition. The Scots, accustomed to oppress their
inferiors, thought all restrictions of their power
were as many steps towards their slavery. The
introduction of foreign offices and titles confirmed
them in this opinion ; and such a dangerous in-
surrection happened in Moray and some of the
northern counties, that Malcolm was obliged to
march against the rebels. He found them indeed
very formidable ; but they were so much intimi-
dated by his resolution, that they intreated the
clergy who were among them to intercede with
the king. Malcolm received their submission,
but refused to grant an unconditional pardon,
lie gave all the common people indeed leave to
return to their habitations, but obliged the higher
ranks to surrender themselves to his pleasure.
Many of the most guilty were put to daath, or
had their estates confiscated. This severity
checked the rebellious spirit of the Scots ; upon
which Malcolm returned to his plans. Still,
however, he found himself opposed even in those
abuses which were most obvious and glaring,
and durst not entirely abolish many odious cus-
toms. In those days the Scots were without the
practice of saying grace after meals, till it was
introduced by Margaret, who gave a glass of
SCOTLAND.
405
wine to those who remained at the roya! liible
and heard tlie thanksgiving; which gave rise to
the term of the gi \ce-drink. Besides this, the
terms of the duration of Lent and Easter were
fixed ; the king and queen bestowed large alms
on the poor, and the latter washed the feet of six
or their number ; many churches, monasteries,
&c., were erected, and the clerical revenues aug-
mented. In 1077 Malcolm again invaded Eng-
land ; but with what success is not well known,
in 1088, after the death of the conqueror, he
;iL.nin espoused the cause of Edgar Etheling. At
the time of Edgar's arrival Malcolm was at the
head of a brave and well disciplined army, with
which he penetrated a great way into the country
of the enemy ; and, it is said, returned home
with an immense booty. William resolved to
revenge the injury, and prepared great arma-
ments both by sea and land for the invasion of
Scotland. His success, however, was not answer-
able to his preparations. His fleet was dashed
to pieces by storms, and almost all on board
perished. Malcolm had also laid waste the
country through which his antagonist was to
pass, in such an effectual manner that William
lost a great part of his troops by fatigue and
famine ; and, when he arrived in Scotland, found
himself in a situation very little able to resist
Malcolm, who was advancing with a powerful
army. In this distress Rufus had recourse to
Robert de Mowbray earl of Northumberland,
who dissuaded him from venturing a battle, but
advised him by all means to open a negociation
through the English noblemen who resided with
Malcolm. Edgar undertook the negociation, on
condition of his being restored to his estates in
England. Malcolm had never yet recognised
the right of W'illiam Rufus to the throne of Eng-
land, and therefore refused to treat with him as
a sovereign prince ; but offered to enter into a
negociation with his brother Robert, surnamed
Curt-hose, from the shortness of his legs. The
two princes accordingly met ; and Malcolm,
having shown Robert the disposition of his army,
offered to cut off his brother William, and to
pay to him the homage he had been accustomed
to pay to the Conqueror for his English domi-
nions. But Robert generously answered that he
had resigned to William his right of primogeni-
ture in England ; and that he had even become
one of William's subjects by accepting of an
English estate. An interview with William then
followed ; in which it was agreed that the king
of England should restore to Malcolm all his
southern possessions, for which he should pay
the same homage he had been accustomed to do
to the Conqueror, that he should restore to Mal-
colm twelve disputed manors, and give him like-
wise twelve merks of gold yearly, besides
restoring to Edgar all his English estates. This
treaty was concluded in Lothian, according to
the English historians ; but at Leeds in York-
shire, according to the Scots. However William
considered the terms as so very dishonorable that
he resolved not to fulfil them. Soon after his
departure Edgar and Robert began to press him
to fulfil his engagements ; but, receiving only
evasive answers, they passed over into Normandy.
After their departure William applied himself
to the fortification of his northern boundaries,
especially Carlisle, which had been destroyed
by the Danes 200 years before As this place
lay within the feudal dominions of Malcolm, he
complained of William's proceedings as a breach
of the late treaty ; and soon after repaired to the
English court at Gloucester that he might have a
personal interview with the king, and obtain re-
dress. On his arrival William refused him ad-
mittance to his presence without paying him
homage. Malcolm offered this in the same man-
ner as had been done by his predecessors, that is,
on the confines of the two kingdoms ; but, this
being rejected by William, Malcolm returned to
Scotland in a rage, and again prepared for war.
The first of Malcolm's military operations now
proved fatal to him; but the circumstances of
his death are variously related. According to
the Scottish historians, having laid siege to Aln-
wick, he reduced the place to such straits that a
knight came out of the castle, having the keys on
the point of a spear, and, pretending that he de-
signed to lay them at Malcolm's feet, ran him
through the eye with the spear as soon as he came
within reach. Prince Edward, the king's eldest
son, was mortally wounded in attempting to re-
venge his father's death. The English historians,
on the other hand, contend that the Scots were
surprised in their camp, their army entirely de-
feated, and their king killed. On this occasion
the Scottish historians also inform us that the
family of Piercy received its name; the knight
who killed the Scottish king having been sur-
named Pierce-eye, from the manner in which he
gave that monarch the fatal stroke. Queen Mar-
garet, who was at that time lying ill in the castle
of Edinburgh, died four days after her husband.
On the death of Malcolm Canmore, which
happened in the year 1093, the throne was
usurped by his brother, Donald Bane, or Do-
nald VII., who, notwithstanding the great virtues
and glorious achievements of the late king, had
been at the head of a strong party during the
whole of his reign. The usurper, giving way to
the barbarous prejudices of himself and his coun-
trymen, expelled out of the kingdom all the fo-
reigners whom Malcolm had introduced. Edgar
himself had long resided at the English court,
where he was in high reputation ; and, by his
interest there, found means to rescue his nephew
young Edgar, the king of Scotland's eldest son,
out of the hands of the usurper Donald Bane.
The favor he showed to him, however, produced
an accusation against himself, as if he designed
to adopt young Edgar as his son, and set him up
as a pretender to the English throne. This ac-
cusation was preferred by an Englishman whose
name was Orgar ; but, as no legal proofs could
be obtained, the custom of the times rendered a
single combat between the parties unavoidable.
Orgar was one of the strongest and most active
men in the kingdom ; but the age and infirmities
of Edgar allowed him to be defended by ano-
ther. For a long time none could be found who
would enter the lists with this champion ; but at
last one Godwin of Winchester, whose family
had been nnder obligations to Edgar or his an-
cestors, offered to defend his cause. Orgar was
overcome and killed ; and, when dyjng, confess
406
SCOTLAND.
ed the falsehood oJ' nis accusation. The con-
queror obtained all the lands of his adversary,
and William lived ever afterwards on terms of
the strictest friendship with Edgar. This combat,
trifling as it may seem to us, produced very con-
siderable effects. The party of Edgar and his
brothers (who had likewise taken refuge at the
English court) revived in Scotland to such a
degree that Donald was obliged to call in the
Danes and Norwegians to his assistance. In
order to engage them more effectually, the
usurper yielded up to them the Orkney and
Shetland islands ; but, when hio iww allies came
to his assistance, they behaved in such a manner
as to become more intolerable to the Scots than
ever the English had been. This discontent was
greatly increased when it was found that William
designed to place on the throne of Scotland a
natural son of the late Malcolm, named Duncan,
who had served with reputation in the English
armies. Donald attempted to maintain himself
on the throne by the assistance of his Norwegian
allies ; but, being abandoned by the Scots, he
was obliged to fly to the isles, to raise more
forces : in the meantime Duncan II. was crown-
ed at Scone with the usual solemnity. The Scots
were now greatly distressed by two usurpers who
contended for the kingdom. One of them how-
ever was soon despatched. Malpedir, thane of
Mearns, surprised Duncan in the castle of Mon-
teith, and killed him ; after which he replaced
Donald VII. on the throne. But the affection
of the Scots was by this time entirely alienated
from Donald, and a manifest intention of calling
in young Edgar prevailed. To prevent this,
Donald offered the young prince all that part of
Scotland which lay south of the Forth ; but the
terms were rejected, and the messengers who
brought them were put to death as traitors. The
king of England also, dreading the neighbour-
hood of the Norwegians, interposed in young
Edgar's favor, and gave Atheling the command
of an army to restore him. Donald prepared to
oppose his enemies with all the forces he could
raise ; but, deserted by the Scots, he was obliged
to flee; and his enemies pursued him so closely
that he was soon taken. Being brought before
Edgar, he ordered his eyes to be put out, and
condemned him to perpetual banishment, in
which he died some time after. The credulous
historians of this period tell us that this revolu-
tion was owing to St. Cuthbert, who appeared to
Edgar, informing him that he should prove vic-
torious, if he received his banner from the hands
of the canons ; which he accordingly did. Dur-
ing his reign a strict friendship subsisted between
the courts of England and Scotland ; owing to the
marriage of Henry I. of England with the
princess Matilda, sister to Edgar. This has
given occasion to the English historians to assert,
that Edgar held the kingdom rf Scotland as a
feudatory of Henry. A seal has been forged of
Ede^ar sitting on horseback, with a sword in his
right hand, and a shield on his left arm, with a
border of France : this last circumstance is a
sufficient proof of the forgery. After a reign of
nine years, Edgar died at Dundee, in 1107 ; and
was succeeded by his brother Alexander I. sur-
named the Fierce, from the impetuosity of his
temper. On his accession to the throne, how-
ever, the Scots were so ignorant of his true cha-
racter, on account of his appearance of piety and
devotion, that the northern parts of the kingdom
were soon filled with bloodshed, by the wars of
the chieftains. Alexander immediately raised an
army, and, marching into Moray and Ross-shire,
attacked the insurgents separately ; and, having
subdued them all, put great numbers of them to
death. He then set himself to reduce the exor-
bitant power of the nobles. A remarkable in-
stance of this appeared on his return from this
expedition. In passing through the Mearns, he
met with a widow who complained that her hus-
band and son had been put to death by the
young earl their superior. Alexander imme-
diately alighted from his horse, aud swore that
he would not remount him till lie had enquired
into the justice of the complaint; and, finding
it to be true, the offender was hanged on the
spot. These vigorous proceedings prevented all
attempts at rebellion ; but produced many con-
spiracies among the profligate part of his sub-
jects. The most remarkable of these took place
while the king was engaged in building the castle
of Bal-Edgar, so called in memory of his bro-
ther, who had laid the foundation. It was si-
tuated in the Carse of Cowrie, which formerly
belonged to Donald Bane, but came to the
crown, either by donation or forfeiture. The con-
spirators bribed one of the king's chamberlains to
introduce them at night into tl>e royal bed-
chamber; but Alexander, alarmed at the noise,
drew his sword and killed six of them : after
which, by the help of a knight named Alexander
Carron, he escaped the danger, by fleeing into
Fife. The conspirators chiefly resided in the
Mearns, to which Alexander once more repaired,
at the head of an army ; but the rebels retreated
northwards, and crossed the Spey. The kinj
pursued them across that river, defeated them,
and brought to justice all that fell into his hands.
In this battle Carron distinguished himself so
eminently that he obtained the name of Skrim-
geour or Scrimzeour, i. e. skirmisher or fighter.
The next remarkable transaction of Alexander's
reign was his journey into England, where he
visited Henry I., whom he found engaged in a
war with the Welsh. Henry had planted a co-
lony of Flemings on the borders of the princi-
pality, to keep that turbulent people in awe, as
well as to introduce into his kingdom the manu-
factures for which the Flemings were famous.
The Welsh, jealous of this colony, invaded Eng-
land ; where they defeated the earl of Chester
and Gilbert Strongbow, the two most powerful
of the English subjects. Alexander, in virtue of
the fealty which he had sworn for the English
possessions, readily agreed to lead an army into
Wales. There he defeated one of the chieftains,
and reduced him to great straits ; but could not
prevent him from escaping to Griffith, prince of
North Wales, with whom he was closely allied.
Henry also marched against the enemy, but with
much worse success in the field than Alexander;
for he lost two-thirds of his army, with almost his
whole bagu;n>'e, by fatigue, famine, and the at-
tacks of the Welsh. This loss, however, he made
up i; some measure by his policy; for having
SCOTLAND.
407
raised a jealousy between the two Welsh chiefs,
he induced them to conclude a peace, but not
without restoring all his lands to the one, and
paying a considerable sum of money to the
other. Alexander married Sibylla, daughter of
William duke of Normandy ; but died without
issue in 1124, after a reign of seventeen years,
and was buried at Dunfermline.
Alexander, dying a bachelor, was succeeded
by his youngest brother David ; who interfered
in the affairs of England, and took part with the
empress Maud in the civil war she carried on
with Stephen. In 1136 David met his antago-
nist at Durham ; but, as neither party cared to
venture an engagement, a negociation took place,
and a treaty was concluded. This, however, was
not long observed ; for, in 1137, David again in-
vaded England, defeated Stephen at Roxburgh,
and forced him to retreat precipitately, after
losing one-half of his army. Next year he re-
newed his invasion ; and, though he himself was
a man of great mildness and humanity, he suffer-
ed his troops to commit such outrages as firmly
united the English in opposition to him. His
grand nephew William cut in pieces the vanguard
of the English army at Clithero; after which he
ravaged the country with such cruelty that the
inhabitants became exasperated beyond measure
against him. New associations were entered into
against the Scots ; and the English army, receiv-
ing great reinforcements from the southward,
advanced to Northallerton, where the famous
standard was produced. The body of this
standard was a kind of box which moved upon
wheels, from which arose the mast of a ship sur-
mounted by a silver cross, and round it were
hung the banners of St. Peter, St. John de Be-
verly, and St. Wilfred. Standards of this kind
were common at that time on the continent ; and
so great confidence had the English in this
standard that they now thought themselves in-
vincible. They had, however, a much more
solid ground of confidence, as being much better
armed than their antagonists. The armies met
at a place called Culton Moor. The first line of
the Scots army was composed of the inhabitants
of Galloway, Carrie, Kyle, Cunningham, and
Renfrew. These, by some historians, are called
Picts, and are said to have had a prince of their
own, who was a feudatory to David. The second
line consisted of Lothian men, by which we are
to understand the king's subjects in England as
well as the south of Scotland, together with the
English and Normans of Maud's party. The
third line was formed of the clans under their
different chieftains, but who were subject to no
regular command, and were always impatient to
return to their own country when they had ac-
quired any booty. The English soldiers, having
ranged themselves round their standard, dis-
mounted from their horses, to avoid the long
Jances which the first line of the Scottish army
carried. Their front line was intermixed with
archers ; and a body of cavalry, ready for pur-
suit, hovered at some distance. The Picts, besides
their lances, made use of targets ; but, when the
English closed with them, they were soon disor-
dered and driven back upon the centre, where
David commanded in person. His son made a
gallant resistance, but was at last forced to
yield : the last line seems never to have been en-
gaged. David, seeing the victory decided against
him, ordered some of his men to save themselves
by throwing away their badges, which it seems
Maud's party had worn, and mingling with the
English; after which he himself, with his shat-
tered forces, retreated towards Carlisle. The
English historians say that in this battle the
Scots were totally defeated, with the loss of
10,000 men ; but this seems not to be the case,
as the English did not pursue, and the Scots
were in a condition for carrying on the war next
year. However, there were now no great ex-
ploits performed on either side ; and a peace
was concluded, by which Henry, prince of Scot-
land, was put in possession of Huntingdon and
Northumberland, and took an oath of fealty to
Stephen. David built no fewer than fifteen
abbeys : viz. at Holyrood-house, Kelso, Jedburgh,
Melrose, Newbottel, Cambuskenneth, Dundren-
nan, Holm-Cultrane, Kinloss, Dunfermline,
Holme in Cumberland, Carlisle, North Berwick,
and two at Newcastle ; and founded four bishop-
rics. His son prince Henry died before him,
leaving three sons and three daughters. David,
called also, from his piety, St. David, continued
faithful to his niece the empress as long he lived;
and died at Carlisle in 1153, after a glorious
reign of above twenty-nine years.
David was succeeded by his grandson Malcolm
IV., surnamed the Maiden, on account of his
continence. He suppressed several rebellions,
banished many of the turbulent Murrays, built
the abbeys of St. Andrew's and Cupar in Angus,
and died at Jedburgh, in the twelfth year of his
reign, A. D. 1165. He was succeeded by his
brother William I., surnamed the Lion, who im-
mediately entered into a war with Henry II. of
England, on account of the earldom of Northum-
berland, which had been given up by Malcolm;
but Henry, finding his affairs in a very embar-
rassed situation, consented to yield up this
county on William's paying him homage, rather
than continue the miseries of war. In 1172 he
attempted to avail himself of tne unnatural war
which Henry's sons carried on against their
father, and invaded England. He divided his
army into three columns ; the first of which laid
siege to Carlisle ; the second he himself led into
Northumberland ; and the king's brother, David,
advanced with the third into Leicestershire. Wil-
liam reduced the castles of Burgh, Appleby,
Warkworth, and Garby, and then joined that
division of his army which was besieging Carlisle.
The place was already reduced to such straits
that the governor had agreed to surrender it by a
certain day, provided it was not relieved before
that time; on which the king, leaving some
troops to continue the siege, invested a castle
with some of the forces he had under his com-
mand, at the same time sending a strong rein-
forcement to his brother David ; by which means
he himself was left with a very small army, when
he received intelligence that a strong body of
English under Robert de Stuterville and his son
were advancing to surprise him. William, sen-
sible of his inability to resist them, retired to
Alnwick, to which he instantly laid siege; but
408
SCOTLAND.
acted in such a careless manner that his enemies,
having dressed a party of their soldiers in Scot-
tish habits, took him prisoner, and carried him,
with his feet tied under the belly of a horse, to
Richmond Castle. He was then carried in
chains before Henry to Northampton, and or-
dered to be transported to the castle of Falaise in
Normandy, where he was shut up with other
state prisoners. Soon after this an accommoda-
tion took place between Henry and his sons, and
the prisoners on both sides were set at liberty,
William only excepted, who bore his confinement
with great impatience. Of this Henry took the
advantage, to make him pay homage for the
whole kingdom of Scotland, and acknowledge
that he held it only as a feu of the crown of Eng-
land ; and, as a security, he was obliged to de-
liver into the hands of Henry all the principal
forts in Scotland : viz. the castles of Roxburgh,
Berwick, Jedburgh, Edinburgh and Stirling;
William at the same time agreeing to pay the
English garrisons which were put into these
castles. David, the king's brother, and twenty
barons, who were present at the signing of this
shameful convention, were put into the hands of
Henry as hostages for William's good faith ; after
which the king was set at liberty, and returned to
Scotland. The affairs of Scotland were now in
the greatest confusion. The people of Galloway,
at the head of whom were two princes, called
Othred and Gilbert, had taken the opportunity
of asserting their independency on the crown of
Scotland ; and, having expelled all the Scottish
officers out of the country, they demolished the
forts which William had erected, and put to
death all the foreigners. But, a quarrel ensuing
between them, Othred was murdered by Gilbert,
who applied to Henry for protection. Henry, to
give all possible sanction to the convention be-
twixt him and William, summoned him to meet
him and his son at York. William obeyed the
summons, and along with him appeared all the
great nobility and landholders; who confirmed
the convention of Falaise, swore fealty to Henry,
and put themselves and their country under his
protection. In the mean time Gilbert, who was
at the head of the rebels in Galloway, had of-
fered to put himself and bis people under the
protection of Heury, and to pay to him '2000
merks of silver yearly, with 500 cows and as
many hogs ; but Henry, that he might oblige his
new feudatory William, refused to have any con-
cern with Gilbert. On this William ordered his
general Gilchrist to march against him ; which he
did with such success that Gilbert was entirely
defeated, and Galloway again reduced under the
dominion of Scotland. Very soon after this vic-
tory Gilchrist fell under the king's displeasure on
the following occasion : He had married Matilda,
sister to William ; and, on suspicion or proof of
her incontinence, put her to death at a village
called Maynes, near Dundee. The king, being
highly displeased at such a gross affront to him-
self, summoned Gilchrist to take his trial for the
murder; hut, as the general did not choose to
make his appearance, his estates were confiscated,
his castles demolished, and himself banished. He
took refuge in England ; but as it had been agreed
in the convention between William and Henry
that the one should not harbour the traitorous
subjects of the other, Gilchrist was forced to
return to Scotland with his two sons. There
they were exposed to all the miseries of indi-
gence, and in perpetual fear of being discovered,
so that they were obliged to skulk from place to
place. William, on his return from an expedi-
tion against a usurper whom he had defeated,
observed three strangers, who, though disguised
like rustics, appeared to be above the vulgar rank.
William was confirmed in this apprehension by
seeing them strike out of the high road, and en-
deavour to avoid notice. He ordered them to be
seized and brought before him. The oldest, who
was Gilchrist himself, fell upon his knees before
him, and gave such a detail of his misfortunes, as
drew tears from the eyes of all present ; and the
king restored him to his former honors and es-
tates. From the family of this Gilchrist that of
the Ogilvies is descended. The Scots continued
in subjection to the English until the accession of
Richard I. This monarch, being a man of ro-
mantic valor, zealously undertook an expedition
into the Holy Laud against the Turks. That he
might secure the quiet of his dominions in his
absence, he determined to make the king of Scot-
land his friend ; and, for this purpose, bethought
nothing could be more acceptable than releasing
him and his subjects from that subjection which
even the English themselves considered as unjust.
However, he determined not to lose this oppor-
tunity of supplying himself with a sum of money,
which was absolutely necessary in such an ex-
pensive and dangerous undertaking. He there-
fore made William pay him 10,000 merks for this
release ; after which he entered into a convention,
which is still extant, acknowledging that ' all
the conventions and acts of submission from
William to the crown of England had been ex-
torted from him by unprecedented writings and
duresse.' This transaction happened in 1189.
The generosity of Richard met with a grateful
return from William; for when Richard was
imprisoned by the emperor of Germany in his
return from the Holy Land, the king of Scotland
sent an army to assist his regency against his re-
bellious brother John, who had wickedly usurped
the throne of England. For this Richard owned
bis obligation in the highest degree; and the two
monarcbs continued in friendship as long as
Richard lived. Some differences happened with
king John about the possession of" Northumber-
land and other northern counties; but these were
all finally adjusted, to the mutual satisfaction of
both parties ; and William continued a faithful
ally of the English monarch till his death, which
happened in 1214, after a reign of forty-nine
years.
William was succeeded by his son Alexander
II., a youth of sixteen. He revived his claim to
Northumberland and the other northern counties
of England ; but John, supposing that he had
now thoroughly subdued the English, not only
refused to consider the demands of Alexander,
but made preparations for invading Scotland.
John had given all the country between Scotland
and the river Tees to Hugh de Baliol and another
nobleman, upon condition of their defending it
against the Scots. Alexander f»'ll upon Nor-
SCOTLAND-
409
thumberland, which he easily reduced, while John
invaded Scotland. Alexander retired to Mel-
rose to defend his own country ; upon which
John burnt the towns of Wark, Alnwick, and
Morpeth, and took the strong castles of Roxburgh
and Berwick. He next plundered the abbey of
Coldingham, reduced Dunbar and Haddington,
ravaging the country as he passed along. His
next operation was directed against Edinburgh ;
but, being opposed by Alexander at the head of
an army, he precipitately marched back. Alex-
ander pursued, and John, to cover his retreat,
burnt the towns of Berwick and Coldingham.
In this retreat John set his men an example of
barbarity, by setting fire every morning to the
house in which he had lodged the preceding
night. In short, such desolation did he spread
all around him, that Alexander found it impos-
sible to continue his pursuit; for which reason
lie marched west%vard, and invaded England by
the way of Carlisle. This town he took and for-
tified ; after which he marched south as far as
Richmond, receiving homage from all the great
oarons as he went along. At Richmond he was
again stopped by John's ravages, and obliged to
return through Westmoreland to his own domi-
nions. When the English barons found it neces-
sary to put themselves under the protection of
Louis, son to the king of France, that prince,
among other acts of sovereignty, summoned
Alexander to do him homage ; but the latter,
being then engaged in the siege of Carlisle, which
had fallen into the hands of king John, could not
attend. In a short time Alexander found him-
self obliged to abandon this enterprise; after
which he laid siege to Barnard castle; but, being
baffled here also, marched southwards through
the whole kingdom of England, and met Louis
at London or Dover, where the prince confirmed
to him the rights to Northumberland, Cumber-
land, and Westmoreland. He continued a faith-
ful ally to Louis and the barons in their wars
with John; and in 1216 brought a fresh army to
their assistance, when their affairs were almost
desperate. This once more turned the scale
against John ; but, he soon after dying, the Eng-
lish easily became reconciled to the government
of Henry III., and the party of Louis dwindled
every day, till at last he was obliged to drop all
thoughts of being king of England. As long as
Louis continued in England, Alexander proved
faithful to his* interest ; but in 1217 he was on
such good terms with Henry as to demand his
eldest sister, the princess Jane or Joan, for a
wife. His request was granted, and in 1221 he
espoused the princess, while his eldest sister
Margery was married to Hubert de Burgh, jus-
ticiary of England, and his second sister to
Gilbert earl marshal, the two greatest subjects in
England. As long as the queen of Scotland
lived, a perfect harmony subsisted between the
Scots and English ; but in 1239 queen Joan died
without children, and Alexander soon after mar-
ried Mary, the daughter of Egelrand de Courcy,
a young and beautiful French lady, by whom he
had a son named Alexander, in 1241. From
this time a coolness took place between the two
courts, and many differences arose ; but no hos-
tilities were commenced on either side during the
life of Alexander, who died in 1249, in the thirty-
fifth year of his reign.
Immediately after the death of his father,
Alexander III. took possession of the throne.
He is the first of the Scottish kings of whose
coronation we have any particular account. The
ceremony was performed by the bishop of St.
Andrew's, who girded the king with a military
belt, probably as an emblem of his temporal juris-
diction. He then explained in Latin, and after-
wards in Gaelic, the laws and oaths relating to
the kingdom ; and the monarch received them
all with great appearance of joy, as he also did
the benediction and ceremony of coronation.
After the ceremony was performed, a Highlander
repeated on his knees before the ' throne, in
Gaelic, the genealogy of Alexander and his an-
cestors, up to Fergus I., or perhaps Gathelus.
In 1250 the king, though only ten years of age,
was married to the daughter of Henry, who now
thought it a proper opportunity to cause him to
do homage for the whole kingdom of Scotland.
But Alexander, notwithstanding his youth, re-
plied with great sense and modesty that his
business in England was matrimony ; that he had
come thither under Henry's protection and invi-
tation ; and that he was no way prepared to
answer such a difficult question. Henry seems
to have been encouraged to make this attempt by
the distracted state of the Scottish affairs at that
time ; for, during the minority of the king, the
nobility threw every thing into confusion by their
dissensions. The Cummins were now become
exceedingly powerful; and Alexander II. is
blamed by Buchanan for allowing them to obtain
such an exorbitant degree of power, by which
they were enabled almost to .shake the founda-
tions of government. Though the king had r -
fused to do the homage required of him, they
imagined that Henry's influence was now too
great ; and, fearing bad consequences to them-
selves, they withdrew from York, leaving Henry
in full possession of his son-in-law's person
Henry, however, to show that he deserved all the
confidence which could be reposed in him, pub-
licly declared, that he dropped all claim of su-
periority with regard to the crown of Scotland,
and that he would ever afterwards act as the
father and guardian of his son-in-law ; confirm-
ing his assurances by a charter. Yet, when
Alexander returned to Scotland, he found they
had made a strong party against his English
connexions. They now exclaimed that Scot-
land was no better than a province of England ;
and, having gained almost all the nobility over to
this opinion, they kept the king and queen an
state prisoners in the castle of Edinburgh. Henry
got intelligence of these proceedings; and his
queen privately sent a physician whom she could
trust, to enquire into her daughter's situation.
Having got admittance into the young queen's
presence, she gave him a most lamentable account
of her situation. She said that the place of their
confinement was very unwholesome, in conse-
quence of which their health was in imminent
danger; and that they had no concern in the
affairs of government. Historians inform us
that the Cummins usurped the whole power of
the state. Henry did not well know how to act.
410
SCOTLAND.
If he proceeded at once to v'olent measures, he
was afraid of the lives of his daughter and son-
in-law; and, on the other hand, by a more
cautious conduct, he left them exposed to the
wicked attempts of those who kept them in
thraldom, some of whom, he knew, had designs
on the crown. By advice of the Scottisli roy-
alists, among whom were the earls of Dunbar,
Fife, Stratherne, Carrick, and Robert Bruce,
Henry assembled his military tenants at York,
whence he himself advanced to Newcastle, where
he published a manifesto, disclaiming all designs
against the peace or independency of Scotland ;
declaring that the forces which had been col-
lected at York were designed to maintain both;
and that all he meant was to hare an interview
with the king and queen upon the borders. From
Newcastle he proceeded to Wark, where he pri-
vately despatched the earl of Gloucester, with
his favorite John Mansel, and a train of trusty
followers, lo gain admission into the castle of
Edinburgh, which was then held by John Baliol
and Robert Ross, noblemen of great influence
both in England and Scotland. The earl and
Mansel gained admittance into the castle, in dis-
guise, on pretence of their being tenants to Baliol
and Ross ; and their followers obtained access on
the same account, without suspicion, till they
were sufficiently numerous to have mastered the
garrison, had they met with resistance. The queen
immediately informed them of the thraldom and
tyranny in which she had been kept ; and among
other things declared that she was still a virgin,
as her jailors obliged her to sleep separate from
her husband. The English, being masters of the
castle, ordered a bed to be prepared that very
night for the king and queen ; and Henry, hear-
ing of the success of his party, sent a safe con-
duct for the royal pair to meet him at Alnwick.
Robert Ross was summoned by Henry to answer
for his conduct ; but, throwing himself at the
king's feet, he was punished only by the seques-
tration of his estate, as was John Baliol, by a
heavy fine, which the king of England reserved
entirely to his own use. Alexander and his queen
were attended to Alnwick by the heads of their
party ; aud when they arrived it was agreed that
Henry should act as his son-in-law's guardian ;
in consequence of which several regulations
were made to suppress the exorbitant power
of the Cummins. That ambitious family, how-
ever, were all this time privately strengthen-
ing their party in Scotland, though they out-
wardly appeared satisfied with the arrangements
made. This rendered Alsxander secure ; so that,
being off his guard, he was surprised when asleep
in the castle of Kinross, by the earl of Menteith,
who carried him to Stirling. The Cummins were
joined in this treason by Sir Hugh Abernethy, Sir
David Lochore, and Sir Hugh Barclay ; and, in
the mean time, the whole nation was thrown into
the utmost confusion. The great seal was forcibly
taken from Robert Stuterville, substitute to the
chancellor the bishop of Dunkeld ; the estates of
the royalists were plundered ; and even the
churches were not spared. The king at last was
delivered by the death of the earl of Monteith,
who is said to have been poisoned by his wife
to gratify her passion for a young English gentle-
man named John Russel. The earl died at a
juncture very critical for Scotland, and his death
disconcerted all the schemes of his party, which
never aftervards could make head against the
royalists. Alexander, being thus restored to the
exercise of regal authority, acted with great wi«-
dom and moderation. He pardoned the Cum-
mins and their adherents, upon their submitting
to his authority ; after which he applied him-
self to the regulation of his other affairs ; but a
storm was now ready to break upon him from
another quarter. The usurper Donald Bane,
brother to Malcolm Canmore, had engaged to de-
liver up the isles of Orkney and Shetland to the
king of Norway, for assisting him in making
good his pretensions to the crown of Scotland.
Haquin, the king of Norway, at this time alleged
that these engagements extended to the deliver-
ing up the islands of Bute, Arran, and others in
the Frith of Clyde, as belonging to the Western
isles ; and, as Alexander would not comply with
these demands, Haquin appeared with a fleet of
160 sail, having on board 20,000 troops, who
landed and took the castle of Ayr. Alexander
immediately despatched ambassadors to treat
with Haquin ; but the latter, flushed with suc-
cess, would hearken to no terms. He made
himself master of the isles of Bute and Arran ;
after which he passed over to Cunningham.
Alexander divided his army into three bodies :
The first was commanded by Alexander, high
steward of Scotland (the great grandfather of
Robert II.), and consisted of the Argyle, Athol,
Lenox, and Galloway men. The second was
composed of the inhabitants of Lothian, Fife,
Merse, Berwick, and Sterling, under Patrick earl
of Dunbar. The king himself led the centre,
which consisted of the inhabitants of Perthshire,
Angus, Mearns, and the northern counties. Ha-
quin, who was an excellent commander, disposed
his men in order of battle, and the engagement
began at a place called Largs. Both parties
fought with great resolution ; but at last the Nor-
wegians were defeated with dreadful slaughter,
no fewer than 16,000 of them being killed on the
spot. The remainder escaped to their ships;
which were so completely wrecked, the day
after, that Haquin could scarcely find a vessel to
carry him with a few friends to Orkney, where he
soon after died of grief. In consequence of this
victory, Owen king of the Isle of Man sub-
mitted to Alexander ; and his example was fol-
lowed by several other princes of the Norwegians.
Haquin's son, Magnus, a wise and learned
prince, soon after arrived in Scotland with fresh
reinforcements, and proposed a treaty ; but
Alexander, instead of listening to an accommo-
dation, sent the earls of Buchan and Murray,
with Alan the chamberlain, and a considerable
body of men to the Western Islands, where they
put to the sword some of the inhabitants, and
hanged their chiefs for having encouraged the
Norwegian invasion. In the mean time Magnus
returned to Norway : where a treaty was at last
concluded between him and Alexander. By this
Magnus renounced all right to the contested
islands ; Alexander at the same time consenting
to pay him 1000 merks of silver in the space of
two years, and 100 yearly ever after, as an ac-
SCOTLAND.
411
knowledgment for these islands. To cement the
friendship more firmly, a marriage was concluded
between Margaret the daughter of Alexander, and
Eric the son and heir of Magnus, who was also a
child ; and, some years after, when the parties
were of proper age, the marriage was consum-
mated. From tliis time to the accession of Ed-
ward I. of England, we find nothing remarkable
in the history of Scotland. That prince, how-
ever, proved a more cruel enemy to this country
than it had ever experienced. Alexander was
present at the coronation of Edward, who was
then newly arrived from the Holy Land, where
he had been on a crusade. Soon after this
Alexander paid him homage for his English es-
tates; particularly for the lands and lordship of
Penrith and others, which Henry had given him
along with his daughter. He proved an excel-
lent ally to Edward in his wars against the
French ; and the latter passed the charter by
which he acknowledged that the services of the
king of Scotland in those wars were not in con-
sequence of his holding lands in England, but
as an ally to his crown. Even at this time,
however, Edward had formed a design on the
liberties of Scotland ; for, in the charter just
mentioned, he inserted a salvo, acknowledging
the superiority by which he reserved his right to
the homage of the king of Scotland, when it
should be claimed by him or his heirs. The
bishop of Norwich suggested this salvo : and
this was the reason why Alexander would not
perform the homage in person, but left it to
be performed by Robert Bruce earl of Carrick ;
Alexander standing by, and expressly declaring
that it was only paid for the lands he held in
England. No acts of hostility, however, took
place during the life of Alexander, who was
killed on the 19th of March, 1285, in the forty-
fifth year of his age, by his horse rushing down
the black rock near Kinghorn as he was hunting.
IV. HISTORY OF SCOTLAND TO THE DEATH OF
JAMES V. — Both before and after the death of
Alexander, the great subjects of Scotland
seemed to have been sensible of Edward's am-
bitious designs. On the marriage of Margaret
with Eric prince of Norway, the states of Scot-
land passed an act obliging themselves to receive
her and her heirs as queen and sovereigns of Scot-
land. Edward at that time was in no condition
to oppose this measure, in which the Scots were
unanimous; and therefore contented himself
with forming factions among the leading men of
the country. Under pretence of resuming the
cross, he renewed his intrigues at the court of
Rome, and demanded leave from the pope to
collect the tenths in Scotland ; but his holiness
replied that he could make no such grant with-
out the consent of the government of Scotland.
On the death of Margaret, queen of Norway, her
daughter, in consequence of the act above-men-
tioned, was recognised by the states as queen of
Scotland. As she was then but two years old,
they came to the resolution of excluding from all
share in the government, not only Edward I.
but their queen's father ; and they accordingly
established a regency from among their own
number, consisting of the six following noble-
men ; viz. Robert Wishart bishop of Glasgow,
Sir James Cummin of Badenoch, senior, James
lord high steward of Scotland, who were to have
the superintendancy of all that part of Scot-
land which lies south of the Forth ; William
Fraser bishop of St. Andrew's, Duncan M'DufF
earl of Fife, and Alexander Cummin earl of Bu-
chan, who were to hare the direction of all
affairs north of that river. With these arrange-
ments Eric was exceedingly displeased, as con-
sidering himself as the only rightful guardian of
his own child. He therefore cultivated a good
correspondence with Edward, from whom he
had received considerable pecuniary favors ;
and, perceiving that the states of Scotland were
unanimous in excluding all foreigners from the
management of their concerns, he fell in with
the views of the king of England, and named
commissioners to treat with those of Edward upon
the Scottish affairs. These negotiations terminated
in a treaty of marriage between the queen of
Scotland and Edward prince of Wales, young
as they both were. This alarmed the states of
Scotland, who resolved not to suffer their queen
to be disposed of without their consent. It was
therefore agreed by the commissioners on both
sides, to acquaint them with the result of their
conference, and to demand that a deputation
should be sent up for settling the regency of
Scotland, or, in other words, for putting the so-
vereign power into the hands of the two kings.
As the two parties, however, were within the
prohibited degrees of consanguinity, being first
cousins, a dispensation was applied for to pope
Boniface, who granted it on the condition that
the peers of Scotland consented to the match.
Though the Scottish nobility were very much
against this match, they could not refuse their
consent to it when proposed by the father and
grand-uncle of their young queen. They there-
fore appointed the bishops of St. Andrew's and
Glasgow, with Robert Bruce lord of Annandale,
and John Cummin, to attend as their deputies,
but with a salvo to all the liberties and honors of
the realm of Scotland ; to which Edward agreed.
These deputies met at Salisbury with those of
England and Norway ; and it was at last agreed,
1. That the young queen should be sent from
Norway (free of all marriage engagements) into
England or Scotland. 2. That if the queen
came to England she should be at liberty to re-
pair to Scotland as soon as the distractions of
that kingdom should he settled : that she should,
on her arrival in her own dominions, be free of
all matrimonial contracts ; but that the Scots
should engage not to dispose of her in marriage
without her father's or Edward's consent. 3. The
Scottish deputies promised to give such security
as the Norwegian commissioners should require,
that the tranquillity of the nation should be set-
tled before her arrival. 4. That the commissioners
of Scotland and Norway, joined with commis-
sioners from England, should remove such re-
gents and officers of state in Scotland as should
be suspected of disaffection, and place others in
their stead. If the Scott.sh and Norwegian com-
missioners should disagree on that or any other
head relating to the government of Scotland, the
decision was to be left to the arbitration of Enar-
lish commissioners. The party of Edward was
412
SCOTLAND.
now so strong in Scotland that no opposition
was made to the late agreement, in a parliament
held at Brechin to deliberate upon the settle-
ment of the kingdom. It is uncertain whether
he communicated in form to the Scottish parlia-
ment the pope's dispensation for the marriage ;
but they highly approved of it upon certain con-
ditions to which Edward was previously to
agree ; but the latter, without waiting to perform
any condition, immediately sent for the young
queen from Norway. This exceedingly displeased
Eric, who was not inclined to put his daughter
into the hands of a prince whose sincerity he
suspected, and therefore shifted off the depar-
ture of the princess till he should hear farther
from Scotland. Edward, alarmed at this, had
again recourse to negociation ; and ten articles
were at last drawn up, in which the Scots took
all imaginable precautions for the safety and in-
dependency of their country. These articles
were ratified by Edward on the 28th of August,
1289; yet, even after the affair of the marriage
was fully settled, he lost no time in procuring as
strong a party as he could. At the head of these
were the bishop of St. Andrew's and John
Baliol. That prelate, while he was in England,
was highly caressed by Edward, from whom he
had great expectations of preferment ; and Ba-
liol, having great estates in England, considered
the latter as his sovereign. The bishop, on his
return to Scotland, acted as a spy for Edward,
and carried on with him a secret correspon-
dence, informing him of all public transactions.
It appears from this correspondence that the
Scots were far from being unanimous as to the
marriage. Bruce earl of Annandale suspected
that the young queen was dead ; and, soon after
Michaelmas 1290, assembled a body of forces,
and was joined by the earl of Mar and Athol.
Intelligence of these commotions was carried to
Edward by Baliol ; and the bishop of St. An-
drew's advised Edward, in case the report of the
queen's deatli should prove true, to march a body
of troops towards Scotland, to secure such a
successor as he thought proper. Edward, in the
mean time, consented to allow ambassadors to
be sent from Scotland to bring over the young
queen ; previous to which he appointed the
bishop of Durham to be lieutenant in Scotland
for the queen and her future husband ; and all
the officers there, both civil and military, obliged
themselves to surrender their employments and
fortresses to the king and queen (that is, to Ed-
ward) immediately on their arrival in Scotland.
But, while the most magnificent preparations
were making for the reception of the young
queen, certain intelligence of her death was re-
ceived.
The Scots were thrown into the utmost conster-
nation by the news of their queen's death ; while
Edward was as well prepared as if he had known
what was to happen. The state of Scotland at
this time indeed was to the last degree deplor-
able. The act of succession established by the
late king had no farther operation, being deter-
mined by the death of the queen ; and, since the
crown was rendered hereditary, there was no
precedent by which it could be settled. The
Scots, in general, however, turned their eyes
upon the posterity of David earl of Huntingdon,
brother to the two kings, Malcolm IV. and Wil-
liam I., both of whom died without lawful issue.
The earl had three daughters ; Margaret, the
eldest, was married to Alan lord of Galloway ;
the only issue of which marriage was Dervegi),
wife to John Baliol, who had a son John, a
competitor for the crown. The second daughter,
Isabella, was married to Robert Bruce; and
their son Robert was a candidate likewise. The
third daughter, Ada, had been married to Henry
Hastings, an English nobleman. John Hast-
ings, the son of this marriage, was a third com-
petitor ; but, as his claim was confessedly the
worst of the three, he only put in for a third of
the kingdom, on the principle that his mother
was joint-heir with her two sisters. Several
other claimants now started up. Florence earl
of Holland pretended to the crown, in right of
his great-grandmother Ada, the eldest lawful sister
of king William ; as did Robert de Pynkeny,
in the right also of his great-grandmother Mar-
jory, second sister of king William. Six other
claimants appeared, very absurdly founding
upon their descent from bastards of king Wil-
liam and Alexander II. and III. John Cummin
lord of Badenoch derived his claim from a more
remote source, viz. Donald Bane, who usurped
the crown about 200 years before this time ; but
he was willing to resign in favor of John Baliol.
The latter indeed had surely the best right ; and,
had the succession been regulated as it now is
in all hereditary kingdoms, he would undoubt-
edly have carried it. Bruce and Hastings, how-
ever, pleaded that they were preferable, not only
to John Baliol the grandchild of Margaret, but
also to Dervegil her daughter and his mother,
for the following reason : Dervegil and they
were equally related to their grandfather earl
David : she was indeed the daughter of his eldest
daughter ; but she was a woman, they were men ;
and the male in the same degree ought to suc-
ceed to sovereignties, in their own nature impar-
tible, preferably to the female. Notwithstanding
this number of candidates, however, it was soon
perceived that the claims of all of them might
be cut off, excepting two, viz. Baliol and Bruce,
of whom the former had the preference with
respect to hereditary right, and the latter as to
popularity. Baliol had strongly attached him-
self to Edward's party ; which, being by far the
most powerful in Scotland, gave him a decided
superiority over Bruce. The event was that
Edward, by his own party most probably, was
appointed to decide between the two compe-
titors. It soon appeared, however, that Edward
had no mind to adjudge the crown to any person
but himself; for, in an assembly held at Norham
on the 10th of May 1291, Brabanzon the chief
justice of England informed the members : ' That
his master was come thither in consideration of
the state of the realm of Scotland, which was
then without a king, to meet them, as direct so-
vereign of that kingdom, to do justice to the
claimants of his crown, and to establish a solid
tranquillity among his people ; that it was not
his intention to retard justice, nor to usurp the
riqht of any body, or to infringe the liberties of
the kingdom of Scotland, but to render to every
SCOTLAND.
413
one his due. And, to the end this might be done
with the more ease, he required the assent of
the states ex abundante, and that they should
own him as direct sovereign of the kingdom ;
offering, upon that condition, to make use of
their counsels to do what justice demanded.'
The deputies were astonished at this declaration,
and replied that they were by no means pre-
pared to decide on Edward's claim of superi-
ority ; but that Edward ought previously to
judge the cause between the two competitors,
and require homage from him whom lie should
choose to be king. Edward gave them till next
day to consider of his demand. Accordingly,
on that day, the assembly was held in Norham
church, where the deputies from Scotland in-
sisted upon giving no answer to Edward's de-
mands, which could be decided only by the
whole community ; representing that numbers of
the noblemen and prelates were absent, and that
they must have time to know their sense of the
affair. On this Edward gave them three weeks ;
which interval he employed in multiplying claim-
ants to the crown, and in flattering each with
hopes, if he would acknowledge his superiority.
But when the assembly met, according to appoint-
ment, on the 2d of June, they found the place
of meeting surrounded by a numerous army of
English. Edward had employed the bishop of
Durham to draw up the historical evidence of
his right to the crown of Scotland ; which has
since been published. In this paper mention is
made of the fealty and homage performed by
the kings of Scotland to the Anglo-Saxon kings
of England ; but no evidence is brought of any
such homage being performed. As to the hom-
age performed by the kings of Scotland, from the
time of William the Conqueror to that of the
dispute between Bruce and Baliol, the Scots
never denied it ; but they contended with jus-
tice that it was performed for the lands held of
the crown of England ; and that it was as far
from any relation to a fealty performed for the
crown of Scotland, as the homage paid by the
English monarchs to the crown of France was
from all relations to the crown of England.
With regard to the homage paid by William to
Henry II., it was not denied that he performed
it for the whole kingdom of Scotland : but they
pleaded that it was void, because it was extorted
when William was a prisoner; and they pro-
duced Richard I.'s charters, which pronounced
it compulsive and iniquitous. But Edward was
by no means disposed to examine into the me-
rits of these arguments. Instead of this, he
closeted the several pretenders to the crown ;
and, having found them all ready to comply with
his measures, he drew up the following charter
of recognition to be signed by them all : ' To
all who shall hear this present letter : We Flo-
rence earl of Holland, Robert de Bruce lord of
Annandale, John Baliol lord of Galloway, John
Hastings lord of Abergavenny, John Cummin
lord of Badenoch, Patrick de Dunbar earl of
March, John Vesci for his father Nicholas Soulis,
and William de Ross, greeting in the Lord :
Whereas we intend to pursue our right to the
kingdom of Scotland; and to declare, challenge,
and aver the same before him that has most
power, jurisdiction, and reason to try it ; and
the noble prince Edward, by the grace of God
king of England, &c., having informed us, by
good and sufficient reasons, that to him belongs
the sovereign seigniory of the same : We there-
fore promise that we will hold firm and stable
his act; and that he shall enjoy the realm to
whom it shall be adjudged before him. In wit-
ness whereof, we have set our seals to this writ-
ing, made and granted at Norham, the Tuesday
after the Ascension, in the year of Grace 1291.'
Edward then declared, by the mouth of his
chancellor, that although, in the dispute which
was arisen between the several claimants, touch-
ing the succession to the kingdom of Scotland,
he acted in quality of sovereign, in order to
render justice to whomsoever it was due ; yet
he did not thereby mean to exclude himself from
that hereditary right which in his own person he
might have to that crown, and which right he in-
tended to assert and improve when he should
think fit: and the king himself repeated this
protestation with his own mouth in French. The
candidates were then severally called upon by
the English chancellor to know whether they
were willing to acknowledge Edward's claim of
superiority over the crown of Scotland, and to
submit to his award in disposing of the same ;
which being answered in the affirmative, they
were then admitted to prove their rights. But
this was mere matter of form ; for all the force
of England was then assembled on the borders
to support the claims of Edward, and nothing
now remained but to furnish him with a suffi
cient pretence for making use of it. Observing
that the Scots were not so unanimous as they
ought to be in recognising his superiority, and
that the submission, which the candidates had
signed, was not sufficient to carry it into exe-
cution, Edward demanded that all the forts in
Scotland should be put into his possession,
that he might resign them to the successful
candidate. Though nothing could be more
shameful than a tame compliance with this last
demand of Edward, the regency of Scotland
without hesitation yielded to it also. Gil-
bert de Umfraville alone, who had the com-
mand of the castles of Dundee and Forfar, re-
fused to deliver them up, until he should be
indemnified by the states, and by Edward him-
self, from all penalties of treason which he might
be in danger of incurring. But, though Edward
had thus got into his hands the whole power of
the nation, he did not think proper to determine
every thing by his own authority. Instead of
this, he appointed commissioners, and promised
to grant letters patent declaring that sentence
should be passed in Scotland. It had been all
along foreseen that the great dispute would be
between Bruce and Baliol ; and, though the plea
of Cummin was judged frivolous, yet he was a
man of too much influence to be neglected, and
he agreed tacitly to resign it in favor of Baliol.
Edward accordingly made him the compliment
of joining him with Baliol in nominating forty
commissioners. Bruce was to name forty more ;
and the names of the eighty were to be given in
to Edward in three days ; after which the king
was to add to them twenty-four of his own
414
SCOTLAND.
choosing. The place and time of meeting were
left in their own option. They unanimously
pitched upon Berwick for the place of meeting ;
but, as they could not agree about the time,
Edward appointed the 2d of August following.
Soon after this the regents resigned their com-
missions to Edward ; but he returned them, with
powers to act in his name ; and nominated the
bishop of Caithness to be chancellor of Scotland ;
joining in the commission with him Walter de
Hemondesham an Englishman, and one of his
own secretaries. Still, however, he met with
great difficulties. Many of his own nobles, par-
ticularly the earl of Gloucester, were by no means
fond of increasing the power of the English mo-
narch by the acquisition of Scotland ; and there-
fore threw such obstacles in his way that he was
again obliged to have recourse to negociation and
intrigue, and at last to delay the meeting until
the 2d of June in 1292 ; but during this interval,
that he might the better reconcile tlie Scots to
the loss of their liberty, he proposed a union of
the two kingdoms ; and for this he issued a writ
by virtue of his superiority. The commissioners
having met on the 2d of June, 1292, ambassadors
from Norway presented themselves in the assem-
bly, demanding that their master should be ad-
mitted into the number of their claimants, as
father and next heir to the late queen. This
demand too was admitted by Edward, after the
ambassadors had acknowledged his superiority
over Scotland ; after which he proposed that the
claims of Bruce and Baliol should be previously
examined, but without prejudice to those of the
other competitors. This being agreed to, he
ordered the commissioners to examine by what
laws they ought to proceed. The discussion of
this question was attended with such difficulty,
and the opinions on it were so various, that Ed-
ward once more adjourned the assembly to the
12th of October following; when the commis-
sioners urged that Edward ought to give justice
conformable to the usage of the two kingdoms ;
but that, if no certain laws or precedents could
be found, he might, by the advice of his great
men, enact a new law. The succession to the
kingdom, they said, might be awarded in the
same manner as to other estates and great baro-
nies. Upon this, Edward ordered Bruce and
Baliol to be called before him, and both of them
urged their respective pleas, and answers, to the
following purpose: Bruce pleaded, 1. That
Alexander II., despairing of heirs of his own
body, had declared that he held him to be the
true heir, and offered to prove by the testimony
of persons still alive that he declared this with
the advice and in the presence of the good men
of his kingdom. Alexander III. also had de-
clared to those with whom he was intimate, that,
failing issue of his own body, Bruce was his right
heir. The people of Scotland had also taken an
oath for maintaining the succession of the nearest
in blood to Alexander III., who ought of ritrht
to inherit, railing Margaret the maiden of Nor-
way and her issue. — Baliol answered that nothing
could be concluded from the acknowledgment
of Alexander II.; for that he left heirs of his
body ; but made no answer to what was said of
the sentiments of Alexander III., and of the oath
made by the Scottish nation to maintain th« suc-
cession. 2. Bruce pleaded that the right o»
reigning ought to be decided according to the
natural law, by which kings reign ; and not ac-
cording to any law or usage in force between
subject and subject : that, by the law of nature,
the nearest collateral in blood has a right to the
crown ; but that the constitutions which prevail
among vassals bind not the lord, much less the
sovereign : that although in private inheritances,
which are divisible, the eldest female heir has a
certain prerogative, it is not so in a kingdom
that is indivisible; there the nearest heir of blood
is preferable whenever the succession opens. —
To this Baliol replied that the claimants were
in the court of their lord paramount ; and that
he onght to give judgment in this case, as in the
case of any other tenements, depending on his
crown, that is, by the common law and usage
of his kingdom, and no other. That, by the laws
and usages of England, the eldest female heir is
preferred in the succession to all inheritances,
indivisible as well as divisible. 3. It was unjed
by Bruce that the manner of succession to the
kingdom of Scotland in former times made for
his claim ; for that the brother, as being nearest
in degree, was wont to be preferred to the son
of the deceased king. Thus, when Kenneth
Macalpin died, his brother Donald was pre-
ferred to his son Constantine, aud this was con-
firmed by several other authentic instances in
the history of Scotland. — Baliol answered that,
if the brother was preferred to the son of the
king, the example proved against Bruce ; for
that the son, not the brother, was the nearest in
degree. He admitted that after the death of
Malcolm III. his brother usurped the throne :
but he contended that the son of Malcolm com-
plained to his liege lord the king of England,
who dispossessed the usurper, and placed the son
of Malcolm on the throne ; that after the death
of that son the brother of Malcolm III. again
usurped the throne; but the king of England
again dispossessed him, and raised Edgar, the
second son of Malcolm, to the sovereignty. 4.
Bruce pleaded the example of other countries,
particularly Spain and Savoy, where the son
of the second daughter excluded the grandson
of the eldest daughter. — Baliol answered that
examples from foreign countries were of no im-
portance ; for that according to the laws of Eng-
land and Scotland, where kings reign by suc-
cession in the direct line, and earls and barons
succeed in like manner, the issue of the younger
sister, although nearer in degree, excludes not
the issue of the eldest sister, although more re-
mote ; but the succession continues in the direct
line. 5. Bruce pleaded that a female ought
not to reign, as being incapable of governing :
that at the death of Alexander III. the mother
of Baliol was alive; and, as she could not reign,
the kingdom devolved upon him, as being the
nearest male heir of the blood royal. But to this
Baliol replied that Bruce's argument was incon-
sistent with his claim : for that, if a female ought
not to reign, Isabella the mother of Bruce ought
not, nor must Bruce himself claim through her
Besides Bruce himself had sworn fealty to a
female, the maiden of Norway. The arguments
being thus stated on both sides, E«lwanl de-
manded an answer from the council a-; to the
SCOTLAND.
415
merits of the competitors. He also put the fol-
lowing question to them : by the laws and
usages of both kingdoms, does the issue of the
eldest sister, though more remote in one degree,
exclude the issue of the second sister, though
nearer in one degree? or ought the nearer in
one degree, issuing from the second sister, to
exclude the more remote in one degree issuing
from the eldest sister ? To this it was answered
unanimously, that by the laws and usages of
both kingdoms, in every heritable succession,
the more remote in one degree, lineally descended
from the eldest sister, was preferable to the
nearer in degree issuing from the second sister.
In consequence of this Bruce was excluded from
the succession; upon which he entered a claim
for one-third of the kingdom : but being baffled
in this also, the kingdom of Scotland being
determined an indivisible fee, Edward ordered
John Baliol to have seisin of Scotland ; with
this caveat, however, ' That this judgment should
not impair his claim to the property of Scot-
land.'
After so many disgraceful and humiliating
concessions on the part of the Scots, John Ba-
liol was crowned king at Scone, on the 30th of
November, 1292 ; and finished the ceremony
by doing homage to the king of England. All
his submissions, however, could not satisfy
Edward, as long as the least shadow of inde-
pendence remained to Scotland. A citizen of
Berwick appealed from a sentence of the Scottish
judges appointed by Edward, in order to carry
his cause into England. But this was opposed
by Baliol, who pleaded a promise made by the
English monarch, that he should ' observe the
laws and usages of Scotland, and not withdraw
any causes from Scotland into his English
courts.' Edward replied, that it belonged to
him to hear the complaints made against his own
ministers ; and concluded with asserting his
right, not only to try Scottish causes in England,
but to summon the king of Scotland, if neces-
sary, to appear before him in person. Baliol
had not spirit to resist ; and therefore signed a
most disgraceful instrument, by which he de-
clared that all the obligations which Edward had
come under were already fulfilled, and therefore
that he discharged them all. Edward now
thought proper to give Baliol some marks of his
favor, the most remarkable of which was the
sovereignty of the Isle of Man ; " but it soon
appeared that he intended to exercise his own
rights in the most provoking manner. Malcolm
earl of Fife had two sons, Colban his heir, and
another who is constantly mentioned in history
by the family name of Macduff. — It is said that
Malcolm put Macduff in possession of the lands
of Reres and Crey. Malcolm died in 1266;
Colban his son in 1270; Duncan the son of
Colban in 1288. To this last earl, his son Dun-
can, an infant, succeeded. During the nonage
of this Duncan, grand-nephew of Macduff, Wil-
liam, bishop of St. Andrew's, guardian of the
earldom, dispossessed Macduff. He complained
to Edward ; who, having ordered his cause to be
tried, restored him again to possession. Matters
were in this state when Baliol held his first par-
liament at Scone, on the 10th of February, 1292,
when Macduff was cited to answer for having
taken possession of the land of Reres and Crey.
As his defences did not satisfy the court, he was
condemned to imprisonment ; but an action was
reserved to him against Duncan, when he should
come of age, and against his heirs. In all his
defence, it is surprising that Macduff should
have omitted his strongest argument, viz. that
the regents, by Edward's authority, had put him
in possession, and that Baliol had ratified all
things under Edward's authority. However, as
soon as he was set at liberty, he petitioned Ba-
liol for a rehearing ; but, this being refused, he
appealed to Edward, who ordered Baliol to ap-
pear before him in person on the 25th of March,
1293 : and, as Baliol did not obey this order, he
summoned him again to appear on the 14th of
October. In the mean time the English par-
liament drew up certain standing orders in
cases of appeal from the king of Scots. One of
these regulations provided, ' that no excuse of
absence should ever be received either from the
appellant, or the king of Scotland respondent ;
but that the parties might have counsel if they
demanded it.' Though Baliol had not the cou-
rage to withstand the second summons of Ed-
ward, he behaved with considerable resolution at
the trial. The cause of Macduff being come on,
Edward asked Baliol what he had to offer in his
own defence; to which he replied, < I am king
of Scotland. To the complaint of Macduff, or
to ought else respecting my kingdom, I dare not
make answer without advice of my people.' — •
Edward affected surprise at this refusal, after the
submissions which Baliol had already made him;
but the latter steadily replied, ' In matters re-
specting my kingdom, I neither dare nor can
answer in this place, without the advice of my
people.' Edward then desired him to ask a far-
ther adjournment, that he might advise with the
nation. But Baliol, perceiving that his doing
so would imply an acquiescence in Edward's
right of requiring his personal attendance on the
English courts, made answer, 'That he would
neither ask a longer day, nor consent to an ad-
journment.'— It was then resolved by the par-
liament of England that the king of Scotland
had offered no defence ; that he had made eva-
sive and disrespectful answers ; and that he was
guilty of manifest contempt of the court. To
make recompense to Macduff for his imprison-
ment, he was ordered damages from the king of
Scots, and it was also determined that Edward
should enquire, according to the usages of the
country, whether Macduff recovered the tene-
ments in question by the judgment of the king's
court, and whether he was dispossessed by the
king of Scots. The three principal castles of
Scotland, with the towns wherein they were
situated, and the royal jurisdiction thereof, were
further ordered to be taken into the custody of
the king, and there remain until the king of Scots
should make satisfaction for his contempt and
disobedience. Before this judgment was pub-
licly intimated, Baliol is said to have addressed
Edward in the following words : — ' My lord, I
am your liege-man for the kingdom of Scotland ;
that whereof you have lately treated respects my
people no less than myself : I therefore pray you
416
SCOTLAND.
to delay it until I have consulted my people,
lest I be surprised through want of advice :
they who are now with me neither will nor dare
advise me in absence of the rest of my kingdom.
After I have advised with them, I will in your
first parliament after Easter report the result, and
do to you what I ought.' In consequence of
this address, Edward, with consent of Macduff,
stopped all proceedings till the day after the
feast of Trinity, 1294. But before this term
Edward was compelled to suspend all his pro-
ceedings by a war which broke out with France.
In a parliament held this year by Edward the
king of Scotland appeared, and consented to
yield up the whole revenues of his English es-
tates for three years to assist Edward against his
enemy. He was also requested and ordered by
Edward to extend an embargo laid upon the
English vessels all over Scotland ; this embargo
to endure until the king of England's further
pleasure should be known. He also requested
him to send some troops for an expedition into
Gascony, and required the presence and aid of
several of the Scottish barons. The Scots, how-
ever, eluded these demands of Edward, by pre-
tending that they could not bring any consider-
able force into the field : and, unable to bear his
tyranny any longer, negociated an alliance with
Philip of France. Having assembled a parlia
ment at Scone, they prevailed upon Baliol to
dismiss all the Englishmen whom he maintained.
They then appointed a committee of twelve, four
bishops, four -earls, and four barons, by whose
advice every thing was to be regulated ; and, if
we may credit the English historians, watched
the conduct of Baliol himself, and detained him
in a kind of honorable captivity. However,
they could not prevent him from delivering up
the castles of Berwick, Roxburgh, and Jedburgh,
to the bishop of Carlisle; in whose custody
they were to remain during the war between
England and France. Notwithstanding this,
Baliol concluded the alliance with Philip ; by
which it was stipulated that the latter should
give in marriage the eldest daughter of the count
of Anjou to Baliol's son ; it was also provided
that Baliol should not marry again without the
consent of Philip. The king of Scotland en-
gaged to assist Philip in his wars at his own
expense, and with his whole power, especially if
Edward invaded France; and Philip on his part
engaged to assist Scotland, in case of an English
invasion. Elated with the hopes of assis-
tance from France, the Scots now invaded Cum-
berland with a large army, and laid siege to
Carlisle. The men abandoned the place ; but the
women mounted the walls, and drove the assail-
ants from the attack. Another incursion into
Northumberland proved almost as disgraceful.
Their whole exploits consisted in burning a nun-
nery at Lamely, and a monastery at Corebridge,
though dedicated to their patron St. Andrew ;
but, having attempted to storm the castle of
Harbottle, they were repulsed with loss. In the
mean time Edward with an army equal in num-
ber to that of the Scots, but much superior on
account of its discipline, invaded the east coast
of Scotland. Berwick had either not been de-
livered according to pro:* ise, or had been re-
sumed by the Scots, and was now defended by a
numerous garrison. Edward assaulted it by sea
and land. The ships which began the attack
were all either burnt or disabled ; but Edward,
having led on his army in person, took the place
by storm, and cruelly butchered the inhabitants,
to the number of 8000, without distinction of
sex or age. In this town there was a building
called the Red-hall, which certain Flemings pos-
sessed by the tenure of defending it at all times
against the king of England. Thirty of these
maintained their ground for a whole day against
the English army ; but at night, the building
being set on fire, all of them perished in the
flames. The same day the castle capitulated ;
the garrison, consisting of 2000 men, marched
out with all the honors of war, after having
sworn never to bear arms against England. In
the mean time, Baliol, by the advice of his par-
liament, solemnly and openly renounced his alle-
giance to Edward, sending the following declara
tion : — 'To the magnificent prince, Edward, by
the grace of God king of England, John, by the
same grace, king of Scotland. Whereas you,
and others of your kingdom, you not l>un.r
ignorant, or having cause of ignorance, by yoinr
violent power, have notoriously and frequently
done grievous and intolerable injuries, con-
tempts, grievances, and strange damages against
us, the liberties of our kingdom, and against
God and justice ; citing us, at your pleasure,
upon every slight suggestion, out of our king-
dom : unduly vexing us ; seizing our castles,
lands, and possessions, in your kingdom ; un-
justly, and for no fault of ours, taking the goods
of our subjects, as well by sea as land, and cur-
rying them into your kingdom ; killing our mer-
chants, and others of our kingdom ; carrying our
subjects and iirjprisoning them : for the reforma-
tion of which things, we sent our messengers to
you, which remain not only unredressed, but
there is every day an addition of worse things to
them ; for now you are come with a great army
upon the borders, for the disinheriting us and
the inhabitants of our kingdom ; and, proceed-
ing, have inhumanly committed slaughter, burn-
ings, and violent invasions, as well by sea as
land : we not being able to sustain the said in-
juries, grievances, and damages any longer, nor
to remain in your fealty or homage, extorted by
your violent oppression, we restore them to you,
for ourself and all the inhabitants of our king-
dom, as well for the lands we hold of you in
your kingdom as for your pretended government
over us.' Edward was presented with this re-
nunciation by the hands of the intrepid Henry,
abbot of Aberbrothwick ; and, as it was favor-
able to his political views, he received it rather
with contempt than anger. ' The foolish traitor,'
said he to the abbot, 'since he will not come to
us, we will go to him.' The abbot had been
persuaded by his enemies, of whom he had
many in Scotland, to present this letter, in hopes
that Edward would have put him to death ; but
he had address enough to escape safe out of his
hands, without receiving any other answer.
Though this scheme of renunciation had been
concerted some time before, declaration was not
sent to Edward till after the taking of Berwick.
SCOTLAND.
41:
The fete of Scotland, however, after it, was soon
decided. The earl of March had taken part
with Edward, but the countess betrayed his
castle of Dunbar into the hands of the Scots.
Edward sent a chosen body of troops to recover
the place. The whole force of Scotland opposed
them on the heights above Dunbar; but leaving
their advantageous post, and pouring down on
their enemies in confusion, they were dispersed
and defeated. The castle of Dunbar surren-
dered at discretion ; that of Roxburgh followed
the same example ; the castle of Edinburgh
surrendered after a short siege; and Stirling was
abandoned. The Scots, in the mean time, were
guilty of the greatest extravagancies. During a
short interval between the loss of Berwick and
(he defeat at Dunbar, an order was made for ex-
pelling all the English ecclesiastics who held
I eneSces in England ; all the partizans of Eng-
land, and all neutrals, were declared traitors, and
ilicir estates confiscated. But the great suc-
cesses of Edward soon put an end to these im-
potent acts of fury. Baliol was obliged to
iir.plore the mercy of the conqueror. Divested
of his royal ornaments, and bearing a white rod
in his hand, he performed a most humiliating
penance ; confessing that by evil and false
counsel, and through his own simplicity, he had
grievously offended his liege lord. He recapitu-
lated his various transgressions, in concluding an
alliance with France, while at enmity with Eng-
land ; in contracting his son with the niece of
the French king ; in renouncing his fealty ; in
attacking the English territories, and in resisting
Edward. He acknowledged the justice of the
English invasion and conquest ; and therefore
he, of his own free consent, resigned Scotland,
its people, and their homage to his liege lord
Edward, 2nd of July 1296.
Edward pursued his conquests, the barons
every where crowding in to swear fealty to
him, and renounce their allegiance with France.
His journey ended at Elgin, whence he re-
turned southward ; and, as an evidence of his
having made an absolute conquest of Scotland,
he carried off from Scone the wooden chair in
which the kings were wont to be crowned.
Some of the charters belonging to the abbey
were carried off, and the seals torn from others.
On the 28th of August, 1296, Edward held a par-
liament at Berwick, where he received the fealty
of the clergy and laity of Scotland. Among
those who professed their allegiance at this par-
liament was Robert Bruce the younger, earl of
Carrick. After this Edward took the most ef-
fectual methods of securing his new conquest.
He ordered the estates of the clergy to be re-
stored ; and, having received the fealty of the
widows of many of the Scottish barons, he put
them in possession of their jointure lands, and
even made a decent provision for the wives of
many of his prisoners. Yet, though in every
thing he behaved with great moderation towards
the Scots, he committed the government of cer-
tain districts, and of the chief castles in the south
of Scotland, to his English subjects, of whose
fidelity and vigilance he thought himself assured.
To conciliate the affections of the clergy, he
granted to the Scottish bishops for ever the pri-
VOL. XIX.
vilege of bequeathing their effects by will, in the
same manner as that privilege was enjoyed by
the archbishops and bishops of England. In
honor of the ' glorious Confessor St Cuthbert,'
he gave to the monks of Durham an annual pen-
sion of £40, payable out of the revenues of Scot-
land. At last, having settled every thing, as he
thought, in tranquillity, he departed for Eng-
land with all the exultation of a conqueror. The
tranquillity established by Edward, however,
was of short duration. The government of
Scotland at that time required many qualities
which his vicegerents possessed not. Warrene,
earl of Surrey, who had been appointed governor,
took up his abode in England, on pretence of
recovering his health. Cressingham, the treasurer,
was avoluptuous, proud, and selfish ecclesiastic ;
while Ormesby, the justiciary, was hated for his
severity. Under these officers the administration
of Edward became more and more feeble ; bands
of robbers infested the highways, and the Eng-
lish government was universally despised. At
this critical moment arose Sir William Wallace,
the hero of the Scottish poets, by whom, indeed,
his real exploits are so much obscured that it i;
difficult to give an authentic relation of them.
He was the younger son of Wallace of Ellerslit,
in the neighbourhood of Paisley. Having been
outlawed for some offence (supposed to have
been the killing of an Englishman), he 'asso-
ciated with a few companions of fortunes equally
desperate. Wallace himself was endowed %\ ith
great strength and courage, and an active and
ambitious spirit ; by his affability, eloquence,
and wisdom, he maintained an authority over
the rude and undisciplined multitudes who
flocked to his standard. In May 1297 he began
to infest the English quarters ; and, being suc-
cessful in his predatory incursions, his party be-
came more numerous, and he was joined by Sir
William Douglas. With their united forces
these two allies attempted to surprise Ormesby
the justiciary, while he held his court at Scone;
but he saved himself by a precipitate flight.
After this the Scots roved over the whole country,
assaulted castles and massacred the English.
Their party was joined by many persons of rank ;
among whom were Robert Wishart bishop of
Glasgow, the Steward of Scotland, and his brother
Alexander de Lindesay, Sir Richard Lund in,
and Sir Andrew Moray of Bothwell. Young
Bruce would have been a vast accession to the
party ; for he possessed all Carrick and Annan-
dale, so that his territories reached from the
frith of Clyde to Sol way ; but the wardens of
the western marches of England suspected his
fidelity, and summoned him to Carlisle. He
obeyed, and made oath on the consecrated host,
and on the sword of Becket, to be faithful and
vigilant in the cause of Edward ; to prove his
sincerity he invaded the estate of Sir William
Douglas, and carried off his wife and children.
However, he instantly repented of what he had
done : ' I trust,' said he, ' that the pope will ab-
solve me from an extorted oath ;' on which he
abandoned Edward, and joined the Scottish
army. All this time Edward was in France,
not in the least suspecting an insurrection among
people whom he imagined he had thoroughly
2 E
418
SCOTLAND.
subdued. As soon as he received the intelligence
he ordered the earl of Surrey to suppress the
rebels; but he, declining the command on ac-
count of his health, resigned it to his nephew,
lord Henry Percy. A great army, some say no
fewer than 40,000 men, was now assembled,
with which Percy marched against the Scots.
He found them encamped at Irvine, with a lake
in their front, and their flanks secured by en-
trenchments, so that they could not be attacked
without the utmost danger. The Scots, however,
ruined every thing by their dissensions. Wallace
was envied on account of his many accomplish-
ments, and his companions began to suggest
that an opposition to the English could only be
productive of farther national destruction. Sir
Richard Lundin, an officer of great rank, openly
formed a hostile party, and went over to Edward
with all his followers. He attempted to justify
his treachery, by saying, ' I will remain no lon-
ger of a party that is at variance with itself.'
Other leaders entered into a negociation with
the English. Bruce, the steward, and his
brother Alexander de Lindesay, and Sir William
Douglas, acknowledged their offences, and made
submissions to Edward. This scandalous treaty
seems to have been negociated by the bishop of
Glasgow, and their recantation is recorded in the
following words : — ' Be it known to all men :
whereas we, with the commons of our country,
did rise in arms against our lord Edward, and
against his peace, in his territories of Scotland
and Galloway, did burn, slay, and commit divers
robberies ; we, therefore, in our own name, and
in the name of all our adherents, agree to make
every reparation and atonement that shall be
required by our sovereign lord ; reserving always
what is contained in a writing which we have
procured from Sir Henry Percy and Sir Robert
Clifford, commanders of the English forces ; at
Irvine, 9th of July, 1297.' To this instrument
was subjoined ' Escrite a Sire Willaume ;' the
meaning of which Lord Hailes supposes to be,
that the barons had notified to Sir William Wal-
lace their having made terms of accommodation
for themselves and their party. Edward ac-
cepted the submission of the Scottish barons who
had been in arms, and granted liberty to those
whom he had jnade prisoners in the course of
the former year, on condition that they should
serve him in his wars against France. The in-
constancy of Bruce, however, was so great that
acknowledgments of submission or oaths of
fealty were not thought sufficiently binding on
him ; for which reason the bishop of Glasgow,
the steward, and Alexander de Lindesay, became
sureties for his loyalty and good behaviour, until
he should deliver his daughter Marjory as an
hostage. Wallace alone refused to be concerned
in these shameful submissions ; and, with a few
resolute followers, resolved to submit to every
calamity rather than give up the liberty of his
country. The barons had undertaken to procure
his submission as well as their own ; but, finding
that to be impossible, the bishop of Glasgow and
Sir William Douglass voluntarily surrendered
themselves prisoners to the English. Edward,
however, ascribed this surrender, not to any
honorable motive but to treachery. He asserted
that Wishart repaired to the castle of Roxburgh
under pretence of yielding himself up, but with
the concealed purpose of forming a conspiracy
to betray that castle to the Scots ; and, in proof
of this, appealed to intercepted letters. On the
other hand, Wallace, ascribing the bishop's con-
duct to traitorous pusillanimity, plundered his
house, and carried off his family captives. Im-
mediately after the defection of the barons at
Irvine, Wallace, with his band of determined
followers, attacked the rear of the English army,
and plundered their baggage; but was obliged
to retire, with the loss of 1000 men. He then
found himself deserted by almost all the men of
eminence and property. His army, however,
increased considerably by the accession of num-
bers of inferior rank, and he again began to act
on the offensive. While he employed himself
in besieging the castle of Dundee, he was in-
formed that the English army approached Stir-
ling. Wallace, having charged the citizens of
Dundee, under the pain of death, to continue the
blockade of the castle, hastened with all his
troops to guard the important passage of the
Forth ; and encamped behind a rising ground in
the neighbourhood of the abbey of Cambusken-
neth. Brian Fitz Allan had been appointed
governor of Scotland by Edward ; but Warrene,
who waited the arrival of his successor, remained
with the army. Imagining that W'allace might
be induced by fair means to lay down his arms,
he despatched two friars to the Scottish camp,
with terms of capitulation, ' Return,' said Wal-
lace, ' and tell your masters, that we came not
here to treat, but to assert our right, and to set
Scotland free. Let them advance, they will find
us prepared.' The English, provoked at this
answer, demanded impatiently to be led on to
battle. Sir Richard Lundin remonstrated against
the absurdity of making a numerous army pass
by a long narrow bridge in presence of the
enemy. He told them that the Scots would
attack them before they could form on the plain
to the north of the bridge, and thus certainly de-
feat them ; at the same time he offered to show
them a ford, which, having crossed with 500 horse
and a chosen detachment of infantry, he pro-
posed to come round upon the rear of the enemy,
and by this diversion facilitate the operations of
the main body. But, this proposal being rejected,
the English army began to pass over; which was
no sooner perceived by Wallace, than he rushed
down upon them, and broke them in a moment.
Cressingham the treasurer was killed, and many
thousands were slain on the field, or drowned in
their flight. The loss of the Scots would have
been inconsiderable, had it not been for that of
Sir Andrew Moray, the intimate friend and com-
panion of Wallace, who was mortally wounded
in the engagement. The Scots are said to have
treated the dead body of Cressingham with the
utmost indignity.
The victory at Stirling was followed by the
surrender of Dundee castle and other praces ot
strength in Scotland ; and at the same time the
Scots took possession of Berwick, which the
English had evacuated. But as a famine now
t»ok place in Scotland by the bad seasons and
miseries of war, Wallace marched with his \\hole
SCOTLAND.
419
army into England, that he might in some mea-
sure relieve the necessities of his countrymen by
plundering the enemy. This expedition lasted
three weeks, during which time the whole
country from Cockermouth and Carlisle to the
Elates of Newcastle was laid waste, with all the
fury of revenge and rapacity ; though Wallace en-
deavoured, as far as possible, to repress the licen-
tiousness of his soldiers. In 1298 Wallace
assumed the title of ' Governor of Scotland,'
in name of king John, and by consent of the
Scottish nation; but in what manner this office
was obtained is now in a great measure un-
known. In a parliament which he convoked at
Perth he was confirmed in his authority; and
under this title he conferred the constabulary of
Dundee on Alexander Scrirageour and his heirs,
on account of his faithful aid in bearing the
royal standard of Scotland. This grant is said to
have been made with the consent and- approba-
tion of the Scottish nobility, 29th March 1298.
From this period, however, we may date the very
great jealousy which took place between Wallace
and the nobles of his party. His elevation
wounded their pride ; his great services re-
proached their inactivity in the public cause;
and thus the counsels of Scotland were per-
plexed with distrust and envy, when almost its
very existence depended on unanimity. In June
1298 Edward, who had all this time been in
Flanders, returned to England, and summoned
the Scottish barons, under pain of rebellion, to
attend him in parliament ; and, on their disobey-
ing his summons, he advanced with his army
towards Scotland. His main force, commanded
by himself, assembled, at Berwick ; but a body of
troops, under the earl of Pembroke, having landed
in the north of Fife, were defeated with great loss
by Wallace, on the 12th of June. The same
month Edward invaded Scotland by the way of
the eastern borders. No place resisted him ex-
cept the castle of Dirleton. After a resolute de-
fence, it surrendered to Anthony Beck, bishop of
Durham. Meanwhile the Scots were assembling
all their strength in the interior part of the
country. Few barons of eminence repaired to
the national standard. They whose names are
recorded, were John Comyn of Badenoch, the
younger; Sir John Stewart of Bonkill, brother to
The Steward ; Sir John Graham of Abercorn ;
and Macduff, the grand uncle of the young earl
of Fife. Robert Bruce again acceded to the
Scottish party ; and with his followers guarded
the important castle of Ayr, which kept the com-
munication open with Galloway, Argyleshire,
and the isles. The aim of Edward was to pene-
trate into the west, and there to terminate the
war. He appointed a fleet, with provisions, to
proceed to the frith of Clyde, and await his ar-
rival in those parts. This precaution was abso-
lutely necessary for the subsistence of his numer-
ous army in a country impoverished and waste.
Waiting for accounts of the arrival of his fleet,
he established his head quarters at Temple-liston,
between Edinburgh and Linlithgow. In the
mean time a dangerous insurrection arose in his
camp. He had bestowed a donative of wine
among his soldiers ; they became intoxicated ; a
national quarrel ensued. In this tumult the
Welsh slew eighteen English tcclesiastics. The
English hoi-semen rode in among the Welsh,
and revenged this outrage with great slaughter :
and the Welsh, in disgust, separated themselves
from the army. It was reported to Edward that
they had mutinied, and gone over to the Scots :
' I care not,' said Edward, dissembling the
danger, ' let my enemies go and join my ene-
mies ; I trust that in one day I shall chastise
them all.' Edward was now placed in most
critical circumstances. As the fleet with pro-
visions had been detained by contrary winds,
he could not venture to advance, neither could
he .subsist any longer in his present quarters.
To retreat would have sullied the glory of his
arms, and exposed him to the obloquy and mur-
murs of a discontented people. Yet he submitted
to this hard necessity : and commanded his army
to return to the eastern borders. At this moment
intelligence arrived that the Scots were advanced
to Falkirk. Edward instantly marched against
them. His army lay that night in the fields.
While Edward slept on the ground, his war-
horse struck him and broke two of his ribs. The
alarm arose that the king was wounded. They
who knew not the cause, repeated the cry, ' The
king is wounded ; there is treason in the camp ;
the enemy is upon us.' Edward mounted on
horseback, and by his presence dispelled the
panic. With a fortitude of spirit superior to
pain, he led on his troops : and at break of day
the Scottish army was descried, forming on a
stony field, at the side of a small eminence, in
the neighbourhood of Falkirk. Wallace ranged
his infantry in four bodies. The archers, com-
manded by Sir John Stewart, were placed in the
intervals. The horse, amounting to no more than
1000, were at some distance in the rear. On the
front of the Scots lay a morass. Having drawn
up his troops in this order, Wallace pleasantly
said, ' Now I have brought you to the ring,
dance according to your skill.' Edward placed
his chief confidence in the numerous and for-
midable body of horsemen whom he had selected
for the Scottish expedition. These he ranged in
three lines. The first was led by Bigot, earl
marshal, and the earls of Hereford and Lincoln ;
the second by the bishop of Durham, having
under him Sir Ralph Basset of Drayton; the
third, intended for a reserve, was led by the
king himself. His infantry probably were drawn
up behind, to support the cavalry, and to annoy
the Scots with their arrows. Bigot, at the head
of the first line, rushed on to the charge. He
was checked by the morass, which in his im-
petuosity he had overlooked. This obliged him
to incline to the solid ground on his left, towards
the right flank of the Scottish army. The bishop
of Durham, who led the second line, inclined to
the right, turned the morass, and advanced
towards ihe left flank of the Scottish array. He
proposed to halt till the reserve should advance.
' To mass, Bishop,' cried Basset, and instantly
charged. The shock of the English cavalry on
each side was violent, and gallantly withstood by
the Scottish infantry ; but the Scottish cavalry,
dismayed at the number and force of the English
men at arms, immediately quitted the field.
Stewart, while giving orders to his archers, was
2 1-. 2
420
SCO T L A N D.
thrown from his horse and slain. His archers
crowded round his body and perished with him.
Often did the English strive to force the Scottish
circle. ' They could not penetrate into that wood
of spears,' as one of their historians speaks. By
repeated charges, the outermost ranks were
brought to the ground. The English infantry
incessantly galled the Scots with showers of
stones and arrows. Macduff and Sir John Gra-
ham fell. At length the Scots were broken by
the numbers and weight of the English cavalry,
and the rout became universal. The number of
the Scots slain in this battle must hare been
very great. As is commonly the case, it is exag-
gerated by the historians of the victors, and re-
duced too low by those of the vanquished. On
the side of the English the loss was inconsider-
able. The only persons of note who fell were
Brian le Jay, master of the English Templars,
and the prior of Torphichen in Scotland, a knight
of another order of religious soldiery. The Scots
in their retreat burnt the town and castle of Stir-
ling. Edward repaired the castle, and made it a
place of arms. He then marched to the west.
At his approach, Bruce burnt the castle of Ayr,
and retired. Edward would have pursued him
into Carrick ; but the want of provisions stopped
his further progress. He turned into Annandale,
took Bruce's castle of Lochmaben, and then de-
parted out of Scotland by the western borders.
Here may be remarked the fatal precipitancy of
the Scots. If they had studied to protract the
campaign, instead of hazarding a general action
at Falkirk, they would have foiled the whole
power of Edward, and reduced him to the neces-
sity of an inglorious retreat. In 1299 Edward
released John Baliol, the unfortunate king of
Scotland, whom he had kept close prisoner ever
since 1296. Before this time Baliol had used
the most disgraceful methods to recover his
liberty. He had solemnly declared that ' he
would never have any intercourse with the Scots ;
that he had found them a false and treacherous
people ; and that he had reason to suspect them
of an intention to poison him.' However, not-
withstanding all his protestations, Edward still
detained him in captivity ; but at last released
him at the mediation of the pope, though after a
singular form. He ordered the governor of Dover
to convey him to the French coast, and there to
deliver him to the papal nuncio, ' with full power
to the pope to dispose of Baliol and his English
estate.' In consequence of which he was con-
veyed to Witsand, delivered to the nuncio in
presence of a notary and witnesses, and a receipt
taken for his person. Notwithstanding this ab-
ject state, however, the Scots continued to own
him for their king, and to assert their national
independency : and, though the misfortune at
Falkirk had deprived them of a very considerable
extent of territory, they were still in possession
of the whole country beyond the Forth, as well
as the county of Galloway.
By general consent William Lamberton, arch-
bishop of St. Andrew's, Robert Bruce earl of
Carrick, and John Cummin the younger, were
chosen guardians of Scotland in the name of
Baliol. Wallace at this time was reduced to the
condition of a private man ; nor had he any longer
the command of the Scots armies, nor any share
in their councils. The new guardians undertook
to reduce the castle of Stirling, and Edward pre-
pared to defend it. The Scots posted themselves
at the Torwood, and chose their ground so ju-
diciously that Edward could scarcely have raised
the siege without dislodging them; which, find-
ing it impossible for him to do, he returned home
in disgust. Next year he invaded Scotland on
the west side, wasted Annandale, and reduced
Galloway; but the Scots, being taught by ex- '
perience to avoid a general action, chose their
posts with such skill that Edward could not
penetrate farther ; and the same year a truce was
concluded with the Scots, to continue till Whit-
sunday 1301. This year a new competitor ap-
peared for the crown of Scotland. Boniface
VIII., in a bull directed to Edward, averred
that Scotland belonged anciently, and did still
belong, to the holy see ; and supported his ex-
travagant claim by some strange authorities,
such as, that Scotland had been miraculously
converted by the relics of St. Andrew ; after
which he proceeded to show the futility of Ed-
ward's pretensions, and that Scotland never had
any feudal dependence on England. He required
Edward to set at liberty all the Scottish ecclesi-
astics, particularly Wishart bishop of Glasgow,
and to remove his officers from the patrimony of
the church : ' But,' added he, ' should you have
any pretensions to the whole, or any part of
Scotland, send your proctors to me within six
months ; I will hear and determine according to
justice; I take the cause under my own peculiar
cognizance.' This interposition of the pope hafF
probably been procured by Scottish emissaries
at the court of Rome; but, however ridiculous
his pretensions might be, they afforded matter of
very serious consideration to Edward. After
spending a whole winter in deliberations, Ed-
ward and his parliament made separate answers
to the pope- The answer of the parliament
stated that ' All England knew that, ever since
the first establishment of this kingdom, its kings
had been liege-lords of Scotland. At no time had
the kingdom of Scotland belonged to the church.
In temporals the kings of England are not amena-
ble to the see of Rome. We have with one voice re-
solved that, as to temporals, the king of England
is independent of Rome ; that he shall not suffer
his independency to be questioned ; and therefore
that he shall not send commissioners to Rome.
Such is, and such, we trust in God, ever will be,
our opinion. We do not, we cannot, permit our
king to follow measures subversive of that go-
vernment which we have sworn to maintain, and
which we will maintain.' The king entered into
a more full refutation of the pope's arguments ;
and having, as he thought, answered them suf-
ficiently, marched again into Scotland ; but, by
the mediation of France, another truce was con-
cluded, to last till St. Andrew's day 1302. After
the expiration of the truce, Edward sent an ami)
into Scotland, under John de Seagrave. Tins
general divided his troops into three bod.es;
but, keeping them so far distant that they could
not support each other, they were all engaged
and defeated in one day by the Scots, near Ros-
lin. This, however, was the last successful ex-
S C O 1 L A N D.
421
ploit of the Scots at this period. The pope
deserted them, and the king of France concluded
a peace with England, in which all mention of
the Scots was industriously avoided ; so that
t!iey were left alone to bear the whole weight
of Edward's resentment, who now invaded their
country in person with a mighty army. He met
with no resistance in his progress, except from
the castle of Brechin, which was commanded by
Thomas Maul, a brave and experienced officer.
He held out for tsventy days against the whole
power of the English army ; but at last, being
mortally wounded, the place capitulated. Thence
Edward proceeded northward, according to some
historians, as far as Caithness. He then returned
towards the south, and wintered in Dunfermline.
Here was an abbey of the Benedictines, a build-
ing so spacious that, according to an English
historian, three sovereign princes, with all their
retinue, might have been lodged within its pre-
cincts, and the Scottish nobles often held their
assemblies here. The English soldiers utterly
demolished this magnificent fabric. The only for-
tress that remained in the possession of the Scots
was the castle of Stirling, where Sir William
Oliphant commanded. To protect this single
place of refuge, Comyn assembled all his forces.
He posted his army on the south bank of the
river, in the neighbourhood of Stirling, there to
make the last stand for the national liberty. The
Scots fondly imagined that Edward would at-
tempt to force the passage, as the impetuous
Cressingham had attempted in circumstances
not dissimilar. But the prudence of Edward
frustrated their expectations. Having discovered
a ford at some distance, he crossed the river at
the head of- his whole cavalry. The Scots gave
way, and dispersed themselves. All resources
but their own coura«e had long failed them ; that
iast resource failed them now, and they hastened
to conciliate the favor of the conqueror. Pre-
vious to this Bruce had surrendered himself to
John de St. John, the English warden. Comyn
and his followers now submitted to Edward.
They stipulated for their lives, liberties, and es-
tates ; reserving alwnys to Edward the power of
inflicting pecuniary mulcts on them as he should
see fit. From the general conditions of this sti-
pulation, the following persons were excepted :
VVishart, bishop of Glasgow, the Steward, Sir
John Soulis, David de Graham, Alexander de
Lindesay, Simon Fra*er, Thomas Bois, and Wal-
lace. With respect to them, it was provided
that the bishop of Glasgow, the Steward, and
Soulis, should remain in exile for two years, and
should not pass to the north of Trent; thatGra-
ham and Lindesay should be banished from
Scotland for six months ; that Fraser and Bois
should be banished for three years from all the
dominions of Edward, and should not be per-
mitted, during that space, to repair to the terri-
*ories of France. ' As for \Villiam Wallace, it
is agreed, that he shall render himself up at the
wiii and mercy of our sovereign lord the king,
if it shall seem good to him.' These were all
the conditions that the Scottish nation stipulated
for the man who had vanquished the English at
Stirling, who had expelled them from Scotland,
and who had once set his coun'rv free ! But
Wallace scorned submission. He lived a free-
man ; a freeman he was resolved to die. Fraser,
who had too oft complied with the times, now
caught the same heroic sentiments. But their
endeavours to rouse their countrymen were vain.
The season of resistance was past. Wall ice
perceived that there remained no more hope ;
and sought out a place of concealment, where
eluding the vengeance of Edward, he might
silently lament o\'t his fallen country. Edward
now assembled at St. Andrew's what is called a
parliament, where Wallace, Fraser, and the gar-
rison of Stirling, were summoned to appear;
and sentence of outlawry was pronounced against
them. Edward then prepared to besiege the
castle of Stirling; and, foreseeing that the reduc-
tion of this place would be attended with diffi-
culty, stripped the abbey of St. Andrew's of the
lead which covered it, in order to employ the
metal in bullets for his battering machines. Oli-
phant was solemnly summoned to surrender, but
in vain. Edward drew out all his artillery,
and battered the walls with stones of 200 Ibs.
weight. The besieged, however, defended them-
selves with obstinacy, and killed a great number
of the English ; but at last they were obliged to
surrender; and Edward, lookins upon the con-
quest of Scotland as now complete, set out for
York, and thence to Lincoln.
Edward, though he had thus met with all the
success he could desire in his expeditions against
the Scots, could not but perceive that his domi-
nion over them must be very precarious, as long
as he held them in subjection as a conquered
people. He resolved therefore once more to re-
new his attempts for an union of the two king-
doms. He began with taking into favor the
bishop of Glasgow, Robert Bruce, and John
Mowbray, who, next to Bruce and the Cummings,
were the most powerful of the greatest of the
Scottish nobility. To them he recommended
the settling the affairs of their country, but in
such a manner as to leave it in his power to effect
the proposed union with England. This scheme,
however, was by no means agreeable to Bruce,
who had now no other competitor for the crown
but Cumming, who was in a great measure inca-
pable of opposing his designs ; neither indeed
could it ever be made agreeable to the bulk of
the nation ; and therefore came to nothing at last.
Scotland, however, was subdued. Its inhabitants
had renounced every idea of asserting their li-
berty, and only strove to make their court to the
conqueror. Wallace alone still remained an
exception. Edward, who had received into fa-
vor those who had proved traitors over and over
again, showed a mean revenge against the only
man who discovered a steady and honorable
spirit, and whose friendship seemed worth the
courting. Ralph de Haliburton, a prisoner,
offered his assistance for discovering Wallace ;
and for this purpose was granted a temporary
liberty; but what he did in this very dishonor-
able employment is unknown. Certain it is that
Wallace was discovered and betrayed into the
hands of the English by Sir John Menteith
This celebrated and heroic patriot was arraigned
at Westminster a< a traitor to Edward, and as
having burnt villages, stornu d castles, and
422
SCOTLAND,
slaughtered many subjects of England. Wa'.-
lace denied his ever having been a traitor, and
indeed with truth ; for he had always been the
avowed enemy of Edward, and had not at
any time owned allegiance to him. But what-
ever his defence might have been it was of no
avail with a judge who had resolved on his de-
struction. Wallace was condemned to die a
traitor's death, and the sentence was executed
with the utmost rigor ! In his last moments he
asserted that independency which a degenerate
nation had renounced. His head was placed on
a pinnacle at London, and his mangled limbs
were distributed over the kingdom.
After the death of Wallace, Edward thought
of nothing but settling the affairs of Scotland
as a conquered country ; however, he took care to
preserve the ancient forms so far as was consistent
with the dependent state of the nation. It has
been said, indeed, that Edward abrogated all the
Scottish laws and customs, and endeavoured to
substitute the English in their stead ; but this is
denied by others. Lord Hales gives at length
the record with respect to these laws, for which
we refer the inquisitive reader to his work. An
indemnity was now granted to the Scots upon
certain conditions. Various fines were imposed
from one to five years rent of the estates of the
delinquents. The person taxed was to pay half
his income annually ; and thus Umfraville, taxed
in five years rent, was allowed ten years to dis-
charge the fine. There was an express reserva-
tion to Edward of all the royal demesnes which
Baliol might hare alienated. There was also an
exception for those who were already in custody,
and those who had not yet submitted. Thus,
after a long and obstinate contest, was Scotland
wholly reduced under the dominion of Edward.
Within four months, however, that system was
overthrown, which the incessant labor of fifteen
years had established by craft, dissimulation,
and violence, with a waste of treasure, and the
effusion of much blood. The causes of this
event are related as follows : — Dervegil of Gal-
loway had a son, John Baliol, and a daughter
named Marjory. John Comyn was the son of
Marjory, and, setting Baliol aside, was heir to
the pretensions of Dervegil. He had for many
years maintained the contest against Edward ;
but at last laid down his arms, and swore fealty
to the conqueror ; and, as Baliol had repeatedly
renounced all pretensions to the crown of Scot-
land, Comyn might now be considered as the
rightful heir. His riTal in power and pretensions
was Bruce, earl of Carrick. This young noble-
man's grandfather, the competitor, had patiently
acquiesced in the award of Edward. His father,
yielding to the tunes, had served under the Eng-
lish banners. But young Bruce had more ambi-
tion, and a more restless spirit. In his earlier
years he acted upon no regular plan. By turns
the partisan of Edward, and the ricegerent of
Baliol, he seems to have forgotten or stifled his
pretensions to the crown. But his character de-
veloped itself by degrees, and in maturer age
1 ecame firm and consistent. According to the
traditionary report, Bruce made the following
1 roposal to Comyn : — ' Support my title to the
crown, and I will give you my estate ; or give
me yo»r estate, a- d 1 will support your's.' The
conditions were properly drawn out and signed
by both parties ; bxit Comyn, either through fear
or treachery, revealed the whole to Edward. On
this the king showed Bruce the letters of his ac-
cuser, and questioned him closely ; but the latter
found means to pacify him by mild and judicious
answers. Notwithstanding this, however, Ed-
ward still suspected him, though he dissembled
his sentiments, until he should get the brothers
of Bruce into his power. The king, having drank
freely one evening, informed some of his lords that
he had resolved to put Bruce to death next day.
The earl of Gloucester, hearing this resolution,
sent a messenger to Bruce with twelve pence
and a pair of spurs, as if he had meant to restore
what he had borrowed. Bruce understood the
meaning of his message, and prepared for
flight. The ground was covered with snow,
which would have discovered his flight ; but
he ordered, it is said, his farrier to invert the
shoes of his horses, and immediately set out for
Scotland, in company with his secretary and
groom. In his way he observed a foot passen-
ger whose behaviour seemed to be suspicious,
and whom he soon discovered to be the bearer
of letters from Comyn to the English monarch,
urging the death or immediate imprisonment of
Bruce. The latter, filled with resentment, imme-
diately beheaded the messenger, and set forward
to Lochmaben, where he arrived -he seventh <!;iy
after his departure from London. Soon after this
he repaired to Dumfries, where Comyn happened
at that time to reside. Bruce requested an inter-
view with him in the convent of the Minorites,
where he reproached him with his treachery.
Comyn gave him the lie, and Bruce instantly
stabbed him ; after which he hastened out of the
convent and called ' to horse.' His attendants,
Lindesay and Sirkpatrick, perceiving him pale,
and in extreme agitation, enquired how it \\;is
with him ? ' 111,' replied Bruce, ' 1 doubt 1 have
slain Comyn.' ' You doubt,' cried Kirkpatrick ;
on saying which, he rushed into the place where
Comyn lay, and instantly despatched him. Sir
Robert Comyn, a relation, attempted to deft ml
his kinsman, and shared his fate. Bruce had
now gone so far that it was in vain to think of
retracting ; and therefore set himself in opposi-
tion to Edward in good earnest. The justiciaries
were then holding their court at Dumfries ; who,
hearing what had happened, imagined their own
lives to be in danger, and barricaded the doors.
Bruce ordered the house to be set on fire : upon
which they surrendered ; and Bruce granted
them leave to depart out of Scotland without
molestation. The above account of this catas-
trophe, taken from the Scottish historians, seems
probable ; but those of the English writers differ
in many particulars. Lord Hales supposes both to
be wrong, and that the true circumstances of the
quarrel are unknown. The death of Comyn af-
fected the Scots variously, according to their dif-
ferent views and interests. The relations of the
deceased viewed it as a cruel assassination, and
joined with Edward in schemes of revenue.
Some, who wished well to the peace of thwir
country, thought it was better to submit quietly
to the English, than to attempt a revolution,
which could not be effected without much danger
and bloodshed ; but, on the other hand, the
SCOTLAND.
423
friends of Bruce now saw the necessity they
were under of proceeding to the coronation of
the new king without loss of time. The cere-
mony was therefore performed at Scone on the
25th of March, 130G, in presence of two earls,
the bishops of Andrew's and Glasgow, the abbot
of Scone, John de Athol, and John de Meuteith.
It had been customary, since the days of Mac-
beth, for one of the family of Fife to put the
crown on the king's head ; and Bruce found the
prepossession of the Scots in favor of this cir-
cumstance so strong that he was obliged to seek
fur an expedient to satisfy them. Macduff, the
tMil of Fife, was at that time in England, where
he had married a near relation of Edward. His
sister was wife to the earl of Buchan, one of the
heads of the family of Comyn, and consequently
the determined enemy of Robert. But, by an
uncommon effort of female patriotism, she post-
poned all private quarrels to the good of her
country, and, in her husband's absence, repaired,
with all his warlike accoutrements, to Bruce, to
whom she delivered them up, and placed the
crown upon his head. This crown is said to
have been made by Conyers, an Englishman, who
narrowly escaped being punished for it by Ed-
ward.
The king of England received intelligence of
these proceedings with astonishment; and with-
out delay sent a body of troops under Aymer
de Valence, earl of Pembroke, to suppress the
alleged rebellion. Bruce omitted nothing for
his defence. He had always been considered
by his countrymen as an accomplished young
nobleman, firmly attached to Edward's person
and government ; and confided in as such by
those independent patriots who joined Wallace.
But their utmost confidence was now gained by
his rendering himself so obnoxious to Edward
that no possibility of a reconciliation was left ;
and he soon saw himself at the head of an army.
^ ith these Bruce formed a camp at Methven,
near Perth, the head-quarters of the enemy ; but
knowing the disadvantage under which he labored
from the inexperience of his men, he resolved to
act upon the defensive. The English general
sent Bruce a challenge to fight him, which was
accepted ; but the day before the battle was to
have been fought by agreement, the Scots were
attacked by surprise, and totally defeated. Bruce
behaved with the greatest valor, and had three
horses killed under him. Being known by the
slaughter which he made, John Mowbray, a man
of great courage and resolution, rushed upon
him, and catching hold of his horse's bridle,
cried out, ' I have hold of the new made king !'
but he was delivered by Christopher Seaton.
After the battle many prisoners were hanged
and quartered. This disaster almost gave the
finishing stroke to the affairs of Bruce. He now
found himself deserted by a great part of his fol-
lowers. The English had taken prisoners great
numbers of women whose husbands followed
him ; and all those were now ordered, on pain
of death, to return to their husbands. Thus was
Bruce burdened with a number of useless adhe-
rents, and found it hard to subsist. The conse-
quence \\as that most of his men departed with
their fam!L«, so that in a few days his force
was reduced to 500. With these he retreated
to Aberdeen, where he was met by his brother
Sir Neil, his wife, and a number of other ladies,
the latter of whom he persuaded to retire to his
castle of Kildrummey, under the protection of
Sir Neil Bruce and the earl of Athol. In the
mean time the desertion among Bruce's troops
continued, so that now he had with him not
more than 200 men ; and, as winter was coming
on, he resolved to go into Argyleshire, where Sir
Neil Campbell's estate lay. In his way thither
he encountered incredible difficulties ; and, some
of his followers being cut off at a place called
Dairy, the rest were so disheartened that they
all forsook him, excepting Sir Gilbert Hay, Sir
James Douglas, and a few domestics. Bruce,
however, kept up the spirits of his little party
by recounting to them the adventures of princes
and patriots in circumstances similar to his owa.
Having crossed Lochlomond in a small crazy
boat, he was discovered by his trusty friend the
earl of Lenox, who had been proscribed in Eng-
land, and now lived in a kind of exile on his
own estate. The meeting between these friends
was very affecting, and drew tears from the eyes
of all present. Lenox, who had heard nothing
of Bruce's misfortunes, furnished him and his
half-famished attendants with plenty of provi-
sions ; but being soon made sensible that it was
impossible for them to live in a place where
they were well known, and surrounded by ene-
mies, Bruce resolved to seek out some more safe
habitation. For this purpose Sir Neil Campbell
had already provided shipping ; but our adven-
turers had scarcely set sail, when they were pur-
sued by a large squadron of the enemy's rleet.
The bark which carried the earl of Lenox
escaped with the utmost difficulty to Cantire,
where Bruce was already landed; and, at their
meeting, both agreed they would never after-
wards be separated. In the mean time Edward,
having compromised some differences with his
English subjects, resumed his old project of
entirely subduing Scotland ; and his intention
appears to have been to divide the lands of such
as he suspected of disaffection among his Eng-
lish followers. He ordered a proclamation to be
issued, that all who had any title to the honor
of knighthood, either by heritage or estate,
should repair to Westminster to receive all mi-
litary ornaments, their horses excepted, from
his royal wardrobe. As the prince of Wales
came under this denomination, he was the first
who underwent the ceremony ; which gave him
a right to confer the like honor on the sons of
above 300 of the chief nobility and gentry of
England. The prince then repaired, at the head
of this gallant train, to Edward ; who received
them, surrounded by his nobility, in the most
solemn manner. The king then made a speech
on the treachery of the Scots, whose entire de-
struction he vowed. He declared his resolution
of once more heading his army in person ; and
desired, in case of his death, that his body might
be carried to Scotland, and not buried till signal
vengeance was taken on the perfidious nation.
Having then ordered all present to join him
within fifteen days, with their attendants and
military equipages, he prepared for his journey
424
SCOTLAND
northward. He entered the country soon after
Bruce's defeat at Methven The army was di-
vided into two bodies ; one commanded by the
king, the other by the prince of Wales, and,
under him, by the earls of Lancaster and Here-
ford, with orders to proceed northwards, and
penetrate into the countries where the interest
of Bruce was strongest. As he passed along,
Edward caused all that fell into his hands, whom
he suspected of favoring Bruce's party, to be
immediately executed. The bishop of Glasgow
was the only exception to this barbarity : he was
taken, but had his life spared on account of his
function. In the mean time, as the prince of
Wales continued his march, Bruce's queen began
to be alarmed for her safety. She was advised
to take sanctuary at the shrine of St. Duthac in
Rossshire ; but there she was made prisoner by
William earl of Ross, who was of the English
party. By Edward's order she was sent to Lon-
don ; her daughter, who was taken at the same
time, being shut up in a religious house. The
directions for the entertainment of the queen are
still preserved. She was to be conveyed to the
manor of Brustewick ; to have a waiting-woman
and a maid-servant, advanced in life, sedate, and
of good conversation: a butler, two men ser-
vants, and a foot-boy for her chamber, ' sober,
not riotous,' to make her bed ; three greyhounds
when she inclines to hunt; venison, fish, and
the fairest house in the manor. In 1308 she was
removed to another prison ; in 1312 she was
removed to Windsor Castle, 20s. per week being
allowed for her maintenance. In 1314 she was
committed to Rochester Castle, and was not
set at liberty till the close of that year. The
only fortress which Bruce possessed in Scotland
was the castle of Kildrummy ; and it was soon
besieged by the earls of Lancaster and Hereford.
( >ne Osburn treacherously burnt the magazine ;
by which means the garrison, destitute of provi-
sions, was obliged to surrender at discretion.
The common soldiers were hanged ; Sir Neil
Bruce and the earl of Athol were sent prisoners
to Edward, who caused them to be hanged on a
gallows fifty feet high, and then beheaded and
burnt. The countess of Buchan, who had
crowned king Robert, was taken prisoner ; as
was lady Mary Bruce, the king's sister. Some
historians say that Edward ordered these two
ladies to be shut up in wooden cages, one
to be hung over the walls of the castle of Rox-
burgh, and the other over those of Berwick,
as public spectacles : but lord Hales tells us
that the countess of Buchan was put into close
confinement in the castle of Berwick. About
this time, also, many others of Bruce's party
were put to death ; among whom were Thomas
and Alexander Bruce, two of the king's brothers,
and John Wallace, brother to the celebrated Sir
^N illiam. Bruce himself, in the mean time, was
in such a despicable situation that it was thought
he never more could give disturbance ; it was
even reported that he was dead. All his mis-
fortunes, however, could not intimidate him, or
prevent his meditating a most severe revenge
upon the destroyers of his family. He first re-
moved to the castle of Dumbarton, where he was
hospitably received and entertained by Angus
lord of Kintyre : but, suspecting that he was not
safe there, he sailed in three days to Rachrin, a
small island on the Insh coast, where he secured
himself effectually from the pursuit of his ene-
mies. It was during his stay in this island that
the report of his death was generally propagated.
Notwithstanding this, his party increased consi-
derably ; even when he landed on this island,
he was attended by 300 men. However, after
having lived secluded for some time, being ap-
prehensive that the report of his death might be
generally credited among his friends, it was re-
solved to attempt the surprise of a fort held by
the English under Sir John Hastings, on the isle
of Arran. This was performed with success by
his two friends Douglas and Sir Robert Boydy
who put the greatest part of the garrison to the
sword. The king, hearing of their success,.
passed over into Arran ; but, not knowing where
his people resided, is said to have found them
out by blowing a horn. He then sent a trusty
servant, one Cuthbert, into his own county of
Carrick ; with orders, in case he found it well
affected to his cause, to light a Are on a certain
point near his castle of Tunberry, whence it
could be discerned in Arran. Bruce and his
party perceived the signal, as they thought, and
immediately put to sea. Their voyage took up
but little time ; and, as Bruce had now 400 men
along with him, he resolved immediately to act
on the offensive. His first exploit was to sur-
prise his own castle of Tunberry, which had
been given, along with Bruce's estate, to lord
Henry Percy. Him he drove out, along with
the English garrison ; but, in the mean time, he
met with his servant Cuthbert, who gave him
disagreeable intelligence. This man had met
with very little encouragement in Scotland ; in
consequence of which he had not lighted the fire
agreed upon as a signal of his success, that
which Bruce had observed having been kindled
by accident. He also told him that the English
were in full possession of the country. Soon
after this the king was joined by a lady of for-
tune, who brought along with her forty warriors.
By her he was first particularly informed of the
miserable fete of his family and relations ; which,
instead of disheartening, animated him the more
with a desire of revenge. However, he did not
immediately attempt any thing, but allowed
Douglas to make an effort for the recovery of
his estate of Douglasdale. In this expedition
Douglas was joined by one Thomas Dickson, a
man of considerable fortune, and who gave him
intelligence concerning the state of the country.
By his advice he kept himself private till Palm
Sunday, when he and his followers with covered
armor repaired to St. Bride's church, where the
English were attending divine service. The
latter were surprised, but made a brave defence;
until being overpowered by numbers they were
obliged to yield. Douglas, without farther re-
sistance, took possession of his own castle, which
he found well furnished with arms, provisions,
and money. He destroyed all that he could not
carry with him, and also the castle itself, where
he knew that he must have been besieged had
he kept it. While Bruce and his friends were
thus signalising themselves, and struggling with
SCOTLAND.
425
the English under so many disadvantages, they
met with many difficult adventures related by
the Scottish historians ; but, as it is now impos-
sible to distinguish the true from the false, we
shall pass over the greater part in silence, con-
fining ourselves only to those facts which are
important and well authenticated. In 1307 the
earl of Pembroke advanced into the west of
Scotland to encounter Bruce. The latter did
not decline the combat; and Pembroke was
defeated. Three days after this, Bruce defeated
with great slaughter another English general
named Ralph de Monthermer, and obliged him
to fly to the castle of Ayr. The king laid siege
to the castle for some time, but retired at the
approach of succors from England. This year
the English performed nothing, except burning
the monastery at Paisley. Edward, however,
resolved still to execute his utmost vengeance
on the Scots, though he had long been retarded
by a dangerous indisposition. He was now so
weak, however, that he could advance no far-
ther than six miles in four days ; after which he
expired in sight of Scotland, which he had so
often devoted to destruction. With his dying
breath he gave orders that his body should ac-
company his army into Scotland, and remain
unburied until the country was totally subdued ;
but his son caused it to be deposited in West-
minster Abbey.
The death of such an inveterate enemy to the
Scottish name could not fail of raising the spirits
of Bruce and his party ; and the inactive and
timid behaviour of his successor Edward II.
contributed not a little to give them fresh cou-
rage. After having granted the guardianship of
Scotland to his favorite Piers de Gaveston, earl
of Pembroke, whom his father had lately banish-
ed, he advanced to Cumnock, on the frontiers of
Ayrshire, and then retreated into England ; con-
ferring the office of guardian of Scotland upon
John de Bretagne, earl of Richmond, a fortnight
after he had bestowed it upon Gaveston. He
was no sooner gone than Bruce invaded Gallo-
way. The inhabitants refusing to follow his
standard, he laid waste the country ; but was
defeated and obliged to retire northwards by the
guardian. In the north he overran the country
without opposition ; and soon began to move
southwards again to repair his late disaster. He
was encountered by Comyn, earl of Buchan,
with an undisciplined body of English, whom
he entirely defeated and dispersed. But about
this time he was seized with a grievous distem-
per, which weakened him so much that no hopes
were left of his recovery. In this enfeebled
situation he was attacked by the earl of Buchan
and John Mowbray, an English commander, who
had assembled a body of troops. The armies
met at Inverary in Aberdeenshire. Bruce was
too weak to support himself, and therefore was
held upon horseback by two attendants ; but he
had the pleasure of seeing his enemies totally
defeated, and pursued with great slaughter for
many miles : it is reported that the agitation of
his spirits on that day proved the means of
curing him of his disease. This battle was
fought on the 22nd of May, 1308. The king of
Scotland now lock revenge of his enemies, after
the manner of that barbarous age, by wast-
ing the county of Buchan with fire and sword ;
and his success had so raised his character that
many of the Scots who had hitherto adhered to
the English cause now came over to him. Ed-
ward, the king's brother, invaded Galloway, and
defeated the inhabitants of that country. John
de St. John, an English commander, with 1500
horsemen, attempted to surprise him ; but Ed-
ward, having received timely information of his
designs, ordered the infantry to entrench them-
selves strongly, while he himself, with fifty horse-
men well armed, under cover of a >ick mist,
attacked his enemies and put them to flight.
After this he reduced all the fortresses in the
country, and totally expelled the English. About
this time also, Douglas, when roving about the
mountainous parts of Tweedale, surprised and
made prisoners Thomas Randolph the king's
nephew, and Alexander Stewart of Bonkil, who
had hitherto continued inimical to the interests
of Robert. Randolph was conducted to the
king, but talked to him in a haughty strain;
upon which his uncle put him into close con-
finement. The next exploit of Robert was
against the lord of Lorn, a division of Argyle-
shire. It was this nobleman who had reduced
the king to such straits after his defeat at Meth-
ven ; and he now resolved to take ample re-
venge. Having entered the country, the king
arrived at a narrow pass, where the troops of
Lorn lay in ambush. This pass had a high
mountain on the one side, and a precipice
washed by the sea on the other; but Robert
having ordered Douglas to make a circuit and
gain the summit of the mountain with part of
the army, he entered himself with the rest. He
was immediately attacked ; but Douglas with
his men rushed down the hill, and decided the
victory in favor of the king; who soon after took
the castle of Dunstaffnage, the chief residence
of this nobleman. While Robert and his asso-
ciates were thus exciting the admiration of their
countrymen by their exploits, the English were
so unsettled and fluctuating in their counsels
that their party knew not how to act. Edward
still imagined that there was a possibility of
reconciling the Scots to his government ; and
for this purpose he employed William de Lam-
by rton, bishop of St. Andrew's, who, after
having been taken prisoner, and carried from
one place of confinement to another, had at last
made such submissions as procured first his
liberty and then the confidence of Edward.
This ecclesiastic, having taken a most solemn
oath of fidelity to the English monarch, now
resolved to ingratiate himself, by publishing
against Robert and his adherents a sentence of
excommunication, which had been resolved on
long before. This, however, produced no effect ;
and the event was that in 1309, through the
mediation of the king of France, Edward con-
sented to a truce with the Scots. This pacific
disposition, however, lasted not long. The truce
was scarcely concluded when Edward charged
the Scots with violating it, and summoned the
barons to meet him in arms at Newcastle; yet,
probably being doubtful of the event of the war,
lie empowered Robert de Umfraville. and three
SCOTLAND.
others, to conclude a new truce ; declaring, how-
ever, that he did this at the request of Philip
king of France, as his dearest father and friend,
but who was in no sort to be considered as the
ally of Scotland. The new negociations were
soon interrupted. They were again renewed ;
and, in the beginning of 1310, the truce was
concluded, but entirely disregarded by the Scots.
The progress of Bruce now became alarming.
The town of Perth, a place at that time of great
importance, was threatened ; and, to relieve it,
Edward ordered a fleet to sail up the river Tay;
he also commanded the earl of Ulster to assem«
ble a body of troops at Dublin, and thence to
invade Scotland ; his own barons were ordered
to meet him in arms at Berwick. About the
end of September he entered Scotland ; passed
from Roxburgh through the forest of Selkirk to
Biggar ; thence he penetrated into Renfrew ;
and, turning back by the way of Linlithgow, he
retreated to Berwick, where he continued inactive
eight months. During this invasion, Robert had
carefully avoided a battle with the English, well
knowing that an invasion undertaken in autumn
would ruin the heavy armed cavalry, on which
the English placed their chief dependence.
His cause was also favored by a scarcity which
prevailed at this time in Scotland ; for, as maga-
zines and «ther resources of modern war were
then unknown, the English army were greatly
retarded in their operations, and found it impos-
sible to subsist in the country. The spirit of
enterprise had now communicated itself to all
ranks of people in Scotland. In 1311 the castle
of Linlithgow was surprised by a poor peasant,
named William Binnock. The English garrison
were secure, and kept but a slight guard ; of
which Binnock being informed, concealed eight
resolute men in a load of hay, which he had
been employed to drive into the castle. With
these, as soon as the gate was opened, he fell
upon the feeble guard, and became master of the
place ; which was dismantled by Robert, as well
as all the other castles taken in the course of the
war. Edward now resolved to invade Scotland
again ; and for this purpose ordered his army to
assemble at Roxburgh. But Robert, not con-
tented with acting on the defensive, resolved
in his turn to invade England. He accordingly
entered that country, and cruelly ravaged the
bishopric of Durham. He returned loaded with
spoil, and laid siege to Perth. .' fter remaining
six weeks before that place, he raised the siege,
but returned in a few days, and, having provided
scaling ladders, approached the works with a
chosen body of infantry. In a dark night he
made the attack ; and, having waded through the
ditch, though the water stood to his throat, he
was the second man who reached the top of the
walls. The (own was then soon taken ; after
which it was plundered and burnt, and the for-
tifications levelled with the ground, on the 8th
of January, 1312.
Edward was now become weary of the war,
and renewed his negociations for a truce ; but
they still came to nothing. Robert again in-
vaded England ; burnt great part of the city of
Durham ; and" even threatened to besiege Ber-
VM< l w-K^ro tt-« v;~~ ^f ^ngland had for the
time fixed his residence. He next reduced the
castles of Butel, Dumfries, and Dalswinton, with
many other fortresses. The castle of Roxburgh,
a place of the utmost importance, then fell into
his hands. The walls were scaled while the
garrison was revelling on the eve of Lent. They
retreated into the inner tower ; but their gover-
nor a Frenchman, having received a mortal
wound, capitulated. Randolph, the king's
nephew, was now received into favor, and began
to distinguish himself in the cause of his coun-
try. He blockaded the castle of Edinburgh so
closely that all communication with the neigh-
bouring country was cut oft'. The place was
commanded by one Leland, a knight of Gas-
cony ; but the garrison, suspecting his fidelity,
imprisoned him in a dungeon, and chose another
commander in his stead. One William Frank
presented himself to Randolph, and informed
him how the walls might be scaled. This man
in his youth had resided in the castle; and,
having an intrigue with a woman in the neigh-
bourhood, had been accustomed to descend the
wall during the night, by means of a ladder of
ropes ; whence, by a steep and difficult path, he
arrived at the foot of the rock. Randolph him-
self, with thirty men, undertook therefore to scale
the castle walls at midnight. Frank was their
guide, who still retained a perfect memory of
the path, and who first ascended the wall. But,
before the whole party could reach the summit,
an alarm was given, the garrison ran to arms,
and a desperate combat ensued. The English
fought valiantly till their commander was killed ;
after which they threw down their arms. Leland,
the former governor, was released from his con-
finement, and entered into the Scottish service.
In 1313 king Robert found the number of Ins
friends still increasing. He was now joined I y
the earl of Athol, who had lately obtained a trn'itt
of lands from Edward. This year, through the
mediation of France, the conferences for a truce
were renewed. These, however, did not retard
the military operations of the Scots. Cumberland
was invaded and laid waste ; the miserable inhabit-
ants besought Edward's protection ; who com-
mended their fidelity, and desired them to defend
themselves. In the mean time Robert, leaving
Cumberland, passed over into the Isle of Man,
which he totally reduced. Edward found great
difficulties in raising the supplies nece^nry for
carrying on the war; but at last overcame all these,
and by the beginning of 1314 was prepared to
invade Scotland with a large army. In March he
ordered his ships to be assembled for the invasion;
invited to his assistance Eth O'Connor, chief of
the Irish of Connaught, and twenty-six other
Irish chiefs; summoned them and his subjects
in Ireland to attend his standard, and gave the
command of these auxiliaries to the earl of II-
ster. His barons were summoned to meet him
at Berwick on the 12th of June, and 22,000 foot
soldiers, from the different counties of England
and Wales, were required by proclamation to
assemble at Wark. In the mean time the suc-
cesses of the Scots continued. Edward Bruce
had reduced the castles of Rutherglen and Dun-
dee, and laid siege to the castle of Stirling. The
governor agreed to surrender, if he was not re-
SCOTLAND.
427
lieved before the 24th of June, 1314 : and to
this Edward agreed, without consulting his bro-
ther. The king was highly displeased with this
/ash treaty, which interrupted his own operations,
allowed the English time to assemble their ut-
most force, and at last obliged him either to raise
the siege, or to put all on the event of a single
battle. However, he resolved to abide by the
agreement, and to meet the English by the ap-
pointed day. Having ordered a general rendez-
vous of his forces between Falkirk and Stirling,
he found their number to amount to somewhat
more that 30,000, besides upwards of 15,000 of
an undisciplined rabble that followed the camp.
He determined to wait the English in afield which
had the burn or brook of Bannock on the right
and Stirling on the left. His chief dread was
the strength and number of the English cavalry,
and these he took every method to oppose. The
banks of the Bannock were steep in many places,
and the ground between it and Stirling was
partly covered with wood. The king commanded
many pits, of about a foot in breadth and two
or three feet deep, to be dug in all places where
cavalry could have access. From the description
given of them, by the historians of those times,
there seem to have been many rows of them,
with narrow intervals. They were carefully co-
vered with brushwood and sod, so that they
would easily be overlooked by a rash and impe-
tuous»enemy. He also made use of caltrops, to
annoy the horses. On the 23d of June the Scots
received intelligence of the approach of Edward,
and prepared to decide the fate of their country.
The front of their army extended fiom the Ban-
nockburn nearly to St. Ninians, almost upon the
line of the present turnpike road from Stirling
to Kilsyth ; and the stone in which the king is
said to have fixed his standard is still to be seen.
Robert commanded all his soldiers to fight on
foot. He gave the command of the centre to
Douglas and Walter, the grand steward of Scot-
land ; his brother Edward had the command of
the right wing, and Randolph of the left ; the
king himself taking charge of the reserve, which
consisted of the men of Argyle, Carrick, and the
islanders. In a valley to the rear, west of a ris-
ing ground, now called Gilles' Hill, he placed
the baggage, and all the useless attendants of his
army. Randolph was commanded to be vigilant
in preventing the English from throwing suc-
cors into the castle of Stirling ; but 800 horse-
men, commanded by Sir Robert Clifford, made
a circuit by the low grounds to the east, and soon
approached the castle. The king, perceiving
their motions, chid Randolph for his inadver-
tency, on which the latter hasted to encounter
that body. As he advanced, the English wheeled
to attack him. Randolph drew up his men in a cir-
cular form, presenting their spears on every side.
At the first onset Sir William Daynecourt, an
English commander of distinguished valor, was
killed ; but Randolph, who had only a small
party with him, was surrounded on all sides.
Douglas perceived his danger, and requested
the king to let him go to his assistance ; Robert
at first refused, but afterwards consented with re-
luctance. Douglas set out without delay ; but
as he approached he saw the English falling into
disorder ; upon which he called on his men to
stop, and not diminish the glory of Randolph
and his men byshning their victory. Robert
was in front of the line when the English ap-
peared. He was meanly dressed, with a crown
above his helmet, and a battle-axe in his hand.
Henry de Bohun, an English knight, armed cap-
a-pee, rode forward to encounter him. Robert
struck his antagonist so violently with his bat-
tle-axe that he cleft him down to the chi ;
after which the English vanguard retreated in
confusion. The Scottish generals blamed their
king for his rashness in thus encountering Bohun,
and he himself, conscious of the justice of their
charge, only replied, ' I have broken my good
battle-axe.' On Monday, the 24th of June, the
whole English army moved on to the attack.
The van, consisting of archers and lancemen,
was commanded by Gilbert de Clare, earl of
Gloucester, nephew to the English king, and
Humphry de Bohun, constable of "England ; but
the ground was so narrow that the rest of the
army had not sufficient room to expand itself; so
that it appeared to the Scots as consisting of one
great compact body. The main body was brought
up by Edward in person, attended by Aymer de
Valence earl of Pembroke, and Sir Giles d'Ar-
gentine, two experienced commanders. Maurice,
abbot of Inchaffray, placing himself on an emi-
nence, celebrated mass in the sight of the Scot-
tish army. He then passed along the front, bare-
footed, with a crucifix in his hands, and in few
words exhorted the Scots to fight for their rights
and liberty. The Scots fell down on their knees,
which being perceived by Edward, he cried out,
' They yield ! See, they implore mercy.' ' They
do,' answered Umfraville, one of his com-
manders, ' they do implore mercy but not from
us. On that field they will be victorious or die.'
As both parties were violently exasperated
against each other, the engagement began with
great fury. The king of Scotland, perceiving
that his troops were grievously annoyed by the
English archers, ordered Sir Robert Keith the
marischal, with a few armed horsemen, to make a
circuit, and attack the archers in flank. This
was instantly accomplished ; and, as the weapons
of the archers were useless in a close encounter,
they could make very little resistance, at the
same time that their flight spread disorder
through the whole army. Robert now advanced
with the reserve ; the whole English army was
in the utmost confusion ; for the defeat of the
archers had decided the victory in favor of the
Scots. The young and gallant earl of Glouces-
ter attempted to rally the fugitives, but was
thrown from his horse and cut in pieces, which
increased the general confusion. At this critical
moment, the numerous attendants on the Scot-
tish camp, promoted by curiosity, or the desire
of plunder issued from their retirement. The
English mistook them for a body of fresh troops
coming to the assistance of their enemies, and
fled with precipitation on all sides. Many
sought refuge among the rocks in the neighbour-
hood of Stirling castle, and many were drowned
in the rivers. Pembroke and Sir Giles d'Argen-
tine had never quitted Edward during the ac-
tion ; but now, seeing the battle irretrievably
428
SCOTLAND.
lost, Pembroke constrained the king to quit the
field. D'Argentine refused to fly. He was a
man of great valor, and had a high reputation
in Scotland. He is said to have thrice encoun-
tered two Saracen warriors at once in Palestine,
and to have killed both his adversaries each time.
His valor now availed him but little ; for, rush-
ing into the midst of the Scottish army, he was
instantly cut in pieces. Douglas, with sixty
horsemen, pursued Edward close. At the
Torwood he met Sir Lawrence Abernethy, who
was hastening to the English rendezvous with
twenty horsemen. The latter soon abandoned
the cause of the vanquished, aud joined Doug-
las in the pursuit of Edward, who fled to Lin-
lithgow. He had scarcely arrived there, when
he was alarmed by the approach of the Scots,
and again obliged to fly. Douglas and Aberne*
thy followed him with such assiduity, that (as
lord Hales says) ne vel mingendi locus concede-
retur ; but, notwithstanding their utmost efforts,
Edward got safe to Dunbar, where he was re-
ceived by the earl of March, who protected him
till he could be conveyed by sea to England,
where he met with a more horrible death than if
he had been killed in battle. Such was the de-
cisive victory of Bannockburn, the greatest defeat
the English ever sustained from the Scots. On
the side of the latter no persons of note were
slain, except Sir William Vipont and Sir Walter
Ross, the favorite of Edward Bruce ; and so
grievously was Edward afflicted by the death of
this man, that he exclaimed, ' O that this day's
work were undone, so Ross had not died ! ' On
the English side were slain twenty-seven barons
and bannerets, and twenty-two taken prisoners ;
of knights there were killed forty-three, and sixty
taken prisoners ; of esquires there fell 700 ; but
the number of the common men who were killed
or taken was never known with any certainty.
See BANNOCK-BURN. The Welsh who had served
in the English army were scattered over the
country, and cruelly butchered by the Scottish
peasants ; the .English, who had taken refuge
among the locks in the neighbourhood of Stir-
ling, surrendered at discretion ; the castle was
surrendered, and the privy-seal of England fell
into the hands of the king of Scots. The spoils
of the English camp were immense, and, along
with the ransom of the many noble prisoners who
fell into their hands, greatly enriched the con-
querors. Robert showed much generosity in his
treatment of the prisoners. He set at liberty Ralph
de Monthermer and Sir Marmaduke Twerge,
two officers of high rank, without ransom ; and
by humane and generous offices alleviated the
misfortunes of the rest. The dead bodies of the
earl of Gloucester and lord Clifford were sent to
England, that they might be interred by their
friends. There was one Bastan, a Carmelite
friar and poet, whom Edward is said to have
brought with him in his train, to be spectator of
his achievements, and to record his triumphs.
It Man was made prisoner, and obliged to cele-
brate the victory of Robert over the English.
This he did in wretched Latin rhymes, which,
however, procured his liberty. After the battle
of Bannockburn, the earl of Hereford retreated
to the castle u( Bothwell, where he was besieged
by Edward Bruce, and soon obliged to surren-
der. He was exchanged for the wife, sister, ami
daughter of the king, the young earl of Mar,
and the bishop of Glasgow.
The terror of the English after the defeat at
Bannockburn is almost incredible. Walsingham
asserts that many of them revolted to the Scots,
and assisted them in plundering their own coun-
try. ' The English,' says he, ' were so bereaved
of their wonted intrepidity, that 100 of that na-
tion would have fled from two or three Scotch-
men.' Edward Bruce and Douglas entered
England on the east side, ravaged Northumber-
land, and laid the bishopric of Durham under
contribution. Thence they proceeded to Rich-
mond, laid Appleby and some other towns in
ashes, and returned home laden with plunder.
Edward summoned a parliament at York, to con-
cert means for the public security ; and appointed
the earl of Pembroke to be guardian of the coun-
try between the Trent and the Tweed. Robert,
however, sent ambassadors to treat of peace;
but the Scots were too much elated with their
good fortune to make concessions, and the Eng-
lish were not yet sufficiently humbled to yield to
all their demands. The ravages of war were re-
newed, and the Scots continued their incursions
into England, and levied contributions in different
places. In 1315 the English affairs seemed to
revive. The Scots indeed plundered Durham and
Hartlepool ; but they were repulsed from Car-
lisle, and failed in an attempt on Berwick. The
Irish of Ulster, oppressed by the English govern-
ment, implored the assistance of Robert, and
offered to acknowledge his brother Edward as
their sovereign ; who accordingly landed at
Carrickfergus on the 25th of May, 1315, with
6000 men. This was an enterprise evidently
beyond the power of Scotland to accomplish.
However, there were motives which induced
Robert to consent. The offer of a crown in-
flamed the ambition of Edward Bruce, whose
impetuous valor made no account of difficulties,
however great. It might have been deemed un-
generous, and perhaps impolitic, to have rejected
the proposals of the Irish for the advancement of
his brother, to whom the king owed more than
he could repay. Besides, the invasion of
Ireland seemed a proper expedient for dividing
the English forces. But the issue proved
unfortunate. The king himself had gone over into
Ireland, to assist his brother in attempting the
subjection of that country ; and during his ab-
sence the English had made several attempts to
disturb the tranquillity of Scotland. The earl of
Arundel invaded the forest of Jedburgh with a
numerous army ; but, being drawn into an am-
buscade by Douglas, he was defeated with great
loss. Edmund de Caillaud, a knight of Gascony
and governor of Berwick, invaded and wasted
Teviotdale ; but, while he was returning home,
loaded with spoil, he was attacked, defeated,
and killed by Douglas. Soon after this intelli-
gence was conveyed to Douglas that one Robert
Neville had boasted that he would encounter
him whenever he saw his banner displayed.
Douglas soon gave him an opportunity. He
advanced towards Berwick, displayed his banner
and burnt some villages. Neville, provoked a
S C O T L A N D.
429
these ravages, took the field, encountered Dou-
glas, was defeated and killed. By sea the English
invaded Scotland, and anchored ott'lnverkeithing
in tlie frith of Forth, where they soon after landed ;
500 men, under the earl and sheriff of Fife, at-
tempted to oppose their landing, but were in-
timidated by the number of their enemies.
William Sinclair, bishop of Dunkeld, happened
to meet the fugitives ; and having, by his re-
proaches, obliged them to rally, he led them on
u^ain to the charge, and drove the English to
their ships with considerable loss. For this ex-
ploit Robert conferred the title of the king's
bishop on Sinclair ; and he was long venerated
!•>• his countrymen on this account. In 1317,
after king Robert had returned from his Irish
expedition, a bull was issued by pope John
XXII. commanding a two years' truce between
England and Scotland, under pain of excom-
munication. Two cardinals were sent into Bri-
tain to make known his commands ; and they
were empowered to inflict the highest spiritual
censures on Robert Bruce, or whomsoever else
they thought proper. About the beginning of
September 1317 two messengers were sent to
Robert by the cardinals. The king gave them a
gracious reception ; and, after consulting with
his barons, answered that he very much desired
a perpetual peace, by the mediation of the cardi-
nals, or any means. He allowed the open letters
from the pope, which recommended peace, to be
read in his presence, and listened to them with
due respect; but he would not receive the
sealed letters addressed to Robert Bruce, gover-
nor of Scotland, alleging that there might be
many of his barons whose names were Robert
Bruce, and that these barons might have some
share in the government. Unless, therefore, the
letters were addressed to him as king of Scotland,
he could not receive them without advice of his
parliament, which he promised immediately to
assemble on the occasion. The messengers at-
tempted to apologise for the omission of the title
of king. ' The holy church was not wont,' they
said, 'during the dependence of a controversy,
to write or say any thing which might be inter-
preted as prejudicial to the claims of either of
the contending parties.' ' Since then,' answered
the king, ' my spiritual father and my holy mother
would not prejudice the cause of my adversary,
by bestowing on me the appellation of king
during the dependence of the controversy, they
ought not to have prejudiced my cause by with-
drawing that appellation from me. I am in pos-
session of the kingdom of Scotland ; all my
people call me king; and foreign princes address
me under that title ; but it seems that my parents
are partial to their English son. Had you pre-
sumed to present letters with such an address to
any other sovereign prince, you might perhaps
have been answered in a harsher style ; but 1
reverence you as the messengers of the holy see."
The messengers, quite abashed with this reply,
requested that he would consent to a temporary
cessation of hostilities; but to this he declared
that he never would consent, while the English
daily invaded and plundered his people. His
counsellors told the messengers that the dis-
respectful omission was owing to the intrigues of
the English at the court of Rome, and hinted
that they had received this intelligence from
Avignon. When the messengers had informed
the cardinals of these proceedings, the latter de-
termined to proclaim the papal truce in Scotland ;
in which hazardous office they employed Adam
Newton, guardian of the monastery of Minorities
at Berwick, who was charged with letters to the
clergy of Scotland, particularly to the bishop of
St. Andrew's. The monk found the king en-
camped with his army in a wood near Old Cam-
bus, making preparations for assaulting Berwick.
Personal access was denied to the king ; but the
monk proclaimed the truce by the authority of
the pope. The king sent him for answer that
he would listen to no bulls till he was treated as
king of Scotland, and had made himself master
of Berwick. The monk, terrified at this answer,
requested either a safe conduct to Berwick, or
permission to pass into Scotland, and deliver his
letters to the Scottish clergy. Both were refused ;
and he was commanded to leave the country in-
stantly. He set out for Berwick, but in his way
thither was attacked by robbers, 01 some who
pretended to be so. By them he was stripped
and robbed of all his parchments, together with
his letters and instructions; the robbers also tore
the pope's bull. In 1318 king Robert proceeded
in his enterprize against Berwick. A citizen of
Berwick, named Spalding, having been ill used
by the governor, resolved to revenge himself;
and therefore wrote a letter to a Scottish lord,
whose relation he had married, offering on a
certain night to betray the town. The nobleman
communicated this important intelligence to the
king, who commanded him to repair to a certain
place with a body of troops ; to which place he
also gave separate orders to Douglas and Ran-
dolph to repair at the same hour, each with a
body of troops under his command. The forces,
thus cautiously assembled, marched to Berwick,
and, assisted by Spalding, scaled the walls,
making themselves masters of the place in a few
hours. The garrison of the cattle, perceiving
that the number of Scots was but small, made a
desperate sally with the men who had fled into
the castle from the town ; but, liter an obstinate
conflict, they were defeated and driven back,
chiefly by the extraordinary valor of a young
knight, named Sir William Keith, of Galston,
on the 28th March 1318. King Robert no
sooner heard of the success of his forces against
the town than he hastened to lay siege to the
castle of Berwick, which was soon obliged to
.apitulate; after which the Scots entered Nor-
thumberland, and took the castles of Wark,
Ilarbottle, and Mitford.
In May 1318 they again invaded England,
and penetrated into Yorkshire, burning, in their
progress, the towns of Northallerton, Borough-
bridge, Scarborough, and Skipton in Craven,
and forcing the inhabitants of Rippon to redeem
themselves by paying 1000 merks ; after which
they returned to Scotland with much booty ;
and, as an English historian expresses it, 'driving
their prisoners before them like flocks of sheep.'
This year the interposition of the pope was again
obtained against Robert ; and the two cardinals-
residing in England were commanded to excom-
430
SCOTLAND.
municate Robert Bruce and his adherents, on
account of his treatment of the messengers of
the holy see, and his assault of Berwick, after a
truce had been proclaimed by the papal authority.
This sentence was accordingly put in execution:
and, on messengers being sent from Scotlarid to
Rome, to procure a reversal of the sentence,
Edward despatched the bishop of Hereford, and
Hugh d'Espencer the elder, to inform his holiness
of certain intercepted letters which had been
written from Avignon to Scotland ; upon which
the pope ordered all the Scots residing at Avig-
non, and all of that place who had corresponded
with Scotland, to be taken into custody. The
most remarkable transaction of this year, how-
ever, was the defeat and death of Edward Bruce
in Ireland. His body was quartered, and distri-
buted for a public spectacle over that country :
his head was presented to Edward by John lord
Birmingham, the commander of the English
army. In the mean time Edward, who had sum-
moned a parliament to meet at Lincoln, was
obliged to prorogue it on account of the Scottish
invasion, and to assemble an army at York for
the defence of England. At Michaelmas it was
determined, in a parliament held at London,
that every city and town in England should fur-
nish a certain proportion of men completely
armed. Thus a considerable body of troops was
raised ; but, when they assembled at York, their
party animosities and mutual distrust rose to
such a height that a considerable number of
them were sent back to their habitations. In
1319 Edward, having- succeeded so well with the
court of Rome, made similar attempts with other
powers, to the prejudice of the Scottish nation.
Accordingly he requested the earl of Flanders to
prohibit the Scots from entering his country ; but
to this request he received for reply, that ' Flan-
ders was the common country of all men ; I can-
not prohibit any merchants from trafficking
thither,' said the earl, ' for such prohibition would
prove the ruin of my people.' Edward, on this,
once more determined to have recourse to war;
and with this view commanded his army to as-
semble at Newcastle-upon-Tyne, on the 24th of
July 1319 ; but first requested the prayers of the
clergy for success, and demanded from them a
sum of money by way of loan. Every thing
being now in readiness, the English army ap-
proached Berwick, then under the care of Walter,
grand steward of Scotland. This nobleman had
long apprehended an attack from the English,
and bad taken his means of defence accordingly.
The English however, confiding in their numbers,
made a general assault ; but were repulsed on
the 7th September, after an obstinate contest.
Their next attempt was on the side towards the
river. At that time the walls of Berwick were of
inconsiderable height ; and it was proposed to
bring a vessel close to them, whence the troops
might enter by a drawbridge. But the Scots
annoyed the assailants so much that they could
not bring this vessel within the proper distance;
and at the ebb of the tide it grounded, and was
burnt. The English had then recourse to a new-
invented engine which they called a sow. In
many particulars it resembled the testudo arietaria
of the ancients. It was a large fabric of timber
well-roofed, having stages within it, and in height
surpassing the wall of the town. It was moved
upon wheels, and served for the double purpose
of conducting the miners to the foot of the wall,
and armed men to the storm. But this machine
was counteracted by one constructed by John
Crab, a Flemish engineer. This was a kind of
moveable crane, by which great stones might be
raised, and then let fall upon the enemy. The
English made a general assault on the quarter
towards the sea, as well as on the land side ; so
that the garrison, exhausted by continual fatigue,
could scarcely maintain their posts. The great
engine moved on to the walls : at length a huge
stone struck it with such force that the beams
gave way, and, the Scots pouring down combus-
tibles upon it, it was burnt. The English, how-
ever, still continued the attack. The steward,
with a reserve of 100 men, went from post to
post, relieving those who were wounded or unfit
for combat. One soldier of the reserve only re-
mained with him when an alarm was given that
the English had burnt a barrier at the port called
St. Mary's, possessed themselves of the draw-
bridge, and fired the gate. The steward hastened
thither, called down the guard from the rampart,
ordered the gate to be set open, and rushed out
upon the enemy. A desperate combat ensued,
and continued till the close of the day, when the
English commanders withdrew their troops.
Notwithstanding this brave defence, it was evi-
dent that the town could not hold out long ; and
Robert could not, with any probability of suc-
cess, attack the fortified camp of the English.
He therefore determined to make a powerful di-
version in England. By order of the king 15,000
men entered England by the western marches,
and laid waste Yorkshire. The archbishop of
York hastily collected a numerous body of com-
mons and ecclesiastics, with whom he encoun-
tered the Scots at Mitton, near Borough-Bridge,
in the North Riding of Yorkshire : but the
English were instantly routed, and 3000 left
dead on the field : a great part of those who fled
perished in the river Swale. In this action
300 ecclesiastics are said to have lost their
lives.
The news of this successful inroad alarmed
the besiegers of Berwick. The barons whose
estates lay to the southward remote from the
Scottish depredations were eager for continuing
the siege. But they were opposed by those of
the north ; who were no less eager to abandon
the enterprise, and return to the defence of their
own country. With them the earl of Lancaster
concurred in opinion ; who, understanding that
his favorite manor of Pontefract was exposed to
the ravages of the Scots, departed with all his
adherents. Edward, upon this, drew off the
remainder of his army, and attempted to inter-
cept Randolph and Doughs ; but they eluded
him, and returned in safety to Scotland. The
failure of this last attempt induced Kdward seri-
ously to think of peace ; and accordingly a
truce was concluded on the 21st of December
1319; which interval of tranquillity the Scots
made use of to address a manifesto to the pope.
This was drawn up in a spirited manner, and
made a very considerable impression in the
C O T L A N D.
431
councils of the pontiff. The pope, seeing that
Robert would not be terrified into submission,
ordered Edward to make peace with him in the
l>est manner he could. A negociation was ac-
cordingly set on foot, which soon terminated in-
effectually ; the truce was not renewed, and in
1322 a mutual invasion took place. The Scots
penetrated into Lancashire by the western
marches ; and, after plundering the country, re-
turned home with an immense booty; while
Edward made great preparations for an expedi-
tion into Scotland, which took place in August.
In this, however, he was unsuccessful. Robert
had caused all the cattle to be driven off, and all
the effects of value to be removed ; fixing his
camp at Culross, on the north side of the Frith
of Forth. His orders for removing the cattle
were so punctually obeyed that the only prey
which fell into the hands of the English was a
single lame bull. Edward, however, penetrated
nearly as far as Edinburgh ; but, his provisions
being consumed, many of his soldiers perished
for want, and he was obliged at last to retire.
On their return, his soldiers burnt the abbeys of
llolyrood, Melrose, Dryburgh, &c., and killed
many of the monks ; but, when they returned to
England, and again enjoyed a plentiful living,
they indulged in such excesses as were produc-
tive of a great mortality. One English historian
says, almost one-half of the great army which
Edward had brought from England with him
were destroyed either by hunger or gluttony.
As soon as the English retired, they were pur-
sued by the Scots, who laid siege to the castle of
Norhain. Edward lay at the abbey of Biland
in Yorkshire, with a body of troops advantage-
ously posted near. The Scots attempted to sur-
prise the king, and it was with the utmost diffi-
culty that he escaped to York, leaving to the
enemy all his baggage and treasure. The Eng-
lish camp was supposed to be accessible only by
a narrow pass, but Douglas undertook to force
it, and Randolph presented himself as a volun-
teer in this dangerous service, under his friend
Douglas. The Highlanders and men of the
Isles climbed the precipice on which the English
camp stood, and the enemy were driven out
with great loss. The Scots pursued them to the
gates of York, wasted the country without con-
trol, and returned home unmolested. Edward,
disheartened by repeated losses, agreed to a ces-
sation of arms, from the 30th of March 1 323,
until the 12th of June 1336. It was stipulated
that, during its continuance, no new fortresses
should be erected in Cumberland, north of the
Tyne, or in the counties of Berwick, Roxburgh,
or Dumfries ; and by a singular article it was
provided that, ' Bruce and the people of Scot-
land might procure absolution from the pope ;
but, in case there was no peace concluded before
the expiration of the truce, that the sentence of
excommunication should revive.' The treaty
was ratified by Robert, as king of Scotland, 7th
of June 1323. Robert's next care was to recon-
cile himself to the church, and to obtain from
the pope the title of king, which had been so
long denied him; this at last, with difficulty, was
obtained. A son was born this year to the king
f Scotland ut Dunfermline, and named Daud.
But scarcely had this future hero come into the
world, when a rival began to appear. John
Baliol had lorn; been dead ; but left a son named
Edward, heir to his pretensions. The young
prince had resided on his paternal estate in Nor-
mandy, neglected and forgotten; but in 1324
was called to the court of England, for the pur-
pose of setting him up as a rival to young David
Bruce. The negociations for peace, however,
still went on ; but the commissioners made little
progress, by reason of the demands for feudal
sovereignty still made by the English. The re-
conciliation with the church was also broken off,
by the Scots keeping possession of Berwick.
Tnis had been taken during the papal truce; and
Robert chose still to lie under the sentence of
excommunication rather than to part with such
an important fortress.
In the beginning of 1327 Edward II. was
deposed and barbarously murdered. He was
succeeded by his son Edward III., then in his
fifteenth year, who renewed the negociations for
peace, and ratified the truce which his father had
made ; but hearing that the Scots had resolved
to invade England, if a peace was not imme-
diately concluded, he summoned his barons to
meet him in arms at Newcastle, and fortified
York. We are not informed why the Scots at
this time disregarded the truce ; however, on the
15th of June 1327, Douglas and Randolph in-
vaded England by the western marches, with an
army of 20,000 horsemen. Against them Ed-
ward led an army, consisting at the lowest cal-
culation of 30,000 men, who assembled at Dur-
ham on the 1 3th of July. The Scots proceeded
with the utmost cruelty, burning and destroying
every thing as they went along ; and on the
18th of the same month the English discovered
them by the smoke and flames which marked
their progress. They marched forward in order
of battle towards the quarter where the smoke
was perceived ; but, meeting with no enemy for
two days, they concluded that the Scots had re-
tired. Disencumbering themselves then of their
heavy baggage, they resolved by a forced march
to reach the river Tyne, and, by posting them-
selves on the north bank, to intercept the enemy
on his return. On the 20th of July the cavalry,
having left the infantry behind, crossed the river
at Halydon : but, before the rest of the army
could come up, the river was so swelled by sud-
den rains that it could no longer be forded ;
thus the English troops remained divided for
several days, without any accommodation for
quarters, and in the greatest want of provisions
and forage. The soldiers now began to murmur ;
and it was resolved again to proceed south-
wards. The king proclaimed a reward of lands,
to the value of £100 yearly for life, to the person
who should first discover the enemy 'on dry
ground, where they might be attacked;' and
many knights and esquires swam across the river
on this strange errand. The army continued its
march for three days without any news of the
Scots ; but on the fourth accounts of them were
brought by Thomas Rokesby, esq., who reported
that, ' the Scots had made him prisoner ; but
that their leaders understanding his business had
set him at liberty; saying, that they had remain-
432
SCOTLAND.
ed for eight days on the same ground, as ignorant
of the motions of the English as ttie English
were of theirs, and that they were desirous and
ready to combat.' With this man for their guide,
the English- soon came in view of the Scots.
They were advantageously posted on a rising
ground, having the river Were in front, and their
flanks secured by rocks and precipices. The
English dismounted and advanced, hoping to
allure the Scots from their strong post ; but in
vain. Edward then sent a herald to Randolph
and Douglas, with a message in the style of chi-
valry : ' Either,' says he, ' suffer me to pass the
river, and leave me room for ranging my forces ;
or do you pass the river, and I will leave you
room to range yours ; and thus shall we fight on
equal terms.' To this the Scottish commanders
answered, 'We will do neither. On our road
hither we have burnt and spoiled the country ;
and here we are fixed while to us it seems good,
if the king of England is offended, let him come
over and chastise us.' The armies continued in
sight of each other for two days ; after which
the English, understanding that their enemies
were distressed for provisions, resolved to main-
tain a close blockade, and to reduce them by fa-
mine. Next day, however, they were surprised
to find that the Scots had secretly decamped, and
taken post two miles up the river in ground still
stronger, and of more difficult access. The
English encamped opposite to them near Stan-
hope park. At midnight Douglas undertook a
most desperate enterprise. With 200 horsemen
he approached the English camp, and entered it
under the guise of a chief commander calling
the rounds. Having thus eluded the sentinels,
he passed on to the royal quarters, overthrew
every thing that opposed him, and furiously as-
saulted the king's tent. The domestics of Ed-
ward desperately defended their master ; and his
chaplain with many others of his household were
slain. However, the king himself escaped ; and
Douglas, disappointed of his prey, rushed
through the enemy, and effected a retreat with
inconsiderable loss. The following day the
English learned from a prisoner that orders had
been issued in the Scottish camp for all men to
hold themselves in readiness that evening to fol-
low the banner of Douglas; on which, appre-
hending an attack in the night, they prepared for
battle, lighting great fires, and keeping a strict
watch ; but in the morning they were informed
by two trumpeters, whom they had taken prison-
ers, that the Scots had decamped before mid-
night, and were returning to their own country.
This report they could scarcely credit, and the
army remained for some hours in order of bat-
tle : but at length some scouts, having crossed
the river, returned with certain intelligence that
the Scottish camp was deserted : which, when
Edward was assured of, he burst into tears ; for
the enterprise, which thus terminated in disap-
pointment and dishonor, had cost an immense
sum. His foreign auxiliaries in particular con-
sisted of heavy-armed cavalry ; and they were
now so much worn out that they could scarcely
move : the few living horses were become unser-
viceable, in a campaign of three weeks ; so that
they were obliged to procure horses to convey
them to the south of England. Edward, having
rested at Durham for some days, inarched to
fork, where he disbanded his army. Barbour, a
Scottish historian, relates that there was a morass
in the rear of the Scottish camp, which he calls
the two mile morass ; that the Scots made a way
over it with brushwood, removing it as they
went along, that the English might not pursue
them by the same way. The English narratives
are filled with descriptions of the strange ap-
pearance of the deserted camp of the Scots.
Their pursuers found, we are told, a number 01
skins stretched between stakes, which served for
kettles to boil their meat ; and for bread each
soldier carried along with him a bag of oatmeal,
of which he made cakes, toasting them upon
thin iron plates, which appear to have been part
of their armour. On the return of Douglas
and Randolph, the king led his army against the
eastern borders, and besieged the castle of Nor-
ham. However, in 1328, Edward, wearied out
with continued losses and disappointments, con-
sented to a perpetual peace between the two king-
doms on the condition — 1. That the stone on
which the kings of Scotland were wont to sit at
the time of their coronation, should be restored to
the Scots. 2. The king of England engaged to
employ his good offices at the papal court for
obtaining a revocation of all spiritual processes
depending before the holy see against the king of
Scots, or against his kingdom. 3. For these
causes, and to make reparation for the ravages
committed in England by the Scots, the king of
Scots was to pay 30,000 merks to the king of
England. 4. Restitution was to be made of the
possessions belonging to ecclesiastics in either
kingdom, whereof the war might have deprived
them. 5. But there was not to be any resti-
tution made of inheritances which had fallen
into the hands of the king of England or of
the king of Scots, by reason of the war be-
tween the two nations, or through the forfeiture
of former possessors. 6. Joanna, sister of the
king of England, was to be given in marriage to
David, the son and heir to the king of Scots ;
the king of Scots providing the princess in a
jointure of £'2000 yearly, secured on lands and
rents. 7. If either of the parties failed, in per-
forming these conditions, he was to pay £2000
of silver to the papal treasury. This peace, ra-
tified at Northampton, is styled ignominious by
the English historians, and the marriage of the
Scottish prince to the king of England's sister,
that base marriage ; because thus all pretensions
to sovereignty over Scotland were given up.
The marriage of the infant prince was celebrated
on the 12th of July 1328. On the 7th of June,
1329, died Robert Bruce, unquestionably the
greatest of the Scottish monarchs. His death
seems to have been occasioned by the excessive
fatigues of military service ; and his disease,
called by historians of those times a leprosy, was
probably an inveterate scurvy, occasioned by his
mode of living. He died at the age of fifty-five.
He was married to Isabella, daughter of Donald
the tenth earl of Mar ; by whom he had a
daughter named Marjory, married to Walter, the
grand steward of Scotland ; whose husband died
in 1326. The second wife of Robert was Elizu-
SCOTLAND.
433
beth, the daughter of Aymer de Burgh, earl of
Ulster. By her he had a son, David II.; a
daughter named Margaret, married to William
earl of Sutherland ; another, named "Matilda,
married to Thomas Isaac, esq. ; and Elizabeth,
married to Sir Walter Oliphant of Gask. Pie
had also a natural son named Robert. That
king Robert I. was a man of unquestionable vir-
tue and humanity, as well as unequalled in the
knowledge of the military art, is evident from
many particulars already related. The only
questionable part of his character is his severe
punishment of a conspiracy formed against him
in 1320; a relation of which, to avoid interrupt-
ing our detail of more important matters, we de-
ferred till now. — The chief of the conspirators
were William de Soulis, whose ancestor had been
a candidate for the crown ; the countess of
Sirathern, and some other persons of rank. The
countess discovered the plot ; after which Soulis
confessed the whole, and was punished with
perpetual imprisonment ; as well as the countess,
notwithstanding her having made the discovery,
('ilbert de Malyerb and John de Logie, both
knights, and Richard Brown, esq., were put to
death as traitors : but the person most lamented
v.-as Sir David de Brechin, for his bravery
styled the flower of chivalry. He was nephew
to the king, and had served with great reputation
against the Saracens. To him the conspirators,
after having exacted an oath of secrecy, revealed
their designs. He condemned their undertaking,
and refused to share in it ; but did not discover
it, on account of the oath he had taken. Yet for
this concealment he was tried as a traitor, con-
demned and executed, without regard to his per-
sonal merit or his relation to the king. The con-
spirators were tried before the parliament at
Scone in 1 320 ; and this session, in which so
much blood was shed, was long remembered
under the name of the black parliament.
After the death of Robert I. the administra-
tion was assumed by Randolph, in consequence
of an act passed in 1318, by which he was ap-
pointed regent in case of the king's death. In
his new character he behaved himself in a most
exemplary manner : and by impartially discharg-
ing the duties of his station, and rigidly adminis-
tering justice, he secured jnost perfectly the
public tranquillity. The severe exercise of jus-
tice was now rendered not only necessary but
indispensable. During a long course of war,
the people had been accustomed to plunder and
bloodshed ; and, having now no English ene-
mies to employ them, they robbed and murdered
one another. Randolph repressed these crimes
by making the counties liable for the robberies
committed within their bounds. He gave orders
for severely punishing all vagabonds, and
obliged them to work for their livelihood ; mak-
ing proclamation that no man should be ad-
mitted into any town or borough, who could not
earn his bread by his labor. These regulations
were attended with the most salutary effects. A
fellow who had secreted his own plough irons,
pretending that they were stolen, being detected
by the sheriff's officers, was instantly hanged. A
certain man, having killed a priest, went to
Rome, and obtained absolution from the pope ;
VOL. XIX.
after which he boldly returned to Scotland.
Randolph ordered him to be tried, and, on his
conviction, to be executed : ' because,' said he,
' although the pope may grant absolution from
the spiritual consequence of sin, he cannot screen
offenders from civil punishment.' King Robert,
just before his death, had desired that his heart
might be deposited in our Saviour's sepulchre at
Jerusalem ; and on this errand the great comman-
der, Douglas, was employed, who set sail in June,
1330, with a numerous and splendid retinue. He
anchored off Sluys in Flanders, the great empo-
rium of the Netherlands, where he expected to
find companions in his pilgrimage ; but, learn-
ing that Alphonso XI. the young king of Leon
and Castile, was engaged in a war with Osmyn
the Moor, he could not resist the temptation of
fighting against the enemies of Christianity. He
met with an honorable reception at the court of
Spain, and readily obtained leave to enter into
what was thought the common cause of Christ-
ianity. The Moors were defeated ; but Douglas,
giving way to his impetuous valor, pursued the
enemy too eagerly, and, throwing among them
the casket which contained the heart of his sove-
reign, cried out, ' Now pass thou onward as
thou wast wont; Douglas will follow thee or
die.' The fugitives rallied and surrounded
Douglas ; who, with a few of his followers, was
killed in attempting to rescue Sir Walter St.
Clair of Roslin. His body was brought back
to Scotland, and interred in the church of
Douglas. His countrymen styled him the good
Sir James Douglas. He was one of the greatest
commanders of the age; and is said to have
been engaged in seventy battles, fifty-seven of
which he gained, and was defeated in thirteen.
In November 1331 Edward Baliol began to
renew his pretensions to the crown of Scotland,
about the time that David II. and his consort
Johanna were crowned at Scone. This year
differences began also to arise with England. It
had been provided, by an article of the treaty of
Northampton, that ' Thomas lord Wake of Ledel,
Henry de Beaumont, called earl of Buchan, and
Henry de Percy, should be restored to their es-
tates, of which the king of Scots, by reason of the
war between the two nations, had taken posses-
sion.' This article had been executed with re-
spect to Percy, but not to the other two ; and,
though Edward had repeatedly complained of
this neglect, he obtained no satisfaction. Lord
Hales has some judicious remarks on this omis-
sion, which he ascribes to the political foresight
of Randolph. The disinherited barons now re-
solved to invade Scotland, though their force con
sisted of only 3000 infantry, and 400 men at arms.
Edward would not permit them to enter Scot-
land by the usual way, as he himself did not yet
choose openly to take part in their quarrel.
They were therefore obliged to take shipping,
and landed at a place called Ravenspur, or Ra-
vensburgh, at the mouth of the Humber, long
ago overwhelmed by the sea. Randolph, hav-
ing intelligence of the English preparations, had
marched an army to the frontiers of East Lo
thian ; but, being afterwards informed of the
naval armament, he marched northwards; but
died at Musselburgh, on the 20th of July 1332.
2 F
434
SCOTLAND
Donald, earl of Marr, a man whose only merit
consisted in his being relate J to the royal family,
was chosen to succeed him in the regency. Ed-
ward, in the mean time, fell upon a most curious
expedient to show the justice of his cause. In
March 1332 he had published a prohibition for
any person to infringe the treaty of Northampton :
yet the disinherited lords had been suffered to
embark, expressly for the purpose of invading
Scotland, after this prohibition was published.
After they were gone, Henry de Percy was em-
powered to punish those who should presume to
array themselves in contempt of his prohibition ;
and because he understood that the Scots were
arming, in order to repel those invaders who:r.
Edward had indirectly sent against them, he em-
powered Henry de Percy to arm against them.
On the 31st of July Edward Baliol and his as-
sociates landed in the neighbourhood of King-
horn, on the Forth ; routed the earl of Fife, who
opposed them; and marched next day to Dun-
fermline. Having then ordered his fleet to wait
for him at the mouth of the Tay, he proceeded
northwards, and encamped on the Miller's acre
at Forteviot, with the river Earn in front. Here
his situation was extremely dangerous, and his
destruction seemed inevitable. The earl of Marr
was encamped with a numerous army on the
opposite bank of the river Earn, near Duplin ;
and another, nearly as numerous, had advanced
from the south, through the Lothians and Stir-
lingshire, and fixed its quarters at Auchterarder,
eight miles west of Forteviot. Historians differ
as to the number of the two armies. Fordun
says that the regent had with him 30,000 men,
and the earl of March as many ; and that Baliol
had between 500 and 600 men at arms, that is,
horsemen completely armed. Hemingford reckons
each of the Scottish armies at 40,000, and Ba-
liol's at 500 armed men. Knyghton says that
Baliol, when he landed in Fife, had 300 armed
men, and 3000 more of different sorts ; but that
he had in all only 2500 men in his camp at
Earn. In this desperate situation the English
general formed a design of attacking the Scots
in their camp. They were directed to a ford by
Andrew Murray of Tullibardine. The Scots
kept no watch, but abandoned themselves to in-
temperance and riotous mirth ; while their ene-
mies, led by Alexander Mowbray, crossed the
river at midnight. Ascending a rising ground,
they came unperceived on the right flank of the
Scottish army, and made a dreadful slaughter.
At the first attack, young Randolph hasted with
300 men at arms to oppose the enemy ; and
being seconded by Murdoch earl of Monteith,
Alexander Fraser, and Robert Bruce, natural son
to the late king, he gave a check to the English,
and maintained the combat on equal terms. But
now the regent himself, "along with the whole
multitude, rushed forward to battle without the
least order; so that, "while the hindmost pressed
on, the foremost were thrown down and trodden
upon. The slaughter lasted many hours, and the
remains of this vast army were utterly dispersed.
Many men of eminence were killed ; among
whom were Donald earl of Marr, author of the
whole catastrophe; Thomas earl of Moray, Mur-
doch earl of Monteith K<>1,. rt carl of Carrick,
Alexander Fraser, and Robert Bruce. The
slaughter of the infantry and of the men at arms
was very great ; and the most probable accounts
make it 2000 men at arms, and upwards of
13,000 common soldiers. The loss of the I'.n/
lish was inconsiderable. The day after this vic-
tory, Baliol took possession of Perth ; and, ap-
prehending an attack from the earl of March,
caused the ditch to be cleared, and the town to
be fortified with palisadoes. The first informa-
tion which the earl received of this dreadful de-
feat was from a soldier, who fled mortally wound-
ed, and had time only to show his wounds, and
expire. The earl, on his arrival at the field of
battle, found a dreadful confirmation of the sol-
dier's intelligence ; but, instead of taking any
E roper measures, he and his men hurried on
eadlong to Perth, actuated only by a blind im-
pulse to revenge. At first they designed to as-
sault the place ; next they determined to reduce
it by famine. This, however, could not be done
unless the Scots had been masters at sea. One
John Crab, a Flemish engineer (who had distin-
guished himself by destroying the famous engine
called the sow at the siege of Berwick), had con-
tinued for many years to annoy the English on the
eastern coasts. After the blockade of Perth was
formed, he came with ten vessels to the month
of the Tay, where the English fleet was. and took
the ship belonging to Henry de Beaumont ; but
soon after all his ten vessels were burnt by the
English in a general engagement. After this the
blockade of Perth was raised, the earl of March
disbanded his army, and Edward Baliol was
crowned king of Scotland at Scone, on the 24th
of September 1332.
The new monarch was no sooner put in pos
session of the kingdom than he left Perth in the
hands of the earl of Fife, while he himself repair-
ed to the southern parts of the kingdom. But
the party of king David was far from being ex-
tinguished. Baliol was scarcely gone, when
Perth was surprised, and its fortifications razed,
by James Fraser, Simon Fraser, and Robert
Keith. The earl of Fife was made prisoner,
with his family and vassals. Andrew Murray of
Tullibardine, who had directed the English to a
ford on the Earn, was put to death as a traitor.
Such of the Scots as still adhered to the interest
of their infant prince chose Sir Andrew Murray
of Bothwell regent. He was a brave and active
man, but had not as yet sufficient force to attempt
any thing considerable. In the mean time. li.i-
liol behaved in a most scandalous manner. At
Roxburgh, he made a solemn surrender of the
liberties of Scotland; acknowledged Edward for
his liege lord ; and became bound to put him in
possession of the town, castle, and territory of
Berwick, and of other lands on the marches,
extending in all to the yearly value of £2000,
'on account,' as the instrument bears, S
great honor and emoluments which we have
procured through the sufferance of our lord tho
king, and by the powerful and acceptable aid
which we have received fiom his good subjects.*
He also proffered to marry the princess Johanna,
whom he considered as only betrothed to David
Bruce, and to add £500 to her jointure; an<l
this under the penalty of £10,000 to be appro-
SCOTLAND.
435
priated as a portion to the lady, or otherwise dis-
posed of for her behoof. He farther engaged to
provide for the maintenance of David Bruce as
the king of England should advise ; and, lastly,
he became bound to serve Edward in all his wars,
excepting in England, Wales, and Ireland, for
the space of a year together, with 200 men at
arms. Afterwards, Edward having engaged to
maintain him on the throne of Scotland, Baliol
bound himself to serve him in all his wars what-
ever. Though the greatest part of the nation
submitted to this shameful treaty, it roused the
indignation of those who wished well to their
country. John, the second son of Randolph,
now earl of Moray by the death of his brother ;
Archibald, the youngest brother of the renowned
Douglas ; together with Simon Fraser, assem-
bled a body of horsemen at Moffat in Annan-
dale ; and, suddenly traversing the country,
assaulted Baliol unexpectedly at Annan. His
brother Henry made a gallant resistance for some
time; but was at last overpowered with numbers,
and killed, with several other persons of distinc-
tion. Baliol himself escaped almost naked, with
scarcely a single attendant, and fled to England.
After his departure, the Scots began to make de-
predations on the English frontiers. Edward
issued a proclamation, in which he solemnly
averred that the Scots, by their hostile depre-
dations, had violated the peace of Northampton.
Baliol, in the meantime, being joined by some
English barons, returned to Scotland ; took and
burnt a castle where Robert de Colville com-
manded ; and, establishing his quarters in the
neighbourhood of Roxburgh, began to make pre-
parations for besieging Berwick. Just after his
arrival, Archibald Douglas, with 3000 men, in-
vaded England by the western marches, plunder-
ed the country, and carried off much booty ; in
revenge for which, Sir Anthony de Lucy made
an inroad into Scotland, defeated and took pri-
soner Sir William Douglas, celebrated in his-
tory by the appellation of the knight of Liddes-
dale, whom Edward caused to be put in irons.
About the same time, Sir Andrew Murray the
regent attacked Baliol, with a view to discomfit
him before the reinforcements which he expected
out of England could arrive. A sharp conflict
ensued at Roxburgh, in which the regent, attempt-
ing to rescue a soldier, was taken prisoner ; and
thus Scotland was at once deprived of its two
ablest commanders. Archibald Douglas was now
declared regent ; and Edward prepared to invade
Scotland. He ordered possession to betaken of
the Isle of Man in his own name ; and soon after
made it over to Sir William Montague, who had
some claim of inheritance in it. The chief design
of Edward, however, was to obtain possession of
Berwick, which had been ceded to him by Baliol.
This appeared to the Scots a place of no less
importance than it did to Edward ; and there-
fore they took all the precautions in their power
to prevent the loss of it. The earl of March was
appointed to command the castle, and Sir Wil-
liam Keith the town. The Scots made an ob-
stinate defence. At length the regent, with a
numerous army, appeared in the neighbourhood.
He endeavoured to convey succors into the
town, or to provoke the enemies to quit the ad-
vantage of the ground, and engage in battle.
But all his efforts were in vain ; the English
obstructed every passage, and stood on the de-
fensive. The regent then entered Northumber-
land, wasted the country, and even assaulted
Bamborough castle, where Philippa the young
queen of England resided. He fondly imagined
that Edward III. would have abandoned the
siege of Berwick, as his father did, in similar
circumstances. Edward nevertheless persevered
in his enterprise. During a general assault, the
town was set on fire, and great part of it con-
sumed. The inhabitants having experienced
the evils of a siege, and dread ing the worse evils
of a storm, implored the earl of March and Sir
William Keith to seek terms of capitulation. A
truce was obtained ; and it was agreed that the
town and castle should be delivered up on terms
fair and honorable, unless succors arrived be-
fore the hour of vespers on the 19th of July.
By the treaty, Sir William Keith was allowed an
interview with the regent. He found him with
his army in Northumberland ; urged the neces-
sity of his return ; and showed him that Ber-
wick, if not instantly relieved, was lost for ever.
Persuaded by his importunities, the regent re-
solved to combat the English, and either to save
Berwick or lose the kingdom. On the afternoon
of the 19th of July the regent prepared for bat-
tle. He divided his army into four bodies. The
first was led by John earl of Moray, the son of
Randolph ; but, as he was young and inexperi-
enced in war, James and Simon Fraser, soldiers
of approved reputation, were joined with him in
the command. The second body was led by the
steward of Scotland, a youth of sixteen, under
the inspection of his uncle Sir James Stewart of
Rosyth. The third body was led by the regent
himself, having with him the earl of Carrick and
other barons of eminence. The fourth body, or
reserve, appears to have been led by Hugh earl
of Ross. The numbers of the Scottish army on
that day are variously reported by historians.
The continuator of Hemingford says, that, be-
sides earls and other lords or other great barons,
there were fifty-five knights, 1100 men at arms,
and 13,500 of the commons lightly armed,
amounting in all to 14,655. With him Knygh-
ton concurs, when his narrative is cleared from
the errors of transcribers. The English were
advantageously ]K>sted on a rising ground at
Halydon, with a marshy hollow in their front.
Baliol had the command of one of the wings.
It had been provided by the treaty of capitula-
tion ' That Berwick should be considered as re-
lieved, in case 200 men at arms forced their
passage into the town.' This the Scottish men
at arms attempted ; but Edward, aware of their
purpose, opposed them in person, and repulsed
them with great slaughter. The Scottish army
rushed on to a general attack ; but they had to
descend into the marshy hollow before mounting
the eminences of Halydon. After having strug-
gled with the difficulties of the ground, and after
having been incessantly galled by the English
archers, they reached the enemy. Although fa-
tigued and disordered, they fought as it became
men who had conquered under Robert Bruce.
The English, with equal valor, had great advan-
2 F 2
436
SCO T L A N D
tages of situation, and were better disciplined.
The earl of Ross led the reserve to attack in
flank that wiiiic where Baliol commanded ; but
he was repulsed and slain. There fell with
him Kenneth earl of Sutherland, and Murdoch
earl of Monteith. In the other parts of the field
the events were equally disastrous. The regent
received a mortal wound, and the Scots every
where gave way. In the field, and during a
pursuit for many miles, the number of slain and
prisoners was so great, that few of the Scottish
army escaped. Besides the earls of Ross, Su-
therland, and Monteith, there were among the
slain Malcolm earl of Lenox, an aged baron, who
had been one of the foremost to repair to the
standard of Robert Bruce, and whose exertions
were for his country ; Alexander Bruce earl of Car-
rick, who atoned for the short defection from the
family of his benefactor ; John Campbell earl of
Atnole, nephew of the late king ; James Fraser,
and Simon Fraser ; John Graham, Alexander
Lindesay, Alan Stewart, and many other persons
of eminent rank. The Steward had two uncles,
John and James. John was killed, and James
mortally wounded and made prisoner. Two
other Stewarts fought at this battle ; viz. Alan of
Dreghorn, paternal ancestor of king Charles I.
and James of Rosyth, maternal ancestor of Oliver
Cromwell. The regent, mortally wounded, and
abandoned on the field of battle, only lived to
see his army routed and himself a prisoner. This
victory was obtained with very inconsiderable
loss. The English historians say, that on their
side there were killed one knight, one esquire,
and twelve foot soldiers. Nor will this appear
altogether incredible, as the English ranks re-
mained unbroken, and their archers, at a secure
distance, incessantly annoyed the Scottish in-
fantry. According to capitulation, the town and
castle of Berwick surrendered. The English
king took twelve hostages for the fidelity of the
citizens. Thus was the whole of Scotland re-
duced under the subjection of Baliol, excepting
a few fortresses; so that it became necessary to
provide for the safety of the young king and
queen. Accordingly, they were conveyed to
France, where they were honorably entertained.
Meanwhile, Baliol employed himself in making
new concessions to his liege lord Edward ; and
in 1 334 the work of submission was completed
by a solemn instrument drawn up by Baliol, in
which he surrendered great part of the Scottish
dominions, to be for ever annexed to the crown
of England. In this instrument Baliol said, that
' he had formerly become bound to make a grant
to Edward of lands on the marches, to the amount
of £2000 lands ; that the Scottish parliament
had ratified his obligation ; and that he had ac-
cordingly surrendered Berwick and its territory ;
and now, for completely discharging his obliga-
tion, he made an absolute surrender to the Eng-
lish crown of the forests of Jedburgh, Selkirk,
and Etterick; of the counties of Roxburgh,
Peebles, and Dumfries ; together with the county
of Edinburgh, and the constabularies of Linlith-
gow and Haddington.' This extraordinary sur-
render was made with so much precipitation,
that Baliol forgot to except his own private es-
tate out of it. This, however, was restored to
him by Edward. At the same time, Baliol did
homage, and swore fealty, ' for the whole king-
dom of Scotland arid the isles adjacent.'
A quarrel now arose among the disinherited
lords, to whom this revolution had been owinii.
which produced the worst consequences to the
interest of Baliol. The brother of Alexander
Mowbray died, leaving only daughters. Mow-
bray having claimed a preference to his nieces,
Baliol put him in possession of the inheritance :
when Henry Beaumont earl of Buchan, and
David Strathbogie or Hastings, earl of Athol,
espoused the cause of the ladies ; but, perceiving
that their solicitations were not heard, they left
the court in disgust, and retired to their castles
August 1334. Baliol soon perceived his error
in offending these two powerful lords ; and, to
regain their favor, dismissed Mowbray, and
conferred on Da?id Strathbogie the whole es-
tates of the young Steward of Scotland. Thus
he alienated the affections of Mowbray, and
added to the influence of the earl of Athol, who
was by far too powerful before. About this
time Sir Andrew Murray of Bothwell, having
regained his freedom, began to assemble tlie
friends of liberty, and was immediately joined
by Mowbray. In a moment every thing; was in
confusion. Geoffery Mowbray, governor of
Roxburgh, revolted; Henry Beaumont was be-
sieged in his castle of Dundarc by Murray and
Mowbray, and forced to surrender, but was al-
lowed to depart into England. Richard Talhot,
endeavouring to pass into England with a body
of troops, was defeated and taken prisoner by
Sir William Keith of Galston. The Steward of
Scotland, who had lain concealed in the Isle of
Bute since the battle of Halydon, passed over to
the castle of Dunbarton, which was still remaining:,
to king David. With the assistance of Doupii
Campbell, of Lochow, he made himself master
of the castle of Dunoon in Cowal. His tenants
of the isle of Bute attacked and stew Alan Lile
the governor, and presented his head to their
master. John the son of Gilbert, governor of
the castle of Bute, was made prisoner in the ac-
tion. He ordered the garrison to surrender, and
attached himself to the Scottish interest. En-
couraged by these successes, the Steward entered
his ancient inheritance of Renfrew, and com-
pelled the inhabitants to acknowledge the sove-
reignty of David. Godfrey Ross, the governor
of Ayrshire, submitted to the Steward. The
earl of Moray returned from France, whither he
had fled after the battle of Halydon, and was
acknowledged regent along with the Steward.
The earl, having raised a body of troops, marched
against the earl of Athol, compelled him to re-
tire into Lochaber, and at last to surrender;
after which he embraced the party of the con-
querors. Baliol was now obliged to retire again
into England, to solicit assistance from Edward ;
and this was readily granted. Edward himself
took the field at a very unfavorable season for
militnry enterprises. His army was divided into
two parts. With the one he wasted Lothian,
while Baliol did the like in Annandale with the
other ; and, in the mean time, Patrick earl of
March renounced his allegiance to England ;
sensible that, though the kings of England main-
SCOTLAND.
437
tained him in an independency dangerous to
Scotland, they wou d never permit him to be-
come formidable in a country which they them-
selves possessed. The year 1335 is remarkable
for the siege of Lochlevon castle by the English,
tinder John de Strivelin. This fort was built on
a small island, very difficult of access. The
English commander erected a fort in the ceme-
tery of Kinross ; and at the lower end of the
lake, whence runs the river Leven, he raised a
strong and lofty bulwark, by which he hoped to
lay the island under water, and oblige the garri-
son to surrender. But four Scottish soldiers,
having approached the bulwark undiscovered,
pierced it so dexterously that the waters, rushing
out with a prodigious force, overflowed part of
the English camp ; and the garrison, sallying
out during the confusion, stormed and plundered
the fort at Kinross. At this time, the English
commander, with many of his soldiers, happened
to be absent at Dunfermline, celebrating the fes-
tival of St. Margaret. On his return, he swore
that he would never desist till he had taken the
place, and put the garrison to the sword ; how-
ever, his utmost efforts were at last baffled, and
he was obliged, notwithstanding his oath, to de-
sist. In the mean time, the regents assembled a
parliament at Dairsy, near Cupar in Fife; but
no plan of defence could be determined upon,
from the animosities and factions among the
barons. Through the mediation of the French,
terms of peace were proposed ; but, being re-
jected by the English, Edward again invaded
Scotland, cruelly ravaging the country with one
army, while Baliol and the earl of Warren did
the same with another. Soon after this invasion,
count Guy of Namur landed at Berwick with a
considerable number of men at arms in the ser-
vice of the English. He advanced to the neigh-
bourhood of Edinburgh ; but was defeated and
taken prisoner by the earls of March and Mo-
ray, and Sir Alexander Ramsay. In this en-
gagement one Richard Shaw, a Scottish esquire,
was singled out by a combatant in the army of
count Guy, and both pierced each other with
their spears ; the stranger, being stripped, was
discovered to be a woman. The earl of Moray
treated Guy with the greatest respect, not only
allowing him and the remainder of his troops to
depart from Scotland without molestation, but
even attending him to the borders, accompanied
by William Douglas and his brother James. On
his return, William de Pressen, warden of the
castle and forest of Jedburgh, attacked and de-
feated his party ; James Douglas was killed, the
earl himself taken prisoner, and carried into
England. Thus was the Scottish nation once
more reduced to the brink of ruin. Alexander
and Geoffery Mowbray, and some others, pre-
tending powers from ' the earl of Athol, and
Robert the Steward of Scotland,' concluded a
treaty with Edward at Perth ; the substance of
which was, that all the Scots should receive
pardon, and have their fees, lands, and offices
restored, excepting those who by common assent
in parliament should be excluded. The liber-
ties of the church, and the ancient laws and
usages of Scotland, were to remain in full force.
Al! offices were to be fi!l<:d with Scotsmen, ex-
cepting that the king should appoint whom he
pleaded within his regalities.
Ine earl of Athol now began to persecute
with the utmost fury those who wished well to
the freedom of Scotland. With 3000 men he
besieged the castle of Kildrummy, which had
hitherto been the great refuge of king David's
party. Sir Andrew Murray of Bothwell re-
solved to attempt the rescue of his wife and
family, who were shut up in it. With 1100 men
he surprised Athol in the forest of Kilblain.
The earl's men, seized with a panic, fled ; on
which their commander, refusing to accept of
quarter, was killed. Sir Andrew Murray then
assembled a parliament at Dunfermline, where
he was immediately appointed regent. In 1336
the king of England, perceiving that the Scots
were taken under the patronage of France, re-
solved to invade their country, and crush them
at once before they could have assistance from
their allies. In this expedition he penetrated as
far as Inverness ; but the Scots, under Sir An-
drew Murray, avoided a general action; so that
Edward could effect nothing of consequence.
The inhabitants of Aberdeen attacked one Tho-
mas Rosheme, who landed at Dunottar. They
were defeated ; but Rosheme fell in the action.
Edward chastised the vanquished severely, and
burned the town. He then began to repair the
castles whose fortifications had been demolished
by king Robert. He put in a state of defence
the castles of Dunottar, Kinclevin, Lawrieston,
Stirling, Bothwell, Edinburgh, and Roxburgh ;
greatly augmented the fortifications of Perth,
and left a considerable body of troops in the
place. The Scots reduced these castles as soon
as Edward was departed; and in 1337, under
Sir Andrew Murray, invaded Cumberland. No
great exploits, however, were now performed on
either side. Edward, making preparations for
invading France, had little leisure to attend to
the affairs of Scotland ; and the Scots, divided
among themselves, and destitute of those leaders
under whom they had acquired so much glory,
could not now annoy their enemies. The most
remarkable transaction was the siege of the
castle of Dunbar, belonging to the earl of
March. The English commander was the earl
of Salisbury. The earl of March was absent ;
but his wife, the daughter of Randolph, com-
monly called Black Agnes, undertook to de-
fend it in her husband's absence. The English
again employed their huge machine called a sow,
mentioned in our account of the siege of Ber-
wick : it met with the same fate as formerly ; a
huge stone, let fall upon it from the top of the
walls, crushed it to pieces. The English, baffled
in every attack, turned the siege into a blockade ;
bjut, Sir Alexander Ramsay having entered it with
forty resolute men, the garrison made a sally,
and cut in pieces the advanced guard of the
enemy. The English, disheartened by so many
misfortunes, abandoned the enterprise. In 1338
Sir Andrew Murray the regent died, and was
succeeded in his office by Robert the Steward of
Scotland. In 1339 he reduced the town of
Perth and the castle of Stirling ; and gained
over to the Scottish interest William Bullock,
governor of the castle of Coupar : after which.
438
SCOTLAND.
having expelled the enemy from every post north
of the Forth, he employed himself in settling the
affairs of the nation. In 1341 the castle of
Edinburgh was surprised by Sir William Bul-
lock. According to his appointment, one Wal-
ter Currie of Dundee privately received into his
ship the knight of Liddesdale, with William
Fraser, Joachim of Kinbuch, and 200 resolute
men. Currie cast anchor in Leith road, pre-
tending to be an English shipmaster, who had a
cargo of wine and provisions, with which he
proposed to furnish the commander of the castle.
His barrels and hampers were brought to the
castle-gate, and suddenly thrown down in such a
manner as to obstruct the shutting of it. Currie
and his men then slew the sentinels ; and the
knight of Liddesdale, with a party wiio lurked
in the neighbourhood, rushed in, overpowered
the garrison, and made themselves masters of
the place. On the 4th of March, this year, the
king and queen arrived from France, and landed
at Bervie in Kincardineshire. In 1342 Sir Alex-
ander Ramsay took the strong fortress of Rox-
burgh ; for which important service the king
bestowed on him the charge of sheriff of Teviot-
dale, then held by William Douglas of Liddes-
dale. The king's liberality proved fatal to Ram-
say, for from that time Douglas became his im-
placable enemy ; and having, after a pretended
reconciliation, unexpectedly surprised him with
three of his friends, he put these instantly to
death, carrying off Ramsay himself to his castle
of the Hermitage, where he caused him to be
starved in a most barbarous manner. The un-
happy man was confined in a room, over which
was a heap of wheat; a few grains of which
were let fall every day though a hole, not as
many as would support life, but as would pro-
tract it for a time, and make him longer sensible
of the agonies of hunger ; in this miserable
situation he survived seventeen days. About the
same time, Sir William Bullock was put to death
by Douglas in a similar manner ; nor was king
David in a capacity to punish such atrocious
cruelties. In the mean time David, having
raised a powerful army, prepared to take a
severe revenge of the English, from whom he
had suffered so much. Edward was then in
France, but commanded Baliol to raise all the
militia beyond the Trent : which order, however,
produced but little effect ; so much was the
mean-spirited prince despised by the English.
David invaded and ravaged Northumberland;
but was obliged to raise the siege of Newcastle,
which was commanded by Sir John Nevil, an
excellent officer. Exasperated at this repulse,
David entered the bishopric of Durham, which
he ravaged in the most cruel manner. However,
on the approach of Edward with a powerful
army, the Scots retired ; and a two years truce
was agreed upon. This pacification was but
short-lived. In 1345 the Scots again prepared
to invade England, while Edward took all ne-
cessary measures for opposing them ; but they
ravaged Westmoreland, and burnt several towns.
The year ended with a new truce, and hostilities
wtre not renewed till 1346, when David entered
Kiiuland with an army of 50,000 men His first
'•\ploit was the taking of the fortress of Liddel,
awl massacring all who:n he found in it. The
commander, Sir Walter Selby, capitulated .vith
a Scottish knight for his life ; but, the bargain
being disapproved of by David, he barbarously
ordered two of Selby's sons to be strangled in
his presence, and then the father's head to be
cut off. Thence the Scots marched to Lancroft,
which they plundered ; then, passing into Nor-
thumberland, they pillaged the priory of Ilexham,
but spared the town, to serve as a magazine.
Three other towns, Corbridge, Durham, and
Darlington, were spared for the same reason. In
his march to Durham, he would have made the
county a desert, had not some of the monks paid
him a contribution of £1000 to spare their es-
tastes : however, according to Knyghton, every
Englishman who fell into David's hands was put
to death, unless he could redeem his life by
paying threepence. To put a stop to the cruel-
ties of this invader, the queen of England, in
her husband's absence, assembled a powerful
army, which was divided into four bodies ; the
first commanded by lord Henry Percy ; the
second by the archbishop of York ; the third by
the bishop of Lincoln, the lord Mowbray, and Sir
Thomas Rokeby ; and the fourth and principal
division by Edward Baliol. The king of Scot-
land headed a chosen battalion, of the flower of
his nobility, and the French auxiliaries. The
high steward of Scotland headed the second line ;
and the third was commanded by the earls of
Moray and Douglas. While the English were
approaching, lord Douglas and Sir David Gra-
ham skirmished with them, but were defeated
with the loss of 500 men. The general engage-
ment began between the archers on each side,
but, the English being superior in the use of the
bow, the steward of Scotland advanced to the
relief of his countrymen. The English archers, un-
able to bear his attack, fell back upon lord Henry
Percy's division, which was thus put in confu-
sion, and would have been totally defeated, had
not Baliol advanced to their relief with a body
of 4000 horse. The steward was then obliged
to retire; by which means the flank of that di-
vision commanded by David, and which was
then engaged with another line of the English,
was left exposed to an attack. Baliol perceived
the advantage ; and, without pursuing the
steward, attacked the king's division, which was
immediately cut in pieces. David was left with
about eighty noblemen and gentlemen, but still
maintained the fight with obstinacy ; nor would
he yield, even when wounded in the head \\ iih
an arrow, expecting to be delivered by the
steward, and that line of his army which was
still entire under the lords Moray and Douglas.
At last, finding himself totally overpowered, he
attempted to retreat, but was overtaken by a
party under one John Copeland. This captain,
endeavouring to seize the king, had two of his
teeth struck out by a blow of his gauntlet ; but
at last the king was obliged to give up his sword,
and surrender himself. After he was taken,
Baliol attacked and totally routed that division
of the Scottish army which had hitherto re-
mained entire under the lords Moray and
Douglas. In this battle the Scots lost a great
number of their nobility, and 15,000 soldiers.
Many persons of distinction were also taken
along with the king ; ami had it not been th.it
SCOTLAND.
439
the escape of the Scots was favoured by the
avarice of the English soldiers, who neglected
the pursuit to plunder, scarcely a single Scots-
111. in would have returned.
David was carried to the castle of Bambo-
rough, where he was kept with so much privacy
that for some time it was not known where he
was, or that he had been taken prisoner. As soon
as the truth was known, the queen of England
demanded the royal prisoner from Copeland;
but the latter positively refused to part with him
even to the queen, unless she could produce an
order to that purpose under Edward s hand and
seal. This resolute behaviour was resented by
the queen, and a complaint made to the king ;
in consequence of which Copeland was sum-
moned to appear before Edward, when he re-
signed David to the custody of lord Nevil. The
English monarch, then in France, approved of
all that he had done, rewarded him with £500
u-yeur, and sent him back to England honored
with knighthood. David was then escorted by
Copeland, attended by 20,000 men, from the
castle of Ogle in Northumberland, till lord
Nevil, by indenture, delivered him to Sir Tho-
mas llokeby sheriff of Yorkshire. In the
same pompous manner he was conducted all the
way to London, which he entered on a black
courser. lie was received in the capital with
the greatest solemnity by the lord mayor and
aldermen, the city companies under arms lining
all the streets through which he passed, and the
houses being loaded with spectators who ex-
pressed a generous concern for his captivity.
Being arrived at the tower, he was delivered, by
indenture likewise, to the custody of the con-
stable, lord John Darcy, on the 2d of January,
1347. Baliol, now encouraged by the misfortune
of his rival, made an effort once more to establish
himself on the throne of Scotland; and, before
the end of the year, reduced the castles of Her-
mitage and Roxburgh, the forest of Etteric, the
Merse, with the counties of Annandale, Teviot-
dale, and Tweeddale. The Scots continued
faithful to their king, notwithstanding his mis-
fortune, and chose the steward for the guardian
of the kingdom. He behaved with a prudence
equal to the high station he filled ; but the pro-
gress of Baliol was so rapid that it is scarcely
probable he could have maintained his ground,
had not Edward again consented to a truce;
which, however, seems to have been ill observed
on the part of the Scots. In fact, though both
the Scottish and English historians are silent as
to particulars, we find that, about the end of
1348, all Scotland was recovered out of the
hands of the English, excepting Berwick, Rox-
burgh, Hermitage, and Lanark, which was part
of Baliol's hereditary estate, and defended by
him with an army. The Scottish historians in-
form us that the English, in revenge for the da-
mages done to their country by the breach of the
peace, proclaimed a tournament and other mi-
litary exercises at Berwick, to which they invited
the Scots; but, in their way thither, the latter fell
into an ambuscade and were all cut in pieces.
The years 1349 and 1350 were remarkable only
for a dreadful plague which invaded Scotland,
after ha -ing ravaged the continent of Europe.
According to Fordun, one-third of the people of
Scotland perished at this time. The patients'
flesh swelled exceedingly, and they died in two
days' illness ; but the mortality chiefly affected
the middling and lower ranks. The same dread-
ful calamity continued throughout the years
1351 and 1352; occasioning a cessation of arms
not only in Scotland, but throughout all Europe.
All this time king David remained a prisoner in
England; for, though several treaties had been
proposed, they had come to nothing, as Edward
insisted upon being indemnified for the ravages
the Scots had committed in his territories. At
last it was proposed that the king of Scotland
should be set at liberty, on paying 90,000 merks
for his ransom, by equal proportions, within nine
years ; with other conditions seemingly not un-
reasonable, but which we need not specify, as
the whole were rejected by the Scottish nobility ,
and, in 1355, war was recommenced with Eng-
land, at the instigation of France, who sent
40,000 crowns to Scotland to defray the ex-
penses. With this sum the guardian, having
raised an army, once more took the field ; but
not before the English had destroyed the Lo-
thians and Douglasdale. A battle was fought on
Nisbet Moor ; in which the English, being drawn
into an ambuscade, were totally defeated. The
next attempt of the Scots was against Berwick,
which they designed to surprise by an escalade.
They met, however, with such a vigorous resis-
tance, that many persons of distinction were
killed. However, the attack proved successful ;
but the acquisition was of no importance as the
castle held out. Edward, in the mean time,
hearing of the loss of the town, hurried back
from France to London. Here he staid but
three days, and marched northward to raise the
siege. He reached Durham on the 23rd of De-
cember, 1355, where he appointed all his mili-
tary tenants to meet him on the 1st of January,
1356. On the 14th he arrived before Berwick,
which was instantly retaken ; but the Scots were
allowed to return home. Baliol now perceiving
that Edward meant not to establish him on the
throne of Scotland, but to retain in his own
possession as many places of that country as he
could, came to the resolution of giving up
quietly to the king of England all his claims to
Scotland. This indeed was only a form, as he
was not then possessed of any part of it. How-
ever, the ceremony was performed at Roxburgh ;
and Baliol presented his crown and some earth
and stones by way of investiture. Baliol, in re-
turn, was to have a revenue of £2000 a-year ;
and, as Edward was at the head of an excellent
army, he had little doubt of forcing the Scots
to submit. The affairs of Scotland were now in
a very critical situation, and it was necessary to
gain time. Edward was therefore amused with
a negociation ; and to this he the more willingly
listened, as he was waiting for his fleet, from
which he had great expectations. A little time,
however, discoTered the deceit. The Scots
plainly told Edward that they would die rather
than submit to his demands ; and he, in return,
threatened a dreadful revenge. His fleet in the
mean time arrived in the Frith of Forth ; the
mariners destroyed and pillaged all that was
440
SCOTLAND.
within their reach, without sparing even the sa-
cred edifices, carrying off the statues of the
blessed virgin, loading the monks with chains,
and committing every kind of sacrilege. Ed-
ward had by this time marched as far as Had-
dington, but was obliged to receive provisions
all the way from his fleet ; for the Scots had de-
solated the country. During his march his
army was harassed, and his foragers cut off, so
that he was reduced to extreme distress ; and at
last, his fleet being totally destroyed by a storm,
he was obliged to return to England. In the
mean time the prince of Wales, who had been
left by his father to carry on the war in France,
defeated and took prisoner John king of France
at the battle of Poictiers. In this battle were
3000 Scots, who had gone over as auxiliaries to
the French monarch, and who suffered ex-
tremely. However the success of Edward, in-
stead of rendering him haughty, seemed to have
a contrary effect ; and, by the mediation of pope
Innocent V., a truce for two years was concluded
with France, in which the Scots were compre-
hended. During this interval the ransom of the
king of Scots was settled at 100,000 merks, to
be paid in ten years ; for which twenty hostages
were to be given. In consequence of this
treaty, David obtained his liberty in 1358, and
Edward laid aside all hopes of ever subduing
Scotland. As for Baliol, he was now sunk in
oblivion ; and it is not known what became of
him, or when he died. David, though restored
to liberty, found himself greatly embarassed with
the payment of such a large sum for his ransom ;
the kingdom of Scotland being then in a most
miserable and exhausted condition. After send-
ing his queen, and going into England himself,
he could obtain no greater favor than a respite
of a few months for the payment of the second
moiety ; so that he was at last constrained to ask
assistance from France. This could scarcely be
expected in the distressed situation of that king-
dom ; however, it was at last agreed that 60,000
merks should be paid to Scotland, in case the
Scots would consent to renew the war the fol-
lowing year. Neither party, however, kept their
word ; and David, being still greatly distressed
about the remainder of his ransom, at last en-
tered into a very extraordinary negociation with
Edward, by which he consented that the king of
England should be his successor to the throne of
Scotland. But this negociation was defeated
through the invincible hatred which the Scots
bore to an English governor. David then, being
entirely unable to discharge the remainder of his
ransom, was obliged to enter into a new treaty;
by which the kingdom of Scotland became in-
debted to Edward in the sum of £100,000 ster-
ling, to be paid by equal proportions within
twenty-five years, during which there should be
a truce within the two nations. From this time
we meet with little more of any moment in the
reign of David. After the death of his queen
Johanna, the sister of Edward, he married a
Scottish woman of mean birth, named Margaret
Ix>gie ; but by neither of his wives had he any
children. Queen Margaret he divorced on what
pretence is not known; but she left the king-
dom, and complained personally to the pope,
who treated her as David's lawful wife, and en
joined him to receive her as such under the most
severe penalties ; but Margaret never returned
to Scotland, and, on the 22d of February, 1371,
David himself died, leaving the kingdom to his
nephew Robert Stewart, the first of that family
who sat on the throne of Scotland.
On the accession of Robert II. an assembly of
the states was held, in which it was resolved
that he should be crowned at Scone; and, to pre-
vent all future disputes concerning the succes-
sion, a particular act was framed, by which the
kingdom was secured to Rodert and his heirs.
Being thus established on the throne, he endea-
voured to renew the war with the English, to re-
cover from them the town of Berwick, and some
other places on the borders. In this, however,
he failed ; and, as £56,000 of David's ransom
still remained unpaid, Robert bound himself to
discharge it at the rate of 4000 marks every mid-
summer. He then proposed an alliance with
France; but, the terms demanded by that king-
dom being that Scotland should be obliged
to make war with England whenever France
should require it, Robert would not consent
to such a condition. A new treaty, there-
fore, was entered into, by which it was pro-
vided that neither Scotland nor France should
be obliged to make war with England ; and,
by another clause, that the dispensation or
authority even of the pope himself should
never free the kings or kingdoms of I" ranee and
Scotland from the obligations they lay under
to assist one another as often as required, in
opposition to the kingdom of England. In case
of a competition for the crown of Scotland, the
king of France and his heirs were to take care
that no English influence was used; but shou <l
with all his power defend and assist the kirr*
established by the Scotch laws. Lastly, it was
agreed that no Frenchman should ever serve for
wages or otherwise against Scotland, nor any
Scotsman against France. This last article oc-
casioned a recal of all the Scots from the English
armies, which Edward looked upon to be a
prelude to invasion. He accordingly issued
writs for assembling all the militia in the north
of England. At this time an invincible hatred
subsisted between the neighbouring people of
both nations, which extended not only through
the lower ranks, but the higher classes also. The
inhabitants of the borders, indeed, paid very
little regard to the orders of their respective sove-
reigns ; so that hostilities .were committed by
them daily upon each other, even when then
peace between the nations. They had established
with one another certain conventions, which have
been since collected, by the name of Border
laws : the families of Douglas and Percy, and
their adherents in particular, whose estates lay
contiguous to one another, were at perpetual
variance. It had been common for the borderers
of both kingdoms, during a truce, to frequent
each other's fairs : and a servant of the carl of
March had been killed in a fray about this
time at Roxburgh, which was still in tne hands
of the English. Justice for this murder was de-
manded from lord Percy, but he slighted tlv
complaint. On this the earl of March, with \.\<
SCOTLAND.
441
rother the earl of Moray, assembling their fol-
lowers, entered the next fair that was held in
Roxburgh, plundered and burnt the town, and
killed all the En-jlish who fell into their hands.
The English borderers were ordered to lay waste
the lands of the earl of March ; but in their way
thither destroyed the castle of Sir John Gordon,
a man of great property in the south of Scotland.
Sir John in his turn invaded England, whence
he drove oft" a large booty in cattle, and a num-
ber of prisoners. In his retreat he was attacked
by a body of fresh troops under Sir John Lish-
burn, at a place called Caram. An obstinate
encounter followed. The Scots were five times,
repulsed ; but at last they renewed the charge
with such fury that they made Lishburn, his
brother, and several other persons of distinction,
prisoners, with all their surviving soldiers. On
this lord Percy with 7000 men encamped at
Dunse, in the south of Scotland, but was obliged
to retire. In the mean time Musgrave, the gover-
nor of Berwick, who had been ordered to join
Percy with a detachment from the garrison, was
on his march intercepted, defeated, and taken
prisoner by Sir John Gordon ; after which the
border war became general. The issue of these
disturbances is but little known ; however, in
1 377, we find them raging with more violence
than ever. The fair of Roxburgh was once more
the scene of action, and the town was again
burnt down by the Scots. Lord Percy, who was
now earl of Northumberland, resolved to take
signal vengeance. He ravaged the Scottish bor-
ders, particularly the earl of March's estate, for
three days, at the head of 10,000 men. Some
time after this the Scottish insurgents became
powerful enough to surprise Berwick ; which,
however, was quickly retaken by the English,
who soon after invaded Scotland. In this expe-
dition, however, they succeeded so ill that Percy
desisted from his expedition. The Scots then
began hostilities by sea, under one Mercer, an
experienced sailor ; but he was taken prisoner
by the English with all his fleet. In 1379 Eng-
land was afflicted with a dreadful plague, of
which the Scots took advantage to invade the
country, killing and plundering the defenceless
inhabitants without mercy. This predatory war
continued, generally to the disadvantage of the
English, till the beginning of November 1380,
when a truce was concluded for a year. This
truce, like the others, was but indifferently ob-
served ; so that, in 1383, new negociations were
set on foot ; but, in 1 3R4, the war was renewed
with greater fury than ever. In spring the earls
of March and Douglas took the castle of Loch-
maben, and intercepted a rich convoy which the
English were sending to Roxburgh ; burnt to
the ground the castle of Wark, and committed
such devastations in the north of England that
several gentlemen offered to resign their estates
to Richard II. because they were not able to de-
i'end them against the Scots. The duke of Lan-
raster entered Scotland at the head of an army ;
but the inhabitants had removed every thing
valuable, so that he marched on to Edinburgh
without accomplishing any thing of consequence.
On his return he was harassed by flying parties
of Scots, who destroyed a considerable :i
of his men. This year, also, . the French sent a
body of auxiliaries into Scotland. The earls of
Northumberland and Nottingham entered Scot-
land with an army of 10,000 horse and 6000
archers ; but retired, after having committed de-
vastations in the southern counties. The Scots
revenged themselves by laying waste all the
northern part of England to the gates of New-
castle. Berwick was taken by the Scots, and
soon after surrendered for 2000 merks. A truce
was then, as usual, concluded ; but in the mean
time king Robert was meditating a severe blow
against the English. The duke of Burgundy,
having come to the possession of the estate of his
father-in-law the earl of Flanders, claimed the
sovereignty of the town of Ghent ; but the people
refused to submit to him, and in this refusal
were protected by king Richard II. of England.
On this the duke of Burgundy proposed to the
French court to invade England in concert with
the Scots. A fleet was accordingly fitted out at
Sluys ; on board of which John de Vienne, the
French admiral, embarked, carrying along with
him £50.000 in gold, which the duke of Burgun-
dy advanced to be distributed in Scotland, where
the admiral arrived safe with 2000 auxiliaries,
of whom 500 were men at arms. 400 suits of
complete armour were brought along with them.
to be distributed among the bravest of the Scots,
who were for a short time elated with the great
attention which had been paid them by the
French king ; but in the mean time, the Flemings
having revolted, the French abandoned the Scots
to sustain the whole weight of the English re-
sentment, that they themselves might employ
their arms in Flanders. King Richard took tlie
field with a more numerous army than had ever
been mustered in England before. Hostilities
were begun by the Scots, who, according to cus-
tom, invaded the northern parts of England, and
carried off a considerable booty; however, in
their retreat, they were in danger of being cut
off by the duke of Lancaster, who had been sent
with an army to intercept them. The English
army proceeded northwards, but could not ac-
complish any thing, the country being desolated,
till they came to Edinburgh, which they laid in
ashes. Being, however, incessantly harassed by
parties of the enemy, they were obliged to retreat.
In 1378, after a short truce, the war was renewed
with fresh fury. Northumberland and West-
moreland were ravaged by the earls of Fife and
Douglas, and lord Nithisdale defeated a body of
3000 English ; after which he formed a plan of
invading Ireland, the inhabitants of which had
of late been very active against the Scots. In
1388 Douglas obtained permission to raise a
body of forces for his invasion ; and, having
landed in safety, defeated the Irish, plundered
the town of Carliogford, and loaded fifteen ships
with the booty. Thence the Scots sailed to the
Isle of Man, which, in like manner, was plundered
and laid waste; after which they returned with
their booty to Lock Rian in Scotland. Encou-
raged by their success Robert determined to pro-
ceed on a more enlarged plan. Having assem-
bled a parliament at Aberdeen, a double invasion
of England was resolved upon. Two armies were
raised consisting cf 25,000 men each, the one
442
SCOTLAND.
under the earls of Monteith and Fife, Douglas,
lord of Galloway, and Alexander Lindesay ; the
other under the earls of Douglas, March, Craw-
ford, Moray, the lord high constable of Scotland,
and other persons of rank. The former entered
Cumberland, and the latter Northumberland,
ooth which countries they laid waste, and both
armies were to meet within ten miles of New-
castle. The English were thrown into the greatest
consternation. Newcastle was defended by the
earl of Northumberland, whose age and infirmi-
ties rendered him incapable of taking the field ;
but his place was abundantly supplied by his
two sons Henry and Ralph, the former of whom
is known in English history by the name of
Hotspur. The town was garrisoned by the flower
of the English nobility and gentry, as well as the
inhabitants of the adjacent counties, who had
fled thither for refuge. Douglas selected 2000
foot and 400 horsemen out of the two armies,
and encamped on the north side of the town,
with a view of storming it next day. In the
meantime he was challenged by Hotspur to fight
him hand to hand, with sharp ground spears, in
sight of both armies. Douglas accepted the
challenge, and Percy was unhorsed the first en-
counter, and obliged to take refuge within the
portcullis of the town ; whence Douglas brought
off his antagonist's lance, with a pennon affixed
to it, and swore in his hearing that he would
carry it into Scotland. Next day Douglas at-
tempted to storm the town ; but, being repulsed
in the attack, he decamped in the night. Percy,
breathing furious revenge, pursued and overtook
the Scots at Otterburn. His arrival was quite
unexpected, so that the principal commanders
of the Scottish army were sitting down to sup-
per unarmed. The soldiers, however, were in-
stantly prepared for battle; but, in the hurry
necessarily attending a surprise of this kind,
Douglas forgot to put on his cuirass. Both
leaders encouraged their men by the most ani-
mating speeches; and both parties waited for the
rise of the moon, which happened that night to
be unusually bright. The battle being joined on
the moon's first appearance, the Scots beean to
?ive ground, but, being rallied by Douglas, who
fought with a battle-axe, the English, though
greatly superior in numbers, were totally routed ;
1200 were killed on the spot, and 100 persons
of distinction, among whom were the two Percies,
were made prisoners by Keith, marischal of Scot-
land. On the side of the Scots the greatest loss
was that of the brave earl Douglas, who was
killed in consequence of going to battle without
his armour. This single combat between Douglas
and Percy, and the subsequent battle, gave rise
to the celebrated ballad of Chevy Chace. See
OTTERBURN. In the mean time the bishop of
Durham marched towards Newcastle with an
army of 10,000 men ; but was informed by the
runaways of Percy's defeat, on the 21st of July
1388. In a council of war it was resolved to
pursue the Scots, whom they hoped easily to
vanquish, as being wearied with the battle of the
preceding day, and laden with plunder. The
earl of Moray, who commanded in chief, having
called a consultation of his officers, resolved to
venture a battle. The prisoners were almost as
numerous as the whole Scottish army ; however
the generals required no more of them than their
words of honor that they should continue inac-
tive during the battle, and remain priscners still.
This condition being complied with, the Scots
drew out their army for battle. Their rear was
secured 'by marshes, and their flanks by large
trees which they had felled. In short their ap-
pearance was so formidable that the English,
dreading to encounter a resolute enemy so strongly
secured, retired to Newcastle, leaving the Scots
at liberty to continue their march to their own
country. Robert being now oppressed with age,
so that he could no longer end'iie the fatigues of
government, the administration of affairs devolved
upon his second son the earl of Fife ; for his
eldest son was by nature indolent, and besides
lame by an unlucky blow he had received from
a horse. Early in the spring of 1389 he invaded
England with success; but the same year a truce
was concluded, to last from the 19th of June
1389 to the 16th of August 1392 ; in \vhich the
allies of both crowns were included. This truce
was violently opposed by the nobility, who sus-
pected their king of being too much under French
influence. Upon this the court of France sent
over ambassadors to persuade the nobilitv to
comply ; informing them that, in case of a refu-
sal, they could expect no assistance either of men
or money from the continent. With difficulty
they prevailed, and peace between England and
Scotland was once more restored. Scarcely,
however, was this truce finished, when the peace
of the nation was most scandalously violated by
Robert's third son, Alexander, earl of Buchan.
This prince, having a quarrel with the bishop of
Murray, burnt down the fine cathedral of l-'luin,
which has been called by historians the ornament
of the north of Scotland. The king for this crime
caused his son to be imprisoned; and a civil
war would have been the consequence had it not
been for the veneration which the Scots retained
for their old king. However they did not long
enjoy their beloved monarch; for he died on the
19th of April 1390, in the seventy-fifth year of
his age, and the nineteenth of his reign.
On the death of Robert II. the crown devolved
upon his eldest son John ; but the name being
thought unpropitious, from the unfortunate reigns
of the three Johns of Scotland, England, and
France, he changed it for that of Robert, though
he was still called by the commonalty Robert
John Fernzier. He had been married to Anna-
bella, the daughter of Sir John Drummond, an-
cestor to the noble family of Perth ; and \\;is
crowned along with his consort at Scone, on the
13th of August, 1390. He confirmed the truce
with England, and renewed the league with
France ; but the beginning of his reign was dis-
turbed by the wars of the petty chieftains with
each other. Duncan Stewart, son to Alexander,
earl of Buchan, who had died in prison, assem-
bling his followers under pretence of reve-
his father's death, laid waste the county of An-
gus. Walter Ogilvy, the sheriff of Angus, at-
tempting to repel the invaders, was killed, with
his brother and sixty of their followers. The king
then gave a commission to the earl of Crawford
to suppress them, which he soon did, and most
SCOTLAND.
41,3
of them were either killed or executed. The fol-
lowers of the earl of Buchan were composed of
the wildest Highlanders, distinguished by the title
of Catterenes, which answers to that of banditti
or robbers. They seem to have lived, like the
Arabs, entirely by plunder; and they or their
ancestors had emigrated from the Western Isles
and from Ireland. The lands they inhabited
were never cultivated till the middle of the seven-
teenth century. The earl of Crawford's success
against the followers of Buchan encouraged
Robert to intrust him with a commission for
subduing other insurgents. The most remarkable
of these were the Clan Chattan and Clan Kay.
As both these tribes were numerous and brave,
Crawford was afraid that they might unite against
him as a common enemy. He proposed, there-
fore, that the two rival clans should each choose
thirty men, to determine their differences by the
sword without any other weapon. The king and
his nobility were to be spectators of the combat ;
the conquered clan were to be pardoned for all
their former offences, and the conquerors honored
with the royal favor. This proposal was readily
accepted, and the North Inch of Perth was to be
the scene of action. But, upon mustering the
combatants, it was found that one of the clan
Chattan had absented himself. It was proposed
to balance this difference by withdrawing one of
the combatants from the clan Kay ; but not one
of them could be prevailed on to resign his place.
At last one Henry Wynd, a saddler, though no
way connected with either party, offered to sup-
ply the place of him that was absent, on con-
dition of his receiving a French crown of gold
(about 7s. 6d. of our money) ; which was imme-
diately paid him. The combat then began with
incredible fury ; but at last, through the superior
valor and skill of Henry Wynd, victory declared
in favor of the clan Chattan. Only ten of the
conquerors besides Wynd were left alive, and all
of them desperately wounded. Of the clan Kay
only one remained ; and he having received no
hurt escaped by swimming across the Tay.
W'hile these internal broils were going on, the
truce which had lately been concluded with Eng-
land was so ill observed that it became necessary
to enter into fresh negociations. These had little
effect. The borderers on both sides had been so
accustomed to ravage and plunder that they
could not live in quiet. Robert also was thought
to be too much attached to the king of England.
He had introduced the new title of duke, which
he bestowed first on the prince royal ; but, making
an offer of that honor to one of the heads of the
Douglas family, it was rejected with disdain.
That powerful family had never lost sight of an
ancient claim they had upon the castle of Rox-
burgh, which was still in the possession of the
Knglish; and this year the son of the earl of
Douglas, Sir William Stewart, and others, broke
down the bridge of Roxburgh, plundered the
town, and destroyed the forage and corn there
and in the adjacent country. The English ap-
plied for satisfaction ; but obtained none, as the
confusion which involved the kingdom by the
deposition and murder of Richard II., and the
accession of Henry IV., prevented them from
having recourse to arms, the only argument to
which the Scottish patriots in those days would
listen. No sooner was the catastrophe or' Richard
known in Scotland than the Scots resolved to
avail themselves of it ; and invading the north
parts of England, demolished the castle of Wark,
and laid the neighbouring country under con-
tribution. The situation of Henry's affairs did
not admit of his resenting this insult. He con-
tented himself with nominating his brother, the
earl of Westmoreland, to treat with the Scots
about a truce of peace ; or, if that could not be
obtained, to make a mutual agreement that the
towns of Dumfries in Scotland, and Penrith in
England, should be free from hostilities during
the war. To this proposal the Scots paid no
regard; and being now encouraged by the court
of France, who resented the deposition of
Richard, they renewed their ravages in England.
In t400 Henry called a parliament to consult on
the best means of repelling the Scottish invasions;
and in this he was greatly assisted by the divi-
sions of the Scots among themselves. Prince
David, duke of Rothesay, the heir-apparent of
the crown, was now grown up to man's estate, and
it was thought proper to provide a suitable con-
sort for him. The king scandalously offered him
to the lady whose father could give him the
highest price. The earl of March was the highest
bidder ; and advanced a considerable sum in
ready money, on condition that his daughtei
should become the royal bride. This sordid mate!
was opposed by Douglas, who proposed his owi.
daughter, the lady Margery. So degenerated was
the court of Scotland, at this time, that neither the
king nor the duke of Rothesay opposed this pro
posal of a new match, because it was to be pur
chased with a fresh sum ; and they even re-
fused to indemnify the earl of March for the.
money he had already advanced. As the duke
of Albany sided with Douglas, a council of the
nobility was privately assembled, which annulled
the contract of the lady Elizabeth Dunbar, the
earl of March's daughter, in favor of the lady
Margery, daughter to the earl of Douglas ; but
without taking any measures for repaying the
money to the earl of March. The continuator of
Fordun informs us that the earl of Douglas paid
a larger sum for his daughter's fortune than that
which had been advanced by the earl of March,
and that the earl of Douglas's daughter was mar-
ried to the duke of Rothesay : that, before the
marriage was celebrated, March demanded that
the money he had advanced should be reim-
bursed ; but, receiving an unsatisfactory answer,
he declared that, as the king had not fulfilled his
bargain, he would bring unexpected calamities
upon the country. Accordingly he fled into Eng-
land, leaving his castle of Dunbar to the custody
of his nephew Robert Maitland, who soon after
put it into the hands of the earl of Douglas, called
in history Archibald the Grim, from the sternness
of his visage. As soon as Robert heard of the
revolt of the earl of March, he sent ambassadors
demanding back his subject ; but the request was
disregarded. On the other hand, the earl of
March demanded repossession of the castle of
Dunbar, pleading that he had committed no act
of treason, but had come to England under a safe
conduct from king Henry, on purpose to nego-
444
SCOTLAND.
ciate his private affairs, but this request was dis-
regarded ; upon which he sent for all his family
and followers to England, where they joined him
in great numbers. This produced a war between
the two kingdoms. The earl of March, with
Henry Percy, surnamed Hotspur, invaded Scot-
land, penetrating as far as Haddington, and
carrying off great numbers of the inhabitants into
captivity. Thence they went to Peebles, and
then to Linton, ravaging the country all the way
as they passed along. They next besieged the
castle of Hales, and took several of the neigh-
bouring forts ; but Archibald the Grim, or his
son, having raised an army against them, they
were struck with terror, and fled to Berwick, to
the gates of which they were pursued by the
Scots. At this time the Scottish admiral, Sir
Robert Logan, was at sea with a squadron ; but
miscarried iu an attempt he made upon some
English ships of war that protected their fleet
when fishing upon the coast of Scotland. After
this the English plundered the Orkney Islands ;
which, though belonging to the crown of Nor-
way, were at that time governed, or rather farmed,
by Sinclair the Scottish earl of Orkney and
Caithness. All this time the earl of March con-
tinued under the protection of the king of Eng-
land. He had received repeated invitations to
return to his allegiance : but, all of them being
rejected, he was proclaimed a traitor ; and the
Scottish governor made a formal demand of him
from king Henry. With this the latter not only
refused to comply, but renewed his league with
the lord of the isles. On the 25th of July, 1400,
the earl of March renounced his homage, fealty,
and service, to the king of Scotland, and trans-
ferred them to Henry by a formal indenture. For
this he was rewarded with a pension of 500
merks sterling, and the manor of Clipestone in
Sherwood forest. Henry now began to revive
the claim of homage from the kings of Scotland,
and even to meditate the conquest of the king-
dom. He had indeed many reasons to hope for
success ; from the weakness of the Scottish govern-
ment, the divided state of the royal family, and
the dissensions among the chief nobility. Before
he set out on his journey he received a letter from
the duke of Rothesay, full of reproaches on ac-
count of the presumptuous letters which Henry
had addressed to Robert and his nobility. The
letter was addressed by the duke, ' To his ad-
versary of England,' as the Scots had not yet
recognised the title of Henry IV. to the crown
of England. Towards the end of it the duke de-
sired Henry, to avoid the effusion of Christian
blood, to fight him in person with two, three, or
100 noblemen on a side. But this challenge
produced no other answer from Henry than that
' he was surprised that the duke of Rothesay
should consider noble blood as not being Chris-
tian, since he desired the effusion of the one,
and not of the other.' Henry arrived at heith
on the very day on which he had appointed the
Scottish nobility to meet him and pay their
homage, and conclude a peace between the two
/ crowns. He flattered the English with a promise
of raising the power and glory of their country
to a higher pitch than it had ever reached. Under
this pretext he seized upon the sum of £350,000
in ready money, beside; as much in plate and
jewels, which had been left by Richard II. in
the royal treasury. He raised also vast contribu-
tions on the clergy and nobility, and likewise on
the principal towns and cities. At last, finding
that neither his vast preparations, nor the interest
of the earl of March, had brought any of the
Scots to his standard, he formed the siege of
Edinburgh castle, which was defended by the duke
of Rothesay. The duke of Albany, brother to
king Robert, was then in the field with an army,
and sent a letter to king Henry, promising that,
if he would remain where he was for six days,
he would give him battle, and force him to raiMj
the siege, or lose his life. When this was written
the duke was at Calder-muir; and Henry was so
much pleased with the letter that he presented
the herald who delivered it with his upper gar-
ment, and a chain of gold ; promising, on his
royal word, that he would remain where he was
until the day appointed. On this occasion,
however, the duke forfeited his honor (if in-
deed the villain had any to forfeit) ; for he suf-
fered six days to elapse without making any at-
tempt on the English aimy. Henry in the mean
time, pushed on the siege of Edinburgh castle;
but met with a most vigorous resistance from the
duke of Rothesay. At the same time he \va<
informed that the Welsh were on the point of
rebellion under their famous chieftain Owen
Glendower. He knew also that many of the
English were highly dissatisfied with his title to
the crown ; and that he owed his peaceable pos-
session of it to the moderation of the earl of
March, who was the real heir to the unfortunate
Richard, but a nobleman of no ambition. Tor
these reasons he raised the siege of Edinburgh
castle, and returned to England. He then agreed
to a truce for six weeks, but which was alier-
terwards prolonged for a year, by commissioners
of the two crowns, who met at Kelso. In 1401
Scotland suffered a great loss by the death of
Trail, archbishop of St. Andrew's, a most exem-
plary patriot, and a person of great influence.
Archibald Douglas the Grim had died some
time before, and his loss also was now severely
felt; for the king himself, naturally feeble, and
quite disabled by his age and infirmities, lived
sequestered from the world This year also
queen Annaoella died, so that none remained who
might be able to heal those divisions which pre-
vailed among the royal family. Robert duke of
Albany, a man of great ambition, was an enemy
to the duke of Rothesay, the heir-apparent ;
and endeavoured to impress his father with a
bad opinion of him. This prince, however, ap-
pears to have been chargeable with no misde-
meanor of consequence. One Ramorgny, a man
of the vilest principles, but an attendant on the
duke of Rothesay, had won his confidence ; and,
perceiving how much he resented the conduct of
his uncle the duke of Albany, had the villany to
suggest to the prince the despatching him by
assassination. This infamous proposal the prince
rejected with such horror and displeasure, that
the villain, being afraid he would disclose it to
the duke of Albany, informed the latter, undci
the seal of the most inviolable secrecy, that the
prince intended to murder him ; upon which the
SCOTLAND.
445
<iukc, and William Lindsay of Rossay, his asso-
ciate, resolved upon the prince's death. By
practising upon the dealing king, Lindsay and
Uamorgny obtained a writ directed to the duke
ot Albany, empowering him to arrest his son,
and to keep him under restraint. The same
traitors had previously possessed the prince with
an apprehension that his life was in danger, and
had persuaded him to seize the castle of St.
Andrew's. He was riding thither with a small
attendance, when he was arrested between the
towns of Nidi and Stratirum (according to the
continuator of Fordun), and hurried to the very
castle of which he was preparing to take posses-
sion. The duke of Albany, and the earl of
Douglas, who was likewise the prince's enemy,
were then at Culross, waiting the event ; of
which they were no sooner informed, than they
ordered a strong body of ruffians to carry the
royal captive from the castle; which they did,
after clothing him in a russet cloak, and com-
mitting him to the custody of two execrable
wretches, John Selkirk and John Wright, who
were ordered by the duke of Albany to starve
him to death. According to Buchanan his fate
was for some time prolonged by the compassion
of one of his keeper's daughters, who thrust him
oatcakes through the chinks of his prison walls,
and a woman who, being a wet nurse, found
means to convey part of her milk to him through
a small tube. Both these charitable females
were detected, and put to death. The prince
himself died on Easter-eve, his hunger, it is said,
having impelled him to devour part of his own
flesh. In the mean time Robert, being yet ig-
norant of the shocking murder, had consented to
renew hostilities with England. On the expira-
tion of the truce, Henry sent a commission to the
carls of Northumberland and Westmoreland, to
offer the Scots any terms they could reasonably
desire; but every offer of this kind was rejected.
The earl of March had received another pension
from Henry, on condition of his keeping on foot a
certain number of light troops to act against the
Scots ; and so effectually did these now annoy
their enemies that the earl of Douglas was
obliged to take the field. By dividing his men
into small parties, he repressed the depredations
of the invaders; and Thomas Haliburton, the
commander of one of the Scottish parties,
made incursions into England as far as Bambo-
roush, whence he returned with a considerable
booty. This encouraged another chieftain, Pa-
trick Hepburn, to make a similar attempt ; but,
being elated with success, he remained too long
:n the enemy's country ; so that the earl of March
sent a detachment to intercept him. This pro-
duced a desperate encounter, in which Hepburn
was killed ; the flower of the youth of Lothian,
who had attended him, were cut off, and scarcely
a single Scotchman remained unwounded. On
the news of this disaster, the earl of Douglas ap-
plied for assistance to the duke of Albany. He
v. as immediately furnished with a considerable
m my, consisting of 10,000, or 13,000 ; but, ac-
re rding to the English historians, of 20,000 men.
IWrdoch, the sen of the duke, attended the earl
t'n this expedition, as did also the earlb of Moray,
AnjitiS, ( ;ikney, and manyithers of the chief
nobility, with eighty knights. The Scots on tin
occasion conducted themselves with the same
imprudence they had done before. Having pe-
netrated too far into the country, they were in-
tercepted by the English on their return, and
obliged to engage at a place called Homeldon,
under great disadvantages. The consequence
was that they were utterly defeated, and almost
the whole army either killed or taken. Henry
Hotspui, to whom this victory was chiefly owing,
resolving to pursue the advantage he had gained,
entered the southern parts of the kingdom, and
laid siege to a castle called Cocklawys, on the
borders of Teviotdale. The castle was for some
time bravely defended ; but at last the governor
entered into a treaty, by which it was agreed to
deliver up the castle, if it was not relieved by
the king or governor in six weeks; during which
time no additional fortifications were to be made.
But, while the English were retiring, one of
Percy's soldiers pretended that the Scots had
broke the capitulation by introducing a mattock
into the place. The governor, hearing of this
charge, offered to fight any Englishman who
should engage to make it good. A champion
was accordingly singled out, but was defeated
by the Scotchman ; and the English army retired
according to agreement. The matter then being
debated in the Scottish council, it was resolved
to send relief to the castle. Accordingly the
duke of Albany, with a powerful army, set out
for the place ; but, before he came there, certain
news were received of the defeat and death of
Hotspur, at Shrewsbury. In 1404 king Henry,
anxious for a peace with Scotland, renewed ne-
gotiations for that purpose. These, however,
not being attended with success, hostilities were
continued, but without any remarkable transac-
tion. In the mean time king Robert was in-
formed of the miserable fate of his eldest son the
duke of Rothesay ; but was unable to resent it
by executing justice on the monster Albany.
After giving himself up to grief, therefore, for
some time, he resolved to provide for the safety
of his second son James, by sending him into
France ; and the young prince took shipping
with all imaginable secrecy at the Bass, under
the care of the earl of Orkney. On his voyage
he was taken by an English privateer off Flam-
borough Head, and brought before Henry. The
English monarch having examined the attendants
of the prince, they told him they were carrying
the prince to France for his education. ' 1 un-
derstand the French tongue,' replied Henry,
' and your countrymen ought to have been kiwi
enough to have trusted me with their prince's
education.' He then committed the prince and
his attendants close prisoners to the tower of
London. The news of this disaster arrived at
the castle of Rothesay in the Isle of Bute (the
place of Robert's residence) while the kin? \%as
at supper ; and the news threw him into such an
agony of grief that he died in three days, the
29th of March 1405, after having reigned about
fifteen years.
By the death of Robert, and the captivity of
the prince, all the power devolved upon the
duke of Albany, who was appointed regent by a
convention of the states assembled at Scone.
SCOTLAND.
The allegiance of the people, however, to their
captive prince could not be shaken ; so that the
-egent was oU'iged to raise an army for the pur-
pose of rescuing him. Henry summoned all
his military tenants, and made great preparations ;
but, having agreed to treat of a final peace with
Ireland and the lord of the Isles, the regent laid
hold of this as a pretence for entering into a new
negociation with the English monarch ; and a
truce was concluded for a year. In consequence
of this, Rothesay, king at arms, was appointed
commissary general for the king and kingdom
of Scotland ; and in that quality repaired to the
court of England. When prince James was
taken, there had been a truce, however ill ob-
served, subsisting between the two nations.
Rothesay produced the record of this truce,
which provided that the Scots should have a free
navigation ; and, in consequence of this, he de-
manded justice of the captain and crew of the
privateer who had taken the prince. Henry or-
dered the matter to be enquired into; but the
English brought their complaints as well as the
Scots ; and the claims of both were so intricate
that the examination fell to the ground, but at
the same time the truce was prolonged. In the
end of 1409, or the beginning of 1410, the war
was renewed with England, and Henry prepared
to strike the fatal blow which he had long medi-
tated against Scotland. He had entered into a
league with the lord of the Isles, where a consi-
derable revolution then happened. Walter Les-
ley had succeeded to the estate and honors of the
earl of Ross, in the right of his wife, who was the
heir. By that marriage, he had a son named
Alexander, who succeeded him ; and a daughter
Margaret, who was married to the lord of the
Isles. This Alexander had married one of the
regent's daughters ; and, dying young, he left
behind him an only daughter, Euphan, who was
deformed, and became a nun at North Berwick.
Her grandfather, the regent, procured from her
a resignation of the earldom of Ross, to which
she was undoubted heir, in favor of John earl of
Buchan, but in prejudice of Donald lord of the
Isles, who was the son of Margaret, sister to the
earl Alexander, and consequently the nearest heir
to the estate after the nun. Donald applied for
redress; but, his suit being rejected, he, with his
brother John, fled into England, where he was
graciously, received by king Henry. According
to the instructions given him by the English mo-
narch, Donald returned to his own dominions in
the Isles, where he raised an army, and, passing
over into Ross-shire, violently seized on the es-
tate in dispute. He was soon at the head of
10,000 Highlanders, with whom he marched into
the province of Moray, and thence to Strathbogie
and Garioch, which he laid under contribution.
Advancing towards Aberdeen, with a view to
pay his troops with the plunder of that city,
which was then a place of considerable trade, he
was met by the earl of Marr, whom the regent
had employed to command against him, at a vil-
lage called Harlaw, near Aberdeen. A fierce
engagement ensued, in which great numbers
were killed on both sides, and the victory re-
mained uncertain ; but Donald finding himself in
the midst of an enemy's country, where he could
raise no recruits, began to retreat next day ; and,
the shattered state of the royal arm;' preventing
him from being pursued, he escaped to his own
dominions ; where in a short time he submitted,
and swore allegiance to the crown of Scotland.
In the mean time Henry continued the war, and
refused to renew the truce, though frequently so
licited. He had now, however, sustained a ereai
loss by the defection of the earl of March, who
had gone over to the Scots. This nobleman, on
his return to Scotland, had been fully reconciled
to the Douglas family, and now strove to distin-
guish himself in the cause of his country ; a cir-
cumstance which, together with the countenance
shown the Scots by the court of France, and ;i
bull published by the pope in their favor, con-
tributed to reduce Henry to reason : we hear of
no more hostilities between the two nations till
after the death of the English monarch, which
happened in 1413.
In 1415, the truce being expired, the Scots
made great preparations for besieging Berwick ;
but nothing was done during the campaign, but
the burning of Penrith by the Scots, and Dum-
fries by the English. Next year a truce was
agreed uponr and a treaty entered into for the
ransom of king James; which was so far ad-
vanced that the English king agreed to his visit-
ing Scotland, provided he engaged to forfeit
£100,000 sterling in case of his failure to return
by a certain day. For reasons now unknown,
this treaty was broken off, and vast preparations
were made for a new invasion of Scotland ;
which, however, was executed with so little
success, that it became known among the com-
mon people of Scotland by the name of the fule
raid. In 1420 died Robert duke of Albany,
regent of Scotland, at the age of eighty ; and
such was the veneration which the Scots had for
his memory, notwithstanding his villany, that his
post of regent was conferred upon his eldest son
Murdoch. The war with England was now dis-
continued ; but in France Henry V. met with
the greatest opposition £rora the Scots auxilia-
ries, insomuch that he proclaimed all the Scots
in the service of the Dauphin rebels against their
lawful sovereign. Soon after this the town and
castle of Melun being obliged to capitulate, one
of the articles was, that all the English and
Scots in the place should be resigned to the ab-
solute disposal of the king of England ; when
he caused twenty Scottish soldiers who were found
in the place to be hanged. In 1421 Henry re-
turned to England, and with him James the
Scottish king. On his arrival there, he was in-
formed that the Scots, under the earl of Douglas,
had made an irruption into England, where they
had burnt Newark, but had been forced to re-
turn to their own country by a pestilence, though
a new invasion was daily expected. Instead of
resenting this insult, Henry invited the earl of
Douglas to a conference at York ; in which the
latter agreed to serve him during life, by sea and
land, against all living, except his own liege lord
the king of Scotland, with 200 foot and as many
horse ; the king of England, in the mean time,
allowing an annual revenue of £200 for paying
his expenses. A new negociation was also now
set on foot for the ransom of kin? James ; but
SCO T L A N 1>.
447
he did not obtain his liberty till 1424. Henry
V. was then do;id ; find, none of his generals
being able to supply his place, the English power
in France began to decline. They then became
sensible how necessary it was to be at peace with
Scotland. James was therefore highly caressed,
and at his own liberty within certain bounds.
The English even consulted him about the man-
ner of conducting the treaty for his ransom ; and
one Dougal Urummond, a priest, was sent with
a safe conduct for the bishop of Glasgow, chan-
cellor of Scotland, Dunbar earl of March, John
Montgomery of Androssan., Sir Patrick Dunbar
of Bele, Sir Robert Lauder of Edrington, &c.,
to have an interview at Pomfret, with their
master the captive king, and there to treat of
their common interests. Most of these noble-
men and gentlemen had before been nominated
to treat with the English about their king's re-
turn ; and Dougal Drummond seems to have
been a domestic favorite with James. Hitherto
the Scottish king had been allowed an annual
revenue of £700; but, while he was making
ready for his journey, his equipage and atten-
dants were increased to those befitting a sove-
reign ; and he received a present from the
English treasury of £lOO. That he might ap-
pear in a way suitable to his dignity, at every
stage were provided relays of horses, fish, flesh,
and fowl, with cooks and other servants for fur-
nishing the most sumptuous entertainments. In
this meeting at Pomfret, James acted as a kind
of a mediator between England and his own sub-
jects, to whom he fully laid himself open ; but,
in the mean time, the English regency issued a
commission for settling the terms upon which he
was to be restored, if he arid his commissioners
should lay a proper foundation for such a treaty.
The instructions the commissioners received
were dated at Westminster, July 6th, 1423;
but we need not quote them, as nothing defini-
tive was concluded at this time, but that another
meeting should be held at York. This accord-
ingly took place, and the chief articles proposed
were agreed to. The English commissioners
were, Thomas bishop of Durham, chancellor of
England, Philip bishop of Winchester, Henry
Percy earl of Northumberland, and Mr. John
Wodeham. On the 10th of September they
came to the following agreement with the Scot-
tish commissioners: — 1. That the king of Scot-
land and his heirs, as an equivalent for his enter-
tainment in England, should pay to the king of
England and his heirs, at London, in the church
of St. Paul, by equal proportions, the sum of
£40,000 sterling. 2. That the first payment
of 10,000 merks, should be made six months
after the king of Scotland's entering his own
kingdom ; that the like sum should be paid next
year, and so on for six years, when the whole
would be cleared; unless, after payment of
40,000 merks, the last payment of 10,000 should
be remitted. 3. That the king of Scotland, be-
fore entering his own kingdom, should give
sufficient hostages for his performance. 4. That
the king of Scotland should be at Branspath, or
Durham, by the 1st of March, where he should
be attended by the nobles of his blood, and other
subjects, to fix the number and quality of the
hostages. 5. That, to cement and perpetuate
the amity of the two kingdoms, the governors of
Scotland should send ambassadors to London,
with power to conclude a contract of marriage
between the king of Scotland and some lady of
the first quality in England. (James, it is pro-
bable, had already fixed his choice upon the lady
Joan, daughter to the earl of Somerset, who was
son to John of Gaunt duke of Lancaster, by his
second marriage ; but he paid his people the
compliment, not only of consulting their opinion,
but of concluding the match.) The commis-
sioners, after their agreement at York, proceeded
towards London, and Thomas Somerville of
Carnwath, with Walter Ogilvy, were added to
their number. Being arrived at that capital,
they ratified the former articles, and undertook
for their king, that he should deliver his hostages
to the king of England's officers, in the city of
Durham, before the last day of March ; that he
should also deliver to the said officers four obli-
gatory letters, for the whole sum of £40,000
from the four burghs of Edinburgh, Perth, Dun-
dee, and Aberdeen ; that he should give his
obligatory letter to the same purpose, before re-
moving from Durham, and should renew the
same four days after his arrival in his own king-
dom ; that the hostages might be changed from
time to time for others of the same fortune and
quality, and that, if any of them should die in
England, others should be sent thither in their
room. The marriage of James with the lady
Joan Beaufort was celebrated in the beginning
of February, 1424. The young king of England
presented him with a suit of cloth of gold for
the ceremony ; and the next day he received a
legal discharge of £10,000 to be deducted from
the £40,000 at which his ransom was fixed. The
ceremony being performed, the king and queen
set out for Durham, where the hostages were
waiting ; and arrived at his own dominions,
along with the earl of Northumberland and the
chief of the northern nobility, who attended him
with great pomp. On the 20th of April, the
same year, he was crowned at Scone. During
the dependence of the treaty for James's release,
the Scots had emigrated to France in such num-
bers that no fewer than 15,000 of them appeared
in arms under the duke of Touraine.
On his return, James found himself in a disa-
greeable situation. The great maxim of the duke
of Albany, when regent, had been to maintain
himself in power by exempting the lower class
of people from taxes. This plan had been con-
tinued by his son Murdoch ; but, as the latter was
destitute of his father's abilities, the people
abused their happiness, and Scotland became
such a scene of rapine that no commoner could
say he had a property of his own. The Stewart
family, on their accession, were possessed of a
very considerable patrimonial estate, indepen-
dent of the standing revenues of the crown,
which consisted chiefly of customs, wards, and
reliefs. The revenues of the paternal estate be-
longing to James, had they been regularly trans-
mitted to him, would have more than maintained
him in a splendor equal to his dignity, while he
was in England ; nor would he in that case
have had any occasion for an allowance from
44S
SCOTLAND.
the kino; of England. But, as the duke of Al-
bany never intended that his nephew should
return, he parcelled out among his favorites the
estate of the family in such a manner that James
found all his patrimonial revenues gone, and
many of them in the hands of his best friends.
This circumstance, of itself sufficiently disa-
greeable, was attended with two others, which
tended to make it more so. The one was that
the hostages which had been left for the king's
ransom in England, being all of them persons of
the first rank, were attended by their wives,
families, children, and equipages, which rivalled
those of the same rank in England, and drew
much ready money out of the nation. The other
circumstance was, the expense of the Scottish
army in France ; where Charles, who had never
been in a condition to support it, was now re-
duced to the utmost necessity; while the re-
venues of James himself were both scanty and
precarious. To remedy these inconveniences,
therefore, the king obtained from his parliament
an act, obliging the sheriffs of the respective
counties to enquire what lands and estates had
belonged to his ancestors David II., Robert II.,
and Robert III.; and he formed a resolution of
resuming these lands wherever they could be
discovered. At this time many of the most il-
lustrious personages in the kingdom were ar-
rested, and the duke of Albany, his two sons,
and the earl of Lennox the duke's father-in-law,
were put to death. James proceeded with great
spirit to reform the abuses which had pervaded
every department of the state, and warmly pro-
tected and encouraged learning and learned
men. He himself wrote some poetry; and in
music was so excellent a composer, that he has
been with good reason regarded as the father of
Scottish music. He introduced organs into his
chapels, and a much better style of architecture
into all the public buildings. He was also a
warm patron of the useful arts: in short, be did
more towards the civilisation of his people than
had been done by any of his predecessors. In
the mean time the truce continued with Eng-
land. James, however, seemed not to have any
inclination to enter into a perpetual alliance with
that kingdom. Ou the contrary, in 1428, he en-
tered into a treaty with France ; by which it was
agreed that a marriage should be concluded be-
tween the dauphin of France, afterwards Louis
XL, and the young princess of Scotland ; and so
great was the necessity of Charles VII. for troops
at that time, that he demanded only 6000 forces
as a portion for the princess. The rest of the
reign of James was spent in reforming' abuses,
curbing the authority of the great barons, and
recovering the royal estates. In this, however,
he used so much severity that lie was at last
murdered in 1437. The perpetrators of this re-
gicide were the earl of Athol ; Robert Graham
who was connected with the earl, and discon-
tented on account of his losing the estate of
Strathern; and Robert, grandchild and heir to
Athol, and one of the king's domestics. The
king had dismissed his army, without even re-
serving to himself a body guard, and was at
supper in the Dominican convent of the Black
friars near Perth : Graham had for some time
been at the head of a band of outltws, and
brought a party of them to Perth in the dead of
the night, posting them near the convent. Walter
Stratton, one of the king's cupbearers, on bring-
ing some wine to the king while at supper, per-
ceived armed men in the passage, and gave the
alarm, when he was immediately killed. Ca-
tharine Douglas, one of the queen's maids of
honor, ran to bolt the outer door; but the bar
was taken off by Robert Stuart; and, the lady
thrusting her arm into the staple, it was instantly
broken. Patrick Dunbar, brother to the earl of
March, was killed in attempting to defend, his
sovereign, and the queen received two wounds
in attempting to interpose herself betwixt her
husband and the assassins. James defended
himself as long as he could ; but was over-
powered at last after receiving twenty-eight
wounds.
The crown now devolved upon his son James
II., at that time only seven years of age. A.
parliament was immediately called by the queen-
mother, at which the most cruel punishments
were decreed to the murderers of the late king.
The crime, no doubt, deserved an exemplary
punishment ; but the barbarities inflicted on
some of those wretches are shocking to relate.
Within less than six weeks after the death of the
kin*:, all of them were brought to Edinburgh,
arraigned, condemned, and executed ; the c-ari
of Athol and Robert Graham undergoing the
most cruel torments, such as pinching with hot
irons, dislocation of the joints, Sec. The earl of
Athol had, besides, a crown of red hot iron put
on his head, and was afterwards cut up alive,
his heart taken out, and thrown into a fire.
/Eneas Sylvius, the pope's nuncio, who beheld
them, said on this occasion that he was at a UK;
to determine whether the crime committed by
the regicides or the punishment inflicted upon
them was the greatest. As the late king had
prescribed no form of a regency, in case of hi<
death, the settlement of the government bo.
a matter of great difficulty. Archibald eail of
Douglas, who had been created duke of Tou-
raine in France, was by far the greatest subject
in the realm ; but as he had not been a favorite,
and the people were now disgusted with regen-
cies, he was not formally appointed to the
administration, though he in fact enjoyed the su-
preme power as long as he lived ; which, how-
ever, was but a short time. He died the same
year (1438); and Sir Alexander Livingstone of
Callendar was appointed to succeed him as
governor of the kingdom, that is, to have the ex-
ecutive power, while William Crichton, as chan-
cellor, had the direction of the civil courts. Tins
was a most unfortunate partition of power for
the public. The governor and chancellor quar-
relled ; the latter took possession of the king's
person and the castle of Edinburgh, to neither of
which he had any right ; while the former had
on his side the queen mother, a woman of intrigue
and spirit. Her son was shut up in the castle
of Edinburgh ; and in a short lime there was
no appearance either of law or government. The
governor's edicts were counteracted by those of
the chancellor in the king's name, and those who
obeyed the chancellor were punished by the
SCOTLAND.
449
governor ; while the young earl of Douglas, with
his numerous followers and dependents, was a
declared enemy of both parties. The queen-
mother demanded access to her son, which Crich-
ton could not deny her; and she was accordingly
admitted, with a small train, into the castle. She
played her part so well, and dissembled with so
much art, that the chancellor, imagining that she
had become a convert to his cause, treated her
with unbounded confidence. Pretending that
she had vowed a pilgrimage to the white church
at Buchan, she recommended the care of her
son's person, till her return, to the chancellor,
in the most affectionate terms ; but, in the mean
time, she secretly sent him to Leith, packed up
in a clothes chest; and both she and James were
received at Stirling by the governor before the
escape was known. As every thing had been
managed in concert with Livingstone, he called
together his friends, and laying before them the
tyrannical behaviour of the chancellor, it was
resolved to besiege him in the castle of Edin-
burgh, the queen promising to open her own
granaries for the use of the army. In the mean
time, the chancellor anticipating the storm, and
applying to the earl of Douglas, that haughty
nobleman answered him that he was preparing
to exterminate both parties. The siege of Edin-
burgh castle being formed, the chancellor de-
manded a parley, and to have a personal inter-
view with the governor ; which the latter, who
knew the sentiments of Douglas, readily agreed
to. Common danger united them, and the chan-
cellor resigning to the other the custody of the
castle and the king's person, with the highest
professions of duty and loyalty, the two compe-
titors swore an inviolable friendship. Next day
the king cemented their union, by confirming
both in their respective charges. The lawless
example of the earl of Douglas encouraged the
other great landholders to gratify their private
animosities, sometimes at the expense of their
honor, as well as their humanity : and a family
difference having occurred between Sir Allan
Stuart of Darnley, and Thomas Boyd of Kilmar-
nock ; it was settled that both parties should
come to a peaceable agreement at Polmaisthorn,
between Linlithgow and Falkirk, where Stuart
was treacherously murdered by his enemy. His
death was revenged by his brother, Sir Alexander
Stuart of Beilmouth, who challenged Boyd to a
pitched battle, the principals being each attended
by a small army. The conflict was fierce and
bloody, eacli party retiring in its turn, and
charging with fresh fury ; but at last victory de-
clared for Stuart, the bravest of Boyd's atten-
dants being cut off in the field. About this time
the islanders, under two of their chieftains,
Lauchlan Maclean and Murdoch Gibson, noto-
rious freebooters, invaded Scotland, and ravaged
the province of Lenox. They were opposed by
John Colcuhoun of Luss, whom they slew, some
say treacherously, and others in an engagement
at Lochlomond, near Inchmartin. After this the
robbers became more outrageous than ever : all
the laboring hands in the kingdom being engaged
in domestic broils, and a dreadful famine en-
sued, attended, as usual, by a pestilence. James
IT. was now about ten years of age ; and the
VOL. XIX.
wisest part of the kingdom, agreed that the pub-
lic distresses were owing to a total disrespect of
the royal authority. The young earl of Douglas
never had fewer than 1000, and sometimes 2000
horse in his train, lie pretended to be indepen-
dent of the king and the law; that he had a
right of judicature upon his own large estates;
and that he was entitled to the exercise of royal
power. He gave protection to thieves and mur-
derers, affecting to brave the king, made knights,
and, according to some writers, endowed certain
noblemen, of his own dependents, with a power
of sitting in parliament. The queen-mother was
not wholly guiltless of those abuses. She had
fallen in love with, and married Sir James Stuart,
commonly called the Black Knight of Lorn,
brother to the lord of that title, and a descendant
of the house of Darnley. Affection for her
husband caused her to renew her political in-
trigues ; her interest inclined towards the party
of the Douglasses. The governor sought to
strengthen his authority by restoring the exercise
of the civil power. The conduct of lord Cal-
lendar was not so defensible, either as to pru-
dence or policy. When the queen expressed her
desire that her husband might be admitted to
some part of the administration, the governor
threw both him and his brother lord Lorn into
prison, on a charge of disloyal practices. The
queen, being offended at this, was herself con-
fined to a mean apartment in the castle of Stir-
ling ; and a convention of the states was called
to judge in what manner she was to be pro-
ceeded against. The case was difficult ; nor is
it probable that the governor would have carried
matters to such extremity, had he not had strong
evidences of her illegal behaviour. She was
obliged to dissemble her resentment, by profess-
ing before the states that she had always been
entirely innocent of her husband's practices.
Upon making this purgation (as Lindsay calls
it) she was released, with her husband and his
brother, being bailed by the chancellor and the
lord Gordon, who became sureties for their good
behaviour in the penalty of 4000 merks. The
govenior was afterwards accused of many arbi-
trary and partial acts : but if we consider his
situation, and the violence of the parties, it was
almost impossible, consistently with his own
safety, to have exerted the virtues either of pa-
triotism or moderation. The chancellor was
piqued at the small regard which the governor
pajd to his person and dignity, and secretly
connected himself with the queen-mother. The
king and his mother continued at Stirling ;
where the governor, on pretence of consulting
the public safety, and that of the king's person,
maintained a strong, guard. The queen-mother
represented this to her son as a restraint upon
his liberty; and, obtaining his consent to put
himself into the chancellor's hands, the latter, a
man of activity and courage, crossing the Forth in
the dark with a strong body of horse, surrounded
the king as he was hunting : and, when some of
the guards offered to dispute the possession of
his person, Sir William Livingston, the gover-
nor's eldest son, restrained them, and suffered
the king to depart. This happened when the
governor was absent from Stirling ; and the clian-
2 G
450
SCOTLAND.
cellor entered Edinburgh at the head of 4000
horse, where the king and he were joyfully re-
ceived. The governor showed no emotion at
what had happened ; on the contrary, he invited
the chancellor to an interview, to settle all differ-
ences. Lord Douglas, however, continued to brave
both parties. He demanded by his ambassadors,
Malcolm Fleming of Cumbernauld, and Allan
Lawder, the investiture of the sovereignty of Tou-
raine from Charles VII. of France ; which, being
readily granted, served to increase his insolence.
The first-fruits of the accommodation between
the two great officers of state was the holding of
a parliament at Edinburgh, for redressing the
public disorders; and encouragement was given
to all persons who had been injured by Douglas
to make their complaints. The numbers which
on that occasion resorted to Edinburgh were in-
credible ; parents, children, and women, de-
manding vengeance for the murder of their rela-
tions, or the plunder of their estates; till, by the
multiplicity of their complaints, they became
without remedy, none being found bold enough
to encounter the earl, or to endeavour to bring
him to a fair trial. The parties, therefore, were
dismissed without relief, and it was resolved to
proceed with that haughty noble in a different
manner. Letters were written to him by the
governor aud chancellor in the name of the
states, requesting him to appear with his friends
in parliament, and to take that lead in public af-
fairs to which they were entitled by their high
rank and possessions: and the manner in which
these letters were penned operated effectually
on his vanity, and made the earl consider them
as proceeding from the inability of the govern-
ment to continue the administration of affairs
without him. Without suspecting that any man
in Scotland would be so bold as to attack him,
he wrote to the chancellor and governor that he
intended to set out for Edinburgh: when the
chancellor, on pretence of doing him honor,
met him on his journey ; and, inviting him to
the castle of Crichton, entertained him there for
some days. The chancellor had not only re-
moved the earl's suspicion, but had made him a
kind of convert to patriotism, by painting to him
the miseries of his country, and the glory that
must redound to him and his friends in removing
them. He therefore attended the chancellor to
Edinburgh ; and, being admitted into the castle,
dined at table with the king. Towards th'e end
of the entertainment, a bull's head, the certain
prelude of immediate death, was served up. The
earl and his brother started to their feet, and en-
deavoured to escape ; but the armed men, rush-
ing in, overpowered them, and, tying their hands
and those of Sir Malcolm Fleming with cords,
they were carried to the hill and beheaded. The
young king endeavoured, with tears, to procure
their pardon ; for which he was severely checked
by his unrelenting chancellor.
In 1443 the king, being arrived at the age of
fourteen, declared himself out of the years of
minority, and took upon himself the adminis-
tration of affairs. He appears to have been a
prince of great spirit and resolution ; and he had
occasion for it. Having appointed one Robert
.Sempil of Fulwood governor of the castle of
Dumbarton, he was killed by one Galbreath (a
noted partizan of the earl of Douglas), who
seized upon the government of the castle. The
young earl of Douglas, rinding himself not sup-
ported by the chief branches of his family, be-
gan to think his safest course would be to return
to his duty. He accordingly repaired to the
king at Stirling; and, throwing himself at his
feet, implored his pardon. The king, finding
that he insisted on no terms but that of pardon,
and that he had unconditionally put himself into
his power, not only granted his request, but
made him the partner of his councils. James
had always disliked the murder of the earl of
Douglas and his brother ; and the chancellor, per-
ceiving the ascendancy which this earl was daily
gaining at court, thought it high time to provide
for his own safety. He therefore resigned the
great seal, and retired to the castle of Edin-
burgh, the custody of which he pretended had
been granted to him by the late King during his
life, or till the present king should arrive at the
age of twenty-one. Lord Callendar, who knew
himself equally obnoxious as Crichton, and that
he could not maintain his footing by himself,
resigned likewise all his posts, but kept posses-
sion of the castle of Stirling. As both this and
that of Edinburgh were royal forts, the two
lords were summoned to surrender them ; but,
instead of complying, they justified their con-
duct by the great power of their enemies, who
had been so lately at the head of robbers and
outlaws ; but promised to surrender themselves
to the king as soon as he was of lawful age.
This answer being deemed contumacious, the
chancellor and the late governor, with his two
sons Sir Alexander and Sir James Livingston,
were proclaimed traitors in a parliament sum-
moned to meet at Stirling. In another parlia-
ment held at Perth the same year, an act was
passed that all the lands and goods which had
belonged to the late king should be possessed by
the present to the time of his lawful age. This
act was levelled against the late governor and
chancellor, who were accused of having alien-
ated to their own uses, or to those of their
friends, a great part of the royal effects and
jewels ; and, their estates being confiscated, the
execution of the sentence was committed to
John Forrester of Corstorphin, and other adhe-
rents of the earl of Douglas. The sentence
threw the whole nation into a flame. The castle
of Crichton was besieged; and, being surren-
dered upon the display of the royal banner, it
was levelled with the ground. It soon appeared
that the governor and chancellor, the latter espe-
cially, had many friends ; and in particular Ken-
nedy bishop of St. Andrew's, nephew to James
I., who sided with them from the drea»' and ha-
tred they bore to Douglas. Crichton thus soon
found himself at the head of a body of men ;
and, while Forrester was carrying fire and sword
into his estates and those of the late governor,
his own lands and those of the Douglasses were
overrun. Corstorphin, Abercorn, Blackness,
and other places were plundered ; and Crichton
carried off from them more booty than he and
his adherents had lost. Douglas was so much
exasperated by the great losses he had sustained,
SCOTLAND.
451
that he engaged his friends, the earl of Crawford
and Alexander Ogilvy of Innerquharity, to lay
waste the lands of the bishop of St. Andrew's,
whom he considered as the chief support of the
two ministers. This prelate was not more con-
siderable by his high birth than he was vene-
rable for his virtue ; and had, from a principle
of conscience, opposed the earl of Douglas and
his party. Being conscious he had done nothing
that was illegal, he first admonished the earl of
Crawford and his coadjutor to desist from de-
stroying his lands ; but, finding his admonitions
ineffectual, he laid the earl under excommuni-
cation. That nobleman was almost as formi-
dable in the northern, as Douglas had been in
the southern parts of Scotland. The Benedictine
monks of Aberbrothick had chosen Alexander
Lindsay, his eldest son, to be judge of their
temporalities, until Lindsay proved so charge-
able, by the number of his attendants and his
high manner of living, to the monks, that their
chapter removed him from his post, and substi-
tuted in his place Alexander Ogilvy of Inner-
quharity, guardian to JoWn Ogilvy of Airley,
who had an hereditary claim upon the bailiwic.
This, notwithstanding their former intimacy, cre-
ated an irreconcileable difference between the
two families. Each competitor strengthened
himself by calling in the assistance of his friends ;
and the lord Gordon taking part with the Ogil-
vies, to whom he was paying a visit, both par-
ties immediately mustered in the neighbourhood
of Aberbrothick. The earl of Crawford, who
was at Dundee, immediately posted to Aberbro-
thick, and, placing himself between the two ar-
mies, demanded an interview with Ogilvy ; but,
before his request could be granted, he was kil-
led by a common soldier. His death exasperated
his friends ; and a bloody conflict ensued, which
ended to the advantage of the Lindsays, that is,
the earl of Crawford's party. On that of the
Ogilvies were killed Sir John Oliphant of Aber-
dalgy, John Forbes of Pitsligo, Alexander Bar-
clay of Gartley, Robert Maxwel of Teling,
Duncan Campbell of Campbellfether, William
Gordon of Burrowfield, and others. With these
gentlemen, about 500 of their followers are said
to have fallen. Innerquharity was taken pri-
soner, and carried to the earl of Crawford's house
at Finhaven, where he died of his wounds ; but
lord Gordon escaped by the swiftness of his
horse. This battle seems to have kindled the
flames of civil discord all over the kingdom.
No regard was paid to the magistracy, nor to any
but the clergy. The most numerous, fiercest,
and best allied family wreaked its vengeance on
its foes, either by force 01 treachery ; and the
enmity that actuated the parties stifled every
sentiment of honor and humanity. The Lind-
says, secretly abetted by the earl of Douglas,
curried fire and sword through the estates of
their enemies ; and all the north of Scotland pre-
sented scenes of murder and devastation. In
the west, Robert Boyd of Duchal, governor of
Dumbarton, treacherously surprised Sir James
Stuart of Achmynto, and treated his wife with
such inhumanity that she expired in three days
in Dumbarton castle. The castle of Dunbar
was taken by Patrick Hepburn of Hales. Alex-
ander Dunbar dispossessed the latter of his castle
of Hales; but it was retaken by the partisans of
the earl of Douglas, whose tenants in Annandale
behaved with peculiar fierceness and cruelty.
At lust the gentlemen of the country, uncon-
nected with these robbers and murderers, shut
themselves up in their several houses ; each of
which in those days was a petty fortress, victu-
alled, and provided in the best manner they
could. This seems to have been the h'rst nW-
sure that composed the public commotions.
The earl of Douglas was sensible that the clergy
and the disinterested part of the kingdom con-
sidered him as the source of the calamities
which the nation suffered ; and that James him-
self would soon be of the same opinion. He
therefore sought to avail himself of the juncture,
by forming secret but strong connexions with
the earls of Crawford, Ross, and other great no-
blemen, who wanted to see their feudal power
restored. The queen dowager and her husband,
during this public confusion, had retired to the
castle of Dunbar, while it was in Hepburn's
possession, where she died soon after. She left
by her second husband three sons ; John, who
in 1455 was made earl of Athole ; James, who
in 1469, was created earl of Buchan; and An-
drew who became bishop of Murray. As the
earl of Douglas was an enemy to the queen-
dowager's husband, the latter retired to England,
where he obtained a pass to go abroad ; but,
being taken at sea by Flemish pirates, died in
confinement. The great point between the king
and Sir William Crichton, whether the latter
should give up the castle to his majesty, re-
mained still undecided ; and by the advice of
the earl of Douglas, who had been created lord-
lieutenant of the kingdom, it had now suffered
a nine months' siege. Crichton and his follow-
ers were offered a full indemnity for past of-
fences, and restoration to the king's favor : when
he accepted of the conditions, but refused to act
in any public capacity till they were confirmed
by a parliament. This was soon held at Perth,
and he was restored to his estate and honors.
By this reconciliation between Douglas and
Crichton, the former was left at full liberty to
prosecute his revenge against lord Callendar,
the late governor, and this he did with rigor.
The governor himself, Sir James Dundass of
Dundass, and Sir Robert Bruce of Clackman-
nan, were forced to save their lives by the loss
of their estates ; but they were sent prisoners to
the castle of Dumbarton. Alexander, the go-
vernor's eldest son, and two other gentlemen of
his name and family, were condemned to los.~
their heads. Lindsay gives an extract of the
speech which Alexander Livingston, one of the
most accomplished gentlemen of his time, made
upon the scaffold, in which he complained with
great bitterness of the cruel treatment his father,
himself, and friends had undergone; and that he
suffered by a packed jury of his enemies.
The king being about eighteen years of age,
it was now thought proper that a suitable con-
sort should be provided for him ; and, after va-
rious consultations, Mary, the daughter of Arnold
duke of Gueldres, was chosen, at the recommen-
dation of Charles VII. of France. This produced
2 G 2
452
SCOTLAND.
an immediate rupture with England. The earls
of Salisbury and Northumberland entered Scot-
land at the head of two armies. The former
burnt the town of Dumfries, as the latter did
that of Dunbar; while Sir John Douglas of
Balveuy made reprisals by plundering the
county of Cumberland, and burning Alnwick.
Upon the return of the English to their own
country, additional levies were made, and a
fresh invasion of Scotland was resolved upon
under the earl of Northumberland, who had a
lieutenant, whom the Scots, from the bushiness
and color of his beard, called Magnus with the
red mane. He was an excellent officer, having
been trained in the French wars ; and is said to
have demanded no other recompense for his ser-
vices, from the English court, than that he should
enjoy all he could conquer in Scotland. The
Scots, in the mean time, had raised an army
commanded by George Douglas earl of Ormond,
and under him by Wallace of Craigie, with the
lords Maxwell and Johnston. The English, having
passed Solway Frith, ravaged all that part of the
country which belonged to the Scots; but, hear-
ing that the earl of Ormond was approaching,
called in their parties, and fixed their camp on
the banks of the Sark. Their advanced guard
was commanded by Magnus ; their centre by the
earl of Northumberland ; and theii iear, which
was composed of Welsh, by Sir John Penning-
ton, an officer of courage and experience. The
right wing of the Scots was commanded by
\Vallace, the centre by the earl of Ormond, and
their left wing by the lords I\iaxwell and John-
ston. Before the battle, the earl of Ormond
endeavoured to inspire his men with high re-
sentment against the English, who, he said,
had treacherously broken the truce. The signal
being given, the Scots under Wallace rushed for-
ward upon their enemies ; but, as usual, were
received by so terrible a discharge from the Eng-
lish archers that their impetuosity must have
been stopped, had not their brave leader put
them in mind that their forefathers had always
been defeated in distant fights by the English,
and that they ought to trust only to their swords
and spears. They obeyed, and broke in upon
the English, commanded by Magnus, with such
fury as soon fixed the fortune of the day on the
side of the Scots. The slaughter (for both parties
fought with the utmost animosity) fell chiefly upon
the division commanded by Magnus, who was
killed, together with the whole of his body guard
of picked soldiers. Sir John Pennington's divi-
sion, with that under the earl of Northumber-
land, was likewise routed ; and the whole Eng-
lish army, struck by the loss of their champion,
fled towards the Solway ; where, the river being
swelled by the tide, numbers of them were
drowned. The loss of the English in slain
amounted to at least 3000 men. Among the pri-
soners were Sir John Pennington, Sir Ilobert
Harrington, and the earl of Northumberland's
eldest son, the lord Percy, who lost his own
liberty in forwarding his father's escape. Of
the Scots about 600 were killed ; but none of
note excepting the brave Wallace, who died
three months after of his wounds. The booty
on this occasion is said to have been greater
than any that had fallen to the Scots since t'i j
buttle of Bannockburn. The rest of the hi>tory
of this reign is almost entirely a relation of the
cabals and conspiracies of the nobles and other
chiefs. The earl of Douglas had entered into a
confederacy with the earls of Crawford, Morav,
and Ross, and appeared on all occasions with
such a train of followers as bade defiance to the
royal power. This insolence was detested by tin-
wiser part of the nation; and Maclellan, who
was nephew to Sir Patrick Gray, captain of tic-
king's guard, refused to give any attendance
upon the earl. This inoffensive behaviour was
by the latter considered as a kind of treason,
and seizing upon Maclellan 's house and person,
he sent him prisoner to the castle of Dougla--.
As Maclellan was a gentleman of great worth
and reputation, his uncle Sir Patrick applied to
James in his favor; who wrote and signed a,
letter for his release : and, upon Gray's delivering
this letter to Douglas at his castle, the latter
seemed to receive it with the highest respect,
and to treat Gray with hospitality ; but in the
mean time he gave private orders that Maclel-
lan's head should be struck off, and his body
exposed upon the green before the castle. After
dinner the earl told Gray that he was ready to
obey the king's commands; and, conducting him
to the green, showed him the lifeless trunk.
Upon this Gray mounted his horse, and, trusting
to his swiftness for safety, was pursued by the
earl's attendants to the gates of Edinburgh. The
conspiracy against James's government was now
no longer a secret. The lords Balveny and Ha-
milton, with such a number of other barons and
gentlemen, had acceded to it, that it was thought
to be more powerful than all the force the
king could bring into the field. Even Crichton
advised James to dissemble. The confederates,
entered into a solemn bond and oath never to
desert one another : all who did not enter into
this association were treated as enemies to the
public ; their lands were destroyed, their effects
plundered, and they themselves imprisoned or
murdered. Drummond says that Douglas was
now able to bring 40,000 men into the field ;
and that his intention was to have usurped the
crown. When James invited him to a confer-
ence in the castle of Stirling, he offered to com-
ply, provided he had a safe conduct ; which was
expedited in the form and manner required.
The earl began his inarch with his usual great
retinue, and arrived at Stirling on Shrove Tues-
day, lie was received by the king as if he had
been the best of his friends, and admitted to sup
with his majesty, while his attendants were dis-
persed in the town. The entertainment being
over, the king told the earl, ' That, as he was
now of age, he was resolved to be the father of
all his people, and to take the government into
his own hands ; that he, therefore, had no reason
to be under any apprehensions from his old ene-
mies Callendar and Crichton ; that there was no
occasion to form any confederacies, as the law
was ready to protect him ; and that he was wel-
come to the principal direction of affairs under
the crown, and to the first place in the royal
confidence ; nay, that all former offences done
by himself and his friends should be pardoned.'
SCOTLAND.
453
This speech was the very reverse of what the
carl of Douglas expected. It rendered him,
indeed, the first subject of the kingdom ; but
still he was controlable by the civil law. In
short, upon the king's peremptorily putting the
question to him, he not only refused to dissolve
the confederacy, but upbraided the king for his
government. This produced a passionate re-
joinder ton the part of James; but the earl
represented that he was under a safe conduct,
and that the nature of the confederacy was such
that it could not be broken but by the common
consent of all concerned. The king insisted upon
his setting the example; and, the earl continuing
more and more obstinate, James stabbed him
\vith his dagger, and armed men, rushing into
the room, finished the slaughter. After the death
of the earl of Douglas the confederacy came to
nothing. The insurgents excused themselves as
being too weak for such an enterprise ; and were
contented with trailing the safe conduct at a
horse's tail, and proclaiming by trumpets and
horns the king a perjured traitor. They pro-
ceeded no farther, and each departed to his own
habitation, after agreeing to assemble with fresh
forces about the beginning of April. James lost
no time in improving this shoit respite ; and
found the nation in general much better disposed
in his favor than he had reason to expect. The
intolerable oppressions of the great barons made
his subjects esteem the civil far preferable to the
feudal subjection, and even the Douglasses were
divided among themselves; for the earl of An-
gus and Sir John Douglas of Dalkeith were
among the most forward of the royalists. James
at the same time wrote letters to the earl of
Huntly, to all the noblemen who were not par-
iius in the confederacy, and to the ecclesiastics,
ii.'fore the effect of those letters could be known,
insurgents had returned to Stirling (where
••s still kept himself upon the defensive);
ited their insolence, and the opprobrious
ueiit of his safe conduct; and at last plun-
dered the town, and laid it in ashes. Being
iil unable to take the castle, partly through
their own divisions, and partly through the di-
versity of their operations, they left Stirling, and
destroyed the estate of Sir John Douglas of
Dalkeith, whom they considered as a double
traitor. They then besieged his castle; but it
\v;is so bravely defended by Parick Cockburn, a
gentleman of the family of Langton, that they
raised the siege. All this time the unhappy
countrjf was suffering the most cruel devasta-
tions ; for matters were now come to such ex-
tremity that it was necessary for every man to
be a royalist or a rebel. The king was obliged to
keep on the defensive ; and, though he had ven-
tured to leave the castle of Stirling, he was in no
condition to face the rebels. They were in pos-
session of all the strong passes by which his
friends were to march to his assistance ; and he
even consulted with his attendants on the means
of escaping to France, where he was sure of an
hospitable reception. He was diverted from that
resolution by bishop Kennedy and the earl of
Angus, who was himself a Douglas, and pre-
vailed upon to wait for the event of the earl of
'.I'intly's attempts. This nublouian, who was
descended from the Seatons, but by marriage in-
herited the great estates of the Gordons in the
north, had raised an army for James, to whose
family he and his ancestors, by the Gordons as
well as the Seatons, had been always devoted.
James was not mistaken in the high opinion he
had of Huntly ; and in the mean time he issued
circular letters to the chief ecclesiastics and bo-
dies politic of his kingdom, setting forth the ne-
cessity he was under to proceed as he had done,
and his readiness to protect all his loyal subjects
against the power of the Douglasses and their
rebellious adherents. Before those letters could
have any effect, the rebels had plundered the
defenceless houses and estates of all who were
not in their confederacy. The indignation which
the public had conceived against the king, for
the violation of his safe conduct, began now to
subside; and the behaviour of his enemies
seemed to justify what had happened. The
forces he had assembled being unable, as yet, to
act offensively, he resolved to wait for the earl
of Huntly, who by this time was at the head of
a considerable army, and had begun his march
southwards. He had been joined by the Forbeses,
Ogilvies, Leslies, Grants, Irvings, and other rela-
tions and dependents of his family ; but, having
advanced as far as Brechin, he was opposed by
the earl of Crauford, the chief ally of the earl of
Douglas, who commanded the people of Angus,
and all the adherents of the rebels in the neigh-
bouring counties, headed by foreign officers. The
two armies joining battle, on the 18th of May,
victory was for some time in suspense ; till one
Coloss of Bonnymoon, or Balnamuin, on whom
Crauford had great dependence, but whom he
had imprudently disobliged, came over to the
royalists with the division he commanded, which
was the best armed part of Crauford's army.
His defection gave the fortune of the day to the
earl of Huntly, as it left the centre flank of Crau-
ford's army entirely exposed. He himself lost
one of his brothers; and fled with another, Sir
John Lindesay, to his house at Finhaven, where
he declared, ' That he would be content tore-
main seven years in hell, to have in so timely a
season done the king his master that service the
earl of Huntly had performed, and carry that
applause and thanks he was to receive from him.'
No author informs us of the loss of men on either
side, though all agree that it was very consider-
able upon the whole. The earl of Huntly lost
two brothers, William and Henry ; and to in-
demnify him for his services, and for the presents
he had made to his followers, the king gave him
the lands of Badenoch and Lochaber. The battle
of Brechin was not immediately decisive in
favor of the king, but proved so in its conse-
quences. The earl of Moray, a Douglas like-
wise, took advantage of Huntly's absence to
harass and ravage the estates of all the royalists
in the north ; but Huntly, returning from Bre-
chin with his victorious army, drove the enemy
into his own county of Moray, and afterwards
expelled him even thence. James was now
encouraged, by the advice of his kinsman bishop
Kennedy, to proceed against the rebels in a
leu.il manner, by holding a parliament at Edin-
burgh, to which the confederated lords were
454
SCOTLAND.
summoned ; and, upon their non-appearance,
declared traitors. This proceeding seemed to
make the. rebellion rage more fiercely ; and at
last the confederates disowned their allegiance to
James. The earls of Douglas, Crauford, Or-
mond, Moray, the lord Balveny, Sir James
Hamilton, and others, signed public manifestoes,
which were pasted on the doors of the principal
churches, importing ' that they were resolved
never to obey any command or charge, nor
answer any citation for the time coming ; because
the king, so far from being a just master, was a
bloodsucker, a murderer, a transgressor of hos-
pitality, and a surpriser of the innocent.' These
atrocious proceedings did no service, however,
to their cause. The earl of Huntly continued
victorious in the north, where he and his follow-
ers, in revenge for the earl of Moray's having
burnt his castle of Huntly, ravaged all Moray's
estate north of the Spey. When he came to
Forres, he burnt one side of the town because it
belonged to the earl, and spared the other, the
property of his own friends. James thought
himself, from the behaviour of Douglas and his
adherents, now warranted to come to extremi-
ties ; and, marching into Annandale, he carried
tire and sword through all the estates of the
Douglasses. The earl of Crauford destroyed
the lands of the people of Angus, and of all
others who had abandoned him at the battle of
Brechin. James, returning from Annandale to
Edinburgh, marched northwards to Angus, to
reduce the earl of Crauford, who had hitherto
deferred throwing himself at the king's feet, only
in hopes that better terms might be obtained
from James for himself and his party. Perceiv-
ing that the earl of Douglas's obstinacy had put
an end to all hopes of a treaty, he resolved to
make a merit of breaking the confederacy, by
being the first to submit. James, having arrived
in Angus, was continuing his march through the
country, when the earl and some of his chief
followers fell on their knees before him on the
road, bare-headed and bare-footed ; the earl
acknowledging his crimes, and imploring forgive-
ness. James was then attended by his chief
counsellors, particularly bishop Kennedy. He
asked their advice; which proving merciful,
James promised to the earl and his followers
restitution of all their estates and honors. The
earl, in gratitude, before the king left Angus,
joined him with a troop of his friends and fol-
lowers ; and, attending him to the north, was
extremely active in suppressing all the remains
of the rebellion there. The submission of the
earl of Crauford was followed by that of the
earl of Douglas ; but he soon resumed his rebel-
lious practices, and in 1454 raised an army to
fight against the king. The king erected his
standard at St. Andrew's, marched thence to
Falkland, and ordered all the forces of Fife,
Angus, Strathern, &c., to rendezvous at Stirling;
which they did to the number of 30,000.
Douglas assembled his forces, which amounted
to 40,000, some say 60,000 men, on the south
bank of the Carron, between Stirling and Aber-
corn. Bishop Kennedy had advised the king to
divide his enemies by offering them pardon
separately ; and thus in a few days the earl was
deserted by all his numerous army, excepting
about 100 of his nearest friends and domestics,
with whom he retired towards England. How-
ever, in his journey southward, he raised a con-
siderable body of forces, consisting of his own
tenants, of outlaws, robbers, and borderers, with
whom he renewed his depredations on the loyal
subjects of the king. He was opposed by the
earl of Angus, who continued firm in the royal
cause. An engagement ensued at Ancrum muir;
where Douglas was entirely defeated, and he
himself with great difficulty escaped to an adja-
cent wood. His estates were afterwards forfeited
to the king. The rest of the reign of James II.
was spent in internal regulations for the good of
his people. He was killed in 1460 at the siege
of Roxburgh castle, by the bursting of a cannon.
This siege he had undertaken in favor of the
queen of England, wife of Henry VI., who,
after losing several battles, and being reduced to
distress, was obliged to apply to him for relief.
The nobility who were present concealed his
death for fear of discouraging the soldiers ; and
in a few hours after the queen appeared in the
camp, and presented her young son James III.
as their king.
James III. was not quite seven years of age at
his accession to the crown. The administration
devolved on his mother, who pushed the siege of
Roxburgh castle with so much vigor that the
garrison capitulated in a few days ; after which
the army ravaged the country, and dismantled
the castle of VVark. In 1466 negociations were
begun for a marriage between the young king
and Margaret princess of Denmark ; and in
1468 the following conditions were stipulated; —
1. That the annual rent hitherto paid for the
northern isles of Orkney and Shetland should be
for ever remitted and extinguished. 2. That
king Christian I. should give 60,000 florins of
gold for his daughter's portion, whereof 10,000
should be paid before her departure from Den-
mark ; and that the islands of Orkney should be
made over to the crown of Scotland by way of
pledge for the remainder; with this proviso that
they should return to that of Norway after com-
plete payment. 3. That king James should, in
case of his dying before the said Margaret, leave
her in possession of the palace of Linlithgow,
and castle of Down, in Monteith, with all their
appurtenances, and the third part of the ordi-
nary revenues of the crown, to be enjoyed by
her during life. 4. But, if she chose to return to
Denmark, that in lieu of the said liferent, pa-
lace, and castle, she should accept of 120,000
florins of the Rhine; from which sum the
50,000 due for the remainder of her portion
being deduced and allowed, the islands of Ork-
ney should be reannexed to the crown of Nor-
way. When these articles were agreed upon,
Christian found himself unable to fulfil his part
of them. Being then engaged in an unsuccess-
ful war with Sweden, he could not advance the
10,000 florins which he had promised to pay
down as part of his daughter's fortune. He
was therefore obliged to apply to the plenipo-
tentiaries to accept of 2000, and to take a
farther mortgage of the isles of Shetland for the
other 8000. The Scottish plenipotentiaries, of
SCOTLAND.
450
whom Boyd, earl of Arran, was one, gratified
him in this request; and this concession is
thought to have proved fatal to the earl. Cer-
tain it is that his father was beheaded for trea-
sonable practices alleged to have been committed
long before, and for which he produced a par-
liamentary indemnity to no purpose ; the earl
himself was divorced from his wife, the king's
sister, and obliged to live in perpetual exile,
while the countess was married to another. In
1476 those misfortunes began to come on James
which afterwards terminated in his ruin. He
had made his brother, the duke of Albany, go-
vernor of Berwick ; and had entrusted him with
very extensive powers upon the borders, where a
violent propensity for the feudal law still con-
tinued. The Humes and the Ilepburns, then
the most powerful subjects in those parts, could
not brook the duke of Albany's greatness, espe-
cially after he had forced them, by virtue of a
late act, to part with some of the estates which
had been granted them in this and the preced-
ing reign. The pretended science of judicial
astrology, by which James was incredibly infa-
tuated, was the most effectual engine that could
work their purposes. One Andrew, an infamous
impostor in that art, had been brought over from
Flanders by James ; and he and Schevez, then
archbishop of St. Andrew's, concurred in per-
suading James that the Scottish lion was to be
devoured by his own whelps ; a prediction that,
to a prince of James's turn, seemed of certain
accomplishment. The condition to which James
reduced himself by his belief in astrology was
truly deplorable. The princes upon the conti-
nent were smitten with the same infatuation;
and the wretches who besieged his person had
no safety but by continuing the delusion in his
mind. According to Lindesay, Cochran, who
had some knowledge of architecture, and had
been introduced to James as a master mason,
privately procured an old woman, who pre-
tended to be a witch, and who heightened his
terrors by declaring that his brothers intended to
murder him. James believed her; and the un-
guarded manner in which the earl of Mar treated
his weakness, exasperated him so much, that the
earl was arrested, and committed to the castle of
Craig-miller; whence he was brought to the
Canongate, a suburb of Edinburgh, where he suf-
fered death. The duke of Albany w as at the castle
of Dunbar when his brother the earl of Mar's tra-
gedy was acted ; and James could not be easy
without having him likewise in his power. In
hopes of surprising him he marched to Dunbar;
but the duke, being apprised of his coming, fled
to Berwick, and ordered his castle of Dunbar to
be surrendered to the lord Evendale, though not
before the garrison had provided themselves with
boats and small vessels, in which they escaped
to England. He ventured to come to Edin-
burgh ; where James was so well served with
spies that he was seized, and committed close
prisoner to the castle, with orders that he should
speak with none but in the presence of his
keeper. The duke had probably suspected and
provided against this disagreeable event ; for we
are told that he had agents, who every day re-
paired to the castle, as if they had come from
court, and reported the state of matters between
him and the king, while his keepers were pre-
sent, in so favorable a light that they made no
doubt of his soon regaining his liberty, and being
readmitted to his brother's favor. The seeming
negociation at last went on so prosperously, that
the duke gave his keepers a kind of a farewell
entertainment, previous to his obtaining a formal
deliverance ; and they drank so immoderately
that, being intoxicated, they gave him an oppor-
tunity of escaping over the castle wall, by con-
verting the sheets of his bed into a rope. Who-
ever knows the situation of that fortress will be
amazed at the boldness of this attempt; we are
told that the duke's valet, the only domestic he
was allowed to have, making the experiment
before his master, broke his neck; upon which
the duke, lengthening the rope, slid down un-
hurt, and went on board a ship which his friends
had provided, and escaped to France. In 1482
the king began to feel the bad consequences of
taking into his favor men of worthless characters.
His great favorite at this time was Cochran,
whom he had raised from a low station to the
dignity of earl of Mar. All historians agree
that this man made a most infamous use of his
power. He obtained at last a liberty of coinage,
which he abused so much as to endanger an in-
surrection ; for he issued a base coin called black
money by the common people, which they re-
fused to take in payments. His skill in archi-
tecture had first introduced him to James ; but
he maintained his power by other arts ; for,
knowing that the king's predominant passion was
the lovejof money, he procured it by the meanest
and most oppressive methods. James haa other
favorites still less worthy of the royal counte-
nance ; Hommil, a taylor ; Leonard, a black-
smith; Torfifan, a dancing-master; and some
others. The favor shown to these men gave so
much offence to the nobility that, after some
deliberation, they resolved to remove the king,
with some of his least exceptionable domestics
(but without offering any violence to his person),
to the castle of Edinburgh ; and to hang all his
worthless favorites over Lauder bridge, the com-
mon place of execution. Their deliberation was
not kept so secret as not to come to the ears of
his favorites, who, suspecting the worst, wakened
James before day-break, and informed him of
the meeting. He ordered Cochran to repair to
it, and to bring him an account of the proceed-
ings. According to Lindesay, who seems to
have had very minute information as to this event,
Cochran . rudely knocked at the door of the
church, just after the assembly had finished their
consultation ; and, upon Sir Robert Douglas of
Lochleven informing them that the earl of Mar
demanded admittance, the earl of Angus or-
dered the door to be thrown open ; and, rushing
upon Cochran, 'pulled a massy gold chain
from his neck, saying, that a rope would be-
come him better; while Sir Robert Douglas
stripped him of a costly hunting horn he wore
by his side, telling him he had been too long the
hunter of mischief. Cochran, astonished, asked
them whether they were in jest or earnest, but
they soon convinced him they were in earnest,
by pinioning down his arms with a halter. The
456
SCOTLAND.
earl of Angus, with some of the chief lords, at-
tended by a detachment of troops, then repaired
to the king's tent, where they seized his other fa-
vorites, Thomas Preston, Sir William Rogers,
James Hommil, William Torfifan, and Leonard,
and upbraided him in rude terms with his mis-
conduct in government, and even in private life,
fames only interceded for the safety of a young
gentleman, Ramsay of Balmain. Cochran, with
his other favorites, were hanged over Lauder
bridge as proposed, and he himself was con-
ducted, under easy restraint, to the castle of
Edinburgh. Though confined, he here behaved
with great spirit ; and refused to pardon those
who had confined him, or had any hand in the
execution at Lauder. At last, however, he was
relieved by the duke of Albany, at the quail's
desire, lie accomplished his del'vtrance, as
some say, by surprising the castle of Edinburgh ;
others say the gates were opened, upon a formal
requisition made by two heralds ; the king then
repaired to the abbey of llolyrond-house with
his brother, who acted now as his first minister.
All the lords who were near the capital came to
pay him their compliments ; but James was so
much exasperated at what had happened that he
committed sixteen of them prisoners to the castle.
After his release James granted a patent to the citi-
zens of Edinburgh, and enlarged their privileges.
I n 1487 he finished the secret negotiations in which
!»e had engaged with Henry VII. king of Eng-
land. The principal articles agreed upon be-
iu'Uveen the two monarchs were, That kinj>
James's eldest son should marry Catherine, the
third Daughter of Edward IV., and sister to the
jirincess Elizabeth, then queen of England ; and
that James, who was now a widower, should
marry queen Elizabeth. A third marriage was
also to be concluded between the duke of Rothe-
say ami another daughter of Edward IV. To
complete these treaties, and end all controversies
concerning the town of Berwick, which the king
of Scotland much desired to possess, a congress
was to be held tlie ensuing year. In the mean
lime a most powerful confederacy was formed
against the king ; the origin of which was his
passion for architecture. Being pleased with
the situation of Stirling castle, he resolved to
give it all the embellishments which art could be-
stow ; and about this time made it the chief place
of his residence. He raised within it a hall,
ivhich at that time was deemed a noble structure ;
and a college, which he called the chapel royal,
endowed with an archdeacon who was a bishop,
u subdean, treasurer, chanter, &c., and a double
set of the other officers usually belonging to such
i ii>titutions. The expenses necessary for main-
taining these establishments were considerable,
and the king had resolved to assign the revenues
of the rich priory of Coldingham for that pur-
pose. This priory had been generally held by
the Hume family, who, through length of time,
considered it as their property ; they therefore
strongly opposed the king's intention. The dis-
pute seems to have lasted some years; for the
former parliament passed a vote annexing the
priory to the king's chapel royal ; and the par-
liament of this year had passed a statute strictly
prohibiting all persons, .spiritual and temporal,
to attempt any thing directly or indirectly, con-
trary or prejudicial to the said union and annex-
ation. The Humes resented their being stripped
of so gainful a revenue, the loss of which affected
most of the gentlemen of that name ; and they
united themselves with the Hepburns, another
powerful clan in that neighbourhood, in an asso-
ciation, by which both families engaged to stand
by each other, and not to suffer any prior to be
received for Coldingham, if he was not of one
of their surnames. The lords Gray and Drum-
mond soon joined the association; as did many
other noblemen and gentlemen, who had their
own causes of discontent. Their agents gave
ont, that the king was grasping at arbitrary
power ; that he had acquired his popularity by
deep hypocrisy ; and that he was resolved to be
signally revenged upon all who had any hand in
the execution at Lauder. The earl of Angus,
who was the soul of the confederacy, advised
the conspirators to apply to old earl of Douglas
to head them ; but that nobleman was now dead
to all ambition, and, instead of encouraging the
conspirators, pathetically exhorted them to break
off all their rebellious connexions, and return to
their duty. Finding he could not prevail with
them, he wrote to all the numerous friends and
descendants of his family, and particularly to
Douglas of Cavers, sheriff of Teviotdale, dissuad-
ing them from entering into the conspiracy,
some of his letters to this effect are still extant.
This great man survived the application but a;
short time ; for he died without issue at Lindores,
on the 15th of April, 1488; and in him ended
the first branch of that noble house. He was
remarkable for being the most learned of all the
Scotch nobility of his time, and for the comeliness
of his person.
James appears to have been no stranger to the
proceedings of the conspirators ; but, though he
dreaded them, he depended upon the protection
of the law, as they did upon his pusillanimity.
His degeneracy in this respect is remarkable.
Descended from a race of heroes, he was the
first of his family who had been branded with
cowardice. But his conduct at this time fully
justifies the charge. Instead of vigorously sup-
porting the execution of the laws in his own
person, he shut himself up in his castle of Stir-
ling, and raised a body guard ; the command of
which he gave to Bothwel, master of his house-
hold, lie likewise issued a proclamation, for-
bidding any person in arms to approach the
court; and Bothwel had a warrant to see the
same put into execution. Though the king's
proceedings in all this were perfectly agreeable
to law, yet they were given out by his enemies
as so many indications of his averson to the no-
bility, and served only to induce them to parade
the country in more numerous bodies. The
connexions entered into by James with Henry
alarmed the conspirators, however, and made
them resolved to strike the great blow, before he
could avail himself of an alliance that seemed to
place him above all opposition. The acquisition
of Berwick to the crown of Scotland, which was
looked upon to be as good as concluded ; the
marriage of the duke of Rothesay with the
'•itcr of the dowager and sister to the consort
SCOTLAND.
457
queen of England ; and, above all, the strict har-
mony which reigned between -James and the
states of his kingdom, rendered them in a man-
ner desperate. Besides the earl of Angus, the
earls of Argyle and Lennox favored the conspi-
rators ; yet their success may be said to have
been entirely owing to his English connexions;
which they made use of to affirm that Scotland
was soon to become a province of England, and
that James intended to govern his subjects by
an English force. These allegations inclined
many, even of the moderate party, to their cause ;
and they soon took the field, and appointed their
rendezvous ; until all the south of Scotland was
in arms. James continued to rely upon the au-
thority of his parliament ; and summoned, in the
terms of law, the insurgents to answer at the
proper tribunals for their breaches of the peace.
The conspirators, far from paying any regard to
his citations, tore them in pieces, buffeted and
otherwise maltreated the messengers, and set the
laws at open defiance. Even north of the Forth,
the heads of the houses of Gray and Drummond
spread the spirit of disaffection through the po-
pulous counties of Fife and Angus ; but the
counties north of the Grampians continued firm
in their duty. The duke of Rothesay was then
A promising youth about fifteen years of age ;
and the subjecting the kingdom of Scotland to
that of England being the chief, if not the only
. .uise urged by the rebels for their appearing in
arms, they naturally cast their eyes upon that
prince, as his appearance at their head would
irive strength and vigor to their cause ; and in
this they were not deceived. James, in the
mean time, finding that the inhabitants of the
southern provinces were either engaged in the
rebellion, or at best observed a cold neutrality,
embarked on board of a vessel which was then
lying in the frith of Forth, and passed to the
north of that river, not finding it safe to go by
land to Stirling. Arriving at the castle, he gave
orders that the duke of Rothesay should be put
under the care of Schaw, of Sauche, whom he
had made its governor, charging him not to suf-
fi>r that prince on any account to depart from the
fort. The rebels, giving out that James had fled
to Flanders, plundered his equipage and baggage
before they passed the Forth ; and thus supplied
themselves with a large sum of money, which
proved of the utmost consequence to their affairs.
They then surprised the castle of Dunbar, and
plundered the houses of every man to the south
of the Forth whom they suspected of being a
royalist. James was all this time making a pro-
gress, and holding courts of justice in the north,
where the great families were entirely devoted to
his service, particularly the earls of Huntley,
Kirol, and Marshal. But every day brought
him fresh alarms from the south. The conspira-
tors, notwithstanding the promising appearance
of their affairs, found, that in a short time their
cause must languish, and their numbers dwindle,
unless they wrre furnished with fresh pretexts,
and headed by a person of the greatest authority.
^ hile they were deliberating who that person
should be, the earl of Angus boldly proposed
the duke of Rothesay; and an immediate appli-
i .itioi; \va< made to Schaw, the young prince's
governor, who secretly favored their cause, and
was prevailed upon by a considerable sum of
money to put the prince into their hands, and
declare for the rebels. James, having ordered all
the forces of the north to assemble, hurried to
Perth, where he appointed the rendezvous of his
army, which amounted to 30,000 men. Among
the other noblemen who attended him was the fa-
mous lord David Lindsay of the Byres (an officer
of great courage and experience, having long
served in foreign countries), who headed 3000
foot and 1000 horse, mostly raised in Fifeshire.
Upon his approaching the king's person, he pre-
sented him with a horse of remarkable spirit and
beauty, and informed his majesty that he might
trust his life to his agility and sure-footedness.
The lord Ruthven, who was sheriff of Strathern,
and ancestor to the unfortunate earls of Gowry,
joined James at the head of 3000 well armed
men. The whole army being assembled, James
proceeded to Stirling ; but was astonished, when
he was not only denied entrance into the castle,
but saw the guns pointed against his person,
and understood, for the first time, that his son
was at the head of the rebels. Schaw pretended
that the duke of Rothesay had been carried oft'
against his will ; but the king's answer was,
' Traitor, thou hast deceived me ; and if 1 live I
shall be revenged on thee, and thou shall be re-
warded as thou hast deserved.' James lay that
night in the town of Stirling, where he was joined
by all his army ; and, understanding the rebels
were advancing, he formed his line of battle.
The earl of Athol, his uncle, who was trusted by
both parties, proposed an accommodation ;
which was effected, according to Abercromby
and other historians ; but the terms are not re-
corded. The earl of Athol surrendered himself as a
hostage into the hands of the rebels. James was
sensible of 'the advantage which public clamor
gave to his enemies ; and he applied to the kings
of France and England, and the pope, for their in-
terposition. His holiness named' Adrian de Cas-
tello for his nuncio on this occasion, and.the two
kings threatened to rarse troops for the service of
James. But he, by a strange fatality, left the strong
castle of Edinburgh, where he might have been in
safety till his friends reassembled ; and, crossing
the Forth, made another attempt to lie admitted
into the castle of Stirling. Again he was disap-
pointed, and informed that the rebels were at
Torwood in the neighbourhood, and ready to give
him battle. He was at this time in possession
of the castle of Blackness ; his admiral, VVood,
commanded the Forth ; and his loyal subjects in
the north were upon their march to join him.
Hawthornden says that, while he remained at
Blackness, he was attended by the earls of Mont-
rose, Glencairn, and lords Maxwell and Ruth-
ven. To give his northern friends time to join
him, he proposed a negociation ; but that was
soon at end, upon the rebels peremptorily re-
quiring him to resign his crown to his son, that
is, to themselves. The latter had been inured to
war, and consisted chiefly of borderers, well armed
and disciplined ; in which they had the advan-
tage of the king's Lowland subjects, who were
unaccustomed to arms. The forces of James
were at Falkirk; but they soon passed the Car-
458
SCOTLAND.
ron, encamped above the bridge near Torwood,
and made such dispositions as rendered a battle
unavoidable. He was encamped at a small
brook named Sauchie-burn, near the same spot
of ground where the great Bruco had defeated
the English under Edward II. The earl of
Monteith, the lords Erskine, Graham, Ruthven,
and Maxwell, commanded the first line of the
king's army. The second was commanded by
the earl of Glencairn, who was at the head of
the Westland and Highland men. The earl of
Crawford, with the lord Boyd and Lindsay of
Byres, headed the rear, wherein the kind's main
strength consisted, and where he himself ap-
peared in person, completely armed, and mounted
upon the horse which had been presented to him
by Lindsay. The first line of the royalists
obliged that of the rebels to give way ~, but, the
latter being supported by the Annandale men
and borderers, the first and second line of the
king's army were beat back. The little courage
James possessed had forsaken him on the first
onset ; and he put spurs to his horse, intending
to gain the banks of the Forth, and to go on
board one of Wood's ships. In passing through
the village of Bannockburn, however, a woman
who was filling her pitcher at a brook, frightened
at the sight of a man in armor galloping full
speed, left it behind her ; and, the horse taking
(right, the king was thrown to the ground, and
carried, bruised and maimed, by a miller into his
hovel. He immediately called for a priest to
make his confession ; and, the rustics demanding
his name and rank, * I was,' said he, ' your king
this morning.' The woman, running to the door,
called in a priest to confess the king : being in-
troduced into the hovel, he saw the king covered
\\ith a coarse cloth; and, kneeling by him, he
asked James whether he thought he could recover
if medically attended ? James answering in the
affirmative, the villain pulled out a dagger, and
.slabbed him to the heart. Such is the dark ac-
count given of this prince's unhappy end. The
name of the person who murdered him is said
to have been Andrew Borthwick, a priest, one of
the pope's knights. Some pretend that the lord
Gray, and others that Robert Stirling of Keir,
was the regicide ; and even Buchanan is uncer-
tain as to the name of the person who gave him
the fatal blow.
It is probable that the royalists lost the battle
through the cowardice of James. Even after his
flight his troops fought bravely; but they were
discouraged on receiving certain accounts of his
death. The prince, young as he was, had an
idea of the unnatural part he was acting, and be-
fore the battle had given a strict charge for the
safety of his father's person. Upon hearing that
he had retifed from the field, he sent orders that
none should pursue him ; but they were ineffec-
tual, the rebels being sensible that they could
have no safety but in the king's death. When that
was certified, hostilities seemed to cease ; nor were
the loyalists pursued. The number of slam
must have been considerable, as the earl of Glen-
cairn, the lords Sempil, Erskine, and Ruthven,
and other gentlemen of great eminence, are
mentioned. As to the duke of Rothesay, who
was now king, he appeared inconsolable when
he heard of his father's death ; but the rebels
endeavoured to efface his grief, by the profusion,
of honors they paid him as king. Seeing his
remorse and anguish, in reflecting on the un-
natural part he had acted, they became apprehen-
sive indeed for their own safety. The catastrophe
of James HI., however, was not yet become
public ; and it was thought that he had gone
aboard some of the ships belonging to Sir
Andrew Wood. Willing to indulge the hope as
long as possible, the prince desired an interview
with the admiral ; but the latter refused to come
on shore, unless he had hostages for his safety.
These being delivered, Sir Andrew waited upon
the young king at Leith. He had by messages
assured him that he knew nothing of his father ;
and had even offered to allow his ships to be
searched : yet such was the anxiety of the new
king that tie could not be satisfied till he had
examined him in person. Young James had
been long a stranger to his father. When Wood,
therefore, entered the room, he asked him, ' Are
you my father?' 'I am not,' replied Wood,
bursting into tears, 'but I was your father's
true servant, and while I live I shall be the de-
termined enemy of his murderers.' This did
not satisfy the lords, who demanded whether he
knew where the king was. The admiral replied
in the negative; and upon their questioning him
concerning his manoeuvres on the day of battle,
when his boats were seen plying backwards and
forwards, he told them that he and his brother
had determined to assist the king in person ;
but all they could do was to save some of the
royalists. ' I would to God,' says he, ' my
king was there safely ; for I would defend and
keep him skaithless from all the traitors who
have cruelly murdered him ; and I think yet to
see the day that shall behold them hanged and
drawn for their demerits.' This spirited decla-
ration, and the freedom with which it was de-
livered, struck the guilty part of the council with
dismay ; but the fear of sacrificing the hostages
procured Wood his freedom, and he was suffered
to depart. When he came on board his fleet, he
found his brother preparing to hang the two>
lords who had been left as hostages ; and this
would certainly have been their fate, had the ad-
miral been longer detained.
The council now removed to Edinburgh, where
James IV. was crowned on the 24th of June
1487. In October this year the nobility, and
others interested, converted themselves into a
parliament, and passed an act by which they
were indemnified for their rebellion against their
late sovereign ; after which the act was exempli-
fied under the great seal of Scotland, that it
might be produced in their justification, if called
for by any foreign prince. They next proceeded
to the arduous task of vindicating their rebellion
in the eyes of the public; and so far did they
gain upon the new king by flattery, that he con-
sented to summon the lords who had taken part
with his father, before the parliament, to answer
for their conduct. In consequence of this, no
fewer than twenty-eight lords were cited to ap-
pear at Edinburgh in the space of forty days.
The first upon the list was lord David Lindsay
of the Byres, who was called upon to answer for
SCOTLAND.
459
the cruel coming against the king at Bannock-
burn with his father, giving him council to have
devoured the king's grace here present ; and to
that effect giving him a sword and a good horse
to fortify him against his son.' Lord Lindsay
was remarkable for the bluntness of his conver-
sation and the freedom of his sentiments : being
irritated _by this charge, he delivered himself in
such a manner, concerning the treason of the re-
bellious lords, as abashed the boldest of them ;
and, as they were unable to answer him, all they
could do was to press him to throw himself upon
the king's clemency ; which he refused to do.
His brother, Patrick Lindsay, undertook to be
his advocate, and apologised upon his knees for
the roughness of his behaviour; upon which
Lindsay was released, on entering into recogni-
zance to appear again at an appointed day : how-
ever, he was afterwards sent prisoner by the
king's order, for a twelve-month, to the castle of
Rothesay. The regicides now endeavoured to
gain the public favor by affecting a strict admi-
nistration of justice. The king was advised to
make a progress through the kingdom, attended
by his council and judges ; while, in the mean
time, certain noblemen and gentlemen were ap-
pointed to suppress all kinds of disorders in their
own lands and those adjoining, till the king came
to the age of twenty-one. The memory of the late
king was branded in the most opprobious man-
ner. All justices, sheriffs, and stewards, who
were possessed of heritable offices, but who had
taken up arms for him, were either deprived of
them for three years, or rendered incapable of
possessing them for ever. All the young nobi-
lity, who had been disinherited by their fathers
for taking arms against the late kinsr, were, by
act of parliament, restored to their successions.
At last, to give a kind of proof to the world
that they intended only to resettle the state of
the nation, without prejudice to the lower ranks
of subjects, who did no more than follow the
examples of their superiors, it was enacted,
' That all goods and effects taken from the bur-
gesses, merchants, and those who had only per-
sonal estates, or, as they are called unlanded
men, since the battle of Stirling, were not only
to be restored, but the owners were to be indem-
nified for their losses ; and their persons, if in
custody, to be set at liberty. Churchmen, who
were taken in arms, were to be delivered over to
their ordinaries, to be dealt with by them accord-
ing to the law.' The castle of Dunbar was
ordered to be demolished ; and some statutes
were enacted in favor of commerce, and for the
exclusion of foreigners. These last acts were
passed with a view to recompense the boroughs,
who had been very active in their opposition to
the late king. Howevei the lords, before they
dissolved their parliament, thought it necessary
to give some public testimony of their disap-
proving the late connexion with England. It
was therefore enacted, ' That as the king was
now of age to marry a noble princess, born and
descended of a noble and worshipful house, an
honorable embassy should be sent to the realms
of France, Britanny, Spain, and other places, to
conclude the matter.' This embassy was to be
splendid : and to consist of a bishop, an earl, or
lord of parliament, a secretary, clergyman, and
knight. They were to be attended by fifty horse-
men ; and £5000 was allowed them for expenses :
they were empowered to renew the ancient
league between France and Scotland ; and, in
the mean time, a herald, or, as he was called, a
trusty squire, was sent abroad to visit the several
courts, to find out a proper match for the king.
One considerable obstacle, however, lay in the
way of this embassy. The pope had laid under
an interdict all those who had appeared in arms
against James III. ; and the party who now
governed Scotland were looked upon by all the
powers of Europe as rebels. The embassy was
therefore suspended for a considerable time, and
it was not till 1491 that the pope could be pre-
vailed upon to take off the interdict. In the
mean time the many good qualities which dis-
covered themselves in the young king began to
conciliate the affections of his people. Being
considered, however, as little better than a pri-
soner in the hands of his father's murderers,
several of the nobility made use of that as a pre-
text for taking arms. The most forward of these
was the earl of Lennox, who with 2000 men
attempted to surprise the town of Stirling ; but,
being betrayed by one of his own men, he was
defeated, and the castle of Dumbarton, of which
he was the keeper, taken by the opposite party.
In the north, the earls of Huntley and Mar-
shal, with the lord Forbes, complained that
they had been deceived, and declared their
resolution to revenge the late king's death.
Forbes, having procured the bloody shirt of the
murdered prince, displayed it on the point ot
a lance, as a banner under which all loyal sub-
jects should enlist themselves. However, after
the defeat of Lennox, the northern chieftains
found themselves incapable of marching south-
ward. The cause of the murdered king was
next undertaken by Henry VII. of England,
who made an offer to Sir Andrew Wood of five
ships to revenge it. The admiral accepted the
proposal ; but the English behaving as pirates,
and plundering indiscriminately all who came in
their way, he thought proper to separate himself
from them. Upon this James was advised to
send for the admiral, offer him a pardon, and a
commission to act against the English freebooters.
Wood accepted of the king's offer; and, being
well provided with ammunition and artillery, he,
with two ships only, attacked the five English
vessels, all of which he took, and brought their
crews prisoners to Leith. This conduct of
Wood was highly resented by the king of Eng-
land. The Scottish admiral's ships had been
fitted out for commerce as well as war, and
Henry commanded his best sea-officer, Sir Ste-
phen Bull, to intercept him on his return from
a commercial voyage to Flanders. Wood had
no more than two ships with him : the English
admiral had three ; and those much larger, and
carrying a greater weight of metal. The English
took their station at the island of May, in the
mouth of the Frith of Forth, and, having come
unawares upon the enemy, fired two guns as a
signal for their surrender. The Scottish com-
mander encouraged his men as well as he could ;
and, finding them determined to stand by him,
460
SCOTLAND.
began the engagement in sight of numberless
spectators on both sides of the Frith. The fight
continued all that day and was renewed with re-
doubled fury in the morning ; but, in the mean
time, the ebb-tide and a south wind had carried
both squadrons to the mouth of the Tay. Here
the English fought under great disadvantages, by
reason of the sand-banks ; and, before they could
get clear of them, all the three were obliged to
submit to the Scots, who earned them to Dun-
dee. Wood treated his prisoners with humanity ;
and, having afterwards presented them to king
James, the latter dismissed them not only with-
out ransom, but with presents, and a letter to
king Henry. To this the English monarch re-
turned a polite answer ; a truce was concluded,
and all differences were accommodated. James
all this time had continued to display such mo-
deration in his government, and appeared to
have the advantage of his subjects so much at
heart, that they became gradually well affected
to his government, and in 1490 all parties were
fully reconciled ; the next year the happiness of
his kingdom was completed by the pope taking
off his interdict, and giving the king absolution
for his father's death. Tranquillity being thus
restored, the negociations concerning the king's
marriage began to take place, but met with seve-
ral interruptions. In 1493 Henry VII. pro-
posed a match between James and his cousin,
the princess Catharine ; but this was treated with
contempt. Henry made in 1495 another offer
of alliance with James; proposing a marriage
betwixt him and his eldest daughter Margaret.
This proposal was accepted : but, at the time
in which he was negociating the marriage,
he not only protected Perkin Warbeck, the
avowed pretender to the crown of Henry, but
invaded England on his account. This conduct
was highly resented by the English parliament ;
but Henry himself forgave even this insult, and
the marriage negociations were resumed. The
bride was not more than ten years and six
months old ; and, being only the fourth degree
of blood from James, it was necessary to procure
a dispensation from the pope. This being ob-
tained, a treaty of perpetual peace was concluded
between the two nations, on the 1st of July,
1503, being the first that had taken place for 170
years, or since the peace of Northampton, be-
tween Robert I. and Edward III. One of the
great ends that Henry had in view in promoting
ihis marriage was to detach James from the
French interest; no sooner, therefore, was the
treaty signed, than he wrote to his son-in-law to
this purpose ; who, however, politely declined to
I reak with his ancient ally. On the 16th of
June, the royal bride set out from Richmond in
company with her father, who convoyed her as
far as Collyweston, the residence of his mother,
the countess of 'Richmond. After passing some
days there the king resigned his daughter to the
catc of the earls of Surrey and Northumberland.
On the borders of Scotland a number of her re-
tinue were permitted to take leave ; but those
who remained still made a royal appearance.
At L'linberton church they were met by James,
attended by a numerous train of his nobility and
officers of state; and at Kdinburgh the nuptials
were celebrated with the greatest splendor. On
this occasion the Scots vied, we are told, with
the most extravagant of their guests in luxury
and display. After the celebration of the nup-
tials James appears to have enjoyed a tranquil-
lity almost unknown to any of his predecessors ;
and began to make a considerable figure among
the European potentates. But the magnificence
of his court and embassies, his liberality to
strangers and to learned men, his costly edifices,
and, above all, the large sums he laid out in
ship-building, brought him into some difficulties ;
and he so far attended to the advice and example
of his father-in-law that he supplied his necessi-
ties by reviving dormant penal laws, particularly
with regard to wardships and old titles of estates.
Though he did this without assembling his par-
lament, yet he found agents who justified his
proceedings, in the manner of the English minis-
ters of the day, Empsom and Dudley. At last,
however, touched with the sufferings of his sub-
jects, he ordered all prosecutions to be stopped.
He even went farther : and, sensible of the detes-
tation into which his father-in-law's avarice had
brought himself and his administration, he
ordered the ministers who had advised him to-
these shameful courses to be imprisoned ; and
several of them died in confinement. About
this time James applied himself with incredible
assiduity to naval affairs ; one ship which he
built, the St. Michael, is supposed to have been,
the largest then in the world. She was 240 feet
long, thirty-six wide within the sides, and ten
feet thick. She carried 300 small artillery,
twelve cannons, and 1000 men. The expense
was £30,000. He worked with his own hands
in building it, and Scotland at this time pro-
duced excellent seamen. The first essay of his
arms by sea was in favor of his kinsman Joint
of Denmark. This prince was brother to Mar-
garet queen of Scotland ; and ha;l partly been
called to the throne of Sweden, and partly pos-
sessed it by force. He was opposed by the
administrator Sture, whom he pardoned after he
was crowned. Sture, however, renewing his re-
bellion, and the Norwegians revolting, John was
forced to return to Denmark; but left his queen
in possession of the castle of Stockholm, which
she bravely defended. This heroic princess be-
came a great favorite with James; and several
letters that passed between them are extant. The
king of Denmark, next to the French monarch,
was the favorite ally of James. It appears, from
the histories of the north, that both James and
his father had given assistance to him in reduc-
ing the Norwegians ; and he resolved to become
a party in the war against the Swedes, if they
continued in their revolt. Previous to this he
sent an ambassador to offer his mediation be-
tween John and his subjects. The mediation
was accepted and the negociations opened at
Calmar. The deputies of Sweden not attending,
John prevailed with those of Denmark and Nor-
way to pronounce sentence of forfeiture against
Sture and all his adherents. In the mean time
the siege of the castle of Stockholm \vas pressed
so warmly that the garrison was diminished to a
handful, destitute of all kind of provisions; so
that the brave queen \\a- Ibm d to capilulale ou
SCOTLAND.
461
condition that she should be suffered to depart
for Denmark ; a stipulation perfidiously violated
by Sture, she being confined in a monastery.
On this occasion James resolved to employ his
maritime power. He wrote a letter, conceived
in the strongest terms, to the archbishop of Up-
sal, the primate of Sweden, exhorting him to
employ all his authority in favor of the king;
and another to the Lubeckers, threaten ins to de-
clare war against them, as well as the Swedes, if
they continued to assist the rebels. According
to Hollingshed, James, in consequence of king
John's application, gave the command of an
army of 10,000 men to the earl of Arran, who
replaced John upon his throne. It is certain
that, had it not been for James, John must hare
sunk under his enemies. Sture, hearing that a
considerable armament was fitting out in Scot-
land, agreed to release the queen, and to con-
duct her to the frontiers of Denmark ; where he
died. By this time James's armament, which
was commanded by the earl of Arran, had set
sail ; but, perceiving that all matters were ad-
justed between John and the Swedes, the ships
returned sooner than James expected, ' which,'
says he, in a letter he wrote afterwards to the
queen, ' they durst not have done, had they not
brought me an account that her Danish majesty
was in perfect safety.' The severity of John
having occasioned a fresh revolt James again
sent a squadron to his assistance, which appeared
before Stockholm, and obliged the Lubeckers to
conclude a new treaty. James, having thus dis-
charged his engagements with his uncle, turned
his attention towards the Flemings and Hollan-
ders, who had insulted his flag, on account of the
assistance he had afforded the duke of Gueldres.
He gave the command of a squadron to Barton ;
who put to sea and treated all the Dutch and
Flemish traders who fell into his hands as
pirates, sending their heads in hogsheads to
James. Soon after Barton returned to Scot-
land, and brought with him a number of rich
prizes. James was then so much respected upon
the continent that no resentment was shown
either by the court of Spain, whose subjects
those Netherlanders were, or any other power in
Europe, for this vigorous proceeding. The
peace with England continued all the reign of
Henry VII. ; nor did our Henry VIII., though
he had not the same reason as his father to con-
ciliate the Scots, for some time show any dispo-
sition to break with them. A breach, however,
did soon take place. About thirty years before
John Barton, a relation of the above comman-
der, was taken in a trading vessel by two Portu-
guese captains; and Barton, with several Scotch-
men, were killed in defending their property.
The action was esteemed cowardly as well as pi-
ratical, because it was done under the protection
of a large Portuguese squadron. The ship and the
remaining part of the crew, with the cargo, were
carried to Portugal, whence no redress could be
obtained ; and James III. granted letters of
marque to John and Robert Bartons, heirs to the
Barton who had been murdered. Upon the
accession of James IV. the letters of marque
were recalled, and a friendly correspondence
was entered into between James and the king
of Portugal. No redress, however, was to be
had from the latter ; and Robert Barton being
made a prisoner, and his ship a prize, was
detained in Zealand, till James procured his
deliverance by applying in his favor to the
emperor Maximilian. Sir Andrew Barton
took part in the quarrel ; and, having ob-
tained a like letter of marque, he made dreadful
depredations on the Portuguese trade. Accord-
ing to English authors, he also plundered many
English ships, on pretence of their carrying
Portuguese property, and made the navigation
of the narrow seas dangerous to Englishmen.
The court of London received daily complaints
of his depredations ; but, Henry being averse to
quarrel with James, these complaints were heard
with coldness. The earl of Surrey had then two
sons ; and he declared to Henry's face that, while
he had an estate that could furnish out a ship,
or a son who was capable of commanding one,
the narrow seas should not be thus infested.
Henry could not discourage his generous offers ;
and letters of marque were accordingly granted
to the two young noblemen, Sir Thomas and
Sir Edward Howard. The prizes that Barton
had taken had rendered his ships immensely rich,
consequently they were heavy laden, and unfit
for fighting ; while the ships of the Howards
were clean, and of a superior force. After en-
countering a great deal of foul weather, Sir
Thomas Howard came up with the Lyon, com-
manded by Sir Andrew Barton ; and Sir Edward
fell in with the Unicorn, Barton's other ship.
The event was such a< might be expected from
the inequality of the match. Barton was killed,
while he was animating, with his whistle, his
men to hold out to the last ; and both the Scot-
tish ships, being taken, were carried in triumph
to London. James could never forgive the loss
of this brave officer. He sent to demand satis-
faction; but was answered that Barton and his
crew were lawless pirates, and that what had
been done against them ought never to be re-
sented amongst sovereign princes. James as-
serted that Barton was no pirate, because he
bore his commission ; and that he ought to have
been convicted of piratical acts before he was
treated as guilty. Henry intimated to James
that he was willing to accommodate the affair by
way of negociation ; but James rejected the pro-
posal with disdain. Various negociations took
place concerning this and other affairs till 1513;
when James, fully resolved upon a war with
England, thought it highly necessary that it
should have the sanction of his parliament,
which he accordingly assembled. The young
nobility were not only inspired with the senti-
ments of James, but had been won over by the
French ; and the majority of them, as well as of
the clergy, were ripe for a war with England.
The older statesmen, on the other hand, who
saw the flourishing state of Scotland, arising
from a long peace, dreaded the ruinous conse-
quences of a war. The queen naturally headed
this party ; and she was joined by the earl of
Angus and the sober part of the nobility. But
their arguments made no impression on James,
who had received a present from Louis XI. of
four ships laden with wine and flour, and two
402
SCOTLAND.
ships of war completely equipped. He promised
to the French queen, upon his honor, that he
would take the field against the English; and
she had sent him a fresh letter, gently reproach-
ing him for want of gallantry. In short, the
reasonings of the wisest and best part of the no-
bility were over-ruled, and an expedition against
England was resolved on. The earl of Hume,
who was chamberlain of Scotland, was, at this
juncture, at the head of 7000 or 8000 men, with
whom he committed great devastation on the
English borders. Henry's queen, Catharine of
Spain, whom he had left regent of his dominions,
issued a commission of array, directed to Sir
Thomas Lovel, K. G., for assembling the militia
of the counties of Nottingham, Derby, Warwick,
Leicester, Stafford, Rutland, Northampton, and
Lincoln. The management of this war, however,
was chiefly committed to the earl of Surrey, who
assembled the militia of Chester, Lancaster, Nor-
thumberland, Westmoreland, Cumberland, and
the bishopric of Durham. Hume had by this
time laid great part of Northumberland waste;
and his men were returning home laden with
booty. The earl of Surrey, resolving to intercept
them, ordered Sir William Bulmer to form an
ambush with 1000 archers, at a place called
Broomhouse. Bulmer executed his orders with
great success. The archers assaulted the Scots
all at once, and made such good use of their ar-
rows that their main body was put to flight, 500
killed, and 400 taken, with lord Hume's stan-
dard ; the greatest part of the plunder being re-
covered at the same time. The Scots styled this
expedition the 111 raid. James was more exaspe-
rated than ever by this defeat, and continued his
preparations for inyading England with addi-
tional vigor. His queen did all that became a
prudent wife to divert him from his purpose.
She endeavoured to work upon his superstition,
by recounting to him her ominous dreams. James
treating these as mere fictions of the brain, she
had receurse to other arts. While he was waiting
at Linlithgow for the arrival of his army from
the north and the Highlands, he assisted one
afternoon at the vespers in the church of St.
Michael. Being placed in one of the canons'
seats, a venerable man entered, dressed in a long
garment of an azure color, and girded round
with a towel or roll of linen, his forehead bald,
and his yellow locks hanging down his shoulders ;
in short, he was dressed and formed like St.
Andrew, the apostle of Scotland. The church
being crowded, this personage made his way to
the king's seat ; and, leaning over it, said, ' Sire,
I am sent hither to intreat you for this time to
delay your expedition, and to proceed no farther
in your intended journey ; for, if you do, you
shall not prosper in your enterprise. I am
further charged to warn you, if you be so refractory
a< to go forward, not to use the acquaintance,
company, or counsel of women, as ye tender your
honor, life, and estate.' After delivering these
words he retired through the crowd, and was
seen no more, though diligent enquiry was
made after him. That this scene was enacted,
seems to be past dispute; for Sir David Lindsay,
who was then a young man, and present in the
church, reported it both to Buchanan and Lind-
say the historians. It is the opinion of historians
that the whole was a contrivance of the queen,
to wnose other afflictions the stings of jealousy
were now added. In one of the Scottish inroads
into England, one Heron, the proprietor of the
castle of Ford, had been taken piisoner and sent
to Scotland ; where he was detained on a charge
of murder, of which he seems to have been inno-
cent. The English historians mention this as
having passed after James entered England ;
but, from the latter part of the supposed phan-
tom's speech, it is probable that it happened be-
fore ; and that Heron's wife and beautiful daugh-
ter had been for some time soliciting James for
his deliverance. Be that as it may, James was
smitten with the charms of the daughter; and
her mother, who was a most artful woman, knew
how to avail herself of the conquest. Pretending
that she had interest enough to procure the re-
lease of lord Johnston and Alexander Home,
who were prisoners in England, she was per-
mitted by James to keep a constant corres-
pondence with the earl of Surrey, to whom she
is said to have betrayed all James's secrets and
measures.
The rendezvous of James's army was at the
Barrow-muir, to which James repaired ; and,
having given orders for the march of his artil-
lery, he lodged at the abbey of Holyrood House.
While he was there, another attempt was made
to divert him from his purpose of invading
England : but James, deaf to all solicitations,
mustered his army ; and on the 22d August
passed the Tweed, encamping that night near
the banks of the Twissel. On his arrival at
Twisselhaugh, on the 14th, he called an as-
sembly of his lords, and declared that the heirs
of all such as should die in the armyf or be
killed by the enemy during his stay in England,
should have their wards, relief, and marriages,
of the king ; who, upon that account, dispensed
with their age. This was the crisis of that
prince's fate. Abandoned to his passion for his
English mistress, she prevailed with him, at her
mother's instigation, to trifle away his time for
some days ; during which interval the junction
of the English army was formed. The earl of
Surrey, the English general, was then at Pom-
fret ; but ordered the landholders of the neigh-
bouring counties to certify to him in writing
what number of men each could furnish, charg-
ing them to be ready at an hour's warning ; and
laid his plan so as not to bring his army into
the field till James had advanced so far into
England as to render it difficult for him to
retire without a battle. This precaution assisted
the lady Ford in persuading James that there
was no danger in the delay. In the mean time
the earl of Surrey ordered the governors of Ber-
wick and Norham, the two strongest places on
the frontiers of England, to prepare for a vigorous
resistance ; and directed them to certify how
long they could hold out ; in hopes that, if they
made a resolute defence, James would march
on, and leave them in his rear. The governor
of Norham's answer was, that his castle was so
well provided as to leave him no doubt, in case
of a siege, to be able to defend it till king Henry
should return from abroad and relieve it in per
SCOTLAND.
463
son. James, liowever, besieged it on the 25th
of August, and battered it so furiously that lie
took it by capitulation on the sixth day. James
then proceeded to the castle of Etal, belonging
to the family of Manners, which he took and
demolished likewise, as he also did \Vark, and
arrived before the castle of Ford. The Scottish
army is generally allowed to have consisted of at
least 50,000 men when it passed the Tweed. At
this time it was encamped on the heights of
Cheviot, in the heart of a country naturally bar-
ren, and now desolate through the precautions
taken by the English general. Being obliged to
extend their quarters, for the benefit of subsistence,
the mercenary part of them had acquired a con-
siderable plunder, with which, as usual, they re-
tired to their own country, as many more d d
for want of subsistence. The earl of Surrey knew
their situation, and ordered the rendezvous of
his army, first at Newcastle, and then near Nor-
ham, having certain intelligence of the vast de-
sertions daily happening in the Scottish army.
The wetness of the season rendered his march,
especially that of the artillery, extremely difficult;
but, being joined by several persons of distinc-
tion, he arrived on the 3d of September at Aln-
wick, where he was reinforced by 5000 hardy
veteran troops, sent from the English army on
the continent ; so that his army now consisted
of 26,000 men, all completely provided for the
field. James having, in the manifesto which he
dispersed on his entering England, given the
death of Barton as one of the causes of his in-
vasion, the lord-admiral had prevailed with
Henry to send him upon this service ; and he
informed James by a letter that he intended to
justify the death of that pirate in the front of
the English army. By this time the army of
James was, by desertion and other causes, re-
duced to less than half its numbers; but the
chief misfortune attending it was his own con-
duct. His indolence, inactivity, and scandalous
amours, at such a season, had disgusted several
of his greatest and best fripnds ; some of whom
suspected a correspondence between the English
lady and the earl of Surrey. James was deaf to
all their remonstrances ; until the earl of Angus
declared that he was resolved to return home, as
he foresaw the ruin of the army was inevitable.
He accordingly withdrew to Scotland, but left
behind him his two sons. Lord Hume and the
earl of Huntley were likewise discontented. The
former had brought his men into the field ; but,
according to some historians, with a design
rather to betray than to serve James ; but Hunt-
ley, though he disliked his conduct, remained
firmly attached to his person. The defection or
backwardness of those great men seemed to make
no impression upon James. He had chosen a
strong camp in the neighbourhood of Ford, on
the side of a mountain called Flodden Hill ; and
separated from the English army by the river
Till. This advantageous situation put the earl
of Surry under great difficulties ; for it rendered
the Scottish army inaccessible, as it was fortified
by artillery, and was well supplied with provi-
sions. The earl drew up a manifesto, with which
he charged Rouge Croix herald, who was at-
tended by a trumpet. It contained some pro-
posals for an exchange of prisoners, which seem.s
to have been calculated to give the lady Ford
the more credit with James ; but concluded with
reproaches for his perfidious invasion of England,
and a defiance to a general battle. The herald
was farther charged with a verbal commission to
James, that the earl of Surry had issued orders
that no quarter should be given to any of the
Scottish army but the king. A council of war
was called on this occasion ; in which the earl
of Huntly and others made strong remonstrances
against a general engagement. Ti ey showed
how fatal it must be to Scotland, should it prove
unsuccessful; and that the wisest course James
could follow was to return home, where, if he
was pursued by the enemy, he could fight to
great advantage. Huntly, however, added that
he was equally ready to share in his majesty's
danger as his glory. Other noblemen, and the
French ambassador, represented a retreat as dis-
graceful to the nobility of Scotland and the arms
of James, and used many romantic arguments,
which but loo well suited with the king's dispo-
sition. According to Drummond, the council
were of opinion that the king should imme-
diately besiege Berwick; but the majority were
of opinion that it was beneath the dignity of
James to fight the earl of Surry at that noble-
man's requisition. Patrick lord Lindsay of
Byres, who was president of the council, ex-
pressed himself so strongly on that head, that
James, in a passion, is said by the historian
Lindsay to have sworn that if he lived to return
to Scotland he would hang that nobleman at
his own gate. He ordered Rouge Croix to be
called in ; and, after treating him \\iti trr i>
politeness, sent a message to the earl or Surr
by one of his own heralds (Islay), importing that
he would give the English battle on the Friday
following; and that had he received such a mes-
sage from the earl even in his own castle of
Edinburgh, he would have left that, and all other
business, to have fought him. With this mes-
sage, a manifesto, in vindication of James's con-
duct, was sent by the same herald. The earl of
Surry, who was then so infirm that he was car-
ried about in a sedan or chariot, had foreseen
that James would return an answer by one of his
own heralds; but, unwilling that he should ob-
tain any knowledge of the situation of the Eng-
lish camp, he ordered proper persons to receive
' m at two miles' distance, where soon after he
attended in person. Islay executed his commis-
sion, and the English general dismissed him,
after bestowing great compliments upon the ho-
nor and courage of James. The earl then or-
dered his army to inarch in the line of batt'e
towards Wollerhaugh. There he was joined by
Rouge Croix, who gave him an account of the
strong situation of the Scottish camp ; but the
advanced posts of the English army were then
within three miles of the enemy, and the earl of
Surry foi nd his difficulties daily increasing.
The roads were broken up, the swelling of the
rivers cut him off from the necessary communi-
cations for supplying his army, and nothing but
a battle could save him either from being dis-
banded or destroyed. James seems to have so
far regarded the advice of his wisest counsellois,
404
SCOTLAND.
as not to abandon his strong situation. They
endeavoured to persuade him that it was suf-
ficient for his honor, if he did not decline the
battle on the day appointed ; and that his en-
gagement did not bind him to fight upon disad-
vantageous ground. The Scots, at the same time,
knew of their enemy's distresses ; and warmly
represented to their king that he wanted nothing
but patience to be victorious. The earl of Surry,
however, again sent Rouge Croix to inform
James that he was ready to give him battle,
and James was nettled at this tacit imputation
upon his courage. It is certain that he neglected
the necessary precautions for guarding the pas-
sages of the Till, which the English crossed,
partly at a place where it was fordable, and
partly at a bridge. While the English were
passing the bridge, Borthwick, master of the
Scottish artillery, fell upon his knees, and begged
permission from James to point his cannon
against them ; but James answered in a passion
that it must be at the peril of his (Borthwick's)
head, and that he was resolved to see all his
enemies that day on the plain before him in a
body. The earl of Surry, after passing the Till,
took possession of Braxton, which lay to the
right of the Scottish camp ; and by that ma-
noeuvre cut off the communication of his enemies
with the Tweed, and commanded the river below
Eton castle. The Scottish generals saw them-
selves now in danger of being reduced to the
same straits in which their enemies had been
involved two days before. James had intelli-
gence that this was far from being the intention
of the English general ; and imagining that the
latter's intention was to take possession of a
strong camp upon a hill between him and the
Tweed, which would give the English a farther
command of the country, he resolved to be be-
fore-hand with the earl, and gave orders for
making large fires of green wood, that the smoke
might cover his march along the height, to take
advantage of that eminence. But, while this
stratagem concealed his march, the movements
of the enemy were also concealed from him :
for, when he came to the brow of the height, he
found them drawn up in order of battle on the
plain, so close to where he was that his artillery
must overshoot them. A battle was now not
only unavoidable, but the only means of saving
the Scottish army. James's person was so dear
to his troops that many of them dressed them-
selves as nearly as they could in the same coats
of armour and with the same distinctions that
James wore that day. His generals had earnestly
desired him to retire to a place of safety, where
he would be secure in all events ; but he obsti-
nately refused to follow their advice ; and on the
9th of September, 1513, early in the morning,
dispositions were ordered for the line of battle.
The command of the van was allotted to the earl
of liuntly ; the earls of Lennox and Argyle
commanded the Highlanders under James : and
the earls of Crawford and Montrose led the
body of reserve. The earl of Surry gave the
command of his van to his son, the lord admiral ;
his right wing was commanded by his other son,
Sir Edward Howard ; and his left by Sir Mar-
tnaduke Constable. The rear was commanded
by the earl himself, lord Dacres, and Sir Edward
Stanley. Under those leaders served the flower
of all the nobility and gentry then in England.
Lord Hume served under the earls of Crawford
and Montrose, and Hepburn earl of Bothwell
was in the rear. The first movement of the Eng-
lish army was made by the lord admiral, who
suddenly wheeled to the right, and seized a pass
at Milford, where he planted his artillery so as
to command the most sloping part of the ascent
where the Scots were drawn up ; and it put
them into such disorder that the earl of Huntly
found it necessary to attack the lord admiral : he
drove him from his post; and the consequence
must have been fatal to the English, had not his
precipitate retreat been covered by some squa-
drons of horse under the lord Dacres, which
gave the admiral an opportunity of rallying.
The earl of Surry now advanced to the front, so
that the English army formed one continued
line, which galled the Scots with perpetual dis-
charges of their artillery and bows. The High-
landers, as usual, impatient to come to a close
fight, rushed down the declivity with their broad
swords, without order or discipline, and before
the rest of the army, particularly the division
under lord Hume, advanced to support them.
Their impetuosity, however, made a considera-
ble impression upon the main battle; and, the
king bringing up the earl of Both well's reserve,
the conflict became general. By this time the
lord admiral, having again formed his men, came
to the assistance of his father, and charged the
division under the earls of Crawford and Mon-
trose, who were marching to support the High-
landers, among whom the king and his attendants
were fighting on foot : while Stanley, making a
circuit round the hill, attacked the Highlanders
in the rear. Crawford and Montrose, not being
seconded by the Humes, were routed ; and thus
all that part of the Scottish army which was en-
gaged under the king was completely surrounded,
by the division of the English under Surry,
Stanley, and the admiral. In this situation James
acted with a coolness not common to his temper.
He drew up his men in a circular form, and their
valor more than once opened the ranks of the
English, or obliged them to stand aloof, and
again have recourse to their bows and artillery.
The chief of the Scottish nobility made fresh
attempts to prevail with James to make his
escape while it was practicable ; but he obsti-
nately continued the fight. He saw the earls of
Montrose, Crawford, Argyle, and Lennox, fall
by his side, with the bravest of his men ; and,
darkness now coming on, he himself was killed
by an unknown hand; while the English, igno-
rant of the victory they had gained, had actually
retreated from the field of battle, with a dr-Lu
of renewing it next morning. This disaster \\;is
evidently owing to the romantic disposition of
the king, and to the want of discipline among
his soldiers ; though some writers have ascribed
it to the treachery of lord Hume. Many of
James's domestics knew and mourned over his
body ; and it appeared that he had received t\vo
mortal wounds, one through the trunk with an
arrow, and the other on the head with a ball.
11 is coat of armour was presented to queen Ci-
SCO T L A X D.
465
therine, who informed her husband, then in
France, of the victory over the Scots. The loss
on both sides, in this engagement, is far from
being ascertained ; though Polydore Virgil, who
Jived at the time, mentions the loss of the Eng-
lish at 5000, and that of the Scots at 10,000.
After the death of James IV. the administra-
tion devolved on the queen dowager; but she
being pregnant, and unable to bear the weight of
government, accepted of Beaton archbishop of
Glasgow and chancellor of Scotland, with the
earls of Huntly, Angus, and Arran, to assist her
in the public affairs. Soon after her husband's
death she had written an affecting letter to her
brother the king of England, setting forth the
deplorable state of the kingdom, with her own
condition, and imploring his friendship and
protection for herself and her child. The letter
seems never to have been communicated by
Henry to his council ; but he answered it, and
informed his sister that if the Scots would have
peace they should have peace, and war if they
chose it. ' He added,' says Drummond, ' that
her husband had fallen by his own indiscreet
rashness, and foolish kindness to France; that he
regretted his death as his ally, and should be
willing to prohibit all hostility against Scotland
during the minority of her son.' For a remedy
of present evils, one year and a day's truce was
agreed to. But, though Henry might grant this
truce to his sister's intreaty, it certainly did not
become a national measure; for it appears by a
letter dated two years after, from the Scottish
council to the king of France, published by
Rymer, that the Scots never had desired a truce.
So far from that, the French influence, joined to
a desire of rerenge, remained so strong in the
kingdom that, after the meeting of the parlia-
ment, some members proposed a renewal of the
war. The motion was indeed over-ruled, but
they could not be brought to make any advances
towards Henry for a peace ; and every day was
now big with public calamity. The archbishopric
of St. Andrew's being vacant, three competitors
appeared : viz. 1. Gawin Douglas, abbot of Aber-
brothick; 2. John Hepburn, prior of St. An-
drew's, a bold, avaricious, restless, but shrewd
and sensible priest ; and, 3. Forman, bishop of
Moray in Scotland, and archbishop of Bourges
in France, who had in his interest not only the
duke of Albany (son to the traitor duke) first
prince of the blood, but also the court of Rome;
and, having received the pope's bull and nomi-
nation to the dignity, he was considered as the
legal archbishop. This preference discouraged
Douglas from pursuing his pretensions ; but
Hepburn being supported by the clan of his own
name, and by the Humes, made so formidable
a head against his rivals that none could be
found daring enough to publish the papal bull.
The earl of Hume, however, put himself at the
head of his followers, and, notwithstanding all
the opposition given by the Hepburns, pro-
claimed the bull at the cross of Edinburgh; an
undertaking which proved that the earl of Hume
had more power than the queen ; but Hepburn's
resolution, and the greatness of his friends,
obliged Forman to agree to a compromise. Hep-
burn was advanced to the see of Moray, without
VOL. XIX.
accounting for the revenues of the archbishopric
which he had received during its vacancy ; and
he gave Forman a present of 3000 crowns, to b'>
divided among his friends and followers.
In April 1514 the posthumous son, of whom
the queen had been delivered in Stirling castle,
was by the bishop of Caithness baptized Alex-
ander. On the 6th of August she was married
to the earl of Angus ; than which nothing could
be more impolitic. She had neither consulted
,her brother nor the States of Scotland in the
match ; and by this marriage she in fact resigned
all claim to the regency. But the Douglasses
affirmed that the states might lawfully reinstate
her in it ; and that the peace of the kingdom
required it. The earl of Hume put himself at
the head of the opposition to this proposal. He
dreaded that the farther aggrandisement of An-
gus must weaken his interest on the borders :
and he was joined by a number of the young
nobility, who, though otherwise divided, united
against Angus. In short, the general opinion
was, that the Douglasses were already too great ;
and that, should the queen be reinstated in the
regency, they must be absolute. It was added
by the earl of Hume, that, now the queen had
-.nade a voluntary abdication of it by her mar-
riage, it ought not to be renewed. At last the
duke of Albany was chosen regent. He was
possessed of all the qualities requisite; nor did
he disappoint the expectations of the public.
On his arrival at Glasgow, he took upon him the
titles of earl of March, Marr, Garioch, lord of
Annandale, and of the Isle of Man, regent and
protector of the kingdom of Scotland. At
Edinburgh he was received in form by the three
estates, and the queen met him at some distance
from the town. The parliament then resumed
"ts session, and the three estates took an oath of
obedience, till the king, then an infant of four
years old, should arrive at maturity. The first
thing at which the regent aimed was the conci-
liating the differences amongst the variors con-
tending families in the kingdom ; at the same
time that he suppressed various daring robbers,
one of whom is said to have had no fewer then
800 attendants in his career. He took into favor
Hepburn the prior of St. Andrew's, whom he
consulted for information concerning the state of
Scotland, and who acquainted him with all the
feuds and animosities which raged among the
great families. He represented the civil power
as too weak to curb these potent chieftains : and
gave it as his opinion that the regent's adminis-
tration ought to be supported by foreign arm?,
meaning those of France. Hepburn also gained
an ascendancy over the regent, by money laid
out among his domestics, by a fawning and plau-
sible address, and well-directed flatteries ; and
took care to employ this ascendancy to destroy
those who were obnoxious to himself. The earl
of Hume thus became obnoxious to the regent,
through the insinuations of Hepburn ; and soon
perceived that neither he nor his friends were
welcome guests at court. Alarmed for his safety,
he resolved to form a party with the queen-
mother and her new husband against the regent :
a scheme in which both readily concurred. In
the mean time the regent was making a progress
2 H
466
SCOTLAND.
through Scotland, and bloodj feuds were raging
among the nobles : but, before any remedy could
be applied to these disorders, he was informed of
the schemes of the queen-mother and her party ;
and that she had resolved to fly into England
with her infants. On this he returned to Edin-
burgh ; set out at midnight, and surprised the
castle of Stirling, where he found the queen-
mother and her children. The regent, after this
bold step, took care to show that the care of the
royal infants was his chief study. As he himself
uas nearly allied to the crown, to remove all
suspicions, he committed the care of the king
and his brother to three noblemen of the most
unexceptionable character, of whom one was the
earl of Lennox. They were appointed to attend
the princes by turns ; to whom also a guard of
French and Scots was assigned ; and the queen-
mother was left at liberty to reside where she
pleased. On this the earl of Hume retired to
his own estate ; whence he was soon after drawn,
and obliged to fly into England, by the earls of
Arran and Lennox. The queen-mother retired
to a monastery at Coldstream ; and messengers
were despatched to the court of England to
know how Henry would have his sister disposed
of. He ordered the lord Dacres, his warden of
the march.es, to attend her to Harbottle castle
Northumberland ; where she was delivered of
her daughter the lady Mary Douglas, mother of
Henry lord Darnley, father of James VI. The
regent sent ambassadors to Henry, to vindicate
his own conduct. He likewise invited the queen
to return to Scotland ; where she should at all
times be admitted to see her children. This
offer, however, she declined ; and set out for
London, where she was affectionately received
by her brother. But in the mean time many
disorders were committed throughout the king-
dom by her party ; though, by the interposition
of archbishop Forman, they were terminated
without bloodshed ; and the earl of Angus and
others returned to their duty. Lord Hume how-
ever refused to surrender, or to accept of the
regent's terms ; and was of consequence declared
a traitor, and his estate confiscated. All this
time he had been infesting the borders at the
head of a lawless banditti ; and now he began
to commit such devastations that the regent
marched against him at the head of 1000 troops.
Hume, being obliged to lay down his arms, was
sent prisoner to Edinburgh castle ; where the
regent very unaccountably committed him to
the charge of his brother-in-law the earl of Ar-
ran. Hume easily gained over this near relation
to his party ; and both of them in October 1515
escaped to the borders, where they soon renewed
hostilities. Both the earls were now proclaimed
traitors, but Hume was allowed fifteen days to
surrender himself. This short interval the regent
employed in quashing the rebellion, for which
purpose the parliament had allowed him 15,000
men. He besieged the castle of Hamilton, the
earl of Arran's chief seat, which was in no con-
dition of defence : but he was prevailed upon
by Arran's mother, daughter to James II., and
his own aunt, to forbear further hostilities, and
to pardon her son. Arran accordingly submit-
ted ; but the public tranquillity was not restored.
An association at the head of which was the earl
of Moray, the king's natural brother, had been
formed against the earl of Iluntly. That no-
bleman was too well attended to fear any danger
by day ; but his enemies introduced some armed
troops in the night into Edinburgh. On this a
fierce skirmish ensued, in which some were
killed on both sides ; but farther bloodshed was
prevented by the regent, who confined all the
lords in prison till he had brought about a gene-
ral reconciliation. One Hay, who had been very
active in stirring up the quarrels, was banished
to France; and only the earl of Hume now con-
tinued in arms. In 1516 died Alexander duke
of Rothesay ; an event which brought the regent
one degree nearer the crown. Negociations were
then entered into about prolonging the truce
with England ; but, Henry insisting upon a re-
moval of the regent from his place, they were
dropped. Finding, however, that he could nei-
ther prevail on the parliament as a body to dis-
miss the regent, nor form any party of any con-
sequence against him, he at last consented to a
prolongation of the truce for a year. In 1517,
the affairs of the regent requiring his presence
in France, he resolved before his departure to
remove the earl of Hume, who alone continued
to disturb the public tranquillity. Under pre-
tence of settling some differences which still re-
mained with England, he called a convention of
the nobility , and sent special letters to the earl
of Hume and his brother to attend, on account
of their great knowledge in English affairs.
Both of them obeyed the summons, and were
seized and executed as soon as they arrived at
Edinburgh. By this severity the regent lost the
affections of the people to such a degree that
he could scarcely get their places supplied.
That of lord-warden of the marches he at last
gave to his French favorite Sir Anthony D'Arcy ;
and that of lord chamberlain to lord Fleming.
Soon after this the regent levied an army, on
pretence of repressing some disturbances on the
borders. These being speedily quelled, he seized
on his return upon the earl of Lennox, and
forced him to deliver up his castle of Dumbar-
ton ; not choosing to leave it, during his absence,
in the custody of a nobleman of suspected fide-
lity ; and, from similar motives, he afterwards
took him along with him to the continent. He
then procured himself to be nominated ambas-
sador to France, in which character he left the
kingdom, having committed the government to
the archbishops of St. Andrew's and Glasgow,
the earls of Arran, Angus, Huntly, and Argyle,
with the warden D'Arcy, on whom was his chief
dependence. On the departure of the regent,
the queen-mother left the English court ; and
arrived with a noble retinue at Berwick, to visit
her son. Here she was received by her hus-
band ; for whom she had contracted an invin-
cible aversion, on account of Tiis infidelities to
her bed. However she suppressed her resent-
ment, and accompanied him to Edinburgh.
Here she demanded access to her son ; but was
refused by D'Arcy. Lord Erskine, however,
who was one of those to whom the care of the
young king was committed, conveyed him to the
castle of Craigmillar (where D'Arcy had no ju-
SCOTLAND.
4G7
risdiction), on pretence that the plague was in
Edinburgh; and there the queen was admitted;
but this gave such offence to D'Arcy that lord
Erskine was obliged to carry back the king to
the castle of Edinburgh, where all further access
was denied to his mother. In short, the beha-
viour of this favorite was on all occasions so
haughty and violent that he rendered himself
universally odious; and was at last murdered
with all his attendants in his way to Dunse,
where he proposed to hold a court of justice.
His death was very little regretted ; yet his mur-
derers were prosecuted with the utmost severity,
and several persons of distinction declared rebels
on that account. Meanwhile, the regent was
treated with high marks of distinction in France.
The king showed him the greatest respect, pro-
mised to assist in establishing his authority in
Scotland, and confirmed the ancient league be-
tween the two kingdoms. Soon after the earl
of Lennox arrived from France, with assurances
of assistance from the king, who was highly
pleased at the zeal of the governors in punishing
D'Arcy's murderers ; and 500 soldiers arrived
with him, to reinforce the garrisons, especially
that of Dunbar. All this time the queen-mothei
continued at Edinburgh, employing herself in
attempts to procure a divorce from her husband,
under pretence of his having been previously
contracted to another. The affairs of the king-
dom again began to fall into confusion, and many
murders and commotions happened continually.
The earl of Arran had the chief direction in the
state; but Angus had still great interest, and
took every opportunity to oppose him. This
produced an encounter at Edinburgh; in which
victory declared for Angus, and seventy-two of
the routed party were killed, on the 30th ot
April, 1519. On the 19th of November, 1521,
the regent returned from France. He found
the kingdom in great disorder. The earl ot
Angus domineered in the field, but his anta-
gonists outvoted his party in parliament.
The queen-mother, who had fixed her affec-
tions on a third husband, hated all parties al-
most equally; but joined the regent, in hopes of
his depriving the other two of power. This
happened accordingly, and she was with the re-
gent when he made a kind of triumphal entry
into Edinburgh, attended by many persons of the
first rank. The earl of Angus was now sum-
moned to appear as a criminal ; but his wife
interceded for him, because he gave her no op-
position in the process of divorce. In the mean
time Henry VIII., perceiving that the Scots were
entirely devoted to the French interest, sent a
letter full of accusations against the regent,
and threats against the nation, if they did
not renounce that alliance. No regard being
paid to these requisitions, lord Dacres was
ordered to proclaim upon the borders, that
the Scots must stand to their peril, if they
did not fall in with his measures by the 1st of
March, 1522. This producing no effect, Henry
seized the effects of all the Scots residing in
England, and banished them his dominions, after
marking them, according to bishop Lesley, with
a cross. A war was the consequence; and,
on the 30th April, the earl of Shrewsbury,
Henry's steward of the household, and K. G.,
was appointed commander-in-chief against the
Scots ; and lord Dacres made an inroad as far as
Kelso, plundering and burning wherever he
came. The regent ordered his army to rendez-
vous at Iloslin ; but the Scots, remembering the
disaster at Flodden, showed an extreme aversion
to the war, and told the regent that, though they
would defend themselves if they were attacked,
they would not engage in a French quarrel. The
regent remonstrated, but without effect; and, as
the malecontents continued obstinate, he was in
danger of being left by himself, when the queen
mother interposed, and prevailed upon lord Da-
cres to agree to a conference, the event of which
was a renewal of the negociations for peace. The
regent, perceiving that he had lost his former popu-
larity, determined to revenge himself ; and told
those whom he could trust, that he was about to
return to France, whence he should bring such a
force by sea and land as should render it unne-
cessary for him to ask leave of the Scots any
more to invade England. Accordingly he em-
barked for France on the 25th of October, pub-
licly giving out that he should return the ensuing
August. On the regent's arrival in that country,
he made a demand of 10,000 foot and 5000
horse for carrying on the war against England ; but
the situation of Francis I. did not then allow him
to spare so many, though he was daily sending
over ships with men, ammunition, and money,
for the French garrisons in Scotland. At last it
was publicly known in England that the regent
was about to return with a strong fleet, and 4000
of the best troops of France ; upon which Henry
determined, if possible, to intercept him. Sir
William Fits-Williams, with thirty-six large
ships, was ordered to block up the French squa-
dron in the harbour of Finhead. Sir Anthonv
Poyntz cruised with another in the Western seas,
as Sir Christopher Dow and Sir Henry Shireburn
did in the northern with a third squadron. The
duke of Albany, being unable to cope with Fitz-
Williams, was obliged to set out from another
port with twelve ships, having some troops on
board. They fell in with Fitz-Williams's squa-
dron ; two of their ships were sunk, and the rest
driven back to Dieppe. Fitz-Williams then
made a descent at Treport, where he burnt
eighteen French ships, and returned to his sta-
tion off Finhead. As soon, therefore, as Fitz-
Williams appeared, the duke disembarked his
soldiers, as if he had intended to delay his expe-
dition for that year ; but a storm soon arising,
which obliged the English fleet to return to the
Downs, the regent reimbarked his men, and, sail-
ing by the western coasts, arrived safe in Scot-
land. All this time the earl of Surry had been
carrying on the most cruel and destructive war
in that country ; insomuch that, according to
cardinal Wolsey, ' there was left neither house,
fortress, village, tree, cattle, corn, nor other suc-
cour for man,' in Tweedale and March. The
regent's return did not immediately put a stop
to these devastations ; for the intestine divisions
in Scotland prevented him from taking the field ;
his party was weakened by his long absence, and
the queen mother had been very active in
strengthening the English interest. A parlia-
2 II 2
468
SCOTLAND.
ment was called in 1523, where it was debated,
whether peace or war with England should
take place ; and the latter was determined on.
Henry was at this time so well disposed to culti-
vate a friendship with Scotland that he offered
to James his eldest sister Mary in marriage ; but
the Scots, animated by the appearance of their
French auxiliaries, and corrupted by their gold,
rejected all terms, and resolved upon war. How-
ever, when the army was assembled, and had
advanced to the borders, the regent found the
same difficulty he had formerly experienced ; for
they flatly refused to enter England. With great
difficulty he prevailed upon part of them to pass
the Tweed ; but, not meeting with success, he
was obliged to return to Scotland, which at this
time was divided into four factions. One of
these was headed by the regent, another by the
queen, a third by the earl of Arran, and a fourth by
Angus, who had lived as an exile under Henry's
protection. At last the duke of Albany, finding all
parties united against him, resigned his office of
regent ; and on the 14th of March in that year
went on board one of his own ships for France,
whence he never returned to Scotland. He did
not make a formal abdication of his government;
indeed he requested the nobility, whom he con-
vened for that purpose, to enter into no alliance
with England during his absence, which he said
would continue no longer than the 1st of Sep-
tember following ; to make no alteration in the
government ; and to keep the king at Stirling.
The nobility, impatient for the absence of the
regent, readily promised whatever he required
but without any intention of performing it ; nor,
indeed, was it in their power ; for it had been
previously determined that James himself should
now take the administration into his own hands.
According to Buchanan, the regent had no sooner
returned to France than Scotland relapsed into
all the miseries of anarchy. The queen dowager
had the management of public affairs, but her
power was limited. The earl of Arran, appre-
hending danger from the English, entered into
the views of the French party. The queen -mo
ther's dislike to her husband prevented a union
^mong those who were in the English interest ;
and Wolsey restored the earl of Angus to all his
importance in Scotland. The queen, therefore,
had no other way left to keep herself in power
but to bring her son into action. On the 29th
of July, therefore, James V. removed from Stir-
ling toHolyrood House, where he took upon him-
self the exercise of government, convoking the
nobility, and obliging them to swear allegiance
a second time. The truce with England was
now prolonged, and the queen's party carried
all before them. On the very day in which the
last truce was signed with England, the earl of
Angus entered Scotland. He had been invited
from his exile in France into England where he
was caressed by Henry, who disregarded all his
sister's intreaties to send him back to France,
and now resolved to support him in Scotland.
Yet, though his declared intention in sending the
farl to Scotland, was, that the latter might ba-
lance the French party there, the king enjoined
him to sue for a reconciliation with his wife, and
to co-operate with the earl of Arran, who now
acted as prime minister. On his return, how-
ever, he found himself excluded from all share in
the government, but soon found means to form
a strong party in opposition to Arran. In the
mean time ambassadors were sent to the court of
England, to treat of a perpetual peace. At the
same time a match was proposed between the
young king of Scotland and Henry's daughter.
This had originally been a scheme of Henry him-
self. The ambassadors arrived in London on the
19th December, and found Henry very much dis-
posed both to the peace and to the match. Com-
missioners were appointed to treat of both ; but
they were instructed to demand, by way of pre-
liminary, that the Scots should renounce their
league with France, and that James should be
sent for education to England. The Scottish
commissioners declared that they had no instruc-
tions on these points ; but the earl of Cassils
offered to return to Scotland, and bring a defini-
tive answer from 'the three states ; in the mean
time the truce was prolonged to the 15th ot
May, 1525. On his arrival at Edinburgh he
found the earl of Angus the leading man in par-
liament; by whose influence it was determined
that the Scots should renounce their league with
France, and substitute in place of it a similar
league with England ; and that the king should
be brought up at the English court, till he wn*
of an age proper for marriage ; but at the same
time they required of Henry to break off all en-
gagements with Charles V., who was the bitter
enemy of Francis, and at that time detained him
prisoner. To this Henry returned a cold answer,
being then engaged in treaties with the emperor,
among which one was concerning the marriage
of the princess Mary. However, before Cassils
returned, a truce of two years and a half was
concluded. But now the queen mother, though
she had always been a warm advocate for an alli-
ance between the two nations, yet disliked the
means of bringing it about. She saw her hus-
band's party increasing every day in power ; so
that she had no other resource than keeping pos-
session of the king's person, whom she removed
to the castle of Edinburgh. Being under the ne-
cessity of convening a parliament, it was resolved
to hold it within the castle ; which, being an un-
constitutional measure, the earl of Arran and
his party complained. They be^an with remon-
strances, but, finding them ineffectual, they
formed a blockade of the castle with 2000 men,
and cut off all communication with the town by
means of trenches. As no provisions could thus be
got into the castle, the queen ordered some of the
cannon to be turned against the town, to force
the citizens to put an end to the blockade. Se-
veral shots were fired ; but. when all things ap-
peared ready for a civil war, matters were com-
promised. It was agreed that the king should
remove out to the palace of Holyrood House •
whence he should repair with all possible mag-
nificence to his parliament, in the house where it
was commonly held ; and there a finishing hand
was to be put to all differences. This agreement
was signed on the 25th of February, 1526. The
parliament accordingly met, and the king's mar-
riage with the princess of England was confirmed ;
but no mention was made of his being sent for
SCOTLAND.
469
his education into that country ; on the contrary,
he was committed to the care of eight lords of
parliament. These were to have the custody of
the king's person, every one his month succes-
sively, and the whole to stand for the govern-
ment of the state ; yet with this limitation, ' that
the king, by their counsel, should not ordain or
determine any thing in great affairs to which the
queen, as princess and dowager, did not give her
consent.' This partition of power, by giving the
queen a negative in all public matters, soon
threw every thing into confusion; The earl of
Angus, by leading the king into various scenes
of dissipation, gained such an ascendancy over
him that he became totally guided by him ;
while the queen mother, finding that she could
not have access to her son without her husband,
whom she hated, retired with her domestics to
Stirling. Thus the young monarch was left un-
der the sole tuition of the earl of Angus, who
made a very bad use of his power, engrossing
all the places of honor and profit. The arch-
bishop of St. Andrew's, having now joined the
queen's party, advised her to make a formal de-
mand upon her husband, that the order of go-
vernment which had been settled last parliament
should take place, and that under a penalty he
should set the king at liberty. To this the earl
answered that ' having been sohighly favored by
his good uncle the king of England, and that
James himself being under great obligations to
him, neither the queen nor the other lords need
be in any pain about him, as he chose to spend
his time with the earl of Angus rather than with
any lord in the kingdom.' James, however,
perceived that he was in fact no better than the
earl's prisoner, and resolved to recover his liberty.
The earls of Argyle and Arran had retired from
court, and were living on their own estates; but
the earl of Lennox dissembled his sentiments so
well, that he was neither suspected by the earl of
Angus nor any of the Douglas family. The
king, being gained upon by his insinuating beha-
viour, opened his mind to him, and requested
his assistance against his keepers. At the same
time he sent letters to his mother and her party,
by some domestics, whom Lennox had pointed
out, intreating them to remove him from the earl,
adding that if this could not be done by any
other means they should use force. On receiving
Uiis letter the queen and her party assembled
.heir forces at Stirling, and began their march
for Edinburgh. Angus, on the oilier hand, pre-
pared to give them a warm reception, but to
carry along with him the king. This resolution
being made known to the queen-mother, she. was
so much concerned for the safety of her son
that the whole army was disbanded ; and thus
the authority of the earl of Angus seemed to be
more established than ever. Nothing, indeed,
•was now wanting to render him despotic but the
possession of the great seal, which the archbishop
of St. Andrew's had carried to Dunfermline. As
no deed of any consequence could be executed
without this, he prevailed upon the king to de-
mand it by special message ; in consequence of
which the archbishop was obliged to give it up.
About this time the divorce between the queen-
mother and the earl took place ; which increased
the dislike of James, while the imprudence of
Angus gave every day fresh disgust. As Angus
knew that he had no firm support but in the at-
tachment of his followers, he suffered them to
rob and plunder the estates of his opponents
without mercy. These, again, did not fail to
make reprisals ; so that, towards the end of 1526,
there was scarcely an appearance of civil govern-
ment in Scotland. Thus the court became al-
most totally deserted ; every nobleman being
obliged to go home to defend his own estate.
Even Angus himself shared in the common
calamity, and hence was frequently obliged to
leave the king to the custody of Lennox. To
this nobleman the king now made the most
grievous complaints, and charged him to con-
trive some plan for his escape. Lennox accord-
ingly recommended to him the baron of Buc-
cleugh, who was very powerful in the southern
parts, and a violent enemy to Angus and the
whole family of Douglas. To him he gave orders
to foment the disorders in the southern parts to
such a degree as to require the king's personal
presence to compose them. Buccleugh was then
to attack the party, and take the king by force
from the Douglasses. This scheme was put in
execution, but Buccleugh was defeated, and the
attempt proved abortive. After this the earl of
Angus behaved towards Lennox with such indif-
ference that Lennox openly declared against him,
and advised the king to form a friendship with
the archbishop of St. Andrews. This was accord-
ingly done ; but the interest of the archbishop
and Lennox was overbalanced by that of Arran
and the Hamilton family, whom the earl of Angus
now drew over to his party. However, the earl
of Lennox, having received powers from the
king, suddenly retired from court, and published
a manifesto, inviting all loyal subjects to assist
him in delivering the king from confinement.
In consequence of this he was soon joined by a
numerous army, with whom he advanced towards
Edinburgh. Angus assembled his adherents ;
and sent orders to the inhabitants of Edinburgh
to take the field with the king at their head.
The citizens immediately put themselves under
arms ; but, James pretending to be indisposed,
Sir George Douglas, brother to the earl of An-
gus, said, ' Sir, rather than our enemies should
take you from us, we will lay hold of your per-
son ; and, should you be torn in piece? in th«
struggJe, we will carry off part of your body.
Upon this speech, which James never forgot, he
mounted his horse, and set forward to Linlith-
gow at a slow pace ; insomuch that Sir George
Douglas, afraid of not coming in time to succor
his brother, made use of many insinuations to
push James on to the field of battle. Three ex-
presses arrived from the earl of Angus ; the first
informing his brother that he was about to en-
gage with a superior army ; the second that
Angus was engaged with a division of Lennox's
army, commanded by the earl of Glencairn ; and
that Lennox himself was engaged with the Ha-
miltons. The third informed him that Lennox,
if not defeated, was on the point of being so.
Upon receiving this last news James hastened to
the field of battle, that he might save Lennox,
and put an end to the bloodshed ; but he came
470
SCOTLAND.
too late ; for the royal party was already defeated
with great slaughter ; and Lennox himself, after
being wounded and taken prisoner, was mur-
dered by Sir James Hamilton. On the night of
the battle the king was removed to Linlithgow ;
and, though he was under the greatest grief for
the fate of Lennox, the behaviuur of the Doug-
glasses struck him with such terror that he dis-
sembled his sentiments. The earl of Angus led
his victorious troops into Fife, in hopes of sur-
prising the queen and the archbishop of St. An-
drews. The queen, on the news of his approach,
fled, with her new husband Henry Stuart, brother
to lord Evandale, to Edinburgh, and both were
admitted into the castle. The archbishop fled to
the mountains, where he was obliged to keep
cattle as a shepherd. Angus, after having plun-
dered the castle of St. Andrew's and the abbey
of Dunfermline, returned in triumph in Edin-
burgh, where he prepared to besiege the castle ;
but the queen, hearing that her sen was among
the number of the besiegers, ordered the gates of
the castle to be thrown open, and surrendered
herself and her husband prisoners to James, who
was advised to confine them to the castle. After
these successes, the earl of Angus established a
court of justice, in which he prosecuted those
who had opposed him, among whom was the
earl of Cassils. He was offered by Sir James
Hamilton, natural son to the earl of Arran, the
same who had murdered Lennox, an indemnity,
if he would own himself a vassal of that house ;
but this condition was rejected. Being called to
his trial, and accused of having taken arms
against the king, a gentleman of his name and
family, who was his advocate, denied the charge,
and offered to produce a letter under James's
own hand desiring him to assist in delivering
him from his gaolers. This striking evidence
confounded the prosecutor so much that the
earl was acquitted ; but, on his return home, he
was way-laid and murdered by one Hugh Camp-
bell, at the instigation of Sir James Hamilton.
During these transactions in the south, many of
the Highland clans were perpetrating the most
horrid scenes of rapine and murder. The state
of the borders was little better than that of the
Highlands ; but it engaged the attention of An-
gus more, as he had great interest in these parts.
Marching, therefore, against the banditti which
infested these parts, he soon reduced them to rea-
son. His power seemed now to be firmly estab-
lished, insomuch that the archbishop of St. An-
drews began to treat with Sir George Douglas, to
whom he offered lucrative leases and other emo-
luments, if he would intercede with Angus in his
favor. This was readily agreed to; and the
archbishop was allowed to return in safety to his
palace about the same time that Angus returned
from his expedition against the borderers. No-
thing was then to be seen at court but festivities
of every kind, in which the queen-mother, who
\\as now liberated, took part; and she was after-
wards suffered to depart to the castle of Stirling,
which Angus had neglected to secure. In the
mean time the archbishop invited the Douglasses
to spend some days with him at his castle;
which they accordingly did, and carried the king
with them. Here James dissembled so
well that Angus thought there could be no dan-
ger in leaving him in the hands of his friends,
till he should return to Lothian to settle some
public and private affairs. He left the king in
the custody of his uncle Archibald, his brother
Sir George, and one James Douglas of Park-
head, captain of the guards, who watched the
king on pretence of doing him honor. The earl
was no sooner gone than the archbishop sent an
invitation to Sir George Douglas, desiring him
to come to St. Andrews, and there put the last
hand to the leases. This was so plausible that
he immediately set out for St. Andrews ; while
his uncle the treasurer went to Dundee, where
he had an amour. James, thinking this the best
opportunity for an escape, resolved to attempt it,
and, by a private message, apprised his mother of
his design. It was then the season for hunting,
which James often followed in the park of Falk-
land ; and, calling for his forester, he told him
that, as the weather was fine, he intended to kill a
stag next morning, ordering him at the same time
to summon all the gentlemen in the neigbour-
hood to attend him with their best dogs. He then
called for his chief domestics, and commanded
them to get his supper early, because he intended
to be in the field by day-break ; and talked with
the captain of his guard of nothing but the ex-
cellent sport he expected. Meantime he had
engaged two young men, the one a page of his
own, the other, John Hart, a helper in his
stables, to attend him in his flight, and to provide
him with the dress of a groom for a disguise. Hav-
ing taken leave of his attendants, charging them
to be ready early in the morning, and, being left
alone, he stole softly out of his bed-chamber, went
to the stable, dressed himself in his disguise; and
he and his companions, mounting the three best
horses, galloped to Stirling castle ; into which he
was admitted soon after day-break. He com-
manded all the gates to be secured; and, the
queen having previously prepared every thing
for a vigorous defence, orders were given that
none should be admitted into the castle without
the king's permission. About an hour after the
king escaped from Falkland, Sir George Doug-
las returned ; and, being assured that the king
was asleep, went to bed. But James had been
seen and known in his flight ; for, in the morn-
ing, the bailiff of Abernethy informed Sir George
that the king had passed Stirling bridge. An
express was despatched, informing Angus of all
that had happened. The earl quickly repaired
to Falkland, where he and his friends resolved to
go to Stirling, and demand access to the king.
James by this time had issued letters to the
earls of Huntly, Argyle, Athol, Glencairn,
Monteith, Ilothes, and Eglinton ; lords Graham,
Livingston, Lindsay, Sinclair, Kuthven, Drum-
raond, Evandale, Maxwell, and Semple. Before
all of them could arrive at Stirling, the earl of
Angus and his friends were upon their journey
to the same place ; but were stopped by a herald,
commanding them not to approach within six
miles of the king's residence. On this the earl
deliberated with his party how to proceed. Some
were for marching, and taking the castle by sur-
prise ; but that was found to be impracticable.
The eatl and his brother therefore resolved to
SCOTLAND.
471
make a show of submission to ^ie king's order ;
and they accordingly went to Linlithgow. By
this time all the nobility already mentioned, and
many others, had assembled at Stirling; and
James, calling them to council, inveighed against
the tyranny of the Douglasses with acrimony,
and in conclusion, said, ' Therefore I desire, my
lords, that I may be satisfied of the said earl, his
kin, and friends. For I vow that Scotland shall
not hold us both, while I be revenged on him
and his.' The result was that proclamation
should be made, renewing the order for the
Douglasses not to approach the court, and di-
vesting the earl of Angus and his brother of all
their public employments. Such was the mode-
ration of the assembly that by their advice
James ordered the earl to retire to the north of
the Spey till his pleasure should be known ; but
his brother was commanded to surrender himself
a prisoner in the castle of Edinburgh, to take
his trial in a very full parliament, to be held in
that city next September. The earl and his bro-
ther considered all this as a prelude to their de-
struction ; and resolved to surprise the city of
Edinburgh, and hold it against the king and par-
liament, before the latter could assemble. The
royal party acted with great spirit. The man-
agement of the king's escape, his reception into
Stirling, the fortifying that castle, and the ready
obedience of his great nobility, some of whom
attended him with their followers before they re-
ceived any summonses, are proofs of wise and
spirited deliberations. It was to be expected
that the Douglasses, who remained assembled
in a numerous body, would make the attempt
they made ; but the royalists despatched lord
Maxwell and the baron of Lochinvar with troops
to take possession of the city, till James could
arrive with 2000 forces to their relief. Maxwell
and Lochinvar made such despatch that they were
in possession of the city when the Douglasses
appeared before it, and repulsed them ; while a
terrible storm had scattered the troops under
James, before he could come to their assistance,
so effectually, that, being left almost without at-
tendants, he might have been taken by the
smallest party of the enemy. Upon the retreat
of the Douglasses from Edinburgh, the parlia-
ment met ; and the earl of Angus, his brother,
Sir George Douglas, his uncle Archibald Doug-
las, and Alexander Drummond of Carnock, with
some of their chief dependents, were indicted
and forfeited in absence (none of them appear-
ing), for ' assembling of the king's lieges, with
intention to have assailed his person ; detaining
of the king against his will and pleasure, and
contrary to the articles agreed upon, for two
years and more ; all which time the king was in
fear and danger of his life.' One Banantyne
had the courage to plead their cause against these
heinous charges ; but so exasperated were both
the king and parliament against them that the
former swore he never would forgive them, and
the latter that they never would intercede fer
them. Nor was it deemed sufficient simply to
declare their resolution ; but the solemnity of
oaths was added, to discourage the king of
England from continuing the applications he was
daily making for the partlon of Angus; and, to
extinguish all hopes of that kind, James created
his mother's third husband lord Methven, and
gave him the direction of his artillery. The dis-
grace and forfeiture of the Douglasses having
created many vacancies in the state, Gavin Dun-
bar, archbishop of Glasgow, and tutor to the
king, was nominated lord chancellor, and Robert
Carncross, a person, says Buchanan, more emi-
nent for wealth than virtue, was made treasurer ;
but he was soon after displaced for favoring the
Douglasses, and Robert Barton appointed to
succeed him. The Douglasses still kept their
arms ; and, being joined by many outlaws and
robbers in the south, they ravaged all the lands
of their enemies, carrying their devastations to
the very gates of Edinburgh. A commission of
lieutenancy was then given to the earl of Argyle
and lord Hume, who did great service in pro-
tecting the country from the outlaws. Several
villages, however, near Edinburgh, were burnt ;
and all the provisions the Douglasses could find
were carried off to their castle of Tamtalian,
which served as their head quarters. The castle
of D unbar remained still in the hands of the
duke of Albany's garrison, who recognised n -
master but him. The place was well stored with
artillery of all kinds; and, lying in the neigh-
bourhood of Tamtalian, it was easy to transport
them to the siege ; but James thought he had no
right to make use of them without the consent of
one Maurice, governor of the castle. Having
summoned, by proclamation, the inhabitants of
Fife, Angus, Strathern, Stirlingshire, Lothian,
Merse, and Teviotdale, to appear at Edin-
burgh on the 10th of December, with forty days
victuals, to assist in the siege, he sent three no-
blemen to borrow artillery from Maurice, and
to remain as pledges for the safe redelivery of the
same ; and they were accordingly sent him.
This delicacy is the more remarkable as the
duke of Albany had given orders that every
thing in his castle should be at the king's service.
However unanimous the parliament might appear
against the Douglasses, yet James was but ill
seconded in this attempt. The enemies of the
Douglasses had impolitically rendered it treason-
able for any person to shelter or protect the earl
of Angus, his kinsmen, or followers. This pro-
ceeding, in a country where the Douglasses had
so many connexions, carried with it an appear-
ance of cruelty and a thirst of revenge, especially
as James had chosen such a season for carrying on
the siege. In short, after battering the place
for some days, and losing one Falconer, his
chief engineer, the king abandoned his enter-
prise. Before this time, a negociation was going
forward between James and the king of Eng-
land; which proves that the former was now
rendered placable towards the Douglasses, and
was the reason why the siege was suspended.
The truce between Scotland and England was
now near expiring ; and Henry, under that pre-
tence, gave a commission to the prior of Durham,
Thomas Magnus, Sir Anthony Ughtred, captain
of the town and castle of Berwick, William
Frankelyn, chancellor of Durham, and Sir Thomas
Tempest. England was then the principal ally
of Francis against the emperor ; and this gave a
handle for Francis to interpose so far in favor of
472
SCOTLAND.
the Douglasses, that he brought James to con-
sent to a preliminary negociation for their ob-
taining a secure retreat in England.
James being now delivered from all dread of
the Douglasses, and under no control from any
party, showed excellent dispositions for govern-
ment. Finding that the borderers were renew-
ing their depredations, he resolved to strike at
the root of an evil which had so long disgraced
his ancestors, by giving no quarter to the chiefs
of these robbers, whose residence was in Liddes-
dale. This was the more necessary, as their dar-
ing attempts had exasperated the English so
much, that they had actually burnt a town in
Teviotdale ; and had killed one Robert Kerr, a
man of some consequence. Two of the chiefs of
the Scottish borderers were Cockburn of Ken-
derlaw, and Adam Scot, commonly called the
king of the thieves. Both of them were barons;
and had been so inured to the practice that they
thought there was no crime in robbing ; they
therefore appeared publicly in Edinburgh ;
where James ordered them to be apprehended,
tried, and hanged. He next proceeded with
great firmness against many noblemen and gen-
tlemen, who were suspected of being disaffected
to the late peace. All of them had behaved
with great loyalty, and some of them had done
him the most important services. Of this num-
ber were the earl of Hume, lord Maxwell, with
the barons of Buccleugh, Farniherst, Polwart,
Johnston, and Mark Kerr; yet so zealous was
James for the impartial administration of justice
that he ordered them all, with many other chiefs
of the borderers, to be sent to prison ; where
they lay till they entered into recognizances, and
found bail for their good behaviour. Of all the
party of the Douglasses, none of any note, ex-
cepting Alexander Drummond of Carnock, was
suffered to return home, at the earnest request
of the ambassadors and the treasurer Barton.
This lenity was of very little consequence ; for
James having appointed the earl of Murray to
be sole warden of the Scottish marches, with
power to treat with the earl of Northumberland,
their conferences had broken off on account of
fresh violences. He now resolved to attempt in
person what his predecessors and he had so often
failed in by their deputies. As he was known to
be fond of hunting, he summoned his nobility
to attend him with their horses and dogs ; which
they did in such numbers, that his hunting reti-
nue consisted of above 8000 persons, two-thirds
of whom were well armed. This preparation
gave no suspicion to the borderers, as hunting
matches in those days commonly consisted of
some thousands ; and James, having set out upon
his diversion, is said to have killed 540 deer.
Among the other gentlemen who had been sum-
moned to attend him was John Armstrong of
Gilnockhall. He was the head of a numerous
clan, who lived with great splendor upon the
contributions under which they laid the English
borderers. He was himself always attended by
twenty-six gentlemen on horseback, well mount-
ed and armed, as his body guards. Having re-
ceived the king's invitation, he was fond of dis-
playing his magnificence to his sovereign ; and,
•Hiring himself and his guard more pompously
than usual, they presented themselves before
James, from whom they expected some particu-
lar mark of distinction for their services against
the English, and for the protection they had
always given to their countrymen the Scots. On
their first appearance James, not knowing who
he was, returned Armstrong's salute, imagining
him to be some nobleman, ; but, upon hearing
his name, lie ordered him and his followers to
be immediately apprehended, and hanged upon
the spot. Armstrong begged hard for his life ; and
offered to serve the king in the field with forty
horsemen, besides making him- large presents of
jewels and money, with many other tempting of-
fers; but the king was inexorable. These and some
similar executions restored peace to the borders.
Hitherto we have considered only the civil
transactions of Scotland ; but religion will now
claim a considerable share of our attention. The
opinions of Luther had been propagated in Bri-
tain soon 4fter his preaching in 1517. They had
for some years gained ground, and, when the
contentions began between James and his no-
bility, were become formidable to the establish-
ed religion. James, having escaped from the
hands of his nobles by means of the archbishop
of St. Andrew's, was naturally favorable to
the clergy, and, as they opposed the reformation,
became a zealous persecutor. On the other hand
the nobility, having opposed the kins and clergy
in civil affairs, did so likewise in religion. The
clergy finding themselves unequal in argument,
had recourse to more violent methods. Rigor-
ous inquisitions were made after heretics, and
fires were every where prepared for them. 'The
first person,' says Dr. Stuart, ' who was called
upon to suffer for the reformed religion was Pa-
trick Hamilton, abbot of Feme. At an early
period of life he had been appointed to this ab-
bacy ; and, having imbibed a favorable idea of
the doctrines of Luther, he had travelled into
Germany, where, becoming acquainted with the
most eminent reformers, he was fully confirmed
in their opinions. Upon his return to Scotland
he exposed the corruptions of the church, and
insisted on the advantages of the tenets which he
had embraced. A conduct so bold, and the
avidity with which his discourses were received
by the people, gave an alarm to the clergy.
Under the pretence of a religious and friendly
conference he was seduced to St. Andrew's by
Alexander Campbell, a Dominican friar, wh-i
was instructed to remonstrate with him on the
subject of the reformation. The conversation
they held only served to establish the abbot more
firmly in his sentiments, and to inflame his zeal to
propagate them. The archbishops of St. An-
drews and Glasgow, and other dignitaries of the
church, constituting a court, called him to appear
before them. The abbot neither lost his cour.ut ,
nor renounced his opinions. lie was convicted
accordingly of heretical pravity, delivered over
to the secular arm, and executed in 1527. His
tenets are thus enumerated in the sentence : —
4 Man hath no free will. Man is in sin so long
as he liveth. Children, incontinent after their
baptism, are sinners. All Christians, that be
worlhie to be called Christians, do know that
they are in grace. No man is justified by woi k>,
S C O T L A N D.
473
but by faith only- Good works make not a good
man, but a good man doth make goo-' works;
and faith, hope, and charity, are so knit, that he
that hath the one hath the rest ; ana he that
wanteth the one of them wanteth the rest.'
(Keith's Hist. p. 3). This reformer had not at-
tained the twenty-fourth year of his age. His
youth, his virtue, his magnanimity, and his suf-
ferings, all operated in his favor with the people.
To Alexander Campbell, who insulted him at
the stake, he objected his treachery, and cited
him to answer for his behaviour before the judg-
ment seat of Christ. And this persecutor, a few
days after, being seized with a frenzy, and dying
in that condition, it was believed and affirmed
with confidence that Mr. Hamilton was an in-
nocent man and a martyr. A deed so affecting,
from its novelty and circumstances, excited
throughout the kingdom a universal indignation
and curiosity. Particular enquiries were made
into the tenets of Hamilton. Converts to the
new opinions multiplied in every quarter, and a
partiality to them began to prevail even among,
the Romish clergy. Alexander Seton, the king's
confessor, inveighed against the errors and abuses
of Popery ; neglected in his discourses all men-
tion of purgatory, and pilgrimages, and saints ;
and recommended the doctrines of the reformed.
What he taught was impugned ; and, his bold-
ness rising with contradiction, he defended
warmly his opinions, and even affirmed that in
Scotland there were no true and faithful bishops.
A sarcasm so just, and so daring, provoked the
whole body of the prelacy. They studied to
compass his destruction ; and, as Mr. Seton had
exhorted the king to a greater purity of life, they
iioped to conduct him to the stake ; but he fled
into England. In 1533 Henry Forest, a Bene-
dictine friar, who adopted the reformed doctrines,
was not so fortunate. After having been impri-
soned for some time in the tower of St. An-
drews, he was brought to trial, condemned, and
burnt. He had said that Mr. Hamilton was a
pious man and a martyr ; and that the tenets for
which he suffered might be vindicated. This
guilt was aggravated by the discovery that friar
Forest was in possession of a New Testament in
the English language. A cruelty so repugnant
to the feelings of mankind, while it pleased the
pride of the ecclesiastics, was destroying their
importance, and exciting a general disposition
in the people to adopt the principles and senti-
ments of the reformed. In 1534 archbishop
James Beaton of St. Andrews, though remarka-
ble for prudence and moderation, was overawed
by his nephew and coadjutor David Beaton and
by the clergy. By commission, granted by him,
persecutions were carried on with violence.
Many were driven into banishment, and many
were forced to acknowledge what they did not
believe. The more strenuous and resolute were
delivered over to punishment. Among these were
two private gentlemen, Norman Gourlay and
David Stratton. They were tried at Holyrood
House before the bishop of Ross ; and, refusing
to recant, were condemned. King James, who
was present, appeared exceedingly solicitous
that they should recant their opinions ; and Strat-
ton, upon being adjudged to the fire, having
begqed for mercv, was about to receive it, when
the priests proudly pronounced that the grace o.
the sovereign could not be extended to a crimi-
nal whom their law had doomed to suffer. A
few years after, the bishops having assembled at
Edinburgh, two Dominican friars, Killor and
Beverage, with Sir Duncan Sympson a priest,
Robert Forrester a gentleman of Stirling, and
Thomas Forest vicar of Dolour in Perthshire,
were condemned to be burnt together. At Glas-
gow a similar scene was acted in 1539 ; Hiero-
nymus Russel, a gray friar, and a young gentle-
man named Kennedy, were accused of heresy
before the bishop. Russel, when brought to the
stake, displaying a deliberate demeanor, reason-
ed gravely with his accusers, and was only an-
swered with reproaches. Mr. Kennedy, who
was not yet eighteen years of age, seemed dis-
posed to disavow his opinions, and to sink under
the weight of cruel affliction ; but, the exhorta-
tion and example of* Russel awakening his cou-
rage, his mind assumed a firmness and constancy,
his countenance became cheerful, and he ex-
claimed with a joyful voice, ' Now I defy thee,
death ; I praise my God, I am ready.' James
Beaton, archbishop of St. Andrews, having died
about this time, the ambition of David Beaton,
his coadjutor, was gratified in the fullest manner.
He had before been created a cardinal, and was
now advanced to the primacy of Scotland. No
Scottish ecclesiastic had been ever invested with
greater authority ; and the reformers had every
thing to fear from so formidable an enemy.
The natural violence of his temper had swelled
into an overbearing insolence. His youth had
been passed in scenes of policy and intrigue,
which gave him address and knowledge of men.
He was dark and designing. No principles of
justice were any bar to his schemes ; nor did his
heart open to any impressions of pity. His
ruling passion was an inordinate love of power;
and, his consequence depending upon the church
of Rome, he maintained its superstitions with the
warmest zeal. He seemed to take a delight in
perfidiousness and dissimulation ; had certainly
no religion ; and indulged in the most open pro-
fligacy of manners. In connexion with these de-
fects he possessed a persevering obstinacy in pur-
suing his measures, and practised all the arts
necessary to advance them. He was scarcely
invested in the primacy when he exhibited his
taste for magnificence, and his aversion to the
reformed. He proceeded to St. Andrews with
an uncommon pomp and parade. The earls of
Iluntly, Arran, Marischal, and Montrose, with
the lords Fleming, Lindsay, Erskine, and Seton,
honored him with their attendance; and there
appeared in his train Gavin archbishop of Glas-
gow and lord high chancellor, four bishops, six
abbots, many private gentlemen, and a vast mul-
titude of the inferior clergy. In the cathedral,
from a throne erected by his command, he ha-
rangued on the state of religion and the church to
this company and a crowd of other auditors. He
lamented the increase of heretics; insisted upon
their audacity: and urged the necessity of actine
against them with rigor. He told this assembly
that he had cited Sir John Borlhwick to appeal
before it for maintaining tenets of faith hostile
474
SCOTLAND.
to the church, and for dispersing Heretical books,
and he desired their assistance in bringing him
to justice. Thirteen articles of accusation were
accordingly read against him ; but he neither
appeared personally nor by any agent or deputy.
He was however found guilty; and the cardinal,
with a solemnity calculated to strike with awe
and terror, pronounced sentence against him.
His goods and estate were confiscated ; and a
painted representation of him was burnt publicly.
It was declared that every office of humanity,
comfort, and solacement extended to him should
be considered as criminal, and be punished with
confiscations and forfeitures. Sir John Borth-
wick, having been apprised of his danger, fled
into England, where he was kindly received by
Henry VIII., who employed him in negociations
with the Protestant princes of Germany. Car-
dinal Beaton perceived with concern that this
act of severity did not terrify the people. New
defections from the church were announced. An-
drew Cunningham, son to the master of Glen-
cairn, James Hamilton brother to Patrick Ha-
milton the martyr, and the celebrated George
Buchanan the historian, were imprisoned upon
suspicion of heresy ; and, if they had not escaped,
must have died at the stake. In this declining
condition of popery the cardinal held many
mournful consultations with the bishops. All
their wisdom was employed to devise methods
to support their power. The project of an in-
quisitorial court was conceived. To erect this
tribunal they allured James V. with the hopes of
the confiscation and spoils which might enrich
him, from the persecution and punishment of the
reformed. He yielded to their solicitations, and
gave them the sanction of his authority. A for-
mal commission was granted, constituting a court
of enquiry after heretics, and nominating for its
president Sir James Hamilton of Fennard, natural
brother to the earl of Arran. The officious zeal
of this man, his ambition, and thirst of blood,
were acceptable in a high degree to the clergy ;
and to this bad eminence their recommendation
had promoted him. Upon the slightest suspicion
he was allowed to call any person before him, to
scrutinise into his creed, and to absolve or to
condemn him. A tribunal so dreadful could not
have found a director more suited to it. He was
in haste to fill the prisons with culprits, and was
marking down the names of all those to whom
heresy was imputed by popular report. But,
while he was brooding over mischief, and multi-
plying in fancy the triumphs of his wickedness,
an unexpected turn of affairs presented him in
the light of a criminal, and brought him to the
scaffold. The brother of Mr. Hamilton the mar-
tyr, to avoid persecution, had been obliged to
go into banishment ; but, by the intercession of
his friends, he was permitted to return for a
short time to his own country, that he might
regulate the affairs of his family. He was con-
nected with Sir James Hamilton, and, trusting
to the ties of blood, ventured to prolong his stay
beyond the period allotted to him. Sir James,
willing to give a signal example of severity, and
thus to ingratiate himself with the priesthood,
resolved to make his own relation the first victim
of his power. Mr. Hamilton, however, being
acquainted with the most private machinations
of this inquisitor, despatched his son to the
king, who was about to pass the Forth in a
barge, and entreated him to provide for his safety
as Sir James Hamilton had conspired with thf
house of Douglas to assassinate him. James V.
being at variance with the house of Douglas
was disposed to believe every thing flagitious of
Sir James Hamilton. He ordered the young
gentleman to go with expedition to Edinburgh,
and to open the matter to the privy -council ; and he
furnished him with the ring which he sent to them
upon these important occasions, which required
their address and activity. Sir James Hamilton
was apprehended and imprisoned. An accusa-
tion of having devised the king's death was pre-
ferred against him. His defence appeared un-
satisfactory. A jury of men of rank and
character pronounced him guilty ; and, being
condemned to suffer the death of a traitor, he lost
his head, and the quarters of his body were ex-
posed on the gates of the city of Edinburgh.
The clergy, who could not prevent his trial and
execution, regretted his death, but did not ap-
point a successor to him in their court of inqui-
sition.'— Dr. Gilbert Stuart's History of the
Reformation.
In other respects, however, James showed
great concern for the welfare of his people.
Being dissatisfied with the ordinary administra-
tion of justice, he had recourse to the parliament
of Paris for a model of the like institution in
Scotland. Great objections lay to ambulatory
courts of justice. The authority of the heritable
jurisdiction was almost exclusive of all law ; for,
though the king might preside in them, yet he
seldom did ; and appeals to the council were
disagreeable and expensive. The institution of
the lords of articles threw too much weight into
their scale, as no business could be transacted in
parliament but what they prepared ; and it was
in the power of the king to direct them as he
pleased. The true source of the public grievances
in matters of property lay in the disregard shown
to the excellent acts which had passed during
the reigns of James I., II., and III., and which
bad not been supported in the late reigns. The
evil had gathered strength during the minority
of James V. ; and he resolved to establish a
standing jury for all matters of law and equity,
with a president, who was to be the mouth of
the assembly. On the 13th of May, this year,
as we find by a curious MS. in the British mu-
seum, the lords of the articles laid before the
parliament the proposition for instituting the
court of session in the following words : — ' Item,
anent the second artikel concerning the order of
justice ; because our sovereign lord is maist de-
sirous to have an permanent order of justice for
the universal of all his lieges ; and therefore
tendis to institute an college of cunning and
wise men for doing and administration of justice
in all ciril actions ; and therefore thinke to be
chosen certain persons maist convenient and qua-
lified yair (there), to the number of fifteen per-
sons, half spiritual, half temporal, with an pre-
sident.' In 1553 hostilities were recommenced
with England ; but, after some slight incursions
on both sides, a truce again took place. The
SCOTLAND.
475
chief transactions of these years, however, were
the negociations for the king's marriage. Indeed
there is scarcely any monarch mentioned in history
who seems to have had a greater variety of choice,
or who was more difficult to he pleased. The si-
tuation of affairs on the continent of Europe had
rendered Scotland a kingdom of great conse-
quence, as holding the balance of power between
France and England, and the emperor of Ger-
many ; and each of the rival powers endeavoured
to gain the favor of James by giving him a wife.
In 1534 king Francis offered him hrs daughter;
and the match was strongly recommended by
the duke of Albany, who was still living in
France. The same year the imperial ambassador
arrived in Scotland, and presented, in the name
of his master, the order of the golden fleece to
James, who had already been invested with that
of St. Michael by Francis. At the same time he
offered him his choice of three princesses ;
Mary of Austria, the emperor's sister, and widow
of Lewis king of Hungary ; Mary of Portugal,
the daughter of his sister Eleanora of Austria ;
or Mary of England, the daughter of Catharine
and Henry. Another condition, however, was
annexed to this proposal ; viz. that, to suppress
the heresies of the time, a council should be
held for obviating the calamities which threat-
ened the Christian religion. These proposals
would have met with a more ready acceptance
from James, had not his clergy at this time
been disgusted with Charles for allowing too
great a latitude to the Protestants of Germany.
James, in his answer, returned the emperor
his polite acknowledgments for the splendid
alliances he had offered him : touched on the
proposal of the council as being a measure
rather to be wished for than hoped, because
it ought to be free and holy, and upon the
model of the first councils; and observed that, if
such a council could be obtained, he would send
ecclesiastics to it ; but, if not, every prince ought
to reform the errors of the clergy within his own
dominions. He bewailed the obstinate conduct
of his uncle in his divorce and marriage ; and
offered his best offices for effecting a reconcilia-
tion between him and the emperor, wishing that
all the princes of Christendom would unite their
arms against their common enemy the Turks.
He hinted, very justly, that his imperial majesty
had offered more than he could perform, because
his cousin, Mary of England, was not at his
disposal. That it would be impolitic to give a
preference to any of the three princesses, all of
them being so illustrious and deserving ; but, to
show how much he valued an alliance with his
imperial majesty, he would become a suppliant to
that prince for his niece, daughter to Christian
king of Denmark, to become his bride. The
ambassador's answer to this unexpected request
was that she was already betrothed to the count
palatine. But, whether the emperor had any right
to offer the English princess or not, it is agreed
by most historians that he was offered either
Mary or Elizabeth by their father Henry him-
self. To Mary of Bourbon, the daughter of the
duke of Vendosme, he is said to have been con-
tracted ; but for some reason or other all these
matches were broken off; and the king at last
went to France, where he married Magdalen the
eldest daughter of Francis. The nuptials were
celebrated at Paris in 1537, with great magnifi-
cence ; arnd among other things served up by way
of dessert at the marriage feast, were a number of
covered cups filled, it is said, with pieces of gold
and gold dust, the product of Scotland, which
James distributed among the guests. This gold
was found in the mines of Crawford Moor, then
worked by the Germans. In the beginning of
May the royal pair embarked for Leith, under
convoy of four large ships of war, and landed
on the 28th of the same month. The joy of the
Scots was universal, but it was of short continu-
ance ; for the young queen died of a ferer on
the 22d of July the same year. King James did
not long remain a widower ; for the same year
he sent Beaton, abbot of Arbroath, to treat of
his second marriage with a French lady, Mary of
Guise, duchess-dowager of Longueville. In
this he was rivalled by his uncle Henry VIII.,
but not before James had been contracted to her.
Henry, however, not only insisted upon having
this lady for his wife, but threw out some menaces
against Francis, because he would not comply
with his request. In January, 1538, she was
married to James, and escorted to Scotland by
the admiral of France with a considerable
squadron, both James and Francis being sus-
picious that Henry would make some attempt to
intercept the royal bride. But nothing of this
kind happened : and she landed safely at Fife
Ness ; whence she was conducted to the king at
St. Andrew's. But, while James was thus com-
pleting his domestic arrangements, he was in
other matters showing himself a bloody tyrant.
Some differences subsisted between the families
of Gordon and Forbes in the north. The heir
of the house last mentioned had been educated
in a loose dissipated manner, and kept company
with a worthless fellow named Strahan. Having
refused this favorite something he had asked, the
latter attached himself to Gordon earl of Hunt-
ly, who, it is said, assisted him in forging a
charge of treason against Forbes. He was ac-
cused of intending to restore the Douglasses to
their forfeited estates and honors ; which impro-
bable story being supported by some venal evi-
dence, the unhappy young man was condemned
and executed as a traitor. The king could not
but see the injustice of this execution ; and, to
make some amends for it, banished Strahan the
kingdom. Another execution, which happened a
few days after, was even more inhuman. The earl
of Angus, finding that he could not regain the fa-
vor of the king, had recourse to a method usual in
those days for attracting his notice, viz. the com-
mitting of depredations on the borders. This
crime was sufficient with James to occasion the
death of his innocent sister, the dowager lady of
Glammis. She had been courted by one Lyon,
whom she had rejected in favor of a gentleman
of the name of Campbell. Lyon, exasperated
at his repulse, found means of admittance to
James, whom he filled with the greatest terrors
on account of the practices of the family of An-
gus ; and at last charged the lady, her husband,
and an old priest, with a design of poisoning the
king. The parties were all remarkable for the
476
SCOTLAND.
quiet and innocent lives they led ; and this cir-
cumstance was by their diabolical accuser turned
to their prejudice, by representing it as the effect
of cunning. However, the evidence against the
lady appeared so absurd and contradictory that
some of the judges were for dropping the prose-
cution, and others for recommending her case to
the king ; but the majority prevailed to have it
determined by a jury, who brought her in guilty ;
and she was condemned to be burnt alive ou the
Castle-hill of Edinburgh. The defence she made
would have done honor to the ablest orator, and
undeniably proved her innocence, but, though it
was reported to James, it was so far from miti-
gating her sentence that it was aggravated by her
husband being obliged to behold her execution.
The unhappy man endeavoured to make his way
over the castle wall of Edinburgh ; but, the rope
proving too short, he was dashed in pieces : and
lord Glammis her son, though but a child, was
imprisoned during the remainder of this reign.
The old priest, though put to the torture, con-
fessed nothing, and was freed. Lyon, like
Strahan, was banished the kingdom. Whether
these and other cruelties had affected the king's
conscience, or whether his brain had been
touched by the distractions of the different par-
ties is unknown; but it is certain that, in 1540,
he began to live retired: his palace appeared
like the cloistered retreat of monks ; his sleep
was haunted by' the most frightful dreams, which
he construed into apparitions ; and the body of
Sir James Hamilton seemed continually present
to his eyes. Perhaps the loss of his two sons,
who died on the same day that Sir James was
executed, might have contributed to bring this
man more remarkably to his remembrance. No
doubt it added to the gloom of his mind ; and
he now saw his court abandoned by almost all
h»s nobility. At last James was in some degree
roused from his inaction, by the preparations
made against him lf/y his uncle Henry Vlli. of
England. Some differences had already taken
place ; to accommodate which Henry had de-
sired a conference with James at York. But
this the latter, by the advice of his parliament,
had declined. The consequence was a rupture
between the two courts, and the English had
taken twenty of the Scots' trading vessels. Henry
threatened to revive the antiquated claim of the
English superiority over Scotland, and had given
orders for a formidable invasion of the Scottish
borders. He complained that James had usurped
the title of Defender of the Faith, to which he
had added the word Christian, implying that
Henry was an infidel : but the kings of Scotland
had, some time before, been complimented by the
papal see with that title. James, on the other
hand, threw his eyes towards Ireland, the north
part of which was actually peopled with inhabi-
tants, who owned no sovereign but the king of
Scotland, and who offered to serve James against
the English : some of their chiefs having re-
paired to Scotland, and done homage to James,
llenryhad about this time declared himself king
• if Ireland, of which he was before only styled the
lord ; and James roundly asserted that he had a
(•referable claim to at least one-half of that island,
u hich had been peopled by the subjects of Scot-
land. Though the Scottish historians of this reign
take very little notice of this incident, James ap-
pears to have been very tenacious of his title;
and a vast intercourse was certainly carried on
between the subjects of Scotland and the northern
Irish, who unanimously acknowledged James for
their natural sovereign. Indeed, this was the only
ground of quarrel that the king, with the least
shadow of justice, could allege against Henry.
His parliament being met, many public-spirited
acts were passed ; and, before the assembly was
dissolved, the members renewed the acts against
leasing making; by which is meant the misrepre-
senting of the king to his nobles, or the nobles to
their king: and James, to dismiss them in good
humor, passed an act of free grace for all crimes
committed in his minority; the earl of Angus,
and Sir George and Sir Archibald Douglas being
excepted. Henry, after cutting off the head of
his wife Catharine Howard, married and divorced
the princess Anne of Cleves, and found himself
either deserted or distrusted by all the princes on
the continent, Protestant as well as Roman catho-
lic. James and his clergy jelled greatly on this
public odium incurred by Henry ; but the em-
peror, having again quarrelled with Francis, left
Henry, whose dominions they had threatened
jointly to invade, at liberty to continue his pre-
parations against the Scots. He first ordered his
fleet, then the most formidable of any in the
world, to make fresh descents upon Scotland.
At the same time he appointed a very considera-
ble army to rendezvous upon the borders, under
Sir Robert Bowes, the earl of Angus, and his
brothers Sir George and Sir Archibald Douglas.
James was every day expecting supplies of
money, arms, and other necessaries from Francis ;
but, these not arriving, he reassembled his par-
liament on the 14th of March, who gratified him
in all his demands. Many excellent regulations
were made for the internal government, peace,
and security of the kingdom, and against the
exportation of money instead of merchandise.
Acts were passed for fortifying and embellishing
the town of Edinburgh, and for better supplying
Scotland with wine. The royal revenue was
increased by many additional estates ; and the
last hand was put to one of the best plans for a
national militia that perhaps ever appeared. As
yet, excepting in the disappointment which
Henry met wiih from his nephew in not meeting
him at York, he had no grounds for commencing
hostilities. But the queen-mother was now dead ;
and consequently the connexion between James
and Henry was weakened. Whatever her private
character might have been, she was a happy in-
strument of preventing bloodshed between the
two kingdoms. She was buried with royal
honors at Perth. James, to all appearance, was
at this time in a most desirable situation. His
domain, by forfeitures and otherwise, farexceeded
that of any of his predecessors. He could com-
mand the purses of his clergy; had large sums
of ready money in his exchequer; his forts were
well stored and fortified ; and he was now daily
receiving remittances of money, arms, and ammu-
nition from France. All this show of happiness
was only in appearance; for the affections of his
nobility, and the wiser part of his subjects, were
SCOTLAND.
477
now alienated from him more than ever, by his
excessive bigotry and superstition. He had no-
minated the earl of Huntly to the command of
his army on the borders, consisting of 10,000
men ; and his lieutenant-general was Sir Walter
Lindsay of Torphichen, who had seen a great
deal of foreign service, and was esteemed an ex-
cellent officer. Huntly acquitted himself admi-
rably in his commission ; and was so well served
by his spies as to have certain intelligence that
the English intended to surprise and burn Jed-
burgh and Kelso. The English army under Sir
Robert Bowes and the Douglasses, with other
northern Englishmen, continued still upon the
borders ; and one of the resolutions the Scottish
nobility and gentry had come to was, not to
attack them on their own ground, nor to act
offensively, unless their enemies invaded Scot-
land. Huntly being informed that the English
had advanced on the 24th of August to a place
called Haldanrig, and that they had destroyed
great part of the Scottish arid debateable lands,
resolved to engage them : and the English were
astonished when at day break they saw the
Scots drawn up in order of battle. Neither
party could now retreat without fighting; and
Torphichen, who led the van, consisting of
2000 of the best troops of Scotland, charged the
English so furiously that Huntly gained a com-
plete and an easy victory. Above 200 of the
English were killed, and 600 taken prisoners ;
among whom were their general Sir Robert
Bowes, Sir William Mowbray, and about sixty
of the most distinguished northern barons ; the
earl of Angus escaping by the swiftness of his
horse. The loss of the Scots was inconsiderable.
Meanwhile the duke of Norfolk, having raised
a great army, had orders to march northwards,
and to disperse a manifesto, complaining of James
for having disappointed him of his interview at
York, and reviving the ridiculous claim of supe-
riority over the kingdom of Scotland. It was
plain, from the words of this manifesto, that
Henry was still placable towards James ; and
that he would easily have dropped that claim, if
his nephew would have made any advances
towards a reconciliation. The condition of James
was now deplorable. The few faithful coun-
sellors he had about him, such as Kirkaldy of
Grange, then lord treasurer, plainly intimated
that he could have no dependence on his nobles,
as he was devoted to the clergy ; and James
sometimes, in a fit of distraction, would draw
his dagger upon the cardinal and other ecclesi-
astics, when they came to him with fresh propo-
sitions of murder and proscriptions, and drive
them out of his presence. But he had no con-
stancy of mind ; and he certainly put into his
pocket a bloody scroll that had been brought him
by his priests, beginning with the earl of Arran,
the first subject of the kingdom. In one of his
cooler moments he appointed lord Erskine, and
some others of his nobility, to make a fresh at-
tempt to gain time; and Henry even conde-
scended to order the duke of Norfolk (who was
then advanced as far as York), the lord privy
seal, ths bishop of Durham, and others, to treat
with him. The conferences were short and un-
successful. The duke bitterly complained that
the Scots sought only to amuse him till the sea-
son for action was over. In short, he considered
both them and Learmonth, who was ordered to
attend him, as so many spies, and treated them
accordingly. It was the 21st of October before
he entered the east borders of Scotland. Ac-
cording to the Scottish historians, his army con-
sisted of 40,000 men ; but the English have fixed
it at 20,000. James affected to complain of this
invasion as unprovoked ; but he lost no time in
preparing to repel the danger. The situation of
his nobility, who were pressed by a foreign inva-
sion on the one hand and domestic tyrants on the
other, induced them to hold frequent consulta-
tions; the king, who was encamped with his
army at Falla Moor, hearing of this, removed
hastily to Edinburgh; from which he sent orders
for his army to advance, and give battle to the
duke of Norfolk. The answer of the nobility was,
that they were determined not to attack the duke
upon English ground; but that, if he invaded
Scotland, they knew their duty. The earl of
Huntly, who commanded the van of the Scottish
army, consisting of 10,000 men, was of the
same opinion ; but no sooner did Norfolk pass
the Tweed than he harassed the English army,
cut off their foraging parties, and distressed them
in such a manner that the duke agreed once
more to a conference for peace ; which was ma-
naged on the part of the Scots by the bishop of
Orkney and Sir James Learmonth ; but nothing
was concluded. The English general, rinding it
now impossible to prosecute his invasion, re-
passed the Tweed ; and was harassed in his
march by the earl of Huntly, who desisted
from the pursuit when his enemies gained
English ground. James, whose army at this time
amounted to above 30,000 men, continued still
at Edinburgh, from which he sent frequent mes-
sages to order his nobility and generals to follow
the duke of Norfolk into England ; but these
were disregarded. James was flattered that now
he had it in his power to be revenged for all the
indignities that had been offered by England to
Scotland. In this he was encouraged by the
French ambassador, and the high opinion he had
of his own trcops. About the beginning of No-
vember he came to a resolution of reassembling
his army, which was disbanded upon the duke of
Norfolk's retreat. This project appeared so fea-
sible and so promising that several of the nobili-
ty fell in with it, particularly lord Maxwell, the
earls of Arran, Cassils, and Glencairn.with lords
Fleming, Somerville, and Erskine : others repre-
sented, but in vain, that the arms of Scotland
had already gained sufficient honor, by obliging
the powerful army of the English, with their
most experienced general at their head, to make
a shameful retreat before a handful ; that the
force of Scotland was inferior to that of England ;
and that an honorable peace was still practicable.
It was said, in reply to these considerations, that
the state of the quarrel was now greatly altered ;
that Henry had in his manifesto declared his in-
tention to enslave their country ; that he treated
the nobility as his vassals; that the duke of Nor-
folk had been guilty of burning the dwellings of
the defenceless inhabitants, by hying above
twenty villages and towns in ashes ; and that no
478
SCOTLAND.
Scotchman, who was not corrupted by Henry's
gold, would oppose the king's will. The last,
perhaps, was the chief argument that prevailed
on lord Maxwell, a nobleman of great honor and
courage, to agree to carry the war into England
by Solway, provided he was at the head of 10,000
men. It was at last agreed that the earl of Arran
and the cardinal should openly raise men, as if
they intended to enter the east marches, where
they were to make only a feint, while lord Max-
well was to make the real attempt upon the west.
Private letters were every where circulated to raise
the men who were to serve under the lord Max-
well ; among whom were the earJs of Cassils and
Glencairn, the lords Fleming, Somerville, Erskine,
and many other persons of great consideration.
James, who was never suspected of want of cou-
rage, probably would have put himself at the head
of this expedition, had he not been dissuaded
from it by his priests and minions, who reminded
him of the consultations at Falla Moor, and the
other treasonable practices of the nobility. They
added that, most of them being corrupted by the
English gold, he could not be too much on his
guard. He was at last persuaded to repair to the
castle of Lochmaben near Carlaverock, and there
to wait the issue of the inroad. It was probably
at this place that James was prevailed on to come
to the fatal resolution of appointing one Oliver
Sinclair, a son of the house of Roslin, and a fa-
vorite minion at court, to command the army in
chief; and his commission was made out accord-
ingly. On the 23d of November the Scots began
their march at midnight; and, having passed the
Esk, all the adjacent villages were seen in flames
by the break of day. Sir Thomas Wharton, the
English warden of those marches, Dacres and
Mulgrave, hastily raised about 500 men, and drew
them up upon an advantageous ground ; when
Sinclair, ordering the royal banner to be display-
ed, and being mounted on the shoulders of two
tall men, produced and read his commission. It
is impossible to conceive the consternation into
which the Scots were thrown upon this occasion ;
their leaders setting the example, the whole army
declared that they would rather surrender them-
selves prisoners to the English than submit to
be commanded by such a general. In an instant
all order in the Scottish army was broken down ;
horse and foot, soldiers and noblemen and pea-
sants, were intermingled. The English general
perceived this confusion : 100 of his light-horse
advanced ; they met with no resistance : the
nobles were the first who surrendered themselves
prisoners ; and, the rest of the English advancing,
they obtained a bloodless victory ; for even the
women and the boys made prisoners of Scotch
soldiers, and none were killed. Lord Herbert
relates the circumstances of this shameful affair,
and agrees with the Scottish authorities on the
whole ; but mentions that only 800 common
soldiers were made prisoners. The chief pri-
soners were the earls of Cassils and Glencairn,
the lords Maxwell, Fleming, Somerville, Oli-
phant, and Gray, and above 200 gentlemen.
James was then at Carlaverock, about twelve
miles distant from the place of action, depressed
in his spirits, and anxious about the event of the
expedition, still called the Raid of Solway Moss.
When the news came, and that the earl of Arran
and the cardinal were returned to Edinburgh,
he was seized with an additional dejection of
mind, which brought him to his grave. In such
a situation every cruel action of his life wound-
ed his conscience ; and he at last sunk into a
sullen melancholy, which admitted of no conso-
lation. From Carlarerock he removed to Falk-
land ; and sometimes expressed himself as if he
thought the whole body of his nobility were in a
conspiracy against him. The presence of the
few attendants who were admitted into his cham-
ber, and who were the wicked instruments of his
misconduct, seemed to aggravate his sufferings,
and he either could not or would not take any
sustenance. His death being now inevitable,
Beaton approached his bed side with a paper, to
which he is said to have directed the king's hand,
pretending that it was his last will. On the 18th
of December, while James was in this deplorable
state, a messenger came from Linlithgow, with an
account that the queen was brought to bed of a
daughter ; and the last words he was distinctly
heard to say were, ' It will end as it began : the
crown came by a woman, and it will go with
one ; many miseries approach this poor king-
dom : Henry will either master it by arms, or
win it by marriage.' He then turned his face to
the wall, and in broken ejaculations pronounced
the word Solway Moss, and some faint expres-
sions alluding to the disgrace which the Scots
had just suffered there. In this state he lan-
guished for some days ; and died on the 1 3th.
V. HISTORY OF SCOTLAND UNTIL THE UNION
OF THE SCOTTISH AND ENGLISH CROWNS. — James
V. was succeeded by his infant daughter Mary.
He had taken no steps for the security of his
kingdom, so that ambitious men had now another
opportunity of throwing the public affairs iivto
confusion. The situation of Scotland indeed at
this time was very critical. Many of the nobi-
lity were prisoners in England, and* those who
remained at home were factious and turbulent.
The nation was dispirited. Commotions were
daily excited on account of religion, and Henry
VIII. had formed a design of adding Scotland to
his other dominions. By a testamentary deed
which cardinal Beaton had forged in the name
of his sovereign, he was appointed tutor to the
queen and governor of the realm, and three of
the principal nobility were named to act as his
counsellors in the administration The nobility
and the people, however, calling in question the
authenticity of this deed, which he could not es-
tablish, the cardinal was degraded ; and the
states ad'vanced to the regency James Hamilton,
earl of Arran, whom they judged to be entitled
to this distinction, as the second person in the
kingdom, and the nearest heir, after Mary, to
the crown. 'The disgrace of cardinal Beaton,'
Dr. Stuart observes, ' might have proved the de-
struction of his party, if the earl of Arran had
been endowed with vigor of mind and ability.
But he was too indolent to gain partizans, and
too irresolute to fix them. Slight difficulties
filled him with embarrassment, and gieat ones
overpowered him. His enemies, applying them-
selves to the timidity of his disposition, betrayed
him into weaknesses; and the esteem which his
SCOTLAND.
479
gentleness had procured him in private life was
lost in the contempt attending his public con-
duct, which was feeble, fluctuating, and incon-
sistent. The attachment which he professed for
the reformed religion drew to him the love of the
people ; his high birth, and the mildness of his
virtues, conciliated their respect ; and, from his
name being at the head of the roll of heretics
which the clergy had presented to the late king,
a sentiment of tenderness was mingled with his
popularity. His conduct corresponded, at first,
with the impressions entertained in his favor.
Thomas Guillarae and John Rough, two cele-
brated preachers, were invited to live in his
house ; and he permitted them to declaim openly
against the errors of the church of Rome. They
attacked and exposed the supremacy of the pope,
the worship of images, and the invocation of
saints. Cardinal Beaton and the prelates were
exceedingly provoked, and indefatigably active
to defend the established doctrines. This pub-
lic sanction afforded to the reformation was of
little consequence, however, when compared
with a measure which was soon after adopted by
Robeit lord Maxwell. He proposed that the
liberty of reading the scriptures in the vulgar
tongue should be permitted to the people ; and
that, for the future, no heretical guilt should be
inferred against any person for having them in
his possession or for making use of them. The
regent and the three estates acknowledged the
propriety of this proposal. Gavin Dunbar arch-
bishop of Glasgow, and chancellor of Scotland,
protested, indeed, for himselfand for the church,
that no act on this subject should pass and be
effectual, till a provincial council of all the
clergy of the kingdom should consider and de-
termine, whether there was a necessity that the
people should consult and study the scriptures
in the vulgar tongue ; but, his protestation being
disregarded, the bill of the lord Maxwell was
carried into a law, and the regent made it gene-
rally known by a proclamation. From this pe-
riod copies of the bible were imported in great
numbers from England ; and, men allured by an
appeal so flattering to their reason, were proud
to recover from the supine ignorance in which
they had been kept by an artful priesthood. To
read became a common accomplishment ; and
books were multiplied in every quarter, which
disclosed the pride, the tyranny, and the absur-
dities of the Romish church and superstitions.'
The death of James V. proved very favorable to
the ambitious designs of Henry. He now pro-
posed a union of the two kingdoms by the mar-
riage of his son Edward VI. with Mary the
young queen of Scotland. To promote this, he
released the noblemen who had been taken pri-
soners at Solway, after having engaged them on
oath, not only to concur in promoting the alli-
ance, but to endeavour to procure him the charge
and custody of the young queen, with the govern-
ment of her kingdom, and the possession of her
castles. The earl of Angus, and his brother, who
had been fifteen years in exile, accompanied
them to Scotland, and brought letters from
Henry recommending them to the restitution of
their honors and estates. The regent was in-
clined to favor the demands of persons of such
eminent station ; but, though the states were in-
clined to the marriage, they refused to permit
the removal of the queen into England, and treat-
ed with contempt the idea of giving the govern-
ment of Scotland and the care of the castles to
the king of England. Sir Ralph Sadler, the
English ambassador, exerted all his endeavours
to induce the regent to comply with the requisi-
tions of his master; but all his intrigues were
unsuccessful ; and Henry at last authorised the
commissioners to consent to treaties of amity
and marriage, on the most favorable terms that
could be procured. In consequence of these
powers, it was agreed that a firm peace and al-
liance should take place between the two nations
and that they should mutually defend and pro
tect one another in case of an invasion. The
queen was to remain within her own dominions
till she was ten years of age ; and Henry was
not to claim any share in the government. Six
nobles, or their apparent heirs, were to be surren-
dered to him in security for the conveyance of
the young queen into England, and for her mar-
riage with prince Edward, as soon as she was ten
years of age. It was also stipulated that, though
the queen should have issue by Edward, Scotland
should retain not only its name, but its laws and
liberties. These conditions, however advantage-
ous to Scotland, yet did not give entire satisfac-
tion. Beaton, who had been imprisoned on
suspicion of treasonable schemes, and was now
released from his confinement by the influence of
the queen-dowager, took all opportunities of ex-
claiming against the alliance, as tending to de-
stroy the independency of the kingdom. He
pointed out to the churchmen the dangers which
arose from the prevalence of heresy, and urged
them to unanimity and zeal. Awakening all
their fears and selfishness, they granted him a
large sum of money, with which he might gain
partizans ; the friars were instructed to preach
against the treaties with England ; and fanatical
men were instructed to display their rage in of-
fering indignities to Sir Ralph Sadler. Cardinal
Beaton was not the only antagonist the regent
had to deal with. The earls of Argyle, Huntly,
Bothwel, and Murray, concurred in the opposi-
tion ; and having collected some troops, and pos-
sessed themselves of the queen's person, they
assumed all the authority of the government.
They were joined by Matthew earl of Lennox,
who was made to hope that he might espouse the
queen-dowager and obtain the regency. He was
also inclined to oppose the earl of Arran, from
an ancient quarrel between their families, and
from a claim he had to supersede him, both in
the enjoyment of his personal estates and in the
succession to the crown. The regent, alarmed
at such a powerful combination, inclined to at-
tend to some advances made him by the queen-
dowager and cardinal. To refuse to confirm the
treaties, after he had brought them to a conclu-
sion, was, however, a step so repugnant to,pro-
bity, that he could not be prevailed upon to
adopt it. He therefore, in a solemn manner, rati-
fied them in the abbey-church of Holyrood House,
and commanded the p;reat seal of Scotland to be
appended to them. The same day he went to
St. Andrews and issued a mandate to the cardi-
480
SCOTLAND.
nal, requiring him to return to his allegiance.
To this the prelate refused to pay any attention,
or to move from his castle ; upon which the re-
gent denounced him a rebel, and threatened to
compel him to submission by military force.
But, in a few daysafter, the pusillanimous regent,
meeting with Beaton, forsook the interest of
Henry VIII. and embraced that of the queen-
dowaeer and of France. Being in haste also to
reconcile himself to the church of Rome, he re-
nounced publicly, at Stirling, the opinions of the
reformed, and received absolution from the
hands of the cardinal. By this mean-spirited
conduct the regent exposed himself to universal
contempt, while cardinal Beaton usurped the
whole authority. The earl of Lennox, find-
ing that he had no hopes of success in his
suit to the queen-dowager, engaged in nego-
ciations with Henry, to place himself at the
hoad of the Scottish lords who were in the Eng-
lish interest, and to assert the cause of the refor-
mation.
The consequence of all this was a rupture
with England. Henry not only delayed to ratify
the treaties on his part, but ordered all the Scot-
tish ships in the harbour of England to be taken
and confiscated. This violent proceeding in-
rlamed the national disgusts against the English
alliance ; and the party of the cardinal and
/ queen-dowager thus obtained an increase of po-
pularity. Henry himself, however, was so much
accustomed to acts of outrage and violence, that
he seemed to think the step he had taken a matter
of no moment ; and therefore demanded that the
hostages, in tprms of the treaty of marriage,
should still be delivered up to him. But the
cardinal and regent informed his ambassador,
Sir Ralph Sadler, that from their own authority
Ihey could not command any of the nobles to
be committed to him as hostages ; and that the
offensive strain of behaviour assumed by the
English monarch might have altered the senti-
ments of the Scottish parliament with regard to
a measure of such importance. After much
altercation the conferences were broken off: and,
as the lords who were released from captivity
had promised to return prisoners to England, it
now remained with them to fulfil their promise.
None of them, however, had the courage to do
so, excepting the earl of Cassils; and Henry,
being struck with his punctilious sense of honor,
dismissed him loaded with presents. Cardinal
Beaton, being thus in possession of power, took
measures to secure it. The coronation of the
queen was celebrated at Stirling; a council was
chosen to direct and assist the regent in the
greater affairs of state, at the head of which was
the queen-dowager: John Hamilton, abbot of
Paisley, who had acquired an ascendancy over
the regent, was promoted to the privy seal, and
made treasurer of the kingdom ; and cardinal
Beaton, upon the request of the regent and the
three estates, accepted the office of lord high chan-
cellor. After the flatteries and the hopes with
which the earl of Lennox had been amused, the
cardinal had reason to dread the utmost warmth
of his resentment. He had therefore written to
Francis I. giving a detail of the critical situation
of affairs in Scotland, and entreating him to re-
cal to France the earl of Lennox, who was now
interested to oppose the influence and operations
of the queen-dowager. But the indignation
with which the treachery of the cardinal had in-
flamed the earl of Lennox precipitated him into
immediate action, and defeated the intention
of this artifice. In the "hostile situation of
his mind towards Scotland, an opportunity of
commencing hostilities had presented itself.
Five ships had arrived in the Clyde from
France, loaded with warlike stores, and having
on board the patriarch of Venice, Peter Conta-
reni, legate from Paul III., with La Brosse, and
James Mesnaige, ambassadors from France ; and
30,000 crowns, which were to be employed in
strenghthening the French faction, and to be dis-
tributed by the queen-dowager and the cardinal.
Prevailing with the commanders of these vessels,
who conceived him to be the fast friend of their
monarch, he secured this money for his own use,
and deposited the military stores in his castle of
Dumbarton, under the care of George Stirling,
the deputy governor, who at this time was en-
tirely in his interests. By the successful appli-
cation of this wealth the earl of Lennox called
forth the full exertions of his party in levying a
formidable army, witli which he threatened the
destruction of the regent and the cardinal, offer-
ing them battle in the fields between Leith and
Edinburgh. The regent, not being in a condition
to accept the challenge of his rival, had recourse
to negociation. Cardinal Beaton and the earl of
Huntly proposed terms of amity, and exerted
themselves with so much address that the earl
of Lennox, losing the opportunity of chastising
his enemies, consented to an accommodation,
and indulged anew the hope of obtaining the
queen-dowager in marriage. His army was dis-
missed, and he threw himself at the feet of his mis-
tress, by whom he was, in appearance, favorably
received; but many of his friends were seduced
from him under different pretences; and at last,
apprehending his total ruin from some secret en-
terprise, he fled to Glasgow, and fortified himself
in that city. The regent collecting an army
marched against him ; and having defeated his
friend the earl of Glencairn, in a bloody encounter,
was able to reduce the place of strength in
which he confided. In this ebb of his fortune, the
earl of Lennox had no hope but from England.
The revolution produced in the political state of
Scotland by the arts of cardinal Beaton, while it
defeated the intrigues of Henry VIII., pointed
all its strength against the progress of the refor-
mation. After abandoning his old friends, the
regent, in connexion with the cardinal, was am-
bitious to undo all the services he had rendcn d
to them. The three estates annulled the treaties
of amity and marriage, and empowered commis-
sioners to conclude an alliance with France.
The regent discharged the two preachers Guil-
lame and Rough, v%hom he had invited to im-
pugn the doctrines of the church ; and he drove
back into England many pious persons, whose
zeal had brought them to Scotland, to explain
and advance the new opinions. He caressed
with particular respect the legate whom the pope
had sent to discourage the marriage of the young
queen with the prince of Wales, and to promise
his assistance against the enterprises of Henry
VIII. He procured an act of parliament to be
SCOTLAND.
481
passed for the persecution of heretics; and, upon
the foundation of this authority, the most rigorous
proceedings were concerted against the reformed ;
when the arms of England, rousing the appre-
hensions of the nation, gave the fullest employ-
ment to the regent and his counsellors. In the
rage and anguish of disappointed ambition, the
earl of Lennox made an offer to assist the views
of the king of England; who, treating him as an
ally, engaged, in the event of success, to give
him in marriage his niece lady Margaret Douglas,
and to invest him. in the regency of Scotland.
To establish the reformation in Scotland, to ac-
quire the superiority over it to Henry VIII., and
to effectuate the marriage of the prince of Wales
with the queen of Scots, were the great objects
of their confederacy. Henry, though engaged
in a war with France, which required all his mi-
litary force, could not resist the opportunity to
execute his vengeance against Scotland. Edward
Seymour earl of Hartford was appointed to com-
mand 10,000 men, who were embarked at Tin-
mouth, about a fleet of 200 ships, under the
direction of Sir John Dudley, lord Lisle. This
army landed without opposition near Leith,
and the earl of Hertford made it known to Sir
Adam Otterburn, the provost of Edinburgh, that
his commission empowered him to lay the coun-
try waste and desolate, unless the regent should
deliver up the young queen to the king of Eng-
land. It was answered that every extremity of
distress would be endured, before the Scottish na-
tion would submit to so ignominious a demand :
600 horse from Berwick, under lord Evers, now
joined the earl of Hertford. Leith and Edin-
burgh, after a feeble resistance, yielded to the
English commander, who abandoned them to
pillage, and then set fire to them. A cruel de-
vastation ensued in the surrounding villages and
country, and an immense booty was conveyed on
board the English fleet. But, while extreme
terror was every where excited, the earl of Hert-
ford reembarked a part of his troops, and or-
dered the remainder to march with expedition
to the frontiers of England. The regent, assisted
by cardinal Beaton and the earls of Huntly,
Ar_ryle, Bothwel, and Murray, was active, in the
mean time, to collect an army, and to provide
for the security of the kingdom. He felt, there-
fore, the greatest surprise on being relieved so
unexpectedly from the most imminent danger;
and an expedition conducted with so little dis-
cernment did not advance the measures of
Henry VIII. To accomplish the marriage of the
young queen with the prince of Wales, to
possess himself of her person, or to achieve a
conquest over Scotland, were all circumstances
apparently within the reach of the English com-
mander ; and yet, in the moment of victory, he
neglected to prosecute his advantages, and
having inflamed the animosities of the Scottish
nation, by a display of the passions and cruelty
of his master, left them to recover from their
disaster, and to improve their resources. The
earl of Lennox, taking the opportunity of the
English fleet, went to consult with Henry VIII.
upon the desperate state of his affairs. He re-
newed his engagements with this monarch ; and
received in marriage the lady Margaret Douglas,
VOL. XIX.
with possessions in England. Soon after he ar-
rived in the Frith of Clyde, with eighteen ships
and 600 soldiers, that he might secure the castle
of Dumbarton, and employ himself in plunder-
ing and devastation. But George Stirling, to
whom the castle was intrusted, refused to surren-
der it; and even obliged him to re-embark his
troops. After engaging in a few petty incursions
and skirmishes, he returned to England. In
1544 Henry consented to a truce ; and Scotland,
says Dr. Stuart, after having suffered the miseries
of war, was subjected to the horrors of persecu-
tion. The regent had procured an act of par-
liament for the persecution of the reformed ;
and the cardinal, to draw to himself an ad-
ditional splendor and power, had obtained from
the pope the dignity of legate a latere. A visi-
tation of his own diocese appeared to him tin
most proper method of commencing the pro-
posed extirpation of heresy ; and he carried
with him in his train the regent, and many per-
sons of distinction, to assist in his judicatories,
and to share in his disgrace. In the town or'
Perth many persons were accused and con-
demned. The most trifling offences were re-
garded as atrocious crimes, and made the sub-
jects of prosecution and punishment. Robert
Lamb was hanged for affirming that the invoca-
tion of saints had no merit to save. Willia u
Anderson, James Reynold, and James Finlayson,
for having abused an image of St. Francis, In-
putting horns upon his head. James Hunter,
having kept them company, was found to be
equally guilty, and hanged likewise. Helen Stirke,
having refused, when in labor, to invoke the
assistance of the Virgin, was drowned. Many of
the burgesses of Perth, being suspected of heresy,
were sent into banishment ; and the lord Ruthven,
the provost, was upon the same account dismissed
from his office. The cardinal was equally strenu-
ous in persecuting heresy elsewhere. But the
clamor attending the executions of men of inferior
station was now lost in the fame of the martyrdom
of Mr. Wishart ; a person who, while he was
respectable by his birth, was highly eminent
from the opinion entertained of his capacity and
endowments. The historians of the protestant
persuasion have spoken of this reformer in terms
of the highest admiration. They extol his learn-
ing as extensive, insist on the extreme candor
of his disposition, and ascribe to him the ut-
most purity of morals. They even imputed to
him the spirit of prophecy. It may be suf-
ficient to affirm that George Wishart was the
most eminent preacher who had hitherto ap-
peared in Scotland. His mind was cultivated
by reflection and study, and he was amply pos-
sessed of those abilities and qualifications which
excite the passions of the people. His ministry
had been attended with the most flattering suc-
cess ; and his courage to encounter danger grew
with his reputation. The day before he was
apprehended, he said to John Knox, ' I am
weary of the world, since I perceive that men
are weary of God.' He had already reconciled
himself to that terrMe death which awaited him.
He was found in the house of Cockburn of Or-
miston, in East Lothian ; who, refusing to deliver
him to the sen-ants of the regent, the earl of
2 I
482
SCOTLAND.
Bothwel, the sheriff of the county, required that
lie should be entrusted to his care, and promised
liiat no injury should be done to him. But the autho-
rity of the regent and his counsellors obliged the
earl to surrender his charge. He was conveyed to
the cardinal's castle at St. Andrews, and his trial
\v;is hurried on. The cardinal and the clergy,
proceeding in it without the concurrence of the
secular power, adjudged him to be burnt alive*.
In the circumstances of his execution there ap-
pears a deliberate and most barbarous cruelty.
NVhen led out to the stake, he was met by priests,
who, mocking his condition, called upon him to
pray to the virgin, that she might intercede with
her Son for mercy to him. ' Forbear to tempt
me, my brethren,' was his mild reply. A black
coat of linen was put upon him by one execu-
tioner, and bags of powder were fastened to his
body by another. Some pieces of ordnance
were pointed to the place of execution. He
spoke to the spectators, intreating them to re-
member that he was to die for the true gospel of
Christ. Fire was communicated to the faggots.
From a balcony in a tower of his castle, which
was hung with tapestry, the cardinal and the pre-
lates, reclining upon rich cushions, beheld the
inhuman scene. This insolent triumph, more
than all his afflictions, affected the magnanimity
of the sufferer. He exclaimed that the enemy,
who so proudly solaced himself, would perish in
a few days, and be exposed ignominiously in the
place which he now occupied. Cardinal Beaton
took a pleasure in receiving the congratulations
of the clergy upon a deed which it was thought
would fill the enemies of the church with terror.
But the indignation of the people was more ex-
cited than their fears. All ranks of men were
disgusted with an exercise of power which de-
spised every boundary of moderation and justice.
The prediction of Mr. Wishart, suggested by the
general odium which attended the cardinal, was
considered by the disciples of this martyr as the
effusion of a prophet ; and perhaps gave occa-
sion to the assassination that followed. Their
complaints were attended to by Norman Lesley,
the eldest son of the earl of Rothes, whom the
cardinal had treated with indignity, though he
had profited by his services. He consented to
be their leader. The cardinal was in his castle
of St. Andrews, which he was fortifying after
the strongest fashion of that age. The conspira-
tors, at different times, early in the morning en-
tered into it. The gates were secured ; and
appointing a guard, that no intimation of their
proceedings might go to the cardinal, they dis-
missed from the castle all his workmen sepa-
rately, to the number of 100, and all his domes-
tics, who amounted to no fewer than fifty persons.
The eldest son of the earl of Arran, whom he
kept as a hostage for his father's behaviour, was
alone detained by them. The prelate, alarmed
with their noise, looked from his window, and
was informed that his castle was taken by Nor-
man Lesley. It was in vain that he endeavoured
to secure the door of his chamber by bolts and
chests. The conspirators brought fire, and were
ready to apply it, when, admitting them, he im-
plored their mercy. Two of them struck him
nastily with their swords. But James Melvil,
rebuking their passion, told them that this work
and judgment of God, though secret, ought to be
done with gravity. He reminded the cardinal,
in general terms, of the enormity of his sins,
and reproached him in a more particular man-
ner with the death of Mr. Wishart. He swore
that no hopes of his riches, no dread of his
power, and no hatred to his person, were any
motives which actuated him ; but that he was
moved to accomplish his destruction by the ob-
stinacy and zeal manifested by him against
Christ Jesus and his holy gospel. Wailing for
no answer, he. thrust the cardinal three times
through the body with his dagger, on the 29th
of May, 1546. The rumor that the castle was
taken giving an alarm to the inhabitants of St.
Andrew's, they came in crowds lo gratify their
curiosity, and to offer their assistance, according
to the sentiments they entertained. The adhe-
rents and dependents of the cardinal were clamo-
rous to see him ; and the conspirators, carrying
his dead body to the very window from which
he had beheld the sufferings of Mr. Wishart, ex-
posed it to their view.
The truce, in the mean time, which had been
concluded with England was frequently inter-
rupted ; but no memorable battles were fought.
Mutual depredations kept alive the hostile spirit
of the two kingdoms ; and while the regent was
making military preparations, which gave the
promise of important events, a treaty of peace was
finished between England and France, in which
Francis I. took care to comprehend the Scottish
nation. In this treaty it was stipulated by Henry
that he was not to wage war against Scotland,
unless he should be provoked by new and just
causes of hostility. But the murderers of cardi-
nal Beaton, apprehensive of their safety, had de-
spatched messengers into England with ap-
plications to Henry for assistance ; and, be-
ing joined by more than 120 of their friends,
they took the resolution of keeping the castle,
and of defending themselves. Henry, not-
withstanding his treaty with France, resolved to
embrace this opportunity of augmenting the dis-
turbances of Scotland. He hastened to collect
troops ; and the regent and his counsellors
pressed France for supplies in men and money,
and military stores and artillery. The high
places which the cardinal occupied were filled
up immediately upon his death. John Hamil-
ton, abbot of Paisley, was elected archbishop of
St. Andrews, and George earl of Huntly was
promoted to be chancellor. By these officers
the regent was urged to proceed with vigor
against the conspirators ; and it was a matter of
the greatest anxiety to him lo recover his eldest
son, whom they detained in custody. The clergy
had, in the most solemn manner, pronounced them
to be accursed ; and agreed to furnish, for four
months, a monthly subsidy of £3000 to defray
ihe expense of reducing them to obedience.
The queen dowager and the French faction were
eager at the same time, to concur in avenging
the assassination of a man to whose counsels
and services they were so greatly indebted. And,
that no dangerous use might be made of the eldest
son of the earl of Arran, who, after his father,
was the heir of the monarchy, an act of parlia-
ment was passed, excluding him from his birth-
right while he remained in the possession of the
SCOTLAND.
483
enemies of his country, and substituting his bro-
thers in his place, according to their seniority.
The dark politics of Henry suggested the neces-
sity of this expedient; and in its meaning aud
tendency there may be remarked the spirit and
greatness of a free people. A powerful army
laid siege to the castle of St. Andrews, and con-
tinued their operations during four months ; but
no success attended the assailants. The fortifi-
cations were strong ; and a communication with
the besieged was open by sea to the king of Eng-
land, who supplied them with arms and provi-
sions. . The garrison received his pay, and the
principal conspirators had pensions from him.
In return for his generosity, they were engaged
to promote the marriage of his son with the young
queen ; to advance the reformation ; and to keep
in custody the eldest son of the regent. Nego-
tiation succeeded to hostility ; and as the regent
expected assistance from France, and the conspi-
rators had the prospect of support from an Eng-
lish army, both parties were disposed to gain
time. A treaty was entered into, in which the
regent engaged to procure from Rome an abso-
lution to the conspirators, and to obtain to them
from the three estates an exemption from prose-
cutions of every kind. Upon the part of the
besieged, it was stipulated, that, when these con-
ditions were fulfilled, the castle should be sur-
rendered, and the regent's son be delivered up to
him. In the mean time Henry VIII. died ; and
in a few weeks after Francis I. also paid his
debt to nature. But the former, before his death,
had recommended the prosecution of the Scot-
tish war; and Henry II., the successor of Fran-
cis, was eager to show his attention to the ancient
ally of his nation. When the absolution arrived
from Rome, the conspirators refused to consider
it as valid ; and an expression used by the pope,
implying an absurdity, furnished an apology foi
their conduct. They knew that the counsellors
of Edward VI. were making vigorous prepara-
tions to invade Scotland ; they were confident of
their present ability to defend themselves; and
the advocates for the reformation encouraged
them. The latter indeed, in the mean time,
adopted but too many of the* intolerant maxims
of the Roman Catholics, and many of them con-
gratulated the conspirators upon what they called
their godly deed and enterprise. Rough, who
had formerly been chaplain to the regent, en-
tered the castle and joined them. At this time
also John Knox began to distinguish himself in
an eminent manner, both by his success in argu-
ment, and the unbounded freedom of his dis-
course; while the Roman clergy, every where
defeated and ashamed, implored the assistance of
the regent and his council, who assured them
tnat the laws against heretics should be put in
execution.' — Stuart's History. In the mean time
the castle of St. Andrews, being invested by a
fleet of sixteen sail under admiral Strozzi from
France, was obliged to capitulate. Honorable
terms were granted to the conspirators ; but, after
being conveyed to France, they were cruelly
used, from the hatred entertained by the Catho-
lics against" the Protestants. Many were confined
in prisons ; and others, among whom, says Dr.
Stuart, was John Knox, were sent to the galleys.
The castle itself was razed to the ground. The
same year, 1547, Scotland was invaded by an
English army under the duke of Somerset, who
had been chosen protector of England during
the minority of Edward VI. The design of this
invasion was to oblige the Scots to comply with
the scheme of Henry VIII., and conclude a mar-
riage between Edward and the young queen of
Scotland. The English army consisted of 1 3,000
men ; besides which the protector had a fleet of
sixty sail, one-half of which were ships of war,
and the others were vessels laden with provisions
and military stores. On the other hand, the re-
gent opposed him with an army of 40,000. Be-
fore the commencement of hostilities, however,
the duke of Somerset addressed a letter to the
government, in which he pressed the marriage
with such powerful arguments, and so clearly
showed the benefits which would result from it to
both nations, that the regent and his party, who
were averse to peace, thought proper to suppress
it, and to circulate a report that the English had
come to force away the queen, and to reduce the
kingdom to a state of dependence. All hopes of
an accommodation being thus removed, the Eng-
lish army advanced to give battle to the Scots.
They found the latter posted in the most advan-
tageous situation, around the villages of Mussel-
burgh, Inveresk, and Monkton ; so that he could
not force them to an action, at the same time
that he found himself in danger of having his
communication with his ships cut off, which
would have totally deprived his army of the
means of subsistence. In this dangerous si-
tuation he had again recourse to negociation,
and offered terms still more favorable than be-
fore. He now declared himself ready to retire
into England, and to make ample compensation
for the injuries committed by his army, if the
Scottish government would promise that the
queen should not be contracted to a foreign
prince, but should be kept at home till she was
of age to choose a husband for herself, with the
consent of the nobility. These concessions in-
creased the confidence of the regent so much,
that, without taking advantage of the strength of
his situation, he resolved to come to a general
engagement. The protector moved towards
Pinkey, a gentleman's seat, east of Musselburgh ;
and the regent, conceiving that he meant to take
refuge in his fleet, changed the strong ground in
which he was encamped. He commanded his
army to pass the Esk, and to approach the Eng-
lish forces, which were posted on the middle of
Faside Hill. The earl of Angus led on the van ;
the main body marched under the regent ; and
the earl of Huntly commanded in the rear. It
was the regent's intention to seize the top of the
hill. The lord Gray, to defeat this purpose,
charged the earl of Angus, at the head of the
English cavalry. They were received upon the
points of the Scottish spears, which were longer
than the lances of the English horsemen, and
put to flight. Tha earl of Warwick, more
successful with his command of infantry, ad-
vanced to the attack. The ordnance from the
fleet assisted his operations; and a brisk fire
from the English artillery, which was planted on
a rising ground, served still more to iniimifhte
2 1 -2
484
SCOTLAND.
the Scottish soldiery. The remaining troops
under the protector were moving slowly and in
the best order, to take a share in the engage-
ment. The earl of Angus was not well supported
by the regent and the earl of Huntly. A panic
spread through the Scottish army. It fled in
different ways, presenting a scene of the greatest
havoc and confusion. Few perished in the fight ;
but the chase continuing in one direction to
Edinburgh, and in another to Dalkeith, with the
utmost fury, a prodigious slaughter was made.
The loss of the English did not amount to 500
men; but 10,000 soldiers perished on the side
of the Scots. A multitude of prisoners were
taken ; and among these the earl of Huntly, the
lord high chancellor.
Amidst the consternation of this decisive vic-
tory, the duke of Somerset had a full opportu-
nity of effectuating the marriage and union pro-
jected by Henry VIII., and on the subject of
which such fond anxiety was entertained by the
English nation. But, the cabals of his enemies
threatening his destruction at home, he yielded
to the necessities of his ambition, and marched
back into England. He took precautions, how-
ever, to secure an entry into Scotland, both by
sea and land. A garrison of 200 men was placed
in the isle of St. Kolumba in the Forth, and two
ships of war were left as a guard to it. A gar-
rison was also stationed in the castle of Broughty,
)n the mouth of the Tay. When he passed
through the Merse and Teviotdale, the leading
men of these counties repaired to him ; and,
taking an oath of allegiance to king Edward,
surrendered their places of strength. Some of
these he demolished, and to others he added
new fortifications. Hume castle was garrisoned
with 200 men, and entrusted to Sir Edward
Dudley ; and he posted 300 soldiers, with 200
pioneers, in the castle of Roxburgh, under Sir
Ralph Bulmer. The only resource of the regent
now was the hope of assistance from France.
The young queen was lodged in the castle of
Dumbarton, under the care of the lords Erskine
and Livingstone ; and ambassadors were sent to
Henry II. of France, acquainting him with the
disaster at Pinkey, and imploring his assistance.
The regent had asked permission from the pro-
tector to treat of peace, and the earl of Warwick
was appointed to wait for them at Berwick ; but
none were ever sent on the part of Scotland.
Hostilities were soon recommenced by the Eng-
lish. Lord Gray led an army into Scotland,
fortified the town of Haddington, took the castles
of Yester and Dalkeith, laid waste the Merse
and the counties of East and Mid-Lothian. On
the other hand, in June, 1548, M. De Desse, a
French officer of great reputation, landed at
Leith with 6000 soldiers, and a formidable train
of artillery. In the mean time the regent was in
disgrace on account of the disaster at Pinkey ;
and the queen-dowager, to supersede his autho-
rity, improved this circumstance to her own ad-
vantage. As her power and interest could best
be supported by France, she resolved to enter
into the strictest alliance with that kingdom. It
had been proposed that the dauphin of France
should marry the queen of Scotland ; and this
proposal now met with many partisans, the hos-
tilities of the English having lost a great number
of friends to the cause of that country. 1 1 was
resolved to send the queen immediately to
France, which would remove the cause of the
present contentions, and her subsequent marriage
with the dauphin would in the fullest manner
confirm the friendship betwixt the two nations.
The French government also entered deeply into
the scheme : and, to promote it, made presents
of great value to many of the Scottish nobility.
The regent himself was gained over by a pension
of 12,000 livres, and the title of duke of Chatel-
herault. M. de Yilleg-agnoni, who commanded
four galleys in the harbour of Leith, making a
feint as if he intended to proceed instantly to
France, tacked about to the north, and, sailing
round the isles, received the queen at Dumbar-
ton ; whence he conveyed her to France, and
delivered her to her uncles, the princes of Lor-
raine, in July, 1548. The siege of Haddington
had been undertaken as soon as the French
auxiliaries arrived, and was now conducted with
vigor. To reinforce the garrison 1500 horse
advanced from Berwick; but, an ambuscade
being laid for them, they were almost totally
destroyed. Another body of English troops,
however, which amounted only to 300 persons,
was more successful. Eluding the vigilance of
the Scots and the French, they entered Had-
dington. and supplied the besieged with ammu-
nition and provisions. Lord Seymour, high
admiral of England, made a descent upon Fife
with 1 200 men and some pieces of artillery ;
but was driven back to his ships with great
slaughter by James Stuart, natural brother to
the young queen, who opposed him at the head
of the county militia. A second descent was
made by him at Montrose ; but, being equally
unsuccessful there, he left Scotland without
performing any important achievement. Having
collected an army of 17,000 men, and adding
to it 3000 German Protestants, the protector put
it under the direction of the earl of Shrewsbury.
Upon the approach of the English, Desse, though
he had been reinforced with 1 5,000 Scots, thought
it more prudent to retreat than to hazard a deci-
sive battle. He raided the siege of Haddington,
and marched to Edinburgh. The earl of Shrews-
bury did not follow him to force an engagement :
jealousies had arisen between the Scots and the
French. The insolence and vanity of the latter,
encouraged by their superior skill in military
arts, had offended the quick and impatient spirit
of the former. The fretfulness of the Scots was
augmented by the calamities inseparable from
war; and, after the conveyance of the young
queen to France, the peculiar advantage con-
ferred upon that kingdom by this transaction
was fully understood, and appeared highly dis-
graceful and impolitic. In this state of their
humor Desse found not at Edinburgh the re-
ception he expected. The quartering of his sol-
diers produced disputes, which ended in an
insurrection of the inhabitants. The French
fired among the citizens. Several persons of
distinction fell, and among these were the pro-
vost of Edinburgh and his son. The national
discontents and inquietudes were driven, by this
event, to the most dangerous extremity ; and
SCOTLAND.
485
Desse, who was a man of ability, thought of
giving employment to his troops, and of flatter-
ing the people by the splendor of some martial
exploit. The earl of Shrewsbury, after supply-
ing Haddington with troops, provisions, and mi-
litary stores, retired with his army into England.
Its garrison was in the enjoyment of security,
and unsuspicious of danger. Marching in the
night, Desse reached this important post; and,
destroying a fort of observation, prepared to
storm the main gates of the city, when the garri-
son took the alarm. A French deserter pointing
a double cannon to the thickest ranks of the
assailants, the shot was incredibly destructive,
and threw them into confusion. In the height of
their consternation, a vigorous sally was made
by the besieged. Desse renewed the assault in
the morning, and was again discomfited. He
now turned his arms against Broughty castle;
and, though unable to reduce it, yet recovered
the neighbouring town of Dundee, which had
fallen into the possession of the enemy. Hume
castle was retaken by stratagem. Desse entered
Jedburgh, and put its garrison to the sword;
ravaged the English borders in different incur-
sions, and obtained several petty victories. Leith,
which from a small village had grown into a
town, was fortified by him ; and the island of
Inchkeith, nearly opposite to the harbour, being
occupied by English troops, he made them priso-
ners, after a brisk encounter. His activity and
valor could not, however, compose the discontents
of the Scots ; and, the queen -dowager having writ-
ten to Henry II. to recall him, he was succeeded
in his command by M. de Thermes, who was
accompanied into Scotland by Monluc bishop
of Valence, a person highly esteemed for his
address and ability. This ecclesiastic was de-
signed to supply the loss of cardinal Beaton,
and to discharge the office of lord high chancellor
of Scotland. But the jealousies of the nation
increasing, and the queen-dowager herself sus-
pecting his ambition and turbulence, he soon re-
turned home. De Thermes brought with him
from France a reinforcement of 1000 foot, 2000
horse, and 100 men at arms. He erected a fort
at Aberlady, to distress the garrison of Hadding-
ton, and to intercept its supplies. At Colding-
ham he destroyed a troop of Spaniards in the
English pay. Fast castle was regained by sur-
prise. Distractions in the English court did not
permit the protector to act vigorously in the
war. The earl of Warwick was diverted from
marching an army into Scotland. An infectious
distemper had broke out in the garrison at Had-
dington ; and it could not hold out for any time
against the Scots. The earl of Rutland, there-
fore, with a body of troops, entered the town ;
and, after setting fire to it, conducted the garrison
and artillery to Berwick. The regent was soli-
citous to recover the other places still in the
power of the English. De Thermes laid siege
to Broughty castle, and took it. He then be-
sieged Lauder ; and the garrison was about to
surrender at discretion, when the news arrived
that a peace was concluded between France,
England, and Scotland. By this treaty Henry II.
obtained the restitution of Boulogne and its de-
pendencies, which had been taken from him by
the king of England, and far which he paid
400,000 crowns. No opposition was to be given
to the marriage of the queen of Scotland with
the dauphin : the fortresses of Lauder and
Douglas were to be restored to the Scots, and
the English were to destroy the castles of Rox-
burgh and Eymouth. After the ratifications of
the articles, the queen-dowager embarked with
Leon Stozzi for France, attended by many of the
nobility. Having arrived there, she communi-
cated to the king her design of assuming the
government of Scotland, and he promised to
assist her. But the jealousy which prevailed
between the Scots and French rendered the ac-
complishment of this design very difficult. To
remove the regent by an act of power might en-
danger the scheme altogether; but it might be
Kssible to persuade him to resign his office,
ir this purpose intrigues were immediately
commenced ; indeed the regent himself contri-
buted to promote their schemes by his violent
persecution of the reformed. The peace was
hardly proclaimed, when he provoked the public
resentment by an action of sanguinary insolence.
Adam Wallace, a man of simple manners, but
of gfeat zeal for the reformation, was accused of
heresy, and brought to trial in the church of the
Black Friars at Edinburgh. In the presence of
the regent, the earl of Angus, Huntly, Glen-
cairn, and other persons of distinction and rank,
he was charged with preaching without any au-
thority of law, with baptizing one of his own
children, and with denying the doctrine of pur-
gatory ; and it was strenuously objected to him
that he accounted prayers to the saints and the
dead to be a useless superstition ; that he had
pronounced the mass to bean idolatrous service;
and that he had affirmed that the bread and wine
in the sacrament of the altar, after the words of
the consecration, do not change their nature, but
continue to be bread and wine. These offences
were esteemed too terrible to admit of any par-
don.— The earl of Glencairn alone protested
against his punishment. The pious sufferer bore
with resignation the contumelious insults of the
clergy ; and by his courage and patience at the
stake recommended the opinions he had em-
braced. Other acts of atrocity and violence
stained the administration of the regent. In his
own palace, William Crichton, a man of family
and reputation, was assassinated by lord Semple.
No attempt was made to punish the murderer.
His daughter was the concubine of the arch-
bishop of St. Andrews, and her tears and en-
treaties were more powerful than justice. John
Melvil, a person respectable by his birth and his
fortune, had written to an English gentleman, re-
commending to his care a friend who was then a
captive in England. This letter contained no
improper information in matters of state ; and
no suspicion of any crime against Melvil could
be inferred from it. Yet the regent brought him
to trial upon a charge of high treason ; and, for
an act of humanity and friendship, he was con-
demned to lose his head. The estate of Melvil,
forfeited to his family, was given to David, the
youngest son of the regent.
Amidst the amusements of the French court,
the queen-dowager was not inattentive to the
486
SCOTLAND.
scheme of ambition which she had projected.
The earls of Huntly and Sutherland, Marischal
and Cassils, with lord Maxwell, and other per-
sons of eminence who had accompanied her to
France, were gained over to her interests. Ro-
bert Carnegie of Kinnaird, David Panter, bi-
shop of Ross, and Gavin Hamilton, commendator
of Kilwinning, being also at this time in that
kingdom, and having the greatest weight with the
regent, were treated with a most punctilious re-
spect. Henry declared to them his earnest wish
that the queen-dowager might attain the govern-
ment of Scotland. In case the regent should
consent to this measure, he expressed a firm in-
tention that no detriment should happen to his
consequence and affairs; and he desired them
to inform him that he had already confirmed his
title of duke of Chatelherault, had advanced his
son to be captain of the Scots gendarmes in
France, and was ready to tender other marks of
favor to his family. With this message, Mr.
Carnegie was sent to Scotland ; and a few days
after he was followed by the bishop of Ross.
The bishop, being a man of eloquence and autho-
rity, obtained a promise from the regent to re-
sign; and for this service he received, as a
recompense, an abbey in Poitou. The queen-
dowager, full of hopes, now prepared to return
to Scotland, and in her way thither made use of
a safe-conduct obtained from Edward VI. by the
king of France. The English monarch, however,
had not yet forgot the beautiful queen of Scotland ;
and did not fail to urge his superiority of claim
to her over the dauphin. The queen-dowager
did not seriously enter upon the business: only
in general terms complained of the hostilities
committed by the English ; and two days after
this conversation she proceeded towards Scot-
land, where she was conducted by the earl of
Both well, lord Hume, and some other noble-
men, to Edinburgh, amidst the acclamations of
the people. She had not long been returned
to the capital, when the bad conduct of the
regent afforded her an opportunity of exerting
her influence. The regent, having proposed
a judicial circuit through the kingdom, under
pretence of repressing crimes and disorders, mo-
lested the people by plunder and rapine. Great
fines were levied for offences pretended as well
as real ; and the protestants in particular were
the objects of his severity. In his progress he
was accompanied by the queen dowager ; and,
as she affected to behave in a manner directly
opposite, the most disagreeable comparisons were
made between her and the regent. The bishop
of Ross did not fail to put him in mind of his
promise, but he wished still to continue in
power. His resolution, however, failed him, on
the intimation of a parliamentary enquiry into
his administration. An agreement with the queen
dowager then took place ; and it was stipulated
that he should succeed to the throne upon the
death of the queen without issue ; that nis son
should enjoy the command of the gendarmes ;
that no enquiry should be made into the expen-
diture of the royal treasures ; that no scrutiny
into his government should take place; and that
he should enjoy in the most ample manner his
duchy and his pension. These articles were ra-
tified at an assembly of parliament, and the
queen-dowager was formally invested with the
regency.
Mary of Lorraine, the new regent, though she
had with great difficulty attained the summit of
her wishes, seemed to be much less conversant
in the arts of government than in those of intrigue.
She was scarcely settled in her new office when
she rendered herself unpopular by her too great
attachment to France, and by her persecution of
the Protestants. She was entirely guided by the
counsels of her brothers, the duke of Guise and
the cardinal of Lorrain ; and paid a devoted at-
tention to those of M. d'Oysel the French am-
bassador. Several high offices were filled with
Frenchmen, which excited the highest resent-
ment of the Scottish nobility; and the com-
monalty were instantly prejudiced against her
by the partiality she showed to the Papists. At
first, however, she enacted many salutary laws ;
and, while she made a progress herself through
the southern provinces of the kingdom to hold
justiciary courts, she endeavoured to introduce
order and law into the western counties and
isles : first by the earl of Huntly, and afterwards
by the earls of Arcyle and Athol, to whom she
granted commissions for this purpose. In an-
other improvement, which the queen-regent at-
tempted by the advice of her French council,
she found herself opposed by her own people.
It was proposed that the possessions of every
proprietor of land in the kingdom should be
valued and entered into registers ; and that a
proportional payment should be made by each.
The application of this fund was to maintain a
regular and standing body of soldiers. This
guard or army, it was urged, being at all times
in readiness to march against an enemy, would
protect effectually the frontiers; and there would
no longer be any necessity for the nobles to be
continually in motion on every rumor of hosti-
lity or incursion from English invaders. No
art, however, or argument could recommend
these measures. A perpetual tax and a standing
army were conceived to be the genuine charac-
teristics of despotism. All ranks of men consi-
dered themselves insulted and abused ; and 300
tenants of the crown assembling at Edinburgh,
and giving way to their indignation, sent their
remonstrances to the queen-regent in such strong
and impressive language as induced her to aban-
don the scheme. Yet still the attempt which
she had made left an impression in the minds of
the people. They suspected her to be a secret
enemy to their government and liberties ; and
they were convinced that Henry II. was engag-
ing her in artifices that he might reduce Scot-
land to be a province of France. While an
alarm about their civil rights was spreading
among the people, the Protestants were rising
daily in their spirit and in their hopes. John
Knox, whose courage had been confirmed by
misfortunes, and whose talents had improved by
exercise, w?s at this time making a progress
through Scotland. The characteristic peculiari-
ties of Popery were the favorite topics of his de-
clamation and censure. He treated the mass, in
particular, with the most sovereign contempt,
representing it as a remnant of idolatry. Many
SCOTLAND.
487
of the nobility and gentry afforded him counte-
nance and protection. They invited him to
preach at their houses, and partook with him in
the ordinances of religion after the reformed
method. Religious societies and assemblies
were held publicly in defiance of the Papists;
and celebrated preachers were courted with assi-
duity to officiate in particular districts and
towns. The clergy cited him to appear before
them at Edinburgh, in the church of the Black-
friars. On the appointed day he presented him-
self, with a numerous attendance of gentlemen,
who were determined to exert themselves in his
behalf. The priesthood did not choose to pro-
ceed in his prosecution ; and Knox, encouraged
by this symptom of their tear, took the resolu-
tion to explain and inculcate his doctrines re-
peatedly and openly in the capital. In 1556 the
earl of Glencairn took the earl Marischal to hear
the exhortations of this celebrated preacher ; and
they were so much affected with his reasonings
and rhetoric that they requested him to address
the queen-regent upon the subject of the refor-
mation of religion. In compliance with this re-
quest, he wrote a letter in terms more forcible
than pleasing, and the earl of Glencairn delivered
it with his own hand, in the expectation that some
advantage might be obtained for the reformed.
But the queen-regent was no less offended with
the freedom of the nobleman than of the preacher ;
and, after perusing the paper, she gave it to
James Beaton, archbishop of Glasgow, with an ex-
pression of disdain : ' Here, my lord, is a pas-
quil.' Amidst these occupations Knox received
an invitation to take the charge of the English
congregation at Geneva ; which he accepted. The
clergy called upon him, in his absence, to appear
before them, condemned him to death as a
heretic, and ordered him to be burned in effigy.
This injurious treatment did not in the least ob-
struct the progress of the reformation. Deser-
tions were made from popery in every town and
village ; and even many members of the church,
both secular and regular, were forward to em-
brace the new principles, and to atone for their
past mistakes by the bitterest railleries against
the corruptions and folly of the Romish faitn.
The priests were treated in all places with ridi-
cule and contempt. The images, crucifixes, and
relics, which served to rouse the decaying fer-
vors of superstition, were stolen from the
churches, and trampled under foot. The bishops
implored the assistance of the queen regent.
Citations were given to the preachers to appear
in their defence. They obeyed ; but with such
a formidable retinue that it was with difficulty
she was permitted to apologise for her conduct.
James Chalmers of Gaitgirth, pressing forward
from the crowd, addressed himself to her : ' We
vow to God that the devices of the prelates shall
not be carried into execution. We are oppressed
to maintain them in their idleness. They seek
to undo and murder our preachers and us ; and
we are determined to submit no longer to this
wickedness.' The multitude, applauding this
speech, put their hands to their daggers. A
trusty messenger was despatched to Geneva, in-
viting John Knox to return to his own country;
but, upon further consideration, by opposite de-
spatches, Knox was requested to delay his jour-
ney for some time. To this zealous reformer
their unsteadiness was a matter of serious afflic-
tion; and, in the answer, he rebuked them with
severity, but entreated them not to faint under
their purposes, from apprehensions of danger.
To particular persons he wrote other addresses :
and to all of them the greatest attention was paid,
In 1557 a formal bond of agreement, which ob-
tained the appellation of the first covenant, was
entered into, and all the more eminent persons
who favored the reformation were invited to
subscribe it. The earls of Argyle, Glencairn,
and Morton, with the lord Lorn, and John Ers-
kine of Dun, led the way by subscribing it.
AH the subscribers to this deed, renouncing the
superstitions and idolatry of the Church of Rome,
promised to apply continually their whole power
and wealth, and even to give up their lives, to
forward and establish the word of God. They
distinguished the reformed by calling them the
Congregation of Christ ; and, by the opprobrious
title of the Congregation of Satan, they peculiar-
ised the favorers of Popery. After the leaders
of the reformation had subscribed the first cove-
nant they addressed letters to Knox, urging in
the strongest terms his return to Scotland ; and,
that their hopes of his assistance might not be
disappointed, they sent another address to Cal-
vin, the celebrated reformer, begging him lo join
his commands to their entreaties. The arch-
bishop of St. Andrews, who perceived the rising
storm, was in a difficult situation. A powerful
combination threatened ruin to the church ; and
he had separated himself from the politics of the
queen-regent. The zeal of the Roman Catholics
pointed out strong measures to him; and his
dispositions were pacific. The clergy were of-
fended with his remissness. The reformers de-
tested his loose principles, fand were shocked
with the depravity of his life. He tried the
force of address and did not succeed. He then
resolved to be severe, and was still more unsuc-
cessful. The earl of Argyle was the most power-
ful of the reformers. To allure him from his
party the archbishop of St. Andrews employed
Sir David Hamilton. But the kindness he af-
fected, and the advices he bestowed, were no
compliment to this nobleman ; and his threats
were despised. The reformers, instead of losing
their courage, felt a sentiment of exultation and
triumph; and the earl of Argyle dying about
this time he not only maintained the new doc-
trines in his last moments, but entreated his son
to promote the public preaching of the gospel,
and the utter ruin of superstition and idolatry.
At length the archbishop and the prelates resolved
on a furious persecution of the reformed. Walter
Mill, a priest, having been long under the sus-
picion of heresy, was carried to St. Andrews,
committed to prison, and accused before the
archbishop and his suffragans. He was in an
extreme old age ; and had struggled all his life
with poverty. He sunk not, however, under the
hardness of his fate. To the articles of his accu-
sation he replied with signal recollection and
fortitude. The firmness of his mind, in the ema-
ciated state of his body, excited admiration ; and
the insults of his enemies, and their contempt
488
SCOTLAND.
served to discover his superiority over them.
When the clergy declared him a here'.ic no tem-
poral judge could be found to condemn him to
the fire. He was respited to another day ; and
such great sympathy prevailed for his misfor-
tunes that it was necessary to allure one of the
archbishop's domestics to supply the place of the
civil power, and to pronounce the sentence of
condemnation. When brought to the stake lie
praised God that he had been called to seal the
truth with his life; and he conjured the peo-
ple, as they would escape eternal death, not to
be overcome by the errors and the artifices of
monks and priests, abbots and bishops. The
barbarity of this execution affected the reformers
with inexpressible horror. Subscriptions for
mutual defence were taken. The leaders of the
reformation, dispersing their emissaries to every
quarter, encouraged the vehemence of the multi-
tude. The covenant to establish a new form of
religion extended far and wide. When the
leaders of the reformation were apprised of the
ardent zeal of the people, and considered the
great number of subscriptions which had been
collected in the different counties of the kingdom,
they assembled to deliberate concerning the steps
to be pursued. It was resolved that a public
supplication of the whole body of the Protestants
should be presented to the queen-regent ; which,
after complaining of the injuries they had suf-
fered, should require her to bestow upon them
her support and assistance, and urge her to pro-
ceed in the work of a reformation. To explain
their full meaning, a schedule, containing parti-
cular demands, was to be presented to her scru-
tiny. To Sir James Sandilands of Calder they
committed the important charge of their mani-
festo and articles of reformation. His character
was in the highest estimation ; his services to his
country were numerous ; his integrity and honor
were superior to all suspicion ; and his age and
experience gave him authority and reverence.
The petition of the Protestants was expressed in
strong but respectful terms. They told the
queen regent that, ' though they had been pro-
voked by great injuries, they had yet, during a
long period, abstained from assembling them-
selves, and from making known to her their com-
plaints. Banishment, confiscation of goods, and
dwrth in its most cruel shape, were evils with
which the reformed had been afflicted ; and they
were still exposed to these dreadful calamities.
Compelled by their sufferings they presumed to
ask a remedy against the tyranny of the prelates
and the estate ecclesiastical. They had usurped
an unlimited dominion over the minds of men.
Whatever they commanded, though without any
sanction from the word of God, must be obeyed.
Whatever they prohibited, though from their
own authority only, it was necessary to avoid.
All arguments and remonstrances were equally
fruitless and vain. The fire, the faggot, and the
sword, were the weapons with which the church
enforced and vindicated her mandates. By these,
• •f late years, many of their brethren had fallen ;
and, upon this account, they were troubled and
wounded in their consciences. For, conceiving
ii!i:mse!ves to be a part of that power which God
had established in this kingdom, it was their
duty to have defended them, or to have concur-
red with them in an open avowal of their com-
mon religion. They now take the opportunity
to make this avowal. They break a silence
which may be misinterpreted into a justification
of the cruelties of their enemies ; and, disdaining
all farther dissimulation in matters which con-
cern the glory of God, their present happiness,
and their future salvation, they demand that the
original purity of the Christian religion shall be
restored, and that the government shall be so
improved as to afford to them a security in their
persons, their opinions, and their property.'
With this petition of the Protestants Sir James
Sandilands presented their schedule of demands,
or the preliminary articles of the reformation.
They were in the spirit of their supplication,
and of the following tenor: — ' I. It shall be law-
ful to the reformed to peruse the Scriptures in
the vulgar tongue ; and to employ also their na-
tive language in prayer publicly and in private.
II. It shall be permitted to any person qualified
by knowledge to interpret and explain the dif-
ficult passages in the Scriptures. III. The elec-
tion of ministers shall take place according to
the rules of the primitive church ; and those who
elect shall enquire diligently into the lives and
doctrines of the persons whom they admit to the
clerical office. IV. The holy sacrament of bap-
tism shall be celebrated in the vulgar tongue,
that its institution and nature may be the more
generally understood. V. The holy sacrament
of the Lord's Supper shall likewise be adminis-
tered in the vulgar tongue ; and in this commu-
nion, as well as in the ceremonial of baptism,
a becoming respect shall be paid to the plain
institution of Christ Jesus. VI. The wicked and
licentious lives of the bishops and estate ecclesi-
astical shall be reformed ; and, if they discharge
not the duties of true and faithful pastors, they
shall be compelled to desist from iheir ministry
and functions.'
The queen-regent now found it necessary to
flatter the Protestants. She assured them by Sir
James Sandilands, their orator or commissioner,
that every thing they could legally desire should
be granted to them ; and that, in the mean tune,
they might, without molestation, employ the vul-
gar tongue in their prayers and religious exer-
cises. But, upon the pretence that no encourage-
ment might be given to tumults and riot, she
requested that they would hold no public assem-
blies in Edinburgh or Leith. The Congregation,
for this name was now assumed by the Protes-
tants, were transported with these proofs of her
regard ; and, while they sought to advance still
higher in her esteem by the inoffensive quietness
of their carriage, they were encouraged in the
undertaking they had begun. Nor to the clergy,
who at this time were holding a provincial coun-
cil at Edinburgh, did the Congregation scruple
to communicate the articles of the intended re-
formation. The latter received their demands
v*ith a storm of rage, which died away, however,
in innocent debility. 1'pon recovering from
their passions, they offered to submit the con-
troversy between them and the reformed to a
public disputation. The Congregation did not
refuse this mode of trial : and desired, as their
SCOTLAND.
489
o'lly conditions, that the Scriptures might be
considered as the standards of orthodoxy and
:mtb, and that those of their brethren who were
in exile and under persecution might be permit-
ted to assist them. These reasonable requests
were not, however, complied with ; and the
church would allow no rule of right but the
canon law and its own councils. Terms of re-
conciliation were then offered on the part of the
estate ecclesiastical. It held out to the Pro-
testants the liberty of praying and administering
the sacraments in the vulgar tongue, if they would
nay reverence to the mass, acknowledge purgatory,
invoke the saints, and admit of petitions for the
dead. To conditions so ineffectual and absurd
the Congregation did not deign to return any an-
swer. The meeting of the parliament approached.
The parties in contention were agitated with
anxieties, apprehensions, and hopes. An expec-
tation of firm and open assistance from the queen-
regent gave courage to the reformed; and, from
the parliamentary influence of their friends in
the greater and the lesser baronage, they ex-
pected the most important services. They drew
up with eagerness the articles which they wished
to be passed into a law ; and, as the spirit and sense
of their transactions are to be gathered in the
completes! manner from the papers which were
framed by themselves, it is proper to attend to
them. Their petitions were few and explicit. I.
They could not, in consequence of principles
which they had embraced from a conviction of
their truth, participate in the Romish religion. It
was therefore their desire that all the acts of
parliament giving authority to the church to pro-
ceed against them as heretics should be abro-
gated ; or at least that their power should be
suspended till the disputes which had arisen
were determined and brought to a conclusion.
II. They did not mean that all men should be
at liberty to profess what religion they pleased,
without the control of authority. They consent-
ed that all transgressors in matters of faith should
be carried before the temporal judge. But it
was their wish that the clergy should have only
the power to accuse ; and they thought it con-
formable to justice that a copy of the criminal
charge should be lodged with the party upon
trial, and that a competent time should be al-
lowed him to defend himself. III. They insisted
that every defence consistent with law should
be permitted to the party accused; and that
objections to witnesses, founded in truth and
reason, should operate to his favor. IV. They
desired that the party accused should have per-
mission to interpret and explain his own opi-
nions ; and that his declaration should carry a
greater evidence than the deposition of any wit-
ness ; as no person ought to be punished for
religion, who is not obstinate in a wicked or
damnable tenet. V. In fine they urged that no
Protestant should be condemned for heresy,
without being convicted by the word of God, of
the want of that faith which is necessary to sal-
vation. The congregation presented these arti-
cles to the queen-regent, expecting that she
would not only propose them to the three estates
assembled in parliament, but employ all her in-
fluence to recommend them. But, finding them-
selves disappointed, they began to suspect her
sincerity ; and they were sensible that their peti-
tions, though they should be carried in parlia-
ment, could not pass into a law without her
consent. They therefore abstained from present-
ing them : but, as their complaints and desires
were fully known in parliament, they ordered a
solemn declaration to be read there in their be-
half, and demanded that it should be inserted in
the public records. In this declaration, after
expressing their regret for having been disap-
pointed in their scheme of reformation, they pro-
tested that no blame should be imputed to them
for continuing in their religion, which they be-
lieved to be founded in the word of God ; that
no danger of life, and no political pains, should
be incurred by them, for disregarding statutes
which support idolatry, and for violating rites
which are of human invention ; and that, if in-
surrections and tumults should disturb the realm,
from the diversity of religious opinions, and if
abuses should be corrected by violence, all the
guilt, disorder, and inconvenience thence arising,
instead of being applied to them, sho d be as-
cribed solely to those who had refused a timely
redress of wrongs, and who had despised peti-
tions presented with the humility of faithful
subjects, and for the purposes of establishing the
commandments of God, and a most just and sa-
lutary reformation. The three estates received
this protest with attention and respect ; but the
intention of inserting it in the national records
was abandoned by the congregation upon a for-
mal promise from the queen-regent that all the
matters in controversy should speedily be
brought by her to a fortunate issue. While the
protestants were thus making the most vigorous
exertions in behalf of their spiritual liberties,
the queen-regent, to establish herself the more
effectually, used every effort to promote the
marriage of her daughter with the dauphin of
France. In 1557 commissioners were appointed
to negociate this marriage ; but, while these ne-
gociations were going on, the court of France
acted in the most perfidious manner. At the
age of fifteen, after solemnly ratifying the inde-
pendency of Scotland, and the succession of the
crown in the house of Hamilton, queen Mary
was influenced by the king and her uncles, the
princes of Lorrain, to sign privately three extra-
ordinary deeds or instruments. By the first she
conveyed the kingdom of Scotland to the king
of France and his heirs, in the default of chil-
dren of her own body. By the second she as-
signed him, if he should die without children,
the possession of Scotland, till he should receive
a million of pieces of gold, or be amply re-
compensed for the sums expended by him in the
education of the queen of Scotland in France.
By the third she confirmed both these grants in
an express declaration that they contained the
pure and genuine sentiments of her mind ; and
that any papers which might be obtained, either
before or after her marriage, by means of the
Scottish parliament, should be invalid, and of no
force nor efficacy. On the 24th of April the
nuptials were celebrated with uncommon pomp ;
and the dauphin Francis was allowed to assume
the title of king of Scotland.
490
SCOTLAND.
The French court demanded for the dauphin
the crown and other ensigns of royalty belong-
ing to Scotland ; but the commissioners had no
power to comply with the request. It was then
desired that, when they returned home, they
should use all their influence to procure the
crown matrimonial of Scotland for the dauphin.
This also was refused ; the court of France was
disgusted; and four of the commissioners died,
it was supposed of poison, given them by the
princes of Lorrain. This subject, however, was
pressed, on the return of the surviving commis-
sioners, by the king of France himself, the queen
of Scotland, and the queen-regent. The Pro-
testants also joined their interest, hoping thereby
to gain over the queen and queen-regent to their
party; so that an act of parliament was at length
passed, by which the crown matrimonial was
given to the dauphin during the time of his mar-
riage with queen Mary; but without any preju-
dice to the liberties of the kingdom, to the heirs
of her body, or to the order of succession. With
so many restraints it is difficult to see the advan-
tages which could accrue from this gift so ear-
nestly sought after ; and it is very probable that
the usurpations of France in consequence of it
would have been productive of many disturb-
ances ; but these were prevented by the death of
Francis II., in December 1560. But before this
event took place, Scotland was, by the intrigues
of France, involved in confusion on another ac-
count. After the death of Mary I. queen of Eng-
land, and daughter to Henry VrIII., the princes
of* Guise insisted on the claim of Mary queen of
Scots to the crown of England, in preference to
that of Elizabeth, whom they looked upon as
illegitimate. This claim was supported by the
king of France, who prevailed with the queen of
Scots herself to assume the title of queen of
England, and to stamp money under that cha-
racter. The arms of England were quartered
with those of France and Scotland ; and em-
ployed as ornaments for the plate and furniture
of Mary and the dauphin. Thus was laid the
foundation of an irreconcileable quarrel between
Elizabeth and Mary ; and to this we may ascribe
the inveteracy with which the former persecuted
the unhappy queen of Scotland every time she
had it in her power. But, while they imprudently
excited a quarrel with England, they yet more
imprudently quarrelled also with the majority of
the people of Scotland. As Elizabeth professed
the Protestant religion, it was easily foreseen
that the congregation, or body of the reformed
in Scotland, would never consent to act against
her in favor of a popish power; and, as they
could not be gained, it was resolved to destroy
them at once by putting to death all their leaders.
The queen regent gave intimation of her design
to re-establish popjry by proclaiming a solemn
observance of Easter, receiving the sacrament
according to the Romish communion herself,
and commanding all her household to receive
it in the same manner. She next expressed her-
self in a contemptuous manner against the re-
formed, affirmed that they had insulted the royal
dignity, and declared her intention of restoring
it to its ancient lustre. The preachers of the con-
gregation were next cited to appear at Stirling to
answer the charges which might be brought
against them. Alexander earl of Glencaira, and
Sir Hugh Campbell of Louden, were deputed to
admonish her not to persecute the preachers un-
less they had been obnoxious, by circulating
erroneous doctrines, or disturbing the peace of
government. The queen-regent, in a passion,
told them that the preachers should be all ba-
nished Scotland though their doctrines were as
sound as those of St. Paul. The deputies urged
her former kind behaviour and promises; but
the queen-regent answered that ' the promises
of princes ought not to be exacted with rigor,
and that they were binding only when subservient
to their conveniency and pleasure.' To this they
replied that in such a case they could not look
upon her as their sovereign, and must renounce
their allegiance as subjects. Soon after this
transaction the queen-regent received the news
that the reformation was established in Perth.
Lord Ruthven, the provost of the city, was sum-
moned to answer for this innovation ; but his
reply was that he had no dominion over the
minds and consciences of men. The provost of
Dundee, being ordered to apprehend an eminent
preacher, named Paul Methven, sent him intel-
ligence of the order that he might provide for
his safety. The proclamation for observing
Easter was every where despised and neglected,
and people exclaimed against the mass as an
idol New citations, in the mean time, had been
given to the preachers to appear at Stirling. They
obeyed the summons ; but attended by such mul-
titudes that the queen-regent, dreading their
power, though they were without arms, intreated
Mr. Erskine of Dun, whom they had sent before
as a deputy, to stop their march ; assuring him
that all proceedings against the preachers should
be stopped. In consequence of this the multitude
dismissed ; yet, when the day came on which
the preachers should have appeared, the queen-
regent, with unparalleled folly as well as
treachery, caused them to be declared traitors,
and proclaimed it criminal to afford them any
subsistence. Mr. Erskine, exasperated by this
shameful conduct, hastened to the congregation,
apologised for his conduct, and urged them to
proceed to the last extremities. At this critical
period also John Knox, returning from Geneva,
joined the Congregation at Perth, and pointed
all the thunder of his eloquence against idolatry.
A priest, in contempt of this reformer's rhetoric,
prepared immediately after his sermon to say
mass; and, opening a case which stood upon the
altar, displayed the images of the saints. The
great provocations which the Protestants had re-
ceived, joined to the impious passions of the
multitude thus excited, were now productive of
the greatest disorders. Images were destroyed,
monasteries pulled down, and their wealth either
seized by the mob or given to the poor. The
celebrated monasteries of the Gray and Black
Friars, with that of the Carthusians, were attacked
and demolished. The example of Perth was
followed by Cupar in Fife ; and, similar insur-
rections being apprehended in other places, the
queen-regent determined to punish the inhabi-
tants of Perth in the most exemplary manner.
But the gentlemen of Fife, Angus, and Mearns
SCOTLAND.
49
assembling their friends and dependents, formed
a camp near Perth. The earl of Glencairn, with
admirable celerity, advanced from Ayrshire with
2500 men. The queen-dowager also collected
an army, but, being opposed by such a formida-
ble power by the Protestants, she thought proper
to conclude an agreement. The Protestants,
however, dreaded her insincerity ; and therefore
entered into a second covenant to stand by and
defend one another. Their fears were not vain.
The queen-regent violated the treaty almost as
soon as made, and began to treat the Protestants
with severity. The earl of Argyle, and the prior
of St. Andrew's, who about this time began to
take the title of lord James Stuart, now openly
headed the Protestant party, and prepared to
collect their whole strength. The queen-regent
opposed them with what forces she had, and
which indeed chiefly consisted of her French
auxiliaries ; but, being again afraid of coming to
an engagement, she consented to a truce until
commissioners should be sent to treat with the
lords of an effectual peace. No commissioners,
however, were sent oa her part ; and the nobles,
provoked by such complicated and unceasing
treachery, resolved to push matters to the utmost
extremity. The first exploit of the reformed was
the taking of the town of Perth, where the queen-
regent had placed a French garrison. The mul-
titude, elated with this achievement, destroyed
the palace and abbey of Scone, in spite of all the
endeavours of their leaders, and even of Knox
himself to save them. The queen-regent, ap-
prehensive that the congregation would commit
farther ravages to the southward, resolved to
throw a garrison into Stirling; but the earl of
Argyle and lord James Stuart anticipated her
design, and arrived there the very day after the
demolition of the abbey and palace of Scone.
The people, incapable of restraint, and provoked
beyond measure by the perfidious behaviour of
the Catholic parly, demolished all the monas-
teries in the neighbourhood, together with the
fine abbey of Cambuskenneth, situated on the
bank of the Forth. From Stirling they went to
Linlithgow, where they committed their usual
ravages upon every thing that they reckoned
relics of idolatry; after which they advanced to
Edinburgh : the queen-regent, alarmed at their
approach, fled to Dunbar; and the Protestants
took up their residence in Edinburgh.
The congregation, having thus got possession
of the capital, assumed to themselves the ruling
power of the kingdom, appointing preachers in
all the churches, and seized the mint, with all
the instruments of coinage. The queen-regent,
unable to dispute the matter in the field, pub-
lished a manifesto, in which she set forth their
seditious behaviour, commanding them to leave
Edinburgh within six hours, and enjoining her
subjects to avoid their society under the pain of
treason. The congregation having already lost
somewhat of their popularity, by their violent
proceedings, were now incapable of coping with
government. As they had not established them-
selves in any regular body, or provided a fund
for their support, they felt their strength decay,
and multitudes of them returned to their habita-
tions. Those who remained found themselves
obliged to vindicate their conduct; and, in an
address to the regent, to disclaim all treasonable
intentions. Negociations again took place,
which ended abortively, and the queen-regent,
who had taker, this opportunity of collecting her
forces, marched against the congregation on the
23d of July, 1559. At length the Protestants,
finding themselves incapable of making head
against their enemies, entered into a negociation,
by which all differences were for the present ac-
commodated. The terms of this treaty were,
that the town of Edinburgh should be open to the
queen-dowage"r and her attendants ; that the pa-
lace of Holyrood House and the mint should be
del'ivered up to her ; that the Protestants should
be subject to the laws, and abstain from molest-
ing the Roman Catholics in the exercise of their
religion. On the queen's part, it was agreed,
that the Protestants should have the free exercise
of taeir religion, and that no foreign troops
should entei the city of Edinburgh. Notwith-
standing this treaty, the reformed had no confi-
dence in the queen's sincerity. Having heard
of the death of Henry IT. of France, and the ac-
cession of Francis II. and Mary to that kingdom,
they seem to have dreaded more danger than
ever. They now entered into a third covenant;
in which they engaged to refuse attendance to
the queen-dowager, in case of any message or
letter ; and that, immediately on the receipt of
any notice from her to any of their number, it
should be communicated without reserve, and
be made a common subject of scrutiny and de-
liberation. It was not long before they had
occasion for all their constancy and strength.
The queen-regent repented of the favorable terms
she had granted the reformed; and, being denied
the favor which she requested of saying mass in
the High church of Edinburgh, she ordered them
to be every where disturbed in the exercise of
their religion. In this imprudent measure, the
quevn-regent was confirmed by letters which
now came from Francis and Mary, promising a
powerful army to support her. The envoy who
brought these despatches also carried letters to
lord James Stuart, now the principal leader of
the Protestants, and natural brother to the queen.
These letters were filled with reproaches and
menaces, mixed with entreaties; and along with
them the envoy delivered a verbal message, that
the king fas master was resolved rather to ex-
pend all the treasures of France than not to be
reve-ged on the rebellious nobles who had dis-
turbed the peace of Scotland. Lord James
Stu:-i was not tooe frightened by these menaces,
lie returned a cool and deliberate answer, apo-
logising for the Protestants, and vindicating them
from the charge of rebellion ; but at the same
time intimating his full resolution of continuing
to head the reformed, as he had already done.
The letters of Francis and Mary were soon fol-
lowed by 1000 French soldiers, with money and
military stores ; and the commander was imme-
diately despatched again to France, to solicit the
assistance of as many more soldiers, with four
ships of war, and 100 men at arms. But, before
he could set out, La Bosse, another French
commander, arrived with 2000 infantry; and,
that the congregation might be defeated not only
492
S C O T L A N D.
by arms but in disputation, the same ship brought
three doctors of the Sorbonne, to show the per-
nicious tendency of the new doctrines. Thus
matters were pushed beyond all hopes of recon-
ciliation. The nation was universally alarmed
on account of the introduction of French troops,
to which they saw no end: the queen-regent at-
tempted to quiet the minds of the public by a
proclamation ; but their fears increased the more.
The congregation assembled at Stirling, where
they were joined by the earl of Arran, and soon
after by his father the duke of Chatelherault.
They now deliberated on the measures to be
followed with the queen-regent; and the result
of their consultations was, that an expostulatory
letter should be addressed to her. This was
accordingly done; but, as the queen behaved
with her usual duplicity, the nobles called the
people to arms: mutual manifestoes were pub-
lished ; and both parties prepared to decide the
contest by the sword. The congregation having
seized Broughty castle, marched thence to Edin-
burgh. The queen-regent retired to Leith, which
she had fortified and filled with French troops.
Thither the nobles sent their last message to her,
charging her with a design to overthrow the li-
berties of the kingdom. They requested her to
command her Frenchmen and mercenaries to
depart from Leith, and to make that place open
and patent, not only to the inhabitants who had
been dispossessed of their houses, but to all the
inhabitants of Scotland. They declared that her
denial of this request should be considered by
them as a proof of her intention to reduce the
kingdom to slavery ; in which case they were
determined to employ their utmost power to pre-
serve its independency. Two days after this
message the queen-regent sent to them the lord
Lyon, whom she enjoined to tell them that she
considered their demand not only as presumptu-
ous, but as an encroachment on the royal autho-
rity; that it was an indignity to her to be dicta-
ted to by subjects ; that Frenchmen were not to
be treated as foreigners, being entitled to the
same privileges with Scotchmen ; and that she
would neither disband her troops, nor command
the town of Leith to be made open and patent.
The lord Lyon then, in the name of the queen-
regent, commanded the lords of the congregation
to depart from Edinburgh and disperse them-
selves under the pain of high treason. The
Protestants irritated by this answer, after some
deliberation, degraded the queen-regent ; and
to this purpose the nobility, barons, and bur-
gesses, all agreed in subscribing an edict, which
was sent to the principal cities in Scotland and
published in them.
The next step taken by the 'congregation was
to summon Leith to surrender; but, meeting with
defiance instead of submission, it was resolved
to take the town by scalade. For this service
ladders were framed in the church of St. Giles ;
a business which, interrupting the preachers in
the exercise of pubjic worship, made them prog-
nosticate misfortune and miscarriage to the con-
gregation. In the displeasure of the preachers
the common people found a source of complaint ;
and the emissaries of the queen-dowager acting
with indefatigable industry to divide her adver-
saries, and spread chagrin and dissatisfaction
among them, discontent, animosity, and terror,,
prevailed to a great degree. The duke of Clu-
telherault discouraged many by his example.
Defection from the Protestants added strength to
the queen-dowager. The most secret deliberations
of the confederated lords were revealed to her.
The soldiery were clamorous for pay ; and it was
very difficult to procure money to satisfy their
claims. Attempts to soothe and appease them,
discovering their consequence, engendered muti-
nies. They put to death a domestic of the earl
of Argyle, who endeavoured to compose them to
order; they insulted several persons of rank who
discovered a solicitude to pacify them ; and they
even ventured to declare that, for a proper re-
ward, they were ready to suppress the reforma-
tion, and to re-establish the mass. It was abso-
lutely necessary to give satisfaction to the Pro-
testant soldiers. The lords and gentlemen of
the congregation collected a considerable sum
among them ; but it was not equal to the exi-
gency. The avarice of many withheld what they
could afford, and the poverty of others did not
permit them to indulge their generosity. It was
resolved that each nobleman should surrender
his silver plate to be struck into money. By the
address, however, of the queen-dowager, the
officers of the mint were bribed to conceal, or
to convey to a distance, the stamps and instru-
ments of coinage. A gloomy despair gave dis-
quiet to the congregation, and. threatened their
ruin. Queen Elizabeth, with whose ministers
the confederated lords maintained a correspon-
dence at this time, had frequently promised them
her assistance ; but they could not now wait the
event of a deputation to the court of England.
In an extremity so pressing they therefore ap-
plied for a sum of money to Sir Ralph Sadler
and Sir James Croft, the governors of Berwick;
and Cockburn of Ormiston, who was entrust-
ed with this commission, obtained from them
an aid of 4000 crowns. Traitors, however,
in the councils of the congregation, having
informed the queen-dowager of his errand and
expedition, the earl of Bothwel, by her order,
intercepted him upon his return, discomfited his
retinue, and made a prize of the English subsidy.
To rouse the spirit of the party, an attack was
projected upon Leith, and some pieces of artil-
lery were planted against it ; but, before any
charge could be made, the French soldiers sallied
out to give battle to the troops of the congrega-
tion, possessed themselves of their cannon, and
drove them back to Edinburgh. A report that
the victors had entered the city with the fugitives
filled it with disorder and dismay. The earl of
Argyle and his Highlanders hastened to recover
the honor of the day, and harassed the French in
their retreat. This petty conflict, while it elated
the queen-dowager, served to augment the
despondence of the Protestants. Vain of their
prowess, the French made a new sally from
Leith, to intercept a supply of provisions and
stores for the congregation. The earl of Arran
and lord James Stuart attacked them, and obliged
them to retire ; but, pursuing them with too
much heat, a fresh body of French troops made
its appearance. It was prudent to retreat, but
SCOTLAND.
493
difficult. An obstinate resistance was made.
It was the object of the French to cut oft' the
soldiery of the congregation from Edinburgh,
and by these means to divide the strength of that
station. The earl of Arran and lord James Stuart
had occasion for all their address and courage.
Though they were able, however, to effect their
escape, their loss was considerable, and the victory
was manifestly on'the side of their adversaries.
About this time William Maitland of Lethington,
secretary to the queen-dowager, withdrew secretly
from Leith, and joined himself to the confede-
rated nobles. He had been disgusted with the
jealousies of the French counsellors, and was
exposed to danger from having embraced the
doctrines of the reformed. His reception was
cordial, and corresponded to the opinion enter-
tained of his wisdom and experience. He was
skilled in business, adorned with literature, and
accustomed to reflection ; but it was not knbwn
that he wanted integrity. The accession of this
statesman to their party could not console the
lords of the congregation for the unpromising
aspect of their affairs. Those who affected pru-
dence retired privately from a cause which they
accounted desperate, and the timorous fled with
precipitation. The distrust of the brethren was
infectious; and excited the ridicule and scorn of
the partisans of the queen-dowager. In this dis-
tress the associated nobles resolved to abandon
the capital. A little after midnight they retired
from Edinburgh ; and so great was the panic
that they marched to Stirling without any stop.
John Knox, who had accompanied the congre-
gation to Stirling, anxious to restore their unani-
mity and courage, addressed them from the
pulpit. He represented their misfortunes as the
consequences of their sins ; and, entreating them
to remember the goodness of their cause, assured
them in the end of joy, honor, and victory. His
popular eloquence, corresponding to all their
warmest wishes, diffused satisfaction and cheer-
fulness. They passed from despair to hope. A
council was held, in which the confederated no-
bles determined to solicit, by a formal embassy,
the aid of queen Elizabeth. Maitland of Le-
tliington and Robert Melvil were chosen to
negociate this important transaction ; and they
received the fullest instructions concerning the
state and difficulties of the congregation, the
tyrannical designs of the queen-dowager, and the
danger which threatened England from the union
of Scotland with France. The queen of England
determined to assist the reformers; whose leaders
now dispersed themselves, and went to different
parts of the kingdom to exert their activity for
the common cause. The queen-dow'ager, ima-
gining that the lords were fled, conceived great
hopes of being able to crush the reformed at
once. Her sanguine hopes, however, were soon
checked on hearing that queen Elizabeth was
resolved to assist them. She now determined to
crush her enemies before they could receive any
assistance from England. Her French troops
took the road to Stirling, and wasted in their
march all the grounds which belonged to the
favorites of the reformation. After renewing
their depredations at Stirling they passed the
bridge; and, proceeding along the side of the
river, exercised their cruelties in a district which
had distinguished itself by an ardent zeal against
popery. , While the terror of their arms was thus
diffusing itself, they resolved to seize the town
and castle of St. Andrews, which they considered
as an important military station, and as a conve-
nient place of reception for the auxiliaries they
expected from France. But lord James Stuart
employed himself to interrupt their progress and
retard their attempts ; and, to keep the force of
the Congregation entire, he hazarded no action
of importance. A small advantage was obtained
by the French at Petticur ; and they took King-
horn. Lord James Stuart, with 500 horse and
100 foot, entered Dysart. With this inconsider-
able strength he proposed to act against an army
of 4000 men. His admirable skill in military affairs
and his heroic courage were eminently displayed.
During twenty days he prevented the inarch of
the French to St. Andrews, intercepting their
provisions, harassing them with skirmishes, and
intimidating them by the address and boldness
of his stratagems. M. d'Oysel, enragad and
ashamed to be disconcerted by a body of men
so disproportioned to his army, exerted himself
with vigor. Lord James Stuart was obliged to
retire. Dysart and Wemys were given to the
French troops to be pillaged ; and, when d'Oysel
was in full march to St. Andrews, he discovered
a powerful fleet bearing up the Frith. It was con-
cluded that the supplies expected from France
were arrived. Guns were fired by his soldiers,
and their joy was indulged in all its extravagance.
But this fleet having taken the vessels which
contained their provisions, and the ordnance
with which they intended to improve the fortifi-
cations of the castle at St. Andrews, a period
was put to their rejoicings. Certain news was
brought that the fleet they observed was the navy
of England, which had come to support the con-
gregation. A consternation, heightened by the
giddiness of their preceding transports, invaded
them. M. d'Oysel perceived now the value and
merit of the service which had been performed
by lord James Stuart ; and, thinking no more of
St. Andrews and conquest, fled to Stirling, in his
way to Leith, from which he dreaded to be inter-
cepted : — he reached that important station after
a march of three days. A formal treaty was now
concluded between the lords of the Congregation
and queen Elizabeth.
In the mean time the queen dowager was dis-
appointed in her expectations from France. The
violent administration of the house of Guise had
involved that nation in troubles and distresses.
Its credit was greatly sunk, and its treasury wns
near exhausted. Persecutions, and the spirit
of reaction, produced commotions and con-
spiracies ; and, amidst domestic and dangerous
intrigues and struggles, Scotland failed to engage
that particular distinction which had been pro-
mised to its affairs. It was not, however, ne-
glected altogether. The count de Martigues had
arrived at Leith with 1000 foot and a few horse.
The marquis D'Elbeuf had embarked for it wiih
another body of soldiers; but, after losing several
ships in a furious tempest, was obliged to return
to the haven from which he had sailed. In this
sad reverse of fortune many forsook the queen-
494
SCO T L A X D.
dowager. It was now understood that the Eng-
•ish army was upon its march to Scotland. The
Scottish lords who had preserved a neutrality,
meditated a union with the Protestants. The
earl of Huntly gave a solemn assurance that he
would join them. Proclamations were issued
throughout the kingdom, calling upon the sub-
jects of Scotland to assemble in arms at Linlith-
gow, to re-establish their ancient freedom, and
to assist in the utter expulsion of the French
soldiery. The English fleet, meanwhile, under
Winter the vice-admiral, had taken and destroyed
several ships, had landed some troops upon Inch-
keith, and discomfited a body of French merce-
naries. Upon these acts of hostility, the princes
of Lorrain despatched the chevalier de Seure to
queen Elizabeth, to make representations against
this breach of the peace, and to urge the recall
of her ships. This ambassador affected likewise
to negociate concerning the evacuation of Scot-
land by the French troops, and to propose
methods by which the king of France might quar-
ter the arms of England without prejudice to
queen Elizabeth. But to prevent the execution
of vigorous resolutions against the queen-
dowager, and to gain time, were the only objects
he had in view. With similar intentions Mouluc,
bishop of Valence, a man of greater address and
ability, and equally devoted to the house of
Guise, was also sent at this time to the court of
England. Queen Elizabeth, however, and her
ministers, were too wise to be amused by artifice
and dexterity. Lord Grey entered Scotland
with an army of 1200 horse and 6000 foot ; and
lord Scroop, Sir James Croft, Sir Henry Percy,
and Sir Francis Lake commmanded under him.
By an inhuman policy, the queen-dowager had
already wasted all the country around the capi-
tal. But the desolation she had made, while it
was ruinous to the Scottish peasants, affected not
the army of England. The leaders of the con-
gregation had provided against this difficulty.
The duke of Chatelherault, the earls of Argyle,
Glencairn, and Monteith, the lord James Stuart,
and the lords Ruthven, Boyd, and Ochiltree,
with a numerous and formidable force, joined the
English commander at Preston. Struck with
the sad condition of her affairs, despairing of a
timely and proper succor from France, and re-
minded by sickness of her mortality, the queen-
dowager retired from Leith to the castle of Edin-
burgh, and put herself under the protection of
lord Erskine. At the period when she was
appointed to the regency lord Erskine had
received from the three estates the charge of this
important fortress, with the injunction to hold it
till he should know their farther orders ; and,
giving way to the solicitations of neither faction,
he had kept it with fidelity. By admitting the
queen-dowager, he yielded to sentiments of
honor and humanity, and yet did not depart from
his duty. A few only of her domestics accom-
panied her, with the archbishop of St. Andrews,
the bishop of Dunkeld, and the earl Marischal,
The confederated nobles now assembled at Dal-
keith to hold a council ; and, conforming to
those maxims of prudence and equity which,
upon the eve of hostilities, had been formerly
exercised by them, they invited the queen-
dowager to an amicable conclusion of the present
troubles. In a letter which they wrote to her
they called to her remembrance the frequent
manifestoes and messages in which they had
pressed her to dismiss the French soldiery, who
had so long oppressed the lower ranks of the
people, and who threatened to reduce the king-
dom itself to servitude. The aversion, however,
with which she had constantly received their
suit and prayers was so great that they had
given way to a strong necessity, and had intreated
the assistance of the queen of England to expel
these strangers by force of arms. But, though
they had obtained the powerful protection of this
princess, they were yet animated with a becom-
ing respect for the mother of their sovereign ;
and, abhorring to stain the ground with Chris-
tian blood, were disposed once more to solicit
the dismission of these mercenaries, with their
officers and captains: and, that no just objection
might remain against the grant of this their last
request, they assured her that a safe passage by
land, to the ports of England, should be allowed
to the French ; or that, if they judged it more
agreeable, the navy of queen Elizabeth should
transport them to their own country. If these
proposals should be rejected, they appealed and
protested to God and to mankind, that no motive
of malice, or hatred, or wickedness of any kind,
had induced them to employ the fatal expedient
of arms ; but that they had been compelled to
this distressful remedy, for the preservation of
their commonwealth, religion, persons, estates,
and posterity. They begged her to waigh the
equity of their petitions, to consider the incon-
veniences of war, and to think on the rest and
quiet which were necessary to relieve the afflic-
tions of her daughter's kingdom ; and they be-
sought her to embalm her own memory, by an
immortal deed of wisdom, humanity, and jus-
tice. To give authority and weight to the letter
of the associated lords, lord Grey directed Sir
George Howard and Sir James Croft to wait
upon the queen-dowager, and to stipulate the
peaceable departure of the English troops, upon
the condition that the French mercenaries were
immediately dismissed from her service, and pro-
hibited from residing in Scotland. Returning no
direct answer to the applications made to her,
she desired time to deliberate upon the resolu-
tion which it became her to adopt. This equi-
vocal behaviour corresponded with the spirit of
intrigue which had uniformly distinguished the
queen-dowager ; and it is probable that her en-
gagements with France did not permit her to be
explicit. The combined armies marched towards
Leith. A body of the French, posted upon a
rising ground, called Hawk Hill, disputed their
progress. During five hours the conflict was
maintained with obstinate valor. At length the
Scottish horsemen charged the French with a
fury which they were unable to resist. They
fled to Leith with precipitation ; and might
have been cut off from it altogether, if the
English cavalry had exerted themselves : 300
French soldiers perished in this action, and a
few only on the side of the congregation. Leith
SCOTLAND.
495
was invested. The pavilions and tents of the
English and Scottish nobility were planted at
llestalrig, arid around it. Trenches were cast ;
and, the ordnance from the town annoying the
combined armies, a mount was raised, upon
which eight cannons were erected. A continued
fire from these, against St. Anthony's tower in
South Leith, being kept up and managed with
skill, the walls of this fabric were shaken, and
the French found it necessary to dismount their
artillery. Negligent from security, and appre-
hensive of no attack, the English and Scottish
officers occupied themselves in amusements, and
permitted a relaxation of military discipline.
The French, informed of this levity, made a sally
from Leith. While some of the captains were
diverting themselves at Edinburgh, and the
soldiery were engaged at dice and cards, they
entered the trenches unobserved, and, pushing
their advantage, put 600 men to the sword. After
this slaughter, the Protestants were more atten-
tive to their affairs. Mounts were built at proper
distances, which, being fortified with ordnance,
served as places of retreat and defence in the
event of sudden incursions ; and thus they con-
tinued the blockade in a more effectual man-
ner. The army under the marquis D'Elbeuf,
promised so often to the queen-regent, was in
vain expected by her; but she received, at this
time, supplies in money and military stores ; and
Monluc, bishop of Valence, though defeated in
dexterity by Elizabeth and her ministers, had
arrived in Scotland to try anew the arts of nego-
tiation. Conferences were held by him with the
queen-dowager, with the English commanders,
and with the confederated nobles ; but no agree-
ment could be concluded. His credentials nei-
ther extended to the demolition of Leith, nor to
the recall of the French mercenaries : and, though
he obtained powers from his court to consent to
the former of these measures, they were yet
burdened with conditions which were disgraceful
to the congregation ; who, in the present pros-
perous state of their fortunes, were not disposed
to give up any of the objects for which they had
struggled so long, and to the attainment of
which they now looked forward with a settled
hope. Though the orations of Monluc could
not overpower the stubborn sense of the congre-
gation, yet as he affected to give them admoni-
tions and warnings, and even ventured to insult
them with menaces, they appear to have con-
ceived a high indignation against him. Under
this impulse, and that, in so advanced a stage of
their affairs, they might exhibit the determined
firmness of their resolutions, and bind to them
by an indissoluble tie the earl of Huntly and
the other persons who had joined them in conse-
quence of the English alliance, they entered into
a new league and covenant, more solemn, expres-
sive, and resolute, than any which they had yet
subscribed. The nobles, barons, and inferior
persons, v'io were parties to this bond, bound
themselves in the presence of Almighty God, as
a society, and as individuals, to advance and set
forward the reformation of religion, and to pro-
cure, by every possible means, the true preaching;
of the Gospel, with the proper administration of
the sacraments and other ordinances. Deeply
affected, at the same time, with the misconduct
of the French statesmen, who had been promoted
to high offices ; with the oppressions of the
French mercenaries, whom the queen-dowager
kept up and maintained under the color of au-
thority ; with the tyranny of their captains; and
with the manifest danger of conquest to which
the country was exposed, by different fortifica-
tions upon the sea-coast, and by other dangerous
innovations ; they promised and engaged, gene-
rally and individually, to join with the English
army, and to concur in an honest, plain, and un-
reserved resolution to expel all foreigners from
the realm, as oppressors of public liberty ; that,
by recovering the ancient rights, privileges, and
freedom of their nation, they might live for the
future under the due obedience of their king and
queen, be ruled by the laws and customs of the
country, and by officers and statesmen born and
educated among them. It was likewise contracted
and agreed by the subscribers to this bond and
covenant that no private intelligence by writing
or message, or communication of any kind, should
be kept up with their adversaries. When the
strong and fervid sentiments of this new associa-
tion were communicated to the queen-dowager,
she resigned herself to sorrow. Her mind, in-
clined to despondence by the increase of her
malady, felt the more intensely the cruel distrac-
tions into which the kingdom had been driven
by the ambition of France, her own dealing
affection for the princes of Lorrain, and the vain
prognostications of flatterers. In the agony of
passion she is said to have invoked the curse of
God to alight upon all those who had counselled
her to persecute the preachers, and to refuse the
petitions of the most honorable portion of her sub-
jects. In the mean time the siege of Leith was pro-
secuted. But, the strength of the garrison amount-
ing to more than 4000 soldiers, the operations of
the besiegers were languid. An accidental fire in
the town, which destroyed many houses and a
great part of the public granary, afforded them
an opportunity of plying their artillery with some
advantage; and a few days after they made n
general assault. But the scaling-ladders which
were applied to the walls being too short, and
Sir James Croft, who had been gained to the
queen-dowager, having acted a treacherous part,
the attempt failed of success, and 1000 men were
destroyed. The combined armies, however, did
not lose their hopes. The English and Scots
animated the constancy of one another ; and in
the ratification of the treaty of Berwick, which
was now made, a new source of cordiality opened
itself. Letters also had come from the duke of
Norfolk, promising a powerful reinforcement,
giving the expectation of his taking upon him
the command of the troops in person, and order-
ing his pavilion to be erected in the camp. Leith
began to feel the misery of famine, and the
French to give themselves to despair. The be-
siegers abounded in resources ; and the arrival
of 2000 men, the expected reinforcement from
England, gave them the most decisive superiority
over their adversaries. Frequent sallies were
made by the garrison, and they were always un-
successful. Discouraged by defeats, depressed
with the want of provisions, and languishing
496
SCOTLAND.
under the negligence of France, they were ready
to submit to the mercy of the congregation.
Amidst these distresses the queeri-dowasrfr,
wasted with a lingering distemper and with grief,
expired in the castle of Edinburgh. A few days
before her death she invited to her the duke of
Chatelherault, lord James Stuart, and the earls
of Argyle, Glencairn,and Marischal, to bid them
a last adieu. She expressed to them her sorrow
for the troubles of Scotland, and made it her
earnest suit that they would consult their consti-
tutional liberties, by dismissing the French and
English from their country ; and that they would
preserve a dutiful obedience to the queen their
sovereign. She professed an unlimited forgive-
ness of all the injuries which had been done to
her ; and she entreated their pardon for the
offences committed against them. In token of
her kindness and charity she then embraced
them by turns, while the tears started to her
eyes. After this interview, the short remaining
portion of her life was dedicated to religion ; and
she flattered the congregation by calling John
Willocks, one of the most popular of their
preachers, to assist and comfort her by his exhor-
tations. He made long discourses to her about
the abominations of the mass ; but she appears
to have died in the communion of the Roman
church ; and her body, being transported to
France, was deposited in the monastery of St.
Peter, at Rheims, in Champagne, where her sister
Renee was abbess.
The death of the queen-dowager, at a period
so critical, broke altogether the spirit of the
French troops. They were blocked up so com-
pletely that it was almost impossible for any sup-
plies to reach them either by sea or land ; and
France had delayed so long to fulfil its magnifi-
cent promises that it was no longer in a capacity
to take any steps towards their accomplishment.
Its internal distress and disquiets were multi-
plying. The nobility, impoverished by wars,
were courting the rewards of service, and strug-
gling in hostility : the clergy were avaricious,
ignorant, and vindictive. The populace, knowing
no trade but arms, offered their swords to the
insurgents. Francis II. the husband of Mary, was
without dignity or understanding. Catherine
de Medicis his mother was full of artifice and
falsehood : insurrections were dreaded in every
province. The house of Guise was encompassed
with difficulties and trembling with apprehen-
sions, so that they could not think of persisting
in their views of distant conquests. It was
chiefly in the exemption from foreign wars that
they could hope to support their own greatness,
and apply a remedy to the domestic disturbances
of France. It appeared to Francis and Mary
that they could not treat in a direct method with
the congregation, whom they affected to consider
as rebellious subjects, without derogating from
their dignity ; in neprociating for a peace, there-
fore, they addressed themselves to queen Eliza-
beth. They granted a commission to John Mon-
luc, bishop of Valence, Nicholas Relieve bishop
of Amiens, James de la Brpsse, Henry Clentin
lord of Oysel, and Charles de la Rochefaucault
lord of Randan ; authorising them to enter into
agreements with the queen of England. The
English commissioners were Sir William Cecil
principal secretary of state, Nicholas Wotton
dean of Canterbury and York, Sir Ralph Sadler,
Sir Henry Percy, and Sir Peter Crew ; and the
powers of treaty were to be exercised by them
all in conjunction, or by four, three, or two of
them. The plenipotentiaries of France, though
empowered only to treat with England, were yet,
by a separate commission, entrusted also to
assure the congregation that, notwithstanding the
heinous guilt incurred by them, Francis and
Mary were inclined to receive them into favor
upon their repentance and return to obedience;
and to abstain for ever from all enquiry into
their conduct. They had full authority, at the
same time, by this new deed, to hear, in conjunc-
tion with the commissioners of Elizabeuh, their
complaints, and to grant, with their consent, the
relief which appeared most proper and salutary.
The nobility and people of Scotland, choosing for
their representatives lord James Stuart, lord
Ruthven, and Maitland of Lethington, expressed
their willingness to concur in reasonable mea-
sures for the re-establishment of the public union
and tranquillity, while, by a formal petition, they
enumerated their grievances, claimed a redress
of them, and asked a uniform protection to their
constitution and laws. To this petition the in-
tercession of queen Elizabeth effected the friendly
atteution of Francis and Mary ; and upon the
foundation thus concerted Monluc and Randan,
Cecil and Wotton, the acting plenipotentiaries
of England and France, drew up and authenti-
cated the celebrated Deed of Relief and Con-
cession, which does so much honor to l*ne spirit,
perseverance, and magnanimity of the Scottish
nation. By this agreement Francis and Mary con-
sented that no French soldiers or foreign troops
should ever be introduced into Scotland with-
out the council and the advice of the three estates.
They concurred in the opinion that the French
mercenaries should be sent back into France,
and that the fortifications of Leith should be de-
molished; they agreed that commissioners should
be appointed to visit Dunbar, and to point out
the works there which ought to be destroyed :
and they bound themselves to build no new for-
tress or place of strength within the kingdom,
and to repair no old one without parliamentary
authority. They consented to extinguish all
debts which had been contracted for the mainte-
nance of the French and Scottish soldiery ; ap-
pointed the estates of the realm to hold a par-
liament for the discussion of affairs of state;
and obliged themselves to consider the acts of
this assembly as valid and effectual. They con-
firmed the ancient law of the country, which
prohibited the princes of Scotland from making
peace or war without the advice of the three
estates. It was agreed by them that the three
estates, in concurrence with the queen, should
elect a council for the administration of affairs
during her majesty's absence. They became bound
to employ the natives of Scotland in the manage-
ment of justice both civil and criminal, in the
offices of chancellor, keeperof the seals, treasurer,
comptroller, and in other similar stations; and
to abstain from the promotion of all foreigners
to places of trust and honor, and from investing
SCOTLAND.
497
any clergyman in the charge of affairs of the
revenue. They further determined to publish
an act of oblivion, and to bury for ever the me-
mory of all the late transactions. They concluded
that a general peace and reconciliation should
take place among all parties. And they referred
the reparation which might be proper to compen-
sate the injuries that had been sustained by
bishops and ecclesiastics to the judgment of the
three estates. Upon the subject of reformation,
the plenipotentiaries of England and France did
not choose to deliberate and deride, although
articles with regard to it had been presented to
them by the nobles and people. They referred
this delicate topic to the ensuing meeting of the
parliament ; and the leaders of the congregation
engaged that deputies from the three estates
should repair to the king and queen, to know
their intention concerning matters of such high
importance. After having granted these conces-
sions to the nobility and people of Scotland upon
the part of their respective courts, Monluc and
Randan, Cecil and Wotton, concluded another
deed of treaty and agreement. By this it was de-
termined that the English and French troops
should depart out of Scotland ; that all warlike
preparations should cease ; that the fort of Ey-
mouth should be razed, in terms of the treaty of
Cambray ; that Francis and Mary should abstain
from bearing the title and arms of England or
Ireland'; that it should be considered whether a
further compensation should be made to Eliza-
beth for the injuries committed against her; and
that the king and queen of Scots should be fully
and sincerely reconciled to the nobility and the
people of their kingdom. The interests of Eng-
land and France were the particular objects of
this agreement. But, though the concessions to
the Protestants were not inserted in it at full
length, an express reference was made to them;
and they received a confirmation in terms which
could not be misunderstood. This deed recorded
the clemency of Francis and Mary to their sub-
jects of Scotland, the extreme willingness of the
nobility and people to return to their duty and
allegiance, the representation they had offered of
their grievance and the request of queen Eliza-
beth that redress should be afforded to them ;
and it appealed to the consequent concessions
which had been stipulated to their advantage.
By these important negociations the Protestants,
while they humbled France, flattered queen Eli-
zabeth ; and, while they acquired a power to act
ii the establishment of the reformation, restored
its civil constitution to Scotland. The exclusion
v»f foreigners from offices of state, the limitation
*f the Scottish princes with regard to peace and
war, the advancement of the three estates to their
ancient consequence, and the act of oblivion of
all offences, were acquisitions most extensively
great and useful; and, while they gave the fullest
security to tlie reformed, gratified their most san-
guine expectations.
The peace, so fortunately concluded, was im-
mediately proclaimed. The French mercenaries
embarked for their own country, and the English
fcrmy took the road to Berwick. Amidst events
so joyful, the preachers exhorted the confederated
nobles to command the solemnity of a thanks-
VOL. XIX.
giving. It was ordered accordingly ; and, after
its celebration, the commissioners of the boroughs,
with several of the nobility, and the tenants in
capite, were appointed to choose ministers to
preach the gospel in the principal towns through-
out the kingdom. John Knox was called to
discharge the pastoral functions at Edinburgh,
Christopher Goodman at St. Andrews, Adarn
Heriot at Aberdeen, John Row at Perth, Paul
Methvcn at Jedburgh, William Christison at
Dundee, David Ferguson at Dunfermline, and
David Lindsay at Leith. That the business of
the church might be managed with propriety,
superintendants were elected to preside over the
ecclesiastical affairs of provinces and distrirts.
John Spottiswood was named the superintendant
for Lothian, Willocks for Glasgow, John Win-
ram for Fife, John Erskine of Dun for Angus
and Mearns, and John Carsewell for Argyle and
the Isles. This gave a beginning to the reformed
church of Scotland. Amidst the triumph and
exultation of the Protestants, the meeting of the
parliament approached. All persons who had
a title from law, or from ancient custom, to at-
tend the great council of the nation, were called
to assemble there : while there was a full con-
vention of the greater barons and the prelates,
the inferior tenants in capite, or the lesser barons,
upon an occasion so great, instead of appearing
by representation, came in crowds to give per-
sonally their assistance and votes; and all the
commissioners for the boroughs, without excep-
tion, presented themselves. It was objected to
this parliament, when it was assembled, that it
could not be valid, since Francis and Mary were
not present, and had not empowered any person
to represent them. But, by the terms of the hue
concessions to the nobility and the people, they
had in effect dispensed with this formality ; and
the objection, after having been agitated witli
heat for some days, was rejected. The lords of
the articles were then chosen ; and, as ihe Pro-
testant party were superior to the popish faction,
they were careful in electing the members of
this committee to favor all those who were dis-
posed to forward the reformation. The first ob-
ject which the lords of the articles held out to the
parliament was the supplication of the nobility,
gentry, and all the other persons who professed
the new doctrines. It required that the Romish
church should be condemned and abolished. It
reprobated transubstantiation, (he merit of works,
papistical indulgences, purgatory, pilgrimages,
and prayers to departed saints ; considering them
as pestilent errors, and as fatal to salvation. It
demanded that all those who should teach and
maintain them should be exposed to correction
and punishment. Also that a remedy should be
applied against the profanation of the holy sacra-
ments by the Roman Catholics ; that the ancient
discipline of the church should be restored ; that
the supremacy and authority of the pope should
be abolished ; and that the patrimony of the
church should be employed in supporting the
reformed ministry, in the provision of schools,
and in the maintenance of the poor. This sup-
plication of the Protestants was received in par-
liament with marks of the greatest respect. The
popish doctrines it censured, and the strong
2 K
493
SCOTLAND.
language it employed, excited no dispute. The
nobility, however, and the lay members, did not
think it expedient that the patrimony of the
church, in all its extent, should be allotted to the
reformed ministry, and the support of schools
and the poor. Avoiding therefore any explicit
scrutiny into this point, the parliament gave it in
charge to the ministers and the leading men of
the reformation, to draw up under distinct heads,
the substance and sense of those doctrines which
ought to be established over the kingdom. Within
four days this important business was accom-
plished. The writing or instrument to which the
reformed committed their opinions was termed
4 The Confession of Faith, professed and believed
by the Protestants within the realm of Scotland.'
(See Knox's Collection of Confessions of Faith,
vol. II., and Slat. Book Parl., 1567). It was
read first to the lords of the articles. It was
then read to the parliament ; and the prelates of
the Romish church were commanded, in the
name of God, to make publicly their objections
to the doctrines it proposed. They preserved a
profound silence. A new diet was appointed for
concluding the transaction. The articles of the
Confession were again read over, and the votes
of the parliament were called. Of the temporal
nobility, three only refused to bestow upon it
t:;eir authority. The earl of Athol, and the lords
Somerville and Bothwel, protested that ' they
would believe as their fathers had done before
them.' The bishops and the estate ecclesiastical,
from a consciousness of the weakness of popery,
seemed to have lost all power of speech. No
dissent, no vote, was given by them. ' It is long,'
said the earl Marisckal, ' since I entertained a
jealousy of the Romish faith, and an affection to
the reformed doctrines. But this day has af-
forded me the completest conviction of the false-
hood of the one, and the truth of the other. The
bishops, who do not conceive themselves to be
deficient in learning, and whose zeal for the main-
tenance of the hierarchy cannot be doubted, have
abandoned their religion, and their interest in it, as
objects which admit of no defence or justification.'
All the other constituent members of this great
council were zealous for the establishment of the
reformation, and affirmed the propriety of its doc-
trines. Thus the high court of parliament, with
great deliberation and solemnity, examined, voted,
and ratified the confession of the reformed faith.
A few days after the establishment of the Con-
fession of Faith, the parliament passed an act
against the mass and the exercise of the Romish
worship. It ordained that all persons saying or
hearing mass should, for the first offence, be ex-
posed to the confiscation of their estates, and to
a corporal chastisement, at the discretion of the
magistrates ; that for the second offence they
should be banished out of the kingdom ; and,
for the third, they should incur and suffer the
pains of death. This fierceness, it must be ac-
knowledged, did not suit the generosity of vic-
tory ; and, while an excuse is sought for it in the
perfidiousness of the Romish priesthood, it es-
capes not the observation of the most superficial
historians that these sererities were exactly those
of which the Protestants had complained so
loudly, and with so much justice. By another
ordination the parliament, after having declared
that the pope had inflicted a deep wound upon
the sovereignty and government of Scotland, by
his frequent interferences and claims of power,
decreed that, for the future, his jurisdiction and
authority should be dead and extinct ; and that
all persons maintaining the smallest connexion
with him, or with his sect, should be liable to
the loss of honor and offices, proscription, and
banishment. These memorable and decisive
statutes produced the overthrow of the Romish
religion. To obtain to these proceedings the
approbation of Francis and Mary was an object
of the greatest anxiety, and of infinite moment to
the three estates. Sir James Sandilands, lord St.
John, was therefore appointed to go to France,
and to express to the king and queen the affection
and allegiance of their subjects, to explain what
had been done in consequence of the late conces-
sions and treaty, and to solicit their royal ratifi-
cation of the transactions of the parliament. The
spirited behaviour of the congregation had, how-
ever, exceeded all the expectations of the princes
of Lorraine ; and the business of the embassy,
and the ambassador himself, though a man of
character and probity, were treated not only
with ridicule, but with insult. He returned ac-
cordingly without any answer to his commission.
Instead of submitting the heads of a reformation
to Francis and Mary, by a petition, the parlia-
ment had voted them into laws ; and from this
informality the validity of its proceedings has
been suspected : but it is observable that the
Protestants had not concealed their views with
regard to religion and the abolition of Popery ;
that in the grant of redress and concession, and
in the deed of treaty, no prohibition was made
to bar the establishment of the reformation ; that
a general authority was given to the parliament
to decide in affairs of state ; and that Francis and
Mary were solemnly bound to authenticate its
transactions. Though a formality was wanting,
the spirit of the treaties was yet respected and
maintained. The nation, of consequence, im-
puted the conduct of Francis and Mary to po-
litical reasons suggested by the princes of Lor-
raine, and to the artifices of the Popish clergy ;
and as Elizabeth did not refuse, upon her part,
the ratification of the agreements, but solicited
and pressed the French court to adopt the same
measure, a strength and force were thence com-
municated to this conclusion. When the three
estates despatched Sir James Sandilands to
France, they instructed the earls of Morton and
Glencairn, with Maitland of Lethington, to re-
pair to the court of England. By these ambas-
sadors they presented to Eli?abeth their respect-
ful thanks for her late most important services;
and, while they solicited the continuance of her
favor and protection, entreated that, for the estab-
lishment of a perpetual peace and amity, she
would be pleased to take in marriage the earl of
Arran, the next heir after his father to the Scottish
monarchy. The queen made new and fervent
protestations of her regard, and promised her
warmot aid when it should be necessary, in
their just defence, upon any future occasion.
She spoke in obliging terms of the earl of Ar-
ran ; but, as she found in herself no present dis-
SCOTLAND.
49P
position to marriage, she desired that lie might
consult his happiness in another alliance. She
expressed a favorable opinion of the Scottish no-
bility ; and, as a demonstration of her esteem,
she begged them to consider the unanimity of
their order as a necessary guard against the am-
bition and the artifices of the enemies of their
nation. The success of the congregation, though
great and illustrious, was not yet completely
decisive. The refusal of Francis and Mary to
ratify their proceedings was a source of inquie-
tude. The Popish party, though humbled, was
not annihilated : under the royal protection it
might soon be formidable. Political considera-
tions might arise, not only to cool the amity of
England, but even to provoke its resentment ;
and France, though it could now transport no
army against Scotland, might soon be able to
adopt that expedient. Severe calamities were
still therefore to be dreaded. In the narrowness
of their own resources they could find no perma-
nent security against the rage of domestic faction,
and the strenuous exertions of an extensive king-
dom. While the anguish of melancholy appre-
hensions repressed the triumph of the congrega-
tion, the event which could operate most to their
interests was announced to them. This event
•was the death of Francis II., without issue. The
tie which knit Scotland to France was thus
broken. A new scene of politics arose. Cathe-
rine de Medicis, the queen-mother, ruled Charles
IX., and was the personal enemy of the queen of
Scots. The power and the credit which Mary
had lent to her uncles, and the frequent and
humiliating disappointments which the queen-
mother had suffered from her influence over
Francis, were now repaid with a studied neglect.
In the full perfection of her charms, with two
crowns on her head, and looking towards a third,
she felt herself to be without grandeur and with-
out consequence. Leaving a court where she
had experienced all the enjoyments of which
humanity is susceptible, she retired to Rheims
to indulge her sorrow.
In the humiliation of their queen, and in the
change produced in the councils of France, the
Protestants of Scotland found every possible
encouragement to proceed with vigor in the full
establishment of the reformed doctrines. After
the dissolving of the parliament they turned their
attention to the plan of policy which might suit
best the religion for which they had contended.
The three estates, amidst their other transactions,
had granted a commission to Messrs. John Win-
ram, John Spottiswood, John Willocks, John
Douglas, John Row, and John Knox, to frame
and model a scheme of ecclesiastical govern-
ment. They were not long in composing the
First Book of Discipline ; in which they ex-
plained the uniformity and metlwx5 which ought
to be preserved concerning doctrine, the admin-
istration of the sacraments, the election and pro-
vision of ministers, and the policy of the church.
A convention of the estates gave its sanction to
the Presbyterian scheme ; but, while the Book
of Discipline sketched out a policy admired for
its simplicity, yet it required that the patrimony
and the rich possessions of the ancient church
should be allotted to the new establishment.
The reformers, however, so successful in the
doctrines and the policy they had proposed, were
here very unfortunate. This convention of the
estates did not pay a more respectful regard to
this proposal than the celebrated parliament had
done, which demolished the mass and the juris-
diction of the see of Rome. It was not till after
long and painful struggles that the new establish-
ment was able to procure to itself a becoming,
or even necessary provision and support. The
Romish clergy were strenuous to continue in their
possessions, and to profit by them ; and the nobles
and the laity, having seized upon great part of the
property of the church, were no less anxious to
retain their acquisitions. The aversion enter-
tained from bestowing riches upon the Presby-
terian establishment, encouraged the ardor which
prevailed for advancing all the other views and
interests of the reformed. This end was also
promoted by the insidious policy of Catherine
de Medicis. She was willing to increase all the
difficulties in the situation of the queen of Scots
and her subjects. Upon this account she had
engaged Charles IX. to despatch M. Noailles to
the Scottish parliament, to urge it in strong terms
to renew the ancient league between the two
kingdoms, to dissolve the alliance with England,
and to re-establish over Scotland the popish
doctrines and the popish clergy. A new meet-
ing of the estates was assembled, which treated
these strange requisitions with the indignation
they merited. M. Noailles was instructed to
inform his sovereign that France having acted
with cruelty and perfidiousness towards the
Scots, by attacking their independency and
liberties under the pretence of amity and mar-
riage, did not deserve to know them any longer
as an ally ; that principles of justice, a love of
probity, and a high sense of gratitude, did not
permit the Scottish parliament to break the con-
federacy with England, which had generously
protected their country against the tyrannical
views of the French court, and the treacherous
machinations of the house of Guise ; and that
they were never to acknowledge the popish
clergy to be a distinct order of men, or the legal
possessors of the patrimony of the church;
since, having abolished the power of the pope,
and renounced his doctrines, they could bestow
no favor or countenance upon his vassals and
servant" To this council of the estates a new
supplication was presented by the Protestants.
They departed from the high claim which they
had made for the riches and patrimony of the
popish church; and it was only requested by
them that a reasonable or decent provision
should be allotted to the true preachers of the
gospel. This application, however, was treated
with neglect; but, amidst the anxiety mani-
fested by the nobles and the tenants of the
crown to hold the Presbyterian clergy in subjec-
tion and in poverty, they discovered the warm-
est zeal for the extension and continuance of the
reformed opinions. For, in this supplication of
the Protestants, an ardent desire being urged
that all the monuments of idolatry which re-
mained should be utterly destroyed, the fullest
and most unbounded approbation was given to
it. An act accordingly was passed which com-
2K2
500
SCOTLAND.
mancled that every abbey-church, every cloister,
and every memorial whatsoever of popery, should
be finally overthrown and demolished ; and the
care of this popular employment was committed
to those persons who were most remarkable for
their keenness and ardor in the work of the re-
formation. Its execution in the western coun-
ties was given in charge to the earls of Arran,
Argyle, and Glencairn; lord James Stuart at-
tended to it in the more northern districts ; and,
in the inland divisions of the country, it was
intrusted to the barons in whom the congregation
had the greatest confidence. A dreadful devas-
tation ensued. The populace, armed with au-
thority, spread their ravages over the kingdom.
The churches and religious houses were every
where defaced or pulled to the ground ; and
their furniture, utensils, and decorations, became
the property of the invaders. The libraries of
the ecclesiastics, and the registers of their trans-
actions and of civil affairs, were gathered into
heaps and burnt. Religious antipathy, the
sanction of law, the exhortation of the clergy,
the hope of spoil, and the ardor to put the last
hand to the reformation, concurred to drive the
rage of the people to its wildest fury. The
death of Francis II. having left his queen Mary
ii a very disagreeable situation in France, she
now began to think of returning to her own
country. To this she was solicited both by the
Protestants and Papists ; the former that they
might gain her over to their party ; and the lat-
ter, hoping that, as Mary was of their own per-
suasion, popery might be re-established in Scot-
land. For this deputation the Protestants chose
lord James Stuart, and the Papists John Lesly,
official and vicar-general of the diocese of Aber-
deen. The latter got the start of the Protestant
ambassador, and thus had the opportunity of
first delivering his message. He advised her
strongly to beware of lord James Stuart, whom
he represented as a man of unbounded ambition,
who had espoused the Protestant cause for no
•other reason than that he might advance himself
to the highest employments in the state; nay,
that he had already fixed his mind on the crown.
For these reasons he advised that lord James
should be confined in France till the government
of Scotland could be completely established;
but if the queen was averse to this measure, he
compelled her to land in some of the northern
districts of Scotland, where her friends were
most numerous ; in which case an army of
20,000 men would accompany her to Edinburgh,
to restore the Popish religion, and to overawe
her enemies. The next day lord James Stuart
waited upon her, and gave an advice very differ-
ent from that of Lesly. The surest method of
preventing insurrections, he said, was the esta-
blishment of the Protestant religion ; that a
standing army and foreign troops would certainly
lose the affections of her subjects ; for which
reason he advised her to visit Scotland without
{niards and without soldiers, and he became
Solemnly bound to secure their obedience to her.
To this advice Mary, though she distrusted its
author, listened with attention ; and lord James
took care to improve the favorable opportunity;
by which IIILMIIS In- obtained a promise of the
earldom of Marre. Before Mary set out from
France she received an embassy from queen
Elizabeth, pressing her to ratify the treaty of
Edinburgh, in which she had taken care to get a
clause inserted that Francis and Mary should
for ever abstain from assuming the title and arms
of England and Ireland. But this was declined
by the queen of Scotland, who, in her conference
with the English ambassadors, gave proof of her
political abilities. Her refusal greatly augmented
the jealousies which already prevailed between
her and Elizabeth, insomuch that the latter re-
fused her a safe passage through her dominions.
This was considered by Mary as a high indig-
nity ; she returned a very spirited answer, in-
forming her rival that she could return to her
dominions without any assistance from her, or
indeed whether she would or not. In August
1561 Mary set sail from Calais for Scotland.
She left France with much regret ; and at night
ordered her couch to be brought upon deck,
desiring the pilot to awaken her in the morning
if the coast of France should be in view. The
night proved calm, so that the queen had an
opportunity once more of indulging herself with
a sight of that beloved country ; a favorable
wind now sprung up, and, a thick fog coming on,
she escaped a squadron of men of war which
Elizabeth had sent out to intercept her : on the
20th of August she landed safely at Leith.
Though the Scots received their queen with the
greatest demonstrations of joy, it was not long be-
fore an irreconcileable quarrel arose. The Pro-
testant religion was now established all over the
kingdom ; and its possessors had so far deviated
from their own principles, or what ought to have
been their principles, that they would grant no
toleration to the opposite party, nor even to the
sovereign herself. Inconsequence of this, when
the queen attempted to celebrate mass in her
own chapel of Holyrood House, a violent mob
assembled, and it was with the utmost difficulty
that lord James Stuart and other persons of dis-
tinction could appease the tumult. Mary at-
tempted to allay these ferments by a proclama-
tion, in which she promised to take the advice
of the states in re'igious matters ; and, in the
mean time, declared it to be death for any per-
son to attempt an innovation or alteration of the
religion now established in Scotland. Against
this proclamation the earl of Arran protested,
and told the herald that the queen's proclama-
tion should not protect her attendants and ser-
vants if they presumed to commit idolatry and
to say mass. John Knox declared from the
pulpit that one mass was more terrible to him
than if 10,000 armed enemies had landed in any
part of the kingdom to re-establish popery. The
preachers every where declaimed against idolatry
and the mass; keeping up, by their mistaken
zeal, a spirit of discontent and sedition through-
out the whole kingdom. Knox was called
before the queen to answer for the freedom of
his speeches ; but his unbounded boldness gave
Mary much disquiet. The freedoms, however,
which were taken with the queen, could not in-
duce her to depart from the plan of government
which she had laid down. To the Protestants
she resolved to pay the greatest attention; from
SCOTLAND.
501
among them she chose her privy council, and
heaped favors upon lord James Stuart, who, for
his activity in promoting the reformation, was
the most popular man in the kingdom ; while, to
her courtiers of the Roman Catholic persuasion,
she behaved with a distant formality. In the
mean time the difference between the two rival
queens became every day greater. The queen
of Scotland pressed Elizabeth to declare her
the nearest heir to the crown of England, and
Elizabeth pressed Mary to confirm the treaty of
Edinburgh. With this the latter could not
comply, as it would in fact have been renouncing
for ever the title to that crown for which she was
so earnestly contending. Endless negociations
were the consequence, and the hatred of Eliza-
beth to Mary continually increased. This year
the queen of Scotland amused herself by making
a circuit through part of her dominions. From
Edinburgh she proceeded to Stirling ; thence to
Perth, Dundee, and St. Andrews. Though
received every where with the greatest acclama-
tions and marks of affection, she could not but
remark the rooted aversion which had universally
taken place against popery ; and, upon her
return to Edinburgh, her attention was called to
an exertion of this zeal, which may be consi-
dered as highly characteristic of the times. The
magistrates of this city, after their election,
enacted rules, according to custom, for the go-
vernment of their borough. By one of these
acts, which they published by proclamation, they
commanded all monks, friars, and priests, toge-
ther with all adulterers and fornicators, to depart
from the town and its limits within twenty-four
hours, under the pains of correction and punish-
ment. Mary, interpreting this exertion of power
to be a usurpation of the royal authority and a
violation of order, displaced the magistrates,
commanded the citizens to elect others in their
room, and granted by proclamation a plenary
indulgence to all her subjects not convicted of
any crime, to repair to, and remain in, her
capital at their pleasure. Besides these dis-
turbances on account of religion, the kingdom
was now in confusion on another account. The
long continuance of civil wars had left a prone-
ness to tumults and insurrections every where ;
and thefts, rapine, and licentiousness of every
kind, threatened to subvert the foundations of
civil society. Mary made considerable prepara-
tions for the suppression of these disorders, and
appointed lord James Stuart her chief justiciary
and lieutenant. He was to hold criminal courts
at Jedburgh, and at Dumfries. To assist his
operations against the banditti, who were armed,
and often associated into bodies, a military force
was necessary ; but, as there were then neither
standing army nor regular troops in the kingdom,
the county of Edinburgh and ten others were
commanded to have their strength in readiness
to assist him. The feudal tenants, and the allo-
dial or free proprietors of these districts, in
complete armor, and with provisions for twenty
days, were appointed to be subservient to the
purposes of his commission, and to obey his
orders in establishing the public tranquillity. In
this expedition he was attended with his usual
success. He destroyed many of the strong
holds of the banditti, hanged twenty of the
most notorious offenders, and ordered fifty more
to be carried to Edinburgh, to suffer the penal-
ties of the law for their rebellious behaviour. He
entered into terms with lord Grey and Sir John
Foster, the wardens of the English borders, for
the mutual benefit of the two nations; and he
commanded the chiefs of the disorderly clans to
submit to the queen. In the mean time the
queen was in a very disagreeable situation, being
suspected and disturbed by both parties. From
the concessions she had made to the Protestants,
the Papists supposed that she had a design of
renouncing their religion altogether ; while, on
the other hand, the Protestants could scarcely
allow themselves to believe that they owed any
allegiance to an idolater. Disquiets of another
kind also now took place. The duke of Chatel-
herault, having left the Catholics to join the
opposite party, was neglected by his sovereign.
Being afraid of danger he fortified the castle of
Dumbarton, which he resolved to defend ; and,
in case of necessity, to put himself under the
protection of the queen of England. The earl
of Arran was a man of weak abilities, but of
boundless ambition. The queen's beauty had
made an impression on his heart, and his ambi-
tion made him fancy himself the fittest person
in the kingdom for her husband. But his fana-
ticism, and the violence with which he had op-
posed the mass, disgusted her. He bore her
dislike with an uneasiness that preyed upon his
intellects and disordered them. The earl of
Bothwel was distinguished chiefly by his prodi-
galities and the licentiousness of his manners.
The earl of Marischal had every thing that was
honorable in his intentions, but was over wary.
The earl of Morton possessed penetration and
ability, but was attached to no party from any
principles of rectitude ; his own interests were
the motives which governed him. The earl of
Huntly, the lord chancellor, was unquiet, varia-
ble, and vindictive. The earls of Glencairn
and Monteith were exceedingly zealous for the
new opinions ; and this, as well as their poverty,
recommended them to queen Elizabeth. Among
courtiers of this description it was difficult for
Mary to make a selection of ministers in whom
to confide. The popularity of lord James
Stuart, and of Maitland of Lethington, had early
pointed them out to this distinction ; and
hitherto they had acted to her satisfaction. They
were each of eminent capacity ; but the former
was suspected of aiming at the sovereignty ; the
latter was prone to duplicity ; and both were
more connected with Elizabeth than became
them as the ministers and subjects of another
sovereign. Beside the policy of employing and
trusting statesmen who were Protestants, and the
precaution of maintaining a firm peace with
England, Mary had it also at heart to enrich the
crown with the revenues of the ancient church
A convention of estates was assembled to deli-
berate upon this measure. The bishops were
alarmed with their perilous situation. They
were told that the charge of the queen's house-
hold required an augmentation; and that, as the
rents of the church had flowed chiefly from the
crown, it was expedient that a proportion of
502
S 0 O T L K N 0.
them should now be resumed to uphold its
splendor. After long consultations, the prelates
and estate ecclesiastical, considering that they
existed merely by the favor of the queen, con-
sented to resign to her the third part of their
benefices ; with the reservation that they should
be secured during their lives against all farther
payments, and relieved from the burden of the
maintenance of the reformed clergy. With this
offer the queen and the convention of estates
were satisfied. Rentals, accordingly, of all their
benefices throughout the kingdom, were ordered
to be produced by the ancient ecclesiastics ; the
reformed ministers, superintendants, elders, and
deacons, were enjoined to make out registers of
the grants necessary to support their establish-
ment ; and a power of judging in these matters
was committed to the queen and the privy
council. While the prelates and estate ecclesi-
astical submitted to this offer from the necessity
of their affairs, it was by no means acceptable
to the reformed clergy, who at this time were
holding an assembly. It was their wish to effect
the entire destruction of the ancient establish-
ment, to succeed to a large proportion of their
emoluments, and to be altogether independent of
the crown. But the nobles and gentlemen who
had promoted the reformation thought very
differently. To give too much of the wealth of
the church to the reformed clergy was to invest
them with a dangerous power. To give too
great a proportion of it to the crown was a step
still more dangerous. At the same it was equit-
able that the ancient clergy should be maintain-
ed during their lives ; and it consisted with the
private interests of the noblemen and gentlemen
who had figured during the reformation, not to
give consent to any scheme that would deprive
them of the spoils of which they had already
possessed themselves out of the ruins of the
church. Thus public as well as private consi-
derations contributed to separate and divide the
lay protestants and the preachers. The general
assembly, therefore, was not successful in the
views which had called them together, and which
they submitted to the convention of the estates.
Doubts were entertained whether the church had
any title to assemble itself. The petition for the
complete abolition of idolatry, or for the utter
prohibition of the mass, was rejected. The re-
quest that Mary would give authority to the
book of discipline was not only refused, but
even treated with ridicule. The only point
pressed by the church, which attracted any
notice, was its requisition of a provision or
a maintenance; but the measure invented
for this end was in opposition to all its warmest
desires.
This measure, however, so unpromising to the
preachers in expectation, was found to be still
more unsatisfactory upon trial. The wealth of
the Romish church had been immense, but great
invasions had been made upon it. The fears of
the ecclesiastics, upon the overthrow of popery,
induced them to engage in fraudulent transac-
tions with their relations ; in consequence of
which many possessions were conveyed from the
church into private hands. Long leases of church-
lands, or in perpetuity, were granted to stra;
Sales also of ecclesias'icnl property, to a great
extent, had been made by the incumbents ; and
a validity was supposed to be given to these
transactions by conrirmatkms from the pope.
Even the crown had contributed to make im-
proper dispositions of the ecclesiastical land
revenues. Laymen had been presented to bishop-
rics and church-livings, with the power of dis-
posing of the territory in connexion with them,
in this diffusion of the property of the church
much extensive domain came to be invested in
the 'nobles and the gentry. From these causes,
the grant of the third of their benefices, made by
the ancient ecclesiastics to the queen, with the
burden of maintaining the reformed clergy, \vas
not nearly so considerable as might have been ex-
pected. But, the direction of the scheme being
lodged in the queen and the privy-council, the
advantage to the crown was still greater than that
bestowed upon the preachers. Yet the carry iii'
the project into execution was not without its
inconveniences. There were still many oppor-
tunities for artifice and corruption. The ecclesi-
astics often produced false rentals of their bene-
fices ; and the collectors for the crown were not
always faithful to their trust. The complete
produce of the thirds did not amount to a great
sum ; and it was to operate to the expense's of
the queen, as well as to the support of the
preachers. A scanty proportion went to the
latter; and yet the persons chosen to fix their
particular stipends were the fast friends of the
reformation ; for this business was committed to
the earls of Argyle and Morton, lord James
Stuart, and Maitland of Lethington, with James
Mackgill the clerk register, and Sir John Ballen-
den the justice-clerk : 100 Scottish merks were
deemed sufficient for a common minister. To
clergymen of greater interest, or who exercised
their functions in more extensive parishes, 300
merks were allotted; and, excepting to superin-
tendants, this sum was seldom exceeded. To
the earl of Argyle, lord James Stuart, and lord
Erskine, who had large ecclesiastical revenues,
their thirds were usually remitted by the queen ;
and, upon the establishment of this fund or
revenue, she also granted many pensions to per-
sons about her court and of her household. The
complaints of the preachers were made with little
decency. To a mean spirit of flattery to the
reigning power they imputed the defection of
their friends ; and against the queen they were
animated with the bitterest animosity. The
poverty in which they were suffered to remain
inflamed all their passions, and inveterate habits
of insult fortified them into a contempt of au-
thority. To the queen, whose temper was warm,
the rudeness of the preachers was an endless
inquietude, which, while it fostered her religious
prejudices, had the good effect to confirm her
constancy to her friends. Lord James Stuart,
who was entitled to her respect and esteem from
his abilities, and his proximity to her in blood,
had merited rewards and honors by his public
services and the vigor of his counsels. After his
successful discharge of her commission, as chief
justiciary and lord lieutenant, she could not
think of allowing him to descend from these
offices without bestowing upon him a solid and
SCOTLAND.
503
permanent mark of her favor. She advanced
liim into the rank of her nobility, by conferring
upon him the earldom of Mar ; and contributed
to augment his consequence by facilitating his
marriage with Agnes the daughter of the earl of
Marischal; and the ceremonial of this alliance
was celebrated with a magnificence and ostenta-
tion so extravagant in that age as to excite the
fears of the preachers lest some avenging judg-
ment should afflict the land. They exclaimed
with virulence against his riotous feasting and
banquets ; and especially against his masque-
rades. In fact the abilities of the earl of Mar,
the ascendancy he maintained in the councils of
his sovereign, and the distinctions which he had
acquired, exposed him to envy. The most for-
midable and desperate of his enemies was the
earl of Huntly. In their rivalship for power,
many causes of disgust had arisen. The one
was at the head of the Protestants, the other of
the papists. Upon the death of Francis II.,
llnntly and the popish faction had sent a depu-
tation to Mary, inviting her to return to Scotland,
and offering to support her with an army of
20,000 men. His oner was treated with civility,
but rejected. The invitation of the Protestants,
presented by the earl of Mar, was more acceptable
to her. Huntly had advised her to detain his
rival in confinement in France till the Roman
Catholic religion should be re-established in
Scotland. This advice she not only disregarded,
but treated his enemy with particular civilities.
Upon her arrival in Scotland, Huntly renewed
his advances, offering to her to set up the mass
in all the northern counties. He even conversed
upon this subject with her uncles and her French
courtiers. Still no attention was paid to him.
He came to her palace, and was received only
witn respect. He was lord high chancellor
without influence, and a privy counsellor with-
out trust. The earl of Mar had her confidence,
and was drawing to him the authority of govern-
ment. These were cruel mortifications to a man
of high rank, inordinate ambition, immense
wealth, and who commanded numerous and
warlike retainers. But he was yet to feel a
stroke still more severely excruciating, and far
more destructive of his consequence. The opu-
lent estate of Mar, which Mary had erected into
an earldom, and conferred upon his rival, had
been lodged in his family for some time. He
considered it as his property, and that it was
never to be torn from his house. This blow at
once insulted most sensibly his pride, and cut
'most fatally the sinews of his greatness. After
employing against the earl of Mar those arts of
detraction and calumny which are so common in
courts, he drew up a formal memorial, in which
he accused him of aiming at the sovereignty of
Scotland. This paper he presented to the queen ;
but, the arguments with which he supported his
charge being weak, she was the more confirmed
in her attachment to her minister. Huntly then
addressing himself to the earl of Bothwel, a man
disposed to desperate enterprises, engaged him to
attempt to involve the earl of Mar and the house
of Hamilton in open and violent contention.
Bothwel represented to Mar the enmity which
had long subsisted between him and the house of
Hamilton. It was an obstacle to his greatness ;
and while its destruction might raise him to the
highest pinnacle of power, it would be most ac-
ceptable to the queen. He concluded with
making an unlimited offer of his services in the
execution of this flagitious enterprise. The earl
of Mar, however, abhorring the baseness of the
project, rejected his advances. Bothwel, thus
disappointed, next practised with the house of
Hamilton to assassinate the earl, whom they con-
sidered as their greatest enemy. The business,
he said, might be performed with ease. The
queen was accustomed to hunt in the park of
Falkland ; and there Mar, slenderly attended,
might be put to death ; the person of the queen
might be seized ; and, by detaining her in cus-
tody, a sanction might be given to their crime.
The integrity of the earl of Arran, revolting
against this conspiracy, defeated its purposes.
Dreading the perpetration of so cruel an action,
and yet sensible of the resolute determination of
his friends, he wrote privately to the earl in-
forming him of his danger. But the answer of
Mar to this letter, thanking him for his intelli-
gence, being intercepted by the conspirators,
Arran was confined by them under a guard in
Kinneil House. He escaped, however, and dis-
covered the plot to the queen. But, as he could
produce no witnesses or written vouchers, he of-
fered to prove his information, by engaging
Bothwel in single combat. And though, in his
examinations before the privy council, his love
to the queen, his attachment to the earl of Mar,
the atrocity of the scheme he revealed, and,
above all his concern for his father, the duke of
Chatelherault, threw him into a perturbation of
mind which expressed itself violently in his
speech, his countenance, and his actions ; yet
his declarations were so consistent and firm, that
it was thought advisable to take the command of
the castle of Dumbarton from the duke of Cha-
telherault, to confine the other conspirators to
different prisons, and to await the farther disco-
coveries which might be made by accident and
time. The earl of Huntly, inflamed by these
disappointments, invented other devices. He
excited a tumult while the queen and the earl of
Mar were at St. Andrews with only a few at-
tendants ; imagining that the latter would sally
forth to quell the insurgents, and that a conve-
nient opportunity would thus be afforded foi
putting him to the sword without detection.
The caution of Mar, however, defeating the pur-
pose, he ordered some of his retainers to attack
him in the evening when he should leave the
queen ; but, these assassins being surprised in
their station, Huntly affected to excuse their
being in arms in a suspicious place and at a late
hour by frivolous apologies. About this period
two letters were received by Mary from the pope
and the cardinal of Lorrain, in consequence of
the intrigues of the earl of Huntly and the Ro-
man Catholic faction. They pressed her to con-
sider that, while this nobleman was the most
powerful of her subjects, he was the most zealous
in the interests of the church of Rome. They
intreated her to marry Sir John Gordon his se-
cond son ; promised her money and military
supplies, if she would set herself to restore the
504
SCOTLAND.
ancient religion of her country ; and recom-
mended it to her to destroy the more zealous
Protestants about her court, of whom a roll was
transmitted to her, which included the name of
her minister the earl of Mar. These letters could
not have reached her at a juncture more unfa-
vorable for their success. Mar, to whom she
communicated them, was encouraged to proceed
with the greatest vigor in undermining the de-
signs of his enemies. New incidents exasperated
the animosities of his enemies. Sir JohnGordon and
lord Ogilvie, having a private dispute, happened
to meet each other in the High Street of Edin-
burgh. They immediately drew swords ; and,
lord Ogilvie receiving a very dangerous wound,
Sir John Gordon was committed to prison by
the magistrates. The queen, at this time in
Stirling, was informed by them of the riot; and,
while they expressed a fear lest the friends of
the prisoner should rise up in arms to give
him his liberty, they mentioned a suspicion
which prevailed that the partisans of lord Ogil-
vie were to assemble themselves to vindicate his
quarrel. The queen, after commending their di-
ligence, desired them to watch over their pri-
soner ; wished that the law should take its course ;
and advised them to rely upon the earl of Mar
for their protection. Sir John Gordon, however,
escaped from his confinement; and, flying into
Aberdeenshire, filled his retainers with his com-
plaints, and added to the disquiets of his father
the earl of Huntly. The queen, upon return-
ing lo Edinburgh, held a consultation with her
privy council ; and soon after set out upon a
progress to the northern parts of her kingdom.
At Aberdeen she was met by lady Huntly, a wo-
man of deep dissimulation and of refined address,
who endeavoured to conciliate her affections, was
prodigal of flattery, expressed her zeal for the
popish religion, and hinted the great power of
her husband. She then interceded with the queen
for forgiveness to her son. But Mary having
told her that this favor could not possibly be
granted till her son should return to prison, and
submit to the justice of his country, lady Huntly
engaged that he should do so, and only intreated
that, instead of Edinburgh, he should be con-
fined in the castle of Stirling. This request was
complied with ; and in the prosecution of the bu-
siness, a court of justiciary being called, Sir John
Gordon made his appearance, and acknowledged
himself to be the queen's prisoner. Lord Glam-
miswas appointed to conduct him to the castle of
Stirling.. But, upon the road to this fortress, he
deceived his guards, hastened back, and gathering
1000 horsemen among his retainers, entrusted
his security to the sword. In the mean time
the queen continued her progress. The earl of
Huntly joined himself to her tram. His anxiety
to be allowed to attend her to his house of Strath-
bogy was uncommon. The intelligence arrived
of the escape and rebellion of Sir John Gordon.
The behaviour of the father and the .<*>n awakened
in her the most alarming suspicions. Assembling
her privy council, she, with their advice, com-
manded her heralds to chair, r Sir John Gordon
and his adherents to return to their allegiance
and to surrender up to her their houses of strength
and castles, under the pains of lii-^h treason und
forfeiture. Disdaining now to go to the house of
the earl of Huntly, where that nobleman had made
preparations to hold her in captivity, she ad-
vanced to Inverness by a different rout. In the
castle of Inverness she proposed to take up her
residence ; but Alexander Gordon, the deputy
governor, a dependent of the family of Huntly,
refused to admit her. Her attendants were few
in numbei, the town was without walls, and the
inhabitants were suspected. In this extremity,
some ships in the river were kept in readiness as
a last refuge ; and she issued a proclamation
commanding all her loyal subjects in those parts
to repair to her for her protection. The Erasers and
Monros came in crowds to assist her. The Clan
Chattan, though called to arms by the earl of
Iluntly, forsook his standard for that of their so-
vereign, when they discovered that his intentions
were hostile to her. She employed them in lay-
ing siege to the castle, which surrendered upon
the first assault. The lives of the soldiers were
spared, but the deputy governor was executed,
and the queen returned to Aberdeen. To punish
the earl of Iluntly for the troubles he had raised,
a measure infinitely humiliating was executed.
The earl of Mar resigned the rich estate of that
name to lord Erskine, who claimed it as his
right ; and received in recompense, after its
erection into an earldom, the territory of Murray,
which made an extensive portion of the posses-
sions of the earl of Huntly. Lady Huntly has-
tened to Aberdeen to offer the most humble sub-
missions on the part of her husband, to avert the
downfal of his greatness. But all access to the
queen was refused ; and the earl of Huntly w;is
summoned to appear in person before the privy
council, to answer for his conduct, and to make
a full resignation of all his fortresses. He did
not present himself, and was declared to be in
open rebellion. A new proclamation was issued
by the queen to collect sufficient numbers to
subdue the insurgents. The command of her
troops was given to the earl of Murray, who
put them instantly into motion. Huntly ad-
vancing towards Aberdeen to give them battle,
was informed of their approach. He halted at
Corrichie, hoping for a decisive victory. The
army of the queen was the most numerous ; but
there were several companies in it, in whom lit-
tle confidence could be placed. These the earl •
of Murray posted in the front of the battle, to
begin the attack. They recoiled upon him, as he
expected ; but a resolute band, holding out their
spears, obliged them to face the foe. Their
flight made Huntly think the day was his own.'
He therefore ordered his soldiers to rush upon
the enemy sword in hand. But, when they came
to the place where the earl of Murray had
stationed himself, his firm battalion put a stop
to their progress. In a panic they took to flight.
The earl of Huntly was killed in the pursuit.
Hi-; .sons, Sir John Gordon and Adam Gordon,
wore made prisoners, with the principal gentle-
men who had assisted him. Mary, upon receiving
the tidings of this success, discovered neither
joy nor sorrow. But the earl of Murray and
liis party were not yet satisfied. Sir John Gor
don was brought to trial, confessed his guilt,
and was condemned to suffer as a traitor. Adam,
SCOTLAND.
505
upon account of his tender age, was pardoned ;
and tines were levied from the other captives,
according to their wealth. The lord Gordon,
after the battle, fled to his father-in-law, the duke
of Chatelherault, but was delivered up by that
nobleman. He was convicted of treason, and
condemned ; but the queen was satisfied with
confining him in prison. The body of the earl
of Iluntly was carried to Edinburgh, and Kept
unburied, till a charge of high treason was
brought against him before the three estates. A dis-
play was made of his crimes, and parliament pro-
nounced his guilt. His estates were forfeited ; his
dignity, name, and memory, were pronounced ex-
tinct ; his ensigns armorial were torn from the book
tifarms ; and his posterity were rendered unable to
enjoy any offices, honor, or rank, within the realm.
While these scenes were transacting, Mary,
who was solicitous to establish a secure amity
between the two kingdoms, opened a negociation
to procure an interview with Elizabeth. Secre-
tary Maitland, whom she employed, met with a
most gracious reception at the court of London.
The city of York was appointed as the place
where the two queens should express their mu-
tual love and affection, and bind themselves to
each other in an indissoluble union ; the day of
their meeting was fixed ; the fashion and articles
of their interview were adjusted ; and a safe con-
duct into England was granted to the queen of
Scots by Elizabeth. But in this advanced state
of the treaty it was unexpectedly interrupted.
The disturbances in Trance, the persecution of
the Protestants there, and the dangers which
threatened the reformed countries, required Eli-
zabeth to be upon her guard against the machi-
nations of the adversaries of her religion. Upon
these pretences she declined for a season the
projected interview ; sending to Mary, with this
apology, Sir Henry Sidney, a minister of ability,
whom she instructed to dive into the secret
views of the Scottish queen. This was a severe
disappointment to Mary; but Elizabeth acted in
this negociation without sincerity. It was not
her interest to admit into her kingdom a queen
who had pretensions to her crown, who might
raise the expectations of her Roman Catholic
sub ects, and advance herself in their esteem;
and who far surpassed her in beauty and the
bewitching allurements of conversation and be-
haviour. Amidst affairs of great moment, a mat-
ter of smaller consequence, but interesting in its
circumstances, deserves to be recordetl. Chate-
lard, a gentleman of family in Dauphiny, and a
relation of the chevalier de Bayard, had been in-
troduced to queen Mary by lord Damville, the
heir of the house of Montmorency. Polished
manners, vivacity, attention to please, the talent of
making verses, and an agreeable figure, were his
recommendatirns. He became necessary in all
parties of pleasure at the palace. His assiduities
attracted the notice of the queen, and, at times,
•^he did him the honor to dance with him. But
icr politeness and condescension insinuated into
him other sentiments than gratitude. He felt the
power of her charms. In an unhappy moment
he entered her apartment, and concealed himself
under her bed. \Vhile the queen was undressing
uer maids discovered him and gave her the alarm.
Chatelard was dismissed with disgrace, but soon
after pardoned. The frenzy, however, of his love
compelling him to repeat his crime, it was no
longer proper to show him any compassion. The
delicate situation of Mary, the noise of these
adventures, and the rude suspicions of her sub-
jects, required that he should be tried and
punished. He was accordingly condemned to
lose his head; and the sentence was executed.
The disagreeable circumstances in which Mary
found herself involved by her quarrel with Eli-
zabeth, the excessive bigotry and overbearing
spirit of her Protestant subjects, together with
the adventure of Chatelard, and the calumnies
propagated in consequence of it, determined her
to think of a second marriage. Her beauty and
expectations of the crown of England, with what
she already possessed, brought her many suitors
She was addressed by the king of Sweden, the
king of Navarre, the prince of Conde, the duke
of Ferrara, prince Charles of Spain, the arch-
duke Charles of Austria, and the duke of Anjou.
Her own inclination was to give the preference,
among these illustrious lovers, to the prince of
Spain ; but her determination was to render her
decision as agreeable as possible to queen Eliza-
beth, the English nation, and the Protestants in
both kingdoms. Her succession to the crown cf
England was the object nearest her heart; and
Elizabeth, who wished to prevent her from mar-
rying altogether, contrived to impress upon he*
mind an opinion that any foreign alliance would
greatly obstruct that much desired event. She
therefore pitched upon two of her own subjects,
whom she successfully recommended as fit
matches for the queen of Scots; and she pro-
mised that, upon her acceptance of either of
them, her right of inheritance should be en-
quired into and declared. Lord Robert Dud-
ley, afterwards earl of Leicester, was the first
person proposed ; but, except a manly fare and
fine figure, he had not one quality that could
recommend him to the Scottish princess. Mary
received this suitor with composure, but was
more induced to treat him with scorn than love.
The English queen then recommended to Mary
another suitor, lord Darnley, of the house of
Stuart, whose birth was almost equal to her own,
and whom the Scottish princess was induced to
accept as a husband by motives which we have
elsewhere detailed. See MAUY. Elizabeth, how-
ever, was not more sincere in this proposal than
in the former; for, after permitting Darnley, and
his father, the earl of Lennox, to visit Scotland,
to divert the attention of the queen from the
continent, she threw every possible obstacle in
the way of the marriage. When Mary was so
entangled that she could not draw back. Eliza-
beth intimated her disapprobation of that mar-
riage, which she herself had originally planned
and forwarded ; and her whole council declared
against it. John Knox, in the mean time, for-
getting not only the meek and peaceable beha-
viour of a Christian, but the allegiance of a sub-
ject, interfered with the marriage of his soverei?n.
Yet the principle upon which he acted now
forms an essential part of the British constitu-
tion, which opressly prohibits the king 01 any
of the royal family from marrying a Roman Ca-
506
SCOTLAND.
tholic. As Darnley was a Papist he was of con-
sequence execrated by the whole body of Pro-
testants, laity as well as clergy ; while, on the
other hand, he was supported by the earls of
Athol and Caithness, the lords Ruthven and
Hume, and the whole Popish faction. It was
exceedingly unfortunate for the queen, that
neither lord Darnley himself, nor his father, the
earl of Lennox, had any talents for business ;
and, as they naturally had the direction of the
queen's affairs, it is no wonder that they were
very ill managed. But a source of opposition,
more violerit than any imperfections of their own,
arose to them in the attachment which they dis-
covered to a person upon whom the queen had
of late bestowed repeated favors. David Rizzio,
from a mean origin, raised himself to distin-
guished notice in Mary's court. He was born at
Turin, where his father earned a subsistence as a
musician. Varieties of situation and adventure,
poverty and misfortunes, had taught him experi-
ence. In the train of the count de Morette, the
ambassador from the duke of Savoy, he had ar-
rived in Scotland. The queen, desirous to com-
plete her band of music, admitted him into her
service. In this humble station he had the dex-
terity to attract her attention ; and her French
secretary falling into disgrace, from negligence
and incapacity, he was promoted to his office.
A necessary and frequent admission to her com-
pany afforded him now the fullest opportunity to
recommend himself to her ; and, while she ap-
proved his manners, she was sensible of his fide-
lity and his talents. His mind, however, was
not sufficiently vigorous to bear prosperity. Am-
bition grew upon him with preferment. He in-
terfered in affairs of moment, intruded himself
into the conventions of the nobles at the palace,
and was a candidate for greatness. The queen
consulted with him upon the most important
business, and entrusted him with real power. His
suppleness and servility, in his former condition,
were exchanged for insolence, ostentation, and
pride. He exceeded the most potent barons in
the stateliness of his demeanor, the sumptuous-
ness of his apparel, and the splendor of his reti-
nue. The nobles, while they despised his low
birth, ard detested him as a foreigner, were mor-
tified with his grandeur, and insulted by his
arrogance. Their anger and abhorrence were
driven into fury ; and, while this undeserving
minion, to uphold his power, courted Darnley,
and with officious assiduities advanced his suit
with the queen, he hastened not only his own
luin, but laid the foundation of public calamity.
To the earl of Murray the exaltation of Rizzio,
so offensive in general to the nation, was pecu-
liarly humiliating. His interference for the earl
of Leicester, the partiality he entertained for
Elizabeth, his connexions with secretary Cecil,
and the favor he had shown to Knox, had all
contributed to create in Mary a suspicion of his
integrity. The practices of Darnley and Rizzio
were thence the more effectual ; and the fullest
weight of their influence was employed to un-
dermine his power. Mary, aware of their critical
situation, was solicitous to add to her strength.
Bothwel, who had been imprisoned for conspir-
ing against the life of the earl of Murray, and
who had escaped from confinement, "was recalled
from France ; the earl of Sutherland, an exile in
Flanders, was invited home to receive his par-
don ; and George Gordon, the son of the earl of
Huntly, was admitted to favor, and was soon
reinstated in the wealth and honors of his family.
As soon as Bothwel arrived, the earl of Murray
insisted that he should be brought to trial for
having plotted against his life. This was agreed
to ; and on the day of trial Murray made his ap-
pearance with 800 of his adherents. Bothwel
did not choose to contend with such a formida-
ble enemy ; he therefore fled to France, and left
a protestation that fear of violence was the cause
of his flight. The queen commanded the judge
not to pronounce sentence. Murray complained
of her partiality, and engaged still deeper in
cabals with queen Elizabeth. Darnley, in the
mean time, pressed his suit with eagerness.
The queen endeavoured to cause Murray to sub-
scribe a paper expressing his consent to her
marriage ; but to no purpose. However, many
of the nobility did subscribe this paper; and she
ventured to summon a convention of the estates
at Stirling, to whom she opened the business of
the marriage ; and who approved of her choice,
provided the Protestant religion should continue
to be the establishment. In the mean time
ambassadors arrived from England, with a mes-
sage importing Elizabeth's entire disapprobation
of the queen's marriage with lord Darnley. But
to these ambassadors Mary only replied that
matters were gone too far to be recalled ; and
that Elizabeth had no cause of displeasure, since,
by her advice, she had fixed her affections not
upon a foreigner, but upon an Englishman ; and
since the man she favored could boast of having
in his veins the royal blood of both kingdoms.
She then created lord Darnley a lord and a
knight. He was made a baron and a banneret,
and styled lord Armanagh. He was belted earl
of Ross. He then promoted fourteen gentle-
men to the honor of knighthood, and did homage
to the queen, without any reservation of duty
to the crown of England, where his family had
long resided. But his advancement to the duke-
dom of Albany was delayed ; and this was so
much resented by him that he threatened to stab
lord Ruthven when he told him of it. In the
mean time the meeting of parliament, which was
to determine the marriage, was approaching. The
earl of Murray, encouraged by the apparent firm-
ness of Elizabeth, and alarmed with the approba-
tion bestowed by the convention on the queen's
choice, began to meditate a decisive blow. To
inspirit the resentments of his friends, and to jus-
tify the violence of his projects, he hinted appre-
hensions of being assassinated by lord Darnley,
and he avoided to go to Perth, where he affirmed
that the plot against him was to be carried into
execution. He courted the enemies of Darnley,
and he united to him in a confederacy the duke
of Chatelherault, and the earls of Argyle, Ruthven,
and Glencairn. It was not the sole object of their
association to oppose the marriage. They medi-
tated the death of the earl of Lennox and lord
1 )arnley ; and, while the queen was upon the road
to Callander to visit lord Livington, they pro-
posed to intercept her and to hold her in cap-
SCOTLAND.
507
tivify. In this event, Murny was to advance
liimself into ihe government of the kingdom,
under the character of its regent. But, Mary
having heard of their conspiracy, the earl of
Athol and lord Ruthven raised suddenly 300
men to protect her in her journey. Defeated in
this scheme, the earl of Murray and his asso-
ciates did not relinquish their cabals ; and the
iiation was filled with alarms and suspicions.
Amidst other arts employed by the malcontents,
they insisted upon the danger which threatened
the Protestant religion from the advancement of
lord Darnley, and from the rupture that must en-
sue with England. Letters were dispersed among
the Protestants, reminding them of what God
had wrought for them in the abolition of idolatry,
and admonishing them to oppose the restoration
of the mass. A supplication was presented to
the queen, complaining of idolaters, and insist-
ing upon their punishment. It was received
with unusual respect ; and Mary instructed the
popish ecclesiastics to abstain from giving
offence of any kind to the Protestants. A priest,
however, having celebrated mass, was taken
by them, and exposed to the insults of the
populace at the market place of Edinburgh, in
the garments of his profession, and with the
chalice in his hand; and, the queen having given
a check to this tumultuous proceeding, the Pro-
testants were confirmed in their belief that she
meant to overthrow their religion. The most
learned and able of the clergy held frequent
consultations together ; and the general assembly
was called to deliberate upon the affairs of the
church. The commissioners, whom they sent to
ihe queen, were ordered to demand a parlia-
mentary ratification of their desires. They
insisted that the mass, with every remain of po-
pery, should be suppressed throughout the king-
dom ; that, in this reformation, the queen's per-
son and household should be included; that all
papists and idolaters should be punished upon
conviction according to the laws ; that all per-
sons should resort to the churches upon Sunday,
10 join in public worship ; that an independent
provision should be assigned for the support of
the clergy, and their successors; that all vacant
benefices should be conferred upon persons qua-
lified for the ministry ; that no bishopric, abbey,
priory, deanery, or other living, having many
churches, should be bestowed upon a single per-
son ; but that each church should be provided
with a minister; that the glebes and manses
should be allotted for the ministers, and for the
reparation of churches; that all lands, which of
old had been devoted to hospitality, should again
be made subservient to it ; that the lands and
rents which formerly belonged to the monks,
with the annuities, &c., should be employed in
the maintenance of the poor and the upholding
of schools; that all horrible crimes should be
punished ; that judges should be appointed in
every district; and that, for the ease of the labor-
ing husbandmen, some order should be devised
concerning a reasonable payment of the tithes.
To these requisitions the queen made an answer
full of moderation and humanity. She was ready
to agree with the tnree estates in establishing the
reformed religion over the subjects of Scotland ;
and she was steadily resolved not to throw into
hazard the life, the peace, or the fortune, of any
person whatsoever upon account of his opinions.
As to herselfand her household, she was persuaded
that her people would not urge her to adopt
tenets in contradiction to her own conscience,
and thereby involve her in remorse. She had
been nourished and brought up in the Romish
faith ; she conceived it to be founded on the word
of God ; and she was desirous to continue in it.
But, setting aside her belief and religious duty,
she ventured to assure them that she was con-
vinced, from political reasons, that it was her
interest to maintain herself firm in the Roman
Catholic persuasion. By departing from it she
would forfeit the amity of the king of France,
and that of other princes who were now strongly
attached to her; and their disaffection could not
be repaired or compensated by any new alliance.
To her subjects she left the fullest liberty of
conscience ; and they could not surely refuse to
their sovereign the same right and indulgence.
With regard to the patronage of benefices, it was
a prerogative and property which itwould ill be-
come her to violate. Her necessities, and the
charge of her royal dignity, required her to return
in her hands the patrimony of the crown. Afu-r
the purposes, however, of her station, and t!>o
exigences of government, were satisfied, she could
not object to a special assignment of revenue for
the maintenance of the ministry ; and, on the
subject of the other articles which had been sub-
mitted to her, she was willing to be directed by
the three estates of the kingdom, and to concur
in the resolutions which should appear to them
the most reasonable and expedient. The clergy,
in a new assembly, expressed high displeasure
at this answer to their address. They told the
queen that the doctrines of the reformation,
which she refused to adopt, were the religion
which had been revealed by Jesus Christ, and
taught by the apostles. They required of her,
therefore, to embrace the means of attaining the
truth which were offered to her in the preaching
of the word, or by the appointment of public
disputations between them and their adversaries.
The errors of the mass were placed before her
in all their deformity. The sayer of it, the ac-
tion itself, and the opinions expressed in it, were
all pronounced to be equally abominable. To
hear the mass, or to gaze upon it, was to commit
the complicated crimes of sacrilege, blasphemy,
and idolatry. Her delicacy in not renouncing
her opinions from the apprehension of offending
the king of France and her other allies they
ridiculed. They told her that the true religion
of Christ was the only means by which any con-
federacy could endure ; and that it would bring
to her the friendship of the King of kings. As
to patronages being a portion of her patrimony,
they intended not to defraud her of her rights ;
but it was their judgment that the superinten-
dants ought to make a trial of the qualifications of
candidates for the ministry ; and, if no trials or
examinations of ministers took place, the church
would be filled with misrule and ignorance. And
as to her opinion, that a suitable assignment should
be made for them, they begged her to conde-
scend to adopt a proper scheme for this end, .mJ
508
SCOTLAND.
to carry it into execution ; and that, taking into
a due consideration the other articles of their
demands, she would study to comply with them,
and to do justice to the religious establishment
of her people. From the fears of the people
about their religion, disturbances and insurrec-
tions were unavoidable; and, before Mary had
given her answer to the petitions of the clergy,
the Protestants, in a formidable number had
marched to St. Leonard's Craig; and, dividing
themselves into companies, had chosen captains
to command them. But, the leaders of this tu-
mult being apprehended, it subsided by degrees ;
and the queen, upon the intercession of the ma-
gistrates of Edinburgh, gave them a free pardon.
To quiet the apprehensions which had gone
abroad of her inclination to overturn the reformed
doctrines, she repeatedly issued proclamations,
assuring her subjects that it was her fixed deter-
mination not to disturb any person upon account
of his religion or conscience ; and that she would
never attempt any innovation that might endanger
the public tranquillity. While Mary was thus
conducting her affairs with prudence, the earl of
Murray and his confederates continued their in-
trigues. They perceived that their only hope of
success depended upon Elizabeth; and, as Ran-
dolph had promised them her protection and as-
sistance, they addressed a letter to her, explain-
ing their views and situation. The pretences of
hostility to their sovereign, upon which they
affected to insist, were her settled design to over-
turn the Protestant religion, and her rooted de-
sire to break all amity with England. But with
her support and aid they did not doubt of being
able to advance effectually the advantage of the
two kingdoms. They applied not, however, for
any supply of troops. Au aid from her treasury
was now only necessary ; and they engaged to
bestow her bounty in the manner most agreeable
to her inclinations and her interests. The plea-
sure with which Elizabeth received their appli-
cation was equal to the aversion she had con-
ceived against the queen of Scots. She not only
granted the relief they requested, but assured
them by Randolph of her esteem and favor while
they should continue to uphold the reformed
religion and the connexion of the two nations.
Flattered by her assurances, they were strenuous
to gain partizans, and to disunite the friends of
their sovereign ; and, while they were secretly
preparing for rebellion, they disseminated among
the people the tenets that a Papist could not
legally be their king ; that the queen was not at
liberty of herself to make the choice of a hus-
band ; and that, in a matter so weighty, she
Mght to be entirely directed by the determina-
jon of the three estates in parliament. Eliza-
*eth, carrying her dissimulation to the most
criminal extremity, commanded Randolph to ask
an audience of Mary ; and to counsel her to har-
bour no suspicions of the earl of Murray and
his friends ; to open her eyes to their sincerity
and honor ; and to call to mind that, as their
ienrices had hitherto preserved her kingdom in
repose, her jealousies of them might kindle it
into combustion, make the blood of her nobles to
flow, and cast into hazard her person and her
frown. Full of astonishment at a message so
rude, the queen of Scots desired him to inform
his mistress that she required not her instruc-
tions to distinguish between patriotism and
treachery ; that she was fully sensible when her
will was resisted or obeyed ; and that she pos-
sessed a power which was more than sufficient to
repress and to punish the crimes of her subjects.
The English resident went now to the earl of
Lennox and the lord Darnley, and charged them
to return to England. The former expressed
an apprehension of the severity of his queen, and
sought an assurance of her favor before he could
venture to visit her dominions. The latter, ex-
erting greater fortitude, told him that he acknow-
ledged no duty or obedience but to the queen of
Scots. The resident, treating this answer as dis-
respectful to Elizabeth, turned his back upon
lord Darnley, and retired without bidding him
adieu. This behaviour of Elizabeth, so tierce
and so perfidious, was well calculated to con-
firm all the intentions of Mary. But, while the
queen of Scots was eager to accomplish her mar-
riage, she was not inattentive to the rising trou-
bles of her country. The parliament which she
had appointed could not now be held : it was
therefore prorogued to a more distant day ; and
the violence of the times did not then permit it
to assemble. By letters she invited to her, with
all their retainers, the most powerful and the
most eminent of her subjects. Bothwel was
recalled anew from France ; and by general pro-
clamations she summoned to her standard the
united force of her kingdom. The castle of
Edinburgh was likewise provided amply with
stores and ammunition. The alacrity with which
her subjects flocked to her from every quarter
assured her of her power and popularity ; while
it struck Murray and his adherents with the
danger to which they were exposed. On the
29th of July, 1565, the ceremony of marriage
between the queen and lord Darnley was per-
formed. The latter had been previously created
duke of Albany. The day before the marriage
a proclamation was published, commanding him
to be styled king of the realm, and that all
letters after their marriage should be directed in
the names of her husband and herself. The day
after a new proclamation was issued confirming
this act; he was pronounced king by the sound
of trumpets, and associated with the queen in her
government : a measure which seems to have
been the effect of the extreme attachment the
queen had for her husband, which did not per-
mit her to see that it was an infringement of the
constitution.
The earl of Murray remonstrated that a king
was imposed upon the nation without the con-
sent of the three estates, and called upon the na-
tion to arm against the beginnings of tyranny.
The malcontents were quickly in arras; but their
success did not answer their expectations. The
majority of the nation were satisfied with the
good intentions of their sovereign, and she her-
self took the earliest opportunity of crushing the
rebellion in its infancy. The earl of Murray
was declared a traitor ; and similar steps were
taken with other chiefs of the rebels. She then
took the field against them at the head of a con-
siderablo army ; and, having driven them from
SCOTLAND-
109
place to place, obliged them at last to take refuge
in England. Queen Elizabeth received them
with that duplicity for which her conduct was so
remarkable. Though she herself had counte-
nanced, and even excited them to revolt, she re-
fused to give an audience to their deputies. Nay,
she even caused them to emit a public declara-
tion, that neither she, nor any person in her
name, had ever excited them to their rebellious
practices. Yet, while the public behaviour of
Elizabeth was so acrimonious, she afforded them
a secure retreat in her kingdom, treated the earl
of Murray in private with respect and kindness,
and commanded the earl of Bedford to supply
him with money. Mary, however, resolved to
proceed against the rebels with an exemplary
rigor. The submissions of the duke of Chatel-
herault alone, who had been less criminal than the
rest, were attended to. But even the favor which
he obtained was precarious and uncertain ; for
he was commanded to use the pretence of sickness,
and to pass for some time into foreign countries.
A parliament was called ; and a summons of
treason being executed against the earls of Ar-
gyle, Glencairn, and llothes, with others of the
principal rebels, they were commanded to ap-
pear before the three estates; in default of
which their lives and estates were declared to be
forfeited. In the mean time Throgmorton the
English ambassador solicited the pardon of the
rebels; which Mary was at first inclined to
grant. However, by the persuasion of the court
of France, she was not only induced to proceed
against them with rigor, but acceded to the
treaty of Bayonne, by which the destruction of
the Protestants was determined. This measure
filled the whole court with terror and dismay.
The rebels were acquainted with the danger of
their situation ; and, being now driven desperate,
they were ready to engage in the most atrocious
designs. Unhappily, the situation of affairs in
Scotland rendered the accomplishment of their
purposes but too easy. Violent disgusts had
taken place between the queen and her husband.
Her fondness had been excessive ; but she soon
perceived that the qualities of his mind were
not proportioned to his personal accomplish-
ments. He was proud, disdainful, suspicious,
wilful, giddy and obstinate, insolent and mean.
The queen iu consequence began to show an in-
difference towards him ; which he took care to
augment, by showing the like indifference to-
wards her, and engaging in low intrigues and
amours, indulging himself in dissipation and
riot, &c. However, the desire of dominion was
his ruling passion ; and the queer, finding his
total incapacity for exercising his power to any
good purpose, had excluded him from it altoge-
ther. He was therefore a proper object for the
machinations of the rebels, and readily entered
into an agreement with them to depose the
queen; vainly thinking that he should thus se-
ture the crown to himself. However as the par-
Jiament was soon to assemble, in which the rebels
lad every reason to believe that they would be
tondemned for high treason, it was necessary
lhat the kingdom should be thrown into disorder
before that time came, otherwise their fate was
inevitable. Practising on the imbecility of Darn-
ley, they persuaded him that a criminal corre-
spondence subsisted between the queen and
David Rizzio. Of all the slanders circulated
against queen Mary, this appears the most ridi-
culous and incredible ; Rizzio was both old and
of very unattractive appearance. But the king
was resolved upon his destruction ; and the con-
spirators hoped thereby not only to get an in-
demnity, but to effect a total revolution at court,
and the entire humiliation of Bothwel, Huntly,
and Athol, who were the associates of llizzio.
However, to save themselves, they engaged the
king to subscribe abend, affirming that the pro-
ject of assassinating Rizzio was altogether of his
own devising ; acknowledging that he had soli-
cited them to take a part in it, from the appre-
hensions that resistance might be made to him ;
and agreeing, upon the word and honor of a
prince, to protect and secure them against every
hazard and injury to which they might be ex-
posed from the achievement of his enterprise.
Having procured this security, and having al-
lured the earl of Lennox the king's father to ap-
prove of their measures, they adjusted the method
of the projected murder, and despatched a mes-
senger to the English frontier, advertising the
earl of Murray and the rebels of their intention*,
and inviting them to return tothecourt. Upon the
9th of March, about seven o'clock P. M. armed
men, to the number of 500, surrounded the pa-
lace of Holyrood. The earl of Morton and lord
Lindsay entered the court of the palace, with
160 persons. The queen was in her chamber at
supper, with her natural sister the countess of
Argyle, her natural brother Robert commendator
of Holyrood House, Bejon of Creich master of
the household, Arthur Erskine, and David
Rizzio. The king, entering the apartment, seat-
ed himself by her side. He was followed by
lord Ruthven, who being wasted with sickness,
and cased in armour, exhibited an appearance
that was hideous and terrible. Four ruffians at-
tended him. In a hollow voice he commanded
Rizzio to leave a place which did not become
him. The queen, in astonishment, asked the
king the meaning of this mysterious enterprise.
He affected ignorance. She ordered Ruthveii
from her presence under pain of treason ; declar-
ing that, if Rizzio had committed any crime, she
would produce him before the parliament, and
punish him according to the laws. Ruthven,
drawing his dagger, advanced towards Rizzio.
The queen rose to make an exertion of her au-
thority. The unfortunate stranger laid hold of
her garments, crying out for justice and mercy.
Other conspirators, rushing into the chamber,
overturned the table, and increased the dismay
and confusion. Loaded pistols were presented
to (he bosom of the queen. The king held her
in his arms. George Douglas, snatching the
dagger of his sovereign, plunged it into the body
of Rizzio. The wounded and screaming victim
was dragged into the antichamber ; and so eager
were the assassins to complete their work that
he was mangled with fifty-six wounds. While
the queen was pressing the king to gratify her
enquiries into the meaning of a deed so execra-
ble, Ruthven returned into their presence. She
gave a full vent to indignafion and reproach.
510
SCOTLAND.
Ruthven, with an intolerable coldness and deli-
Iteration, informed her that Rizzio had been put
to death by the counsel of her husband, whom he
had dishonored ; and that by the persuasion of
this minion she had refused the crown matrimo-
nial to the king, had engaged to re-establish the
ancient religion, had resolved to punish the earl
of Murray and his friends, and had entrusted
her confidence to Bothwel and Huntly, who
were traitors. The king, taking the part of
Ruthven, remonstrated against her proceedings,
and complained that from the time of her fami-
liarity with Rizzio she had neither regarded, en-
tertained, nor trusted him. His suspicions and
ingratitude shocked and tortured her. His con-
nexion with the conspirators gave her an omin-
ous anxiety. Apprehensions of outrages still
more atrocious invaded her. In these agitated
moments site did not lose herself in the helpless-
ness of sorrow. The loftiness of her spirit com-
municated relief to her ; and, wiping away her
tears, she exclaimed, that it was not now a season
for lamentation, but for revenge.
The earls of Huntly, Bothwel, and Athol,
lords Fleming and Livingston, and Sir James
Balfour, who were at this time in the palace,
found all resistance to be vain. Some of them,
eluding the vigilance of Morton, made their es-
cape ; and others were allowed to retire. The
provost and magistrates of Edinburgh, hearing of
the tumult, ordered the alarm bell to be rung.
The citizens ran in crowds to enquire into the
welfare of their sovereign; but she was not per-
mitted to address them. The conspirators told
her that, if she presumed to make any harangue,
they would ' cut her in pieces, and cast her over
the walls.' The king called to the people that
she was well, and commanded them to disperse.
The queen was shut up in her chamber, uncer-
tain of her fate, and without the consolation or at-
tendance of her women. In the morning a pro-
clamation was issued by the kin?, without the
knowledge of his queen, prohibiting the meeting
of the parliament, and ordering the members to
retire from the city. The rebellions lords now
returned from England, and arrived at Edinburgh
within twenty-four hours after the assassination
of Rizzio. The queen, knowing of how much
consequence it was for her to gain the earl of
Murray, invited him to wait upon her. Not-
withstanding die extreme provocation which she
had met with, Mary so far commanded her pas-
sions that she gave him a favorable reception.
After informing him of the rudeness and severity
of the treatment she had met with, the queen ob-
served, that, if he had remained in friendship
with her at home, he would have protected her
against such excesses of hardship and insult.
Murray, with an hypocritical compassion, shed
tears ; while the queen seemed to entertain no
doubt of his sincerity, but gave him room to
hope for a full pardon of all his offences, fn
the mean time, however, the conspirators were
consulting, whether they should hold the queen in
perpetual captivity, or put her to death ; or whe-
ther they should content themselves with com-
mitting her to close custody in Stirling castle, till
they should obtain a parliamentary sanction to
their proceedings, establish the Protestant reli-
gion by the total overthrow of the mass, and
invest the king with the crown matrimonial ami
the government of the kingdom. Mary now
began to perceive the full extent of her wretched-
ness ; and therefore, as her last resource, ap-
plied to the king, whom she treated with all
the blandishments of her sex. The king, wh'»,
with all his faults, had a natural facility of tem-
per, was easily gained over. The conspirators
were alarmed at his coldness, and endeavoured
to fill his mind with fears concerning the dupli-
city of his wife ; but, finding they could not gain
their point, they at last began to treat of'an ac-
commodation. The king brought them a mes-
sage, importing that Mary was disposed to bury
in ob'ivion all memory of their transgressions ;
and he offered to conduct them into her presence.
The earls of Murray and Morton, with the lord
Ruthven, attending him into her presence, and,
falling on their knees before the queen, made their
apologies and submissions. She commanded
them to rise ; and having desired them to recol-
lect her abhorrence of cruelty and rapaciousness,
she assured them, with a gracious air, that instead
of designing to forfeit their lives, and possess
herself of their estates, she was inclined to re-
ceive them into favor, and to give a full pardon,
not only to the nobles who had come from I;.n_-
land, but to those who had assassinated David
Rizzio. They were accordingly ordered to pre-
pare the bonds for their security and forgive:
which the queen promised to take the earliest
opportunity of subscribing; but in the mean
time the king observed that the conspirators
ought to remove the guards which they hari
placed around the queen, that all suspicion ot
restraint might be taken away. This measure
could not with any propriety be opposed, and
the gvards were therefore dismissed ; upon which
the queen, that very night, left her palace at
midnight, and took the road to Dunbar, accoin
panied by the king and a few attendants. The
news of the queen's escape threw the conspira-
tors into the utmost consternation ; as she im-
mediately issued proclamations foi her subjects
to attend her in arms, and was powerfully sup-
ported. They sent therefore lord Semple, re-
questing, with the utmost humility, her subscrip-
tion to their deeds of pardon and security ; but
to this message she returned an unfavorable an-
swer, and advanced towards Edinburgh with ai
army of 8000 men. The conspirators now fled
with the utmost precipitation. Even John
Knox retired to Kyle till the storm should blow
over. On the queen's arrival at Edinburgh, a privy
council was instantly called, in which the conspi-
rators were charged to appear as guilty of mur-
der and treason ; their places of strength were
ordered to be given up to the officers of the
crown ; and their estates and possessions were
made liable to confiscation and forfeiture. But,
while the queen was thus eager to punish the
conspirators, she was sensible that so many of
the nobility, by uniting in a common cause,
might raise a powerful party in opposition to her;
for which reason she endeavoured to detach the
earl of Murray from the rest, by making him of-
f i-s of pardon. Sir James Melvil accordingly
I ledged himself to produce his pardon and that
SCOTLAND.
511
•of his adherents, if he would separate from Mor-
ton and the conspirators. He accordingly be-
came cold and distant to them, and exclaimed
against the murder as a most execrable action;
but, notwithstanding his affected anger, when the
conspirators fled to England, he furnished them
with letters of recommendation to the earl of
Bedford. After the flight of the conspirators, the
king thought it necessary for him to deny his hav-
ing any share in the action. He therefore em-
braced an opportunity of declaring to the privy
council his total ignorance of the conspiracy
against Rizzio ; and not satisfied with this, by
public proclamations at the market-place of his
capital, and over the whole kingdom, protested
to the people at large that he had never bestow-
ed upon it, in any degree, the sanction of his
command, consent, assistance, or approbation.
In the mean time the queen granted a full and
ample pardon to the earls of Murray, Argyle,
Glencairn, and Rothes, and their adherents ; but
towards the conspirators she remained inexora-
ble. This lenity, to Murray especially, proved
a source of the greatest inquietude to the queen ;
for this nobleman, blind to every motive of ac-
tion distinct from his own ambition, began to
contrive new plots, which, though disappointed
for a time, soon operated to the destruction of
the queen, and almost to the ruin of the nation.
In 1566 the queen was delivered of a prince, who
received the name of James. This happy event,
however, did not extinguish the quarrel betwixt her
and the king. His desire to intrude himself into her
authority, and to fix a stain upon her honor, his
share in the murder of Rizzio, and his extreme
meanness in publicly denying it afterwards,
could not fail to impress her with the strongest
sentiments of detestation and contempt. Un-
able, however, totally to divest herself of regard
for him, her behaviour, though cold and distant,
was yet decent and respectful. Castelnau, am-
bassador extraordinary from France, endeavour-
ed to bring about a reconciliation ; nor were his
endeavours altogether ineffectual. The king and
queen spent two nights together; and proceeded,
in company to Meggatland in Tweedale, to enjoy
the diversion of the chase, attended by the earls
of Huntly, Bothwel, Murray, and other nobles.
Thence they passed to Edinburgh, and then took
the road to Stirling. Had the king been endowed
with any prudence, he would have made the best
use of this opportunity to have regained the
affections of his queen ; but, instead of this,
finding that he was not immediately entrusted
with power, his peevishness suggested to him a
design of going abroad. To M. du Croc, the
French resident, who had attended Mary at
Stirling, he ventured to communicate his chime-
rical project. This statesman represented to
him its wildness and inefficacy; and could
hardly believe that he was serious. His father
and all the courtiers endeavoured to dissuade
him from it. They admonished him to remem-
ber that his flight would expose him to every
kind of ridicule and disgrace. They pointed out
•the happiness of his fortune, and counselled him
not to part lightly with its flattering advantages.
The queen herself, taking his hand into her's,
and pressing it with affection, besought him to
say by what act or deed she had unfortunately
induced him to conceive so fatal a purpose?
Her memory did not reproach her with any
crime or indiscretion, which affected his honor
or her integrity ; yet, if she had undesignedly
incurred his displeasure, she was disposed to
atone for it : and she begged him to speak freely.
M. du Croc then asked him to reveal his in-
quietudes. But all this attention was ineffectual.
Obstinately froward, lie refused to confess that
he intended any voyage, and made no mention
of any reasons of discontent. He acknowledged
with readiness that he could not accuse the
queen of any offence. In perturbation, he pre-
pared to retire ; and, turning to her, said, ' Adieu,
madam ! you shall not see me for a long time.'
He then bowed to the French envoy and to the
lords of the privy council, and hastened back to
Stirling, leaving the queen and her council in
astonishment. They resolved to watch his mo-
tions, and could not conjecture what step he
would take. Mary despatched a courier to ad-
vertise the king of France and the queen-mother
of his conduct. But it was not possible that a
prince so meanly endowed with ability could
make any impression upon her allies. He was
universally odious ; and at this time the queen
was in the highest estimation with the great body
of her subjects. After passing some days at
Stirling, he addressed a letter to the queen, in
which, after hinting at his design of going abroad,
he insinuated his reasons of complaint. 'He
was not entrusted by her with authority, and
she was no longer studious to advance him to
honor. He was without attendants ; and the
nobility had deserted him.' Her answer was
sensible and temperate. She called to his re-
membrance ' the distinctions she had conferred
upon him, the uses to which he had put the
credit and reputation accruing from them, and
the heinous offences he had encouraged in her
subjects. Though the plotters against Rizzio
had represented him as the leader of their enter-
prize, she had behaved as if she believed not his
participation in the guilt of that project. As
to the defects of his retinue, she had uniformly
offered him the attendance of her own servants.
As to the nobility they were the supports of the
throne, and independent of it. Their counte-
nance was not to be commanded, but won.
He had discovered too much stateliness to
them ; and they were the proper judges of
their own deportment. If he wished for conse-
quence, it was his duty to pay them attention ;
and, whenever he should conciliate their regard,
she would be happy to give him all the import-
ance that belonged to him.' In the mean time
the earls of Murray and Bothwel were indus-
triously striving to widen the breach between
the king and queen, and at the same time to fo-
ment the division between the king and his nobles.
The earl of Morton excited disturbances on the
borders; and, as no settled peace had taken
place there since Mary's marriage, there was the
greatest reason to believe that he would succeed
in his attempts. Proclamations were therefore
issued by the queen to call her subjects to arms :
and she proceeded to Jedburgh to hold justice-
courts. In the course of tin's journey she was
.11-2
SCOTLAND.
taken dangerously ill : ;is soon as she was able to
travel she visited Kelso, Werk Castle, Hume,
Lang ton, and VVedderburn. The licentious bor-
derers, on the first news of her recovery, laid
down their arms. Being desirous to take a view
of Berwick, the queen advanced to it with an
attendance of 1000 horse. Sir John Forster,
the deputy warden of the English marches, came
forth with a numerous retinue, and conducted
her to the most proper station for surveying it,
and paid her all the honors in his power, by a
salute of the artillery, and other demonstrations of
joy. Continuing her journey, she passed to Ey-
inouth, Dunbar, and Tamtallan ; proceeding
thence to Craigmillar Castle, where she proposed
to remain till the time of the baptism of the
princp, which was to be celebrated at Stirling.
During her severe sickness her husband had kept
himself at a distance ; but, when she was so far
recovered as to be out of danger, he made his
appearance ; and, being received with some cold-
ness, he retired suddenly to Stirling. This cruel
neglect was a most sensible mortification to her.
She was seized with a settled melancholy ; and in
her anguish often wished for death to put a pe-
riod to her existence. Her nobles, who were ca-
balling against her, remarked her condition, and
took advantage of it. Bothwel, who had already
recommended himself by his services, redoubled
his efforts to heighten the favor which these ser-
vices had induced her to conceive for him. At
this time he sought to gain the affection of the
queen, with a view to marry her himself, provid-
ing a divorce from her husband could be obtained,
•which was now become the subject of consulta-
tion by Murray and his associates. After much
deliberation the queen herself was acquainted
with this project ; and it was told her that, pro-
vided she would pardon the earl of Morton and
his associates, the means should be found of
effectuating the divorce. This was urged as a
nvitter of state by the earls of Murray, Lething-
to», Argyle, and Huntly ; and the queen was in-
vited to consider it as an affair which might be
managed without any interference on her part.
The queen replied that she would listen to them,
upon condition that the divorce could be obtain-
ed according to the laws, and that it should not
be any way prejudicial to her son ; but, if they
meant to operate their purpose by a disregard to
these points, they must not think any more of it;
for, rather than consent to their views, she
would endure all the torments, and abide by all
the perils, to which her situation exposed her.
Lethington, upon this, in the name of the rest,
engaged to deliver her from her husband, with-
out prejudice to her son : words which could not
be understood otherwise than as pointing at mur-
der. Lord Murray, added he, who is here present,
scrupulous as he is, will connive, and behold our
proceedings without opening his lips. The
queen is said immediately to have made answer,
' I desire that you will do nothing from which
any stain may be fixed upon my honor or con-
science ; and I therefore require the matter to
rest as it is, till God of his goodness send relief.
What you think to be of service to me may turn
out to my displeasure and harm.' It appears that
from this moment a plot was formed by Murray,
Bothwel, and Lethington against the life of Darn-
ley, and by some of them probably against the
queen herself; and that Morton, who with the other
conspirators against Rizzio had received a pardon,
was closely associated with them in their nefarious
designs. That profligate peer was, in his way to
Scotland, met at Whittingham by Bothwel and
the secretary. They proposed to him the murder
of the king, and required his assistance, alleging
that the queen herself consented to the deed : to
which Morton by his osvn account replied that
he was disposed to concur, provided he were sure
of acting under any authority from her; but Both-
wel and Lethington, having returned to Edinburgh
on purpose to obtain such an authority, sent him
back a message, that the queen would not permit
any conversation upon that matter. In the mean
time preparations were made for the baptism of
the young prince ; to assist at which the queen
left Craigmillar, and went to Stirling. The cere-
mony was performed on the 17th of December,
1566. He was called Charles-James-James-
Charles, and proclaimed by the heralds prince
and steward of Scotland, duke of Rothesay, earl
of Carrick, lord of the isles, and baron of Ren-
frew. Amidst the scenes of joy displayed on this
occasion the king showed greater folly than ever.
Though he had often kept at a greater distance
before, he took up his residence at Stirling, as if
he had meant to offend the queen, and to expose
their quarrels: chiefly confining himself to his
chamber. His strange behaviour, however, did
not give the public any favorable idea of him ;
and, as the earl of Murray and his faction took
care to augment the general odium, no court was
paid to him by foreign ambassadors. His situa-
tion, therefore, was exceedingly uncomfortable;
but, though he must have been conscious of its
imprudence, he did noi alter his conduct. In a
sullen humor he left Stirling, and proceeded to
Glasgow. Here he fell sick, with such symp-
toms as seemed to indicate poison. He was
tormented with violent pains, and his body
was covered with pustules of a bluish color ; so
that his death was daily expected. Mary did
not repay his coldness to her by negligence. She
set out immediately for Glasgow, and waited on
him with all the assiduity of an affectionate wife
until he recovered; after which she returned
with him to Edinburgh; and, as the low situa-
tion of the palace of Holyrood House was thought
to render it unhealthy, the king was lodged
in a house which had been appointed for the
superior of the church called St. Mary's in the
Fields. This house stood upon a high ground, at
the back of that ground where the royal infirmary
now stands, and in a salubrious air ; and here
she staid with him some days. Here the conspi-
rators thought proper to finish their plot in the
most execrable manner. On the 10th of Febru-
ary, 1567, about two o'clock in the morning, the
house where the king resided was blown up by
gunpowder. The explosion, alarming the inha-
bitants, excited a general curiosity, and brought
multitudes to the place whence it proceeded. The
kin? was found dead and naked in an adjoining
field, with a servant who used to sleep in the
same apartment with him. On neither was there
any mark of fire or olber external injury. Till the
SCOTLAND.
513
late improvements of the city, when all incum-
brances were cleared away, the gate in the old
wall, at the back of the king's house, by which the
conspirators entered and returned from their
bloody business, was distinctly visible, though long
ago built up.
The queen was in the palace of Holyrood
House, taking the diversion of a masked ball,
which was given to honor the marriage of a
favorite domestic, when the news of the king's
death was brought to her. She showed the ut-
most grief, and appeared exasperated to the last
degree against the perpetrators of a deed at once
so shocking and barbarous. The most express
and positive orders were given to enquire after
the perpetrators by every possible method. A
proclamation was issued by the privy council,
assuring the people that the queen and nobi-
lity would leave nothing undone to discover the
murderers of the king. It offered £2000, and an
annuity for life, to any person who should give
information of the devisers, counsellors, and per-
petrators of the murder ; and, besides this reward,
the promise of a full pardon, to the conspira-
tor who should make a free confession of his
own guilt, and that of the confederates. On the
fourth day after this proclamation was published
a placard was affixed to the gate of the city
prison, affirming that the earl of Bothwel, James
Balfour, David Chalmers, and black John Spence,
were the murderers. No name, however, was
subscribed to this intelligence, nor was any de-
mand made for the proffered reward ; so that it
was difficult to know whether this advertisement
had been dictated by a spirit of calumny or the
love of justice. In the mean time the earl of
Murray conducted himself with his usual circum-
spection and artifice. Upon a pretence that his
wife was dangerously sick at his castle in Fife,
he, the day before the murder, obtained the
queen's permission to pay a visit to her. Thus
he proposed to prevent all suspicion whatever of
his guilt. He was so full, however, of the in-
tended project that, while he was proceeding on
his journey, he observed to the person who ac-
companied him, ' This night, before morning, the
lord Darnley shall lose his life.' When the blow
was struck, he returned to Edinburgh to carry on
his practices. Among foreign nations the domes-
tic disputes of the queen and her husband being
fully known, it was with the greater ease that
reports could be propagated to her disadvantage.
To France letters were despatched, expressing in
fervent terms her participation in the murder.
In England the ministers and courtiers of Eliza-
beth could not flatter that princess more agree-
ably, than by industriously detracting from the
honor and the virtue of the Scottish queen.
Within her own dominions a similar spirit of
outrage exerted itself, and not without success.
Her reconciliation with her husband was inter-
preted to be dissimulation and treachery. The
Protestant clergy, who were her most determined
enemies, possessed a leading direction among the
populace ; and they were the friends and the par-
lizans of the earl of Murray. Open declamations
from the pulpit were at the same time made
against Bothwel; and papers were dispersed
making the queen a party with him in the mur-
VOL. XIX.
der. Every art was employed to provoke the
frenzy of the people. Voices, interrupting the
silence of the night, proclaimed the^ infamy of
Bothwel ; and portraits of the regicides were cir-
culated over the kingdom. The queen's deter-
mination, however, to scrutinize into the matter
was unabated ; and to the earl of Lennox, the
king's father, she paid an attention which he
could only have expected from her upon an emer-
gency of this kind. Having pressed her by letter
to the most diligent enquiry after the regicides,
she returned an answer so completely to his
wishes that he was fully convinced of the sincerity
and rigor with which she intended to proceed
against them ; and he urged her to assemble the
three estates, that their advice might direct the
order and manner of their trial. She wrote to
him that an assembly of the estates was already
proclaimed ; that* it was her earnest and deter-
mined will and purpose that no step should be
neglected that could conduce to the execution of
justice : and that, although she had thought it
expedient to call a meeting of the parliament at
this juncture, it was not her meaning that the pro-
ceedings against the regicides should be delayed
till it was actually assembled : adding that if he
would condescend to mention the names which,
in his opinion, were most suspicious, she would
instantly command that those steps should be
taken which the laws directed and authorised. He
in return named the earl of Bothwel, James Bal-
four, David Chalmers, black John Spence, Franjfp
Sebastian, John de Bourdeaux, and Joseph, trre
brother of David Rizzio; and assured her majesty
that his suspicions of these persons were weighty
and strong. In reply to his information, Alary
gave him her solemn promise that the persons he
had pointed out should undergo their trial in con-
formity to the laws, and that they should be
punished according to the measure of their guilt :
and she invited him to leave immediately his re-
tirement, and to meet her at her court, that he
might witness the proceedings against them, and
the zeal with which she was animated to perform
the part that became her. While the queen car-
ried on this correspondence with the earl of
Lennox she resided partly at the palace of lord
Seton, a few miles from her capital, and partly at
Holyrood House. By the time that she sent her
invitation to him she was residing in her capital.
She delayed not to confer with her counsellors,
and to lay before them the letters of the earl of
Lennox. Bothwel was earnest in his protestations
of his innocence; and he even expressed his wish
for a trial, that he might establish his integrity.
No facts pointed to his guilt; there had appeared
no accuser but the earl of Lennox ; and no wit-
nesses had been found who could establish his
criminality. Her privy council seemed to be
firmly persuaded tliat he was suffering under the
malice of defamation. Murray, Morton, and
Lethington, whatever might be their private ma-
chinations, were publicly his most strenuous de-
fenders; and they explained the behaviour of
the earl of Lennox to be the effect of jealousy
against a nobleman who had outrun him so far
in the career of ambition. But though all the
arts of Murray and Bothwel, Morton and Le-
thington, were exerted to mislead the queen, they
2 L
514
SCOTLAND.
were not able to withhold her from adopting the
strain of conduct which was the most proper and
honorable to her. It was her own ardent desire
that the regicides should be punished ; she had
given her solemn promise to the earl of Lennox
that the persons whom he suspected should be
prosecuted ; and amidst all the appearances in
favor of Bothwel, and all his influence, it is a
striking proof of her honor, vigor, and ability,
that she could accomplish this measure. An or-
der, accordingly, of the privy council was made,
which directed that the earl of Bothwel, and all
the persoss named by Lennox, should be
brought to trial for the murder of the king, and
that the laws of the land should be carried into
full execution. The 12th of April was appointed
for the trial. A general invitation was given to all
persons whomsoever to prefer their accusations.
The earl of Lennox was formally cited to do
himself justice, by appearing in the high court
of justiciary, and by coming forward to make
known the guilt of the culprits. In the mean
time it was thought proper to repress that spirit
of outrage that had manifested itself against the
queen. No discoveries, however, were made,
except against James Murray, brother to Sir
William Murray of Tullibardin, who at different
times had published placards injurious to her.
He was charged to appear before the privy coun-
cil ; but, refusing to obey its citation, it was
made a capital offence for any commander of a
vessel to convey him out of the kingdom ; and
the resolution was taken to punish him with an
exemplary severity. Effecting, however, his es-
cape, he avoided the punishment due to his re-
peated and detestable acts of calumny and
treason. The day for the trial of Bothwel ap-
proached. The conspirators, notwithstanding
their power, were not without apprehensions.
Their preparations, however, for their safety had
been anxious ; anjfk among other practices, they
threw the earl of "Lennox into a panic. They
were favored by his consciousness of his unpo-
pularity, and his want of strength, by his timidity
and spirit of jealousy : by the time he had reached
Stirling, in his way to Edinburgh, his fears pre-
dominated. He was uo longer in haste to proceed
against the regicides. He addressed a letter to
the queen, in which he said he had fallen into
such sickness that he could not travel ; and he
affirmed that he had not time to prepare for the
trial and to assemble his friends. An application
for the delay of a trial so important, upon the
night immediately preceding the day stated for
it, for reasons of no force, could not with pro-
priety be attended to. The privy council refused
the earl's demand. The court of justiciary
was assembled. The earl of Argyle acted as
lord high justiciar ; and was aided by four
assessors, Robert Pitcairn, commendator of
Dumfermline, and lord Lindsay ; with Mr.
James Macgill and Mr. Henry Balnaves, two
lords of the session. The indictment was read,
and the earls of Bot'iwel and Lennox were called
upon ; the one as the defender, the other as the
accuser. Bothwel, who had come to the court
with an attendance of his vassals, and a band of
mercenary soldiers, presented himself; but I^-n-
nox appeared only by his servant Robert L'un-
nyngham ; who after apologising for the earl's
absence, from the shortness of time and the ab-
sence of his friends, desired that a new duy
should be appointed for the trial ; and protested
that, if the jury should now enter upon the busi-
ness, they would incur the guilt of a wilful error,
and their verdict be of no force. This remon-
strance and protestation appeared not to the court
of sufficient importance to interrupt the trial.
They paid a greater respect to the letters of the
earl of Lennox to the queen insisting upon an
immediate prosecution, and to the order of the
privy council consequent upon them. The jury,
who consisted of men of rank, after considering
and reasoning upon the indictment for a consi-
derable time, were unanimous in acquitting
Bothwel of all share and knowledge of the king's
murder. The machinations, however, of Morton
were so apparent that the earl of Caithness, the
chancellor of the assize, made a declaration, in
their name and his own, that no wilful error
ought to be imputed to them for their verdict, no
proof, vouchers, or evidence, to support or con-
firm the criminal charge, having been submitted
to them. At the same time he offered a
protestation, for himself, that there was a mistake
in the indictment, the 9th day of February, in-
stead of the 10th, being expressed in it as the
date of the murder. It is not to be doubted
but that this flaw in the indictment was a
matter of design, and with a view to the advan-
tage of Bothwel, if the earl of Lennox had
made his appearance against him. And it has
been remarked, as very suspicious, that soldiers
in arms should have accompanied him to the
court of justice ; that, during the trial, the earl
of Morton stood by his side, to countenance and
assist him ; and that the four assessors to the
chief justiciar were warm and strenuous friends
of Murray's.
Immediately after his trial, Bothwel set up in
a conspicuous place a writing, subscribed by
him, challenging to single combat any person of
equal rank with himself who should dare to af-
firm that he was guilty of the king's murder. To
this challenge an answer was published, in which
the defiance was accepted upon the condition
that security should be given for a fair and equal
conflict : but, no name being subscribed to this
paper, no step was taken for the duel. Two
days after the parliament met : and there the
party of Bothwel appeared equally formidable.
The verdict in his favor was allowed to be true
and just. He was continued in his high offices;
and obtained a parliamentary ratification of the
place of keeper of Duubar castle, with the estates
in connexion with it ; and other favors were
conferred upon Murray, with the rest of the no-
bles suspected as accomplices in the murder. A
very short time after the acquitment of Bothwel
he began to give a greater loose to his ambition,
and conceived hopes of gaining the queen in
marriage. It has been already remarked that he
had insidiously endeavoured to gain her affection
during the lifetime of her husband ; but the recent
death of the king in such a shocking manner,
and the strong suspicions still resting upon him,
notwithstanding his acquittal, prevented him from
making his addresses openly to her. He therefore
SCOTLAND.
515
endeavoured to gain the nobility over to his side ;
which having done, by means of great promises,
he invited them to an entertainment, where they
agreed to ratify a deed pointing him out to the
queen as a person worthy of her hand, and ex-
pressing their resolute determination to support
him in his pretensions. This extraordinary bond
was accordingly executed ; and Murray's name
was the first in the list of subscribers, to decoy
others to sign after him ; but, that lie might ap-
pear innocent of what he knew was to follow,
he had, before any use was made of the bond,
asked and obtained the queen's permission to go
to France. In his way thither he visited the
court of Elizabeth, where lie did not fail to con-
firm all the reports which had arisen to the dis-
advantage of Mary ; and he now circulated the
intelligence that she was soon to be married to
Bothwel. Her partizans in England were exceed-
ingly alarmed ; and even Elizabeth herself wrote
to her, and cautioned her not to afford such a
mischievous handle to the malice of her enemies.
Mary, upon the dissolution of the parliament,
had gone to Stirling to visit the young prince.
Bothwel, armed with the bond of the nobles,
assembled 1000 horse, under the pretence of
protecting the borders, of which he was the
warden ; and, meeting her upon her return to
her capital, dismissed her attendants, and carried
her to his castle of Dunbar. The arts which he
there used to effect the accomplishment of his
wishes are mentioned under the article MARY.
But having been married only six months before
to lady Jane Gordon, sister to the earl of Hunt-
ly, it was necessary to procure a divorce before
he could marry the queen. This was easily ob-
tained. The parties were cousins within the
prohibited degrees, and had not obtained a dis-
pensation from Rome. The marriage therefore,
in the opinion of the queen and her Roman Ca-
tholic subjects, was illicit. The husband had also
been unfaithful ; so that two actions of divorce
were instituted. The lady commenced a suit
against him in the court of commissaries, charging
him as guilty of adultery with one of her maids.
The earl brought a suit against his wife before
the archbishop of St Andrews, upon the plea of
consanguinity. By both courts their marriage
was decided to be void ; and thus two sentences
of divorce were pronounced.
Bothwel now conducted the queen from Dun-
bar to her capital. But, instead of attending her
to her palace at Holyrood House, his jealousy
and apprehensions induced him to lodge her in
the castle of Edinburgh, where he could hold
her in security against any attempt of his ene-
mies. To give satisfaction, however, to her
people, and to convince them that she was no
longer a prisoner, a public declaration upon her
part appeared to be a measure of epexdiency.
she presented herself, therefore, in the court of
session ; the lords chancellor and president, the
judges, and other persons of distinction, being
present. After observing that some stop had been
put to the administration of justice upon account
of her being detained at Dunbar against her will
by the lord Bothwel, she declared that, though she
had been highly offended with the outrage offered
her, she was yet inclined to forget it. His cour-
teousness, the sense she entertained of his past
services to the state, and the hope with which
she was impressed of his zeal and activity for the
future, compelled her to give him and his accom-
plices in her imprisonment a full pardon. She
also desired them to take notice that she was
now at her liberty ; and that she proposed, in
consideration of his merits, to take an early op-
portunity of promoting him to new honors. At
length the order was given for the proclamation
of the banns of marriage between them, and Mr.
John Craig, one of the ministers of Edinburgh,
was desired to perform this business. But, though
the order was subscribed by thequeen, he refused
his compliance without the authority of ihe
church. The church, after long reasonings,
granted him permission to discharge this duty.
But his scruples were not yet removed. He
protested that, in obeying their desife, he should
be allowed to speak his own sentiments concern-
ing the marriage, and that his publishing the
banns should infer no obligation in him to offi-
ciate in the solemnity. In his congregation,
accordingly, before a crowded audience, and in
the presence of several noblemen and privy coun-
sellors, he declared that the marriage of the queen
and the earl of Bothwel was unlawful, and that
he was prepared to give his reasons for this opi-
nion to the parties themselves. He added that,
if leave to do this was denied him, he would
either abstain altogether from proclaiming the
banns, or take the liberty, after proclaiming them,
to inform his people of the causes of his disap-
probation of the marriage. He was carried be-
fore the lords of the privy council; and the earl
of Bothwel called upon him to explain his be-
haviour. He answered that the church had pro-
hibited the marriage of persons separated for
adultery ; and that the divorce between him and
his wife must have been owing to collusion;
since the sentence had been given with precipi-
tation, and since his new contract was so sud-
den ; and he objected to him the abduction and
ravishment of the queen, and the suspicion of
his guilt in the king's murder. This bold lan-
guage drew no reply from Bothwel that was
satisfactory to Mr. Craig, or that could intimidate
him. He proclaimed in his church the banns
of the marriage ; but he told the congregation
that he discharged the suggestions of his con-
science in pronouncing it to be a detestable and
scandalous engagement. He expressed the sor-
row he felt for the conduct of the nobility who
seemed to approve it from their flattery or silence ;
and, addressing himself to the faithful, he be-
sought them to pray to the Almighty that he
would turn a resolution intended against law,
reason, and religion, into a comfort and benefit
to the church and the kingdom. These freedoms
were too great to pass unnoticed. Mr. Craig
was ordered anew to attend the privy council ;
and he was reprimanded with severity for ex-
ceeding the bounds of his commission. He had
the courage to defend himself. His commission,
he said, was founded in the word of God, posi-
tive law, and natural reason ; and upon these
topics he was about to prove that the marriage
must be universally foul and odious, when the
earl of Bothwel commanded him to be silent.
2L 2
516
SCOTLAND
The privy council, struck with the vigor of the
man, and apprehensive of the public discontents,
did not dare to inflict any punishment upon him ;
and this victory over Bothwel, while it heightened
all the suspicions against him, served to encou-
rage the enemies of the queen, and to undermine
the respect of her subjects. Mary, before she
gave her hand to Bothwel, created him duke of
Orkney. The ceremony was performed in a
private manner, after the rules of the popish
church ; but, to gratify the people, it was like-
wise solemnised publicly according to the Pro-
testant rites by Adam Bothwel bishop of Oskney,
who IKK! renounced the episcopal order for the
Presbyterian. It was celebrated with little
pomp. Many of the nobles had retired to their
seats in the country ; and those who attended
were thoughtful and Sad. Du Croc, the French
ambassador, sensible that the match would be
displeasing to his court, refused to give his coun-
tenance to the solemnity. There were no accla-
mations of the people. Mary herself was not
unconscious of the imprudence of the measure,
and looked back with surprise and sorrow to the
train of circumstances which had conducted her
to this fatal event. Forsaken by her nobles, and
imprisoned at Dunbar, she was in so perilous a
situation that no remedy could save her honor
hut death. Her marriage was the immediate and
necessary consequence of that situation. Melvil
vindicates her on this principle, and even lord
Ilailes apologises for her by observing that 'after
Mary had remained a fortnight under the power
of a daring profligate adventurer, few foreign
princes would have solicited her hand.' But,
after making every allowance for her situation
and circumstances, it was a most imprudent step,
and the most unjustifiable action of her whole
life. It was indeed the point for which her ene-
mies had labored with a wicked and relentless
policy.
Mary was unfortunate in her second marriage,
but much more so in her third. Bothwel had
neither talents for business nor affection for his
wife. Ambitious to the last degree, he sought
only to establish himself in power, while his
fears and jealousies made him take the most im-
proper means. The marriage had already thrown
the nation into a ferment; and the least im-
proper exercise of power, or indeed an appear-
ance of it, would be sufficient to ruin them both
for ever. Perhaps the only thing which at this
juncture could have pacified the people, would
have been the total abolition of popery, which
they had often required. But this was not
thought of. Instead of taking any step to please
the people, Bothwel endeavoured to force the
earl of Mar to deliver up the young prince to
his custody. This was sufficient to make the
flame, which had hitherto been smothered, break
out with all its violence. It was universally be-
lieved that Bothwel, who had murdered the
fattier, designed to kill the son also, and the
queen was thought to participate in all his
crimes. The earl of Murray now took advan-
tage of the queen's unfortunate situation to ag-
grandise himself. After having visited the KIILT-
lish court, he proceeded to France, where he
assiduou.tly disseminated all the reports against
the queen which were injurious to her reputation ;
and where, without being exposed to sus-
picion, he was able to maintain a close cor-
respondence with his friends Morton and Le-
thington, and to inspirit their machinations. His
associates, true to ins ambition and their own,
had promoted all the schemes of Bothwel upon
the queen with a power and influence which had
insured their success. In confederacy with the
earl of Murray himself, they had conspired with
him to murder the king. Assisted with the
weight of the earl of Murray they had managed
his trial, and operated the verdict which ac-
quitted him. By the same arts, and with the
same views, they had joined with him to procure
the bond of the nobles, recommending him to the
queen as a husband, asserting his integrity and
innocence, recounting his noble qualities, and
expressing an unalterable resolution to support
the marriage against every opposer and adversary,
and recording a wish that a defection of its
objects should be branded with everlasting igno-
miny. When the end, however, was accom-
plished for which they had been so zealous, and
when the marriage of the queen was actually
celebrated, they were in haste to entitle them-
selves to the ignominy which they had imprecated.
The murder of the king, the guilt of Bothwel,
his acquittal, his divorce, and his marriage, be-
came the topics of their complaints and decla-
mation. Upon the foundation of this hated mar-
riage, they ventured to infer the privity of the
queen to all his iniquity and transactions ; and
this step seemed doubtless, to the mass of her
own subjects, and to more distant observers, a
strong confirmation of all the former suspicions
which had been circulated with so much artifice.
Their imputations and devices excited against
her, both at home and abroad, the most indig-
nant and humiliating odium; and, amidst the
ruins of her fame, they thought to bury for
ever her tranquillity and peace. But, while this
cabal were prosecuting their private ends, seve-
ral noblemen, not less remarkable for their vir-
tue than their rank, were eager to vindicate the
national integrity and honor. The earl of Athol,
upon the king's murder, had retired from the
court, and was waiting for a proper season to
take revenge upon the regicides. The earl of
Mar, uneasy under the charge of the young
prince, was solicitous to make himself strong, thai
he might guard him from injury. Motives so
patriotic and honorable drew applause and par-
tizans. An association was insensibly formed to
punish the murderers of the king, and to protect
the person of the prince. Morton and Lething-
ton encouraged and promoted this combination. A
convention was appointed at Stirling, for consult-
ing upon the measures expedient to be pursued.
They agreed to take an early opportunity to ap-
pear in the field ; and, when they separated, it
was to collect their retainers, , and to inspirit their
passions. Of this confederacy, the leading men
were the earls of Argyle, Athol, Morion, Mar,
and Glencairn; the lords Hume, Semple, and
Lindsay; the barons Kirkaldy of (irange, Mur-
ray of Tullibardin, and Maitland of I*thington.
The earl of Bothwel was sensible that if he was
to sit upon the throne he must wade to it through
SCOTLAND.
517
blood. By his advice, two proclamations were
issued in the name of the queen, under the pre-
tence of suppressing insurrections and depreda-
tions upon the borders. By the former she
called together in arms, upon an early day, the
earls, barons, and freeholders of the districts of
Forfar and Perth, Strathern, and Monteith,
Clackmannan, Kinross, and Fife. By the latter
she charged the greater and lesser baronage,
with all the inferior proprietors of the shires of
Linlithgow, Edinburgh, Haddington, and Ber-
wick, to prepare immediately for war, and to
keep themselves in readiness to march upon her
order. These military preparations added to the
public discontents. The rumors against the
•queen were violent and loud. It was said that
she meant to overturn the constitution and the
laws ; that she had been careless of the health of
her son, and was altogether indifferent about his
preservation; that she had separated herself from
the councils and assistance of her nobles ; and
that she wished to make her will the only rule of
her government. Agitated with the hazardous
state of her affairs she published a new procla-
mation, in which she employed herself to refute
these accusations; and in which she took the op-
portunity to express, in a very forcible manner,
not only her attachment to her people and the
laws, but the fond affection that she bore to the
prince, whom she considered as the chief joy of
her life, and without whom all her days would
be comfortless. The declarations of the queen
were disregarded. The nobles abounding in
vassals, and having the hearts of the people,
were soon in a situation to take the field. They
were advancing to the capital. The royal army
was not yet assembled ; and the queen and
Bothwel suspected that the castle of Edinburgh
would shut its gates upon them. The fidelity
of Sir James Balfour, the deputy governor, had
been staggered by the practices of the earl of
Mar and Sir James Melvill. Mary left her pa-
lace of Holyrood House, and was conducted to
Borthwick Castle. The associated lords, informed
of her flight, took the road to this fortress,
with 2000 horse. Lord Hume, by a rapid march,
presented himself before it with the division
under his command ; but, being unable to guard
all its avenues, the queen and Bothwel effected
their escape to Dunbar, where the strength, of
the fortifications gave them a full security against
a surprise. Upon this second disappointment,
the nobles resolved to enter Edinburgh, and to
augment their strength by new partizans. The
earl of Huntly and lord Boyd were here on the
side of the queen, with the archbishop of St.
Andrews, the bishop of Ross, and the abbot of
Kilwinning. They endeavoured to animate the
inhabitants to defend their town and the cause
of their sovereign. But the tide of popularity
was favorable to the confederate lords. The
magistrates ordered the gates of the city to be
shut; but no farther resistance was intended.
The lords, forcing St. Mary's port, found an
easy admittance, and took possession of the
capital. The earl of Huntly and the queen's
friends fled to the castle to Sir James Balfour,
who had been the confident of Bothwel, and
who agreed to protect them, although he was
now concluding a treaty with the insurgents.
The associated lords now formed themselves into
a council, and circulated a proclamation. By
this paper they declared that the queen, being
detained in captivity, was neither able to govern
her realm, nor to command a proper trial to be
taken of the king's murder. In an emergency
so pressing they had not despaired of their
country, but were determined to deliver the
queen from bondage, to protect the person of
the prince, to revenge the murder of the king,
and to vindicate the nation from the infamy it
had hitherto suffered through the impunity of
the regicides. They therefore commanded all
the subjects of Scotland whatsoever, and the
buigesses and inhabitants of Edinburgh in par-
ticular, to take a part with them, and to join in
the advancement of purposes so beneficial and
salutary. Next day they issued another procla-
mation in terms still stronger. They expressed
their persuasion of Bothwel's guilt in the rape
and seduction of the queen, and in the king's
murder, to accomplish his marriage ; and of his
design to murder the young prince, and that he
was collecting troops with this view. Address-
ing themselves, therefore, to all the subjects of
the realm, whether they resided in counties or in
boroughs, they invited them to come forward to
their standard ; and threatened all who should
disobey them that they should be treated as
enemies and traitors. Bothwel in the mean
time was not inactive; the proclamations of the
queen had brought many to her assistance ; 4000
combatants ranged themselves on her side, and
Bothwel was impatient to put his fortunes to the
issue of a battle. He left the strong castle of
Dunbar, where the nobles were not prepared to
assail him, and where he might have remained
in safety till they dispersed themselves; for
their proclamations were not so successful as
they had expected ; their provisions and stores
were scanty ; and the zeal of the people, unsup-
ported by prosperity, would soon have abated.
Imprudent precipitation served, them in a most
effectual manner. When the queen had reached
Gladsmuir, she ordered a manifesto to be read
to her army, and to be circulated among her
subjects. By this paper she replied to the pro-
clamations of the confederated nobles, and
charged them with treachery and rebellion. She
treated their reasons of hostility as mere pre-
tence. As to the king's murder, she protested
that she herself was fully determined to revenge
it, if she could be so fortunate as to discover its
perpetrators. With regard to the bondage from
which they were so desirous to relieve her, she
observed that it was a falsehood so notorious
that the simplest of her subjects could confute
it ; for her marriage had been celebrated in a
public manner, and the nobles could hardly have
forgotten that they had subscribed a bond recom-
mending Bothwel to be her husband. With
regard to the industrious defamations of this
nobleman, it was urged that he had discovered
the utmost solicitude to establish his innocence.
He had invited a scrutiny into his guilt ; the
justice of his country had absolved him ; the
three estates assembled in parliament were satis-
fied with the proceedings of his judges and jury;
518
SCOTLAND.
and he had offered to maintain his quarrel against
any person whatsoever who was equal to him in
rank, and of an honest reputation. The nobles,
she said, to give a fair appearance to their trea-
son, pretended that Bothwel had schemed the
destruction of the prince, and that they were in
arms to protect him. The prince, however, was
actually in their own custody ; the use they
made of him was that of a screen to their
perfidiousness ; and the real purposes with
which they were animated were the overthrow of
her greatness, the ruin of her posterity, and the
usurpation of the royal authority. She therefore
entreated the aid of her faithful subjects ; and,
as the prize of their valorous services she held
out to them the estates and possessions of the
rebels.
The associated nobles, pleased at the approach
of the queen, put themselves in motion. In
Edinburgh they had gathered an addition to
their force ; and the Scottish officer who com-
manded the companies which the king of Den-
mark was permitted to enlist in Scotland had
been gained to assist them. He had just com-
pleted his levies, and he turned them against the
queen. The nobles, after advancing to Mussel-
burgh, refreshed their troops. Intelligence was
brought that the queen was upon her march.
The two armies were nearly equal in numbers ;
but the preference, in point of valor and disci-
pline, belonged decisively to the soldiers of the
nobles. The queen posted herself on the top of
Carberrry hill. The lords, taking a circuit,
seemed to be retreating to Dalkeith, but, wheel-
ing about, they approached to give her battle.
They were ranged in two divisions. The one
was commanded by the earl of Morton and the
lord Hume ; the other was directed by the earls
of Athol, Mar, and Glencairn, with the lords
Lindsay, Ruthven, Semple, and Sanquhar. Both-
wel was the leader of the royal forces; and
there served under him the lords Seton, Yester,
and Borthwick. It was not without apprehen-
sions that Mary surveyed the formidable appear-
anoe of her enemies. Du Croc, the French
ambassador, hastened to interpose his good
offices, and to attempt an accommodation. He
assured the nobles of the peaceful inclination of
the queen ; and that the generosity of her nature
disposed her not only to forgive their present
insurrections, but to forget all their former trans-
gressions. The earl of Morton informed him
that they had not armed themselves against the
queen, but against the murderer of the late king ;
and that if she would surrender him up to them,
or command him to leave her, they would return
to their duty. This language confounded Du
Croc. He conceived that all negociation was
fruitless, and withdrew. Mary was full of per-
turbation and distress. It was with infinite
regret that she considered the consequences of
her situation at Dunbar. Nor had his behaviour
since her marriage contributed to allay her in-
quietudes. The violence of his passions, his
suspicions, and his guilt, had induced him to
surround her with his creatures, and to treat her
with insult and indignity. She had been almost
constantly in tears. His demeanor, which \\;ts
generally rude and indecent, was often so
savage and brutal that she sometimes was tempt-
ed to commit suicide. Upon his account she
was now encompassed with dangers. Her crown
was in hazard. Under unhappy agitations, she
rode through the ranks of her army, and found
her soldiers dispirited. Whatever respect they
might entertain for her, they had none for her
husband. His own dependents only were wil-
ling to fight for him. He endeavoured to
awaken the royal army to valor, by throwing
down the gauntlet of defiance against any of
his adversaries who should dare to encounter
him. His challenge was instantly accepted by
Kirkaldy of Grange, and by Murray of Tullibar-
din. He objected that they were not peers.
The lord Lindsey discovered the greatest impa-
tience to engage him, and his offer was admitted ;
but the queen prohibited the combat. All the
pride and hopes of Bothwel sunk within him.
His soldiers, in small parties, were secretly
abandoning their standards. It was equally
perilous to the queen to fight or to fly. The
most prudent expedient for her was to capitu-
late. She desired to confer with Kirkaldy of
Grange, who remonstrated to her against the
guilt and wickedness of Bothwel, and counselled
her to abandon him. She expressed her willing-
ness to dismiss him upon the condition that the
lords would acknowledge their allegiance and
continue in it. Kiskaldy passed it to the nobles,
and received their authority to assure her that
they would honor, serve, and obey her as their
princess and sovereign. He communicated this
intelligence to her. She advised Bothwel to
provide for his safety by flight; and Kirkaldy
admonished him not to neglect this opportunity
of effecting his escape. Overwhelmed with
shame, disappointment, terror, remorse, and
despair, this miserable victim of ambition and
guilt turned his eyes to her for the last time.
To Kirkaldy of Grange the queen stretched out
her hand ; he kissed it ; and, taking hold of the
bridle of her horse, conducted her towards the
nobles. They were approaching her with be-
coming reverence, when she addressed herself
to them thus : — ' I am come, my lords, to ex-
press my respect, and to conclude our agree-
ment ; I am ready to be instructed by the wis-
dom of your councils ; arid I am confident that
you will treat me as your sovereign.' The earl
of Morton, in the name of the confederacy, ad-
dressed her in these words : — ' Madam, you are
among us in your proper place ; and we will pay
to you as much honor, service, and obedience,
as ever in any former period was offered by the
nobility to the princes your predecessors.'
This gleam of sunshine was soon overcast.
She remained not many hours in the camp, till
the common soldiers, instigated by her enemies,
presumed to insult her with the most unseemly
reproaches. They exclaimed indignantly against
her as the murderer of her husband, and reviled
her as a lewd adulteress, and in language the
most coarse and opprobrious. The nobility for-
got their promises, and seemed to have neither
honor nor humanity. She had changed one mi-
serable scene for a distress that was deeper and
more hopeless. They surrounded her with
guards, and conducted her to her capital. She
SCOTLAND.
519
was carried along its streets, and shown to her
people in captivity and sadness. She cried out
to them to commiserate and protect her. They
withheld their pity, and afforded her no protec-
tion. Even new insults were offered to her.
The lowest of the populace, whom the declama-
tions of the clergy had driven into rage and
madness, vied with the soldiery in the licentious
outrage of invective and execration. She be-
sought Maitland to solicit the lords to repress
the insupportable atrocity of her treatment. She
conjured him to let them know that she would
submit herself implicitly to the determination of
the parliament. Her intreaties and her sufferings
made no impression upon the nobles. They
continued the savage cruelty of their demeanor.
She implored, as the last request she would
prefer to them, that they would lead her to her
palace. This consolation, too, was refused to her.
They wished to accustom her subjects to behold
her in disgrace, and to teach them to triumph
over her misfortunes. In the most mortifying
and afflicting hour she had ever experienced,
oppressed with fatigue, and disfigured with dust
and sorrow, they shut her up in the house of
the lord provost : leaving her to revolve in her
anxious and agitated mind the indignities she
had already endured, and to suffer in anticipa-
tion the calamities they might yet inflict upon
her. The malice of Morton and his adherents
was still far from being gratified. In the morn-
ing, when the queen looked from the window
of the apartment to which she had been con-
fined, she perceived a white banner displayed
in such a manner as to fix her attention. There
was delineated upon it the body of the late
king stretched at the foot of a tree, and the
prince upon his knees before it, with a label
from his mouth, containing this prayer, ' Judge
and revenge my cause, O Lord !' This abomina-
ble banner revived all the bitterness of her
afflictions. The curiosity of the people drew
them to a scene so new and so affecting. She
exclaimed against the treachery of her nobles ;
and she begged the spectators to relieve her
from their tyranny. The eventful story of the
preceding day had thrown her capital into a
ferment. The citizens of a better condition
crowded to behold the degraded majesty of their
sovereign. Her state of humiliation, so oppo-
site to the grandeur from which she had fallen,
moved them with compassion and sympathy.
They heard her tale, and were filled with in-
dignation. Her lamentations, her disorder, her
beauty, all stimulated their ardor for her deli-
verance. It was announced to the nobles that
the tide of popular favor had turned towards
the queen. They hastened to appear before
her, and to assure her, with smiles and cour-
tesy, that they were immediately to conduct her
to her palace, and to reinstate her in her royalty.
Imposing upon her credulous nature, and that
beautiful humanity which characterised her even
in the most melancholy situations of her life,
they prevailed with her to inform the people
that she was pacified, and that she wished them
to disperse themselves. They separated in obe-
dience to her desire. The nobles now conveyed
her to Holyroocl House.. But nothing could
be farther from their intentions than her re-
establishment in li-berty and grandeur. They
held a council, in which they deliberated con-
cerning the manner in which they ought to
dispose of her. It was resolved that she should
be confined during her life in the fortress of
Lochleven ; and they subscribed an order for her
commitment. A resolution so sudden, so per-
fidious, and so tyrannical, filled Mary with the
utmost astonishment, and drew from her the most
bitter complaints and exclamations. Kirkaldy of
Grange, perceiving with surprise the lengths to
which the nobles had proceeded, felt his honor
alarmed for the part he had acted at their desire.
He expostulated with them upon their breach of
trust, and censured the extreme rigor of the
queen's treatment. They counselled him to rely
upon the integrity of their motives ; spoke of her
passion for Bothwel as most vehement, and in-
sisted on the danger of intrusting her with power.
He was not convinced by their speeches ; and
earnestly recommended lenient and moderate
measures. They assured him that when it ap-
peared that she detested Bothwel, and had ut-
terly abandoned his interests, they would think
of kindness and moderation. But this, they
urged, could hardly be expected ; for they had
recently intercepted a letter from her to this no-
bleman, in which she expressed, in the strongest
terms, the warmth of her love, and her fixed
purpose never to forsake him. This letter is
such a palpable forgery that Mr. Hume himself
gives it up.
Kirkaldy was desired to peruse this letter;
and he pressed them no longer with his remon-
strances. The queen sent a message to this ge-
nerous soldier, complaining of the cruelty of her
nobles, and reminding him that they had vio-
lated their engagements. He instantly addressed
an answer to it, recounting the reproaches he
had made to them ; stating his advice, describ-
ing the surprise with which he had read her in-
tercepted letter ; and conjuring her to renounce
and forget a most wicked and flagitious man,
and, by this victory over herself, to gain the love
and respect of her subjects. The forgery of a
letter from her to Bothwel completed the amaze-
ment of the queen. So unprincipled a contempt
of every thing that is most sacred, so barbarous a
perseverance in perfidiousness and injustice,
extinguished every sentiment of hope in her bo-
som. She conceived that she was doomed to
inevitable destruction, and sunk under a pang
of unutterable anguish. The lords Ruthven and
Lindsay arrived, in this paroxysm of her distress,
to inform her that they were commanded to put
in execution the order fo* her commitment. They
charged her women to take from her all her or-
naments and her royal attire. A mean dress was
put upon her ; and in this disguise they con-
veyed her with precipitation to the prison ap-
pointed for her. The lords Seton, Yester, and
Borthwick, endeavoured to rescue her, but
failed in the attempt. She was delivered over
to NYilliam Douglas the governor of the castle
of Lochleven, who had married the mother of
the earl of Murray, and was himself nearly re-
lated to the earl of Morton. See MARY. Upon
the same day on which the nobles subscribed
520
SCOTLAND.
the order for the imprisonment of the queen,
they entered into a bond of confederacy, by
which they bound themselves into a body for the
strenuous prosecution of their quarrel. They
engaged to punish the murderers of the king, to
examine into the queen's rape, to dissolve her
marriage, to preserve her from the bondage of
Bothwel, to protect the person of the prince,
and restore justice to the realm. An oath con-
firmed their reliance upon one another ; and,
in advancing their measures, they engaged to
expose and employ their lives, kindred, and
fortunes. But, notwithstanding all the pretended
patriotism of the rebels, nothing was further
from their intentions than to prosecute Bothwel
and restore the queen to her dignity. They had
already treated her in the vilest manner, and
allowed Bothwel to escape, when they might
easily have apprehended and brought him to
trial. To exalt themselves was their only aim.
Eleven days after the capitulation at Carberry
Hill, they held a convention, in which they very
properly assumed the name of lords of the se-
cret council, and called a proclamation for ap-
prehending Bothwel as the murderer of the
Jtjng; offering a reward of 1000 crowns to any
person who should bring him to Edinburgh. A
search had been made for the murderers of the
king that very night in which the queen was
confined in Lochleven castle. One Sebastian a
Frenchman, and captain Blackader, were then
apprehended ; and soon after James Edmond-
stone, John Blackader, and Mynart Eraser, were
taken up and imprisoned. The people expected
full and satisfactory proofs of the guilt of Both-
wel, but were disappointed. The affirmation
of the nobles that they were possessed of evi-
dence which could condemn him, appeared to
be no better than a pretence. Sebastian escaped ;
the other persons were put to the torture, and
sustained it without making any confession that
the nobles could publish. They were con-
demned, however, and executed, as being con-
cerned in the murder. In their dying moments
they protested their innocence. A sanguine hope
was entertained that captain Blackader would
reveal the whole secret at the place of execu-
tion, and a vast multitude of spectators were
present. No information, howe'ver, could be
derived from what he said with regard to the
regicides; but, while he solemnly protested that
his life was unjustly taken away, he averred it
as his belief that the ^arls of Murray and Morton
were the contrivers of the king's murder. The
lords of the secret council now proceeded to the
greatest enormities. They robbed the palace of
Holyrood House of its furniture and decora-
tions ; converted the queen's plate into coin ;
and possessed themselves of her jewels, which
were of great value ; and, while the faction com-
mitted these acts of robbery, the earl of Glen-
cairn with solemn hypocrisy demolished the
altar in the queen's chapel, and defaced and de-
stroyed all its pictures and ornaments. These
excessive outrages, however, lost them the favor
of the people, and an, association was formed in
favor of the queen. The court of France, as
-non a; tin; IK-WS of Mary's imprisonment ar-
rived, ii. -patched M. de Villeroy to condole with
her upon her misfortunes : but the lords of tfie
secret council would not admit him to see ner.
The earl of Murray was at this time in France ;
and to the promises of this treacherous wretch
the king trusted, imagining him to be a steady
friend to the unfortunate queen. Elizabeth also
pretended friendship, and threatened the asso-
ciated lords ; but, as they knew her insincerity,
they paid no regard to her threats, and even re-
fused to admit her ambassador to Mary's pre-
sence. From all these appearances of friendship,
Mary derived no real assistance. On the 24th
of July, 1567, lord Lindsay, whose imperious
behaviour, says Dr. Stuart, approached to infamy,
was ordered by the lords to wait upon the queen
at Lochleven. He carried with him three deeds
or instruments, and was ordered to compel her
to subscribe them. By the first she was to re-
sign her crown to her infant son ; by the second
she appointed the earl of Murray regent of Scot-
land; and, by the third, she constituted a coun-
cil to direct the prince till this nobleman should
arrive in Scotland, or in the event of his death
or refusal of the office. On the part of the queen
all resistance was vain. Sir Robert Melvil as-
sured her that what she did by compulsion, and
in a prison, could not bind her; as did also
Throgmorton, the English ambassador, in a letter
which Sir Robert Melvil brought in the scab-
bard of his sword. Mary, therefore, forlorn and
helpless, could not resist the barbarous rudeness
with which Lindsay pressed the subscription of
the papers, though she would not read them.
Five days after, the lords of the secret council
met at Stirling, for the coronation of the young
prince. A protestation was made, in the name
of the duke of Chatelherault, that this solemnity
should neither prejudge his rights of succession,
nor those of the other princes of the blood. The
young prince being presented to them, the lords
Lindsay andRuthven appeared, and in the name
of the queen renounced in his favor her right and
title to the crown, gave up the papers they had
forced her to subscribe, and surrendered the
sword, sceptre, and royal crown. After the
papers were read, the earls of Morton, Athol,
Glencairn, Mar, and Monteith, with the master
of Graham, the lord Hume, and Bothwel, bishop
of Orkney, received the queen's resignation in
favor of her son in the name of the three estates.
After this formality, the earl of Morton, bending
his body, and laying his hand upon the Scrip-
tures, took the coronation oath for the prince,
engaging that he should rule according to the
laws, and root out all heretics and enemies to the
word of God. Adam Bothwel then anointed
the prince king of Scotland, delivered to him
the sword, and sceptre, and put the crown upon
his head. In the procession to the castle from
the church, where the inauguration was per-
formed, and where John Knox preached the in-
auguration sermon, the earl of Athol carried the
crown, Morton the sceptre, Glencairn the sword,
and the earl of Mar carried the prince in his
arms. The solemnities received no countenance
from Elizabeth ; and Throgmorton, by her ex-
press command, was not present at them.
Soon after this ceremony the earl of Murray
returned from France; and his presence gave
SCOTLAND.
521
such strength to his faction that very little op-
position could be given by the partisans of Mary,
who were desponding for want of a leader. A
.ittle time after his arrival, this monstrous hypo-
crite and traitor waited upon his distressed and
insulted sovereign at Lochleven. His design
was to get her to desire him to accept of the
regency, which he otherwise pretended to de-
cline. The queen, unsuspicious of the deepness
of his arts, conscious of the gratitude he owed
to her, and trusting to his natural affection, and
their tie of a common father, received him with
a tender welcome. She was in haste to pour
forth her soul to him ; and with tears and lamen-
tations related her condition and her sufferings.
I le heard her with attention ; and turned occa-
sionally his discourse to the topics which might
lead her to open to him her mind without dis-
guise, in those situations in which he was most
anxious to observe it; but her distress awakened
not his tenderness. He seemed to be in sus-
pense; and from the guardedness of his conver-
sation she could gather neither hope nor fear.
She begged him to be free with her, as he was
her only friend. He yielded to her entreaties as
if with pain and reluctance ; and, taking a com-
prehensive survey of her conduct, described it
witli all the severity that could affect her most.
He could discover no apology for her misgovern-
ment and disorders ; and, with a mortifying
plainness, he pressed upon her conscience and
her honor. At times she wept bitterly. Some
errors she confessed ; and against calumnies she
warmly vindicated herself. But all she could
urge in her behalf made no impression upon
him ; and he spoke to her of the mercy of God
as her chief refuge. She was torn with appre-
hensions, and nearly distracted with despair.
He dropped some words of consolation ; and,
after expressing an attachment to her interests,
gave her his promise to employ all his conse-
quence to secure her life. As to her liberty, he
told her that to achieve it was beyond all his
efforts ; and that it was not good for her to desire
it. Starting from her seat, she took him in her
arms, and, kissing him as her deliverer from the
scaffold, solicited his immediate acceptance of
the regency. He declared that he had many
reasons to refuse the regency. She conjured him
not to abandon her in the extremity of her
wretchedness. There was no other method, she
said, by which she herself could be saved, her
son protected, and her realm rightly governed.
He gave way to her anxiety and solicitations.
She besought him to make the most unbounded
use of her name and authority, desired him to
keep for her the jewels that yet remained with
her, and recommended it to him to get an early
possession of all the forts of her kingdom. He
now took his leave of her, and, embracing anew
this pious traitor, she sent her blessing with him
to the prince her son. In the mean time the
wi etched earl of Bothwcl was struggling with
the greatest difficulties. Sir William Murray
and Kirkaldy of Grange had put to sea in search
of him. He had been obliged to exercise piracy
for subsistence to himself and his followers. His
pursuers came upon him unexpectedly at the
Orkney Islands, and took three of his ships, but
he himself escaped. Soon after, having seized
a Turkish trader on the coast of Norway, two
ships of war belonging to the king of Denmark
gave chase to him as a pirate. An engagement
ensued, in which Bothwel was taken. His offi-
cers and mariners were hanged in Denmark, but
Bcthwel himself, being known by some Scottish
merchants, had his life spared. He was thrown,
however, into a dungeon, where he remained ten
years ; and at last died melancholy and distract-
ed. The regent sent commissioners to the king
of Denmark to demand him as a prisoner ; but
that prince, considering Murray as a traitor and
usurper, totally disregarded his request. The
dreadful fate of Bothwel did not make any alter-
ation in the situation of the queen. Her ene-
mies, bent on calumniating her, produced letters,
which they said were written and sent by her to
that licentious nobleman during the life of the
king. These letters are now universally admit-
ted to have been forged by the rebels themselves,
who practised likewise upon some servants of
Bothwel to accuse the queen of the murder of
her husband. The letters for some time gained
credit; but the confessions of the servants were
all in her favor. When on the scaffold, they
addressed themselves to the people ; and, after
having solemnly declared the innocence of the
queen, they protested before God and his angels
that the earl of Bothwel had informed them that
the earls of Murray and Morion were the con-
trivers of the king's murder. It was impossible
that such transactions as these could advance the
popularity of the regent. His unbounded ambi-
tion and cruelty to his sovereign began at last to
open the eyes of the nation ; and a party was
forming itself in favor of the queen. She herself
had been often meditating her escape ; and she
at last effected it by means of a young gentle-
man, George Douglas, brother to her keeper,
who had fallen in love with her. On the second
day of May 1568, about 7 P. M. when the
keeper was at supper with his family, George
Douglas, possessing himself of the keys of the
castle, hastened to her apartment, and conducted
her out of prison. Having locked the gates of
the castle, they immediately entered a boat
which waited for them ; and, being rowed across
the lake, lord Seton received the queen with a
chosen band of horsemen in complete armour.
That night he conveyed her to his house of Nid-
drie in West Lothian ; where having rested a
few hours, she set out for Hamilton.
The escape of the queen threw her enemies
into the greatest consternation. Many forsook
the regent openly, and still more made their
submissions privately, or concealed themselves.
He did not, however, despond ; but resolved to
defend himself by force of arms. The queen
soon found herself at the head of 6000 men, and
the regent opposed her with 4000. Mary, how-
ever, did not think it proper to risk a battle ;
but in this prudent resolution she was over-ruled
by the impetuosity of her troops. A battle was
fought on the 13th of May 1568, at Langside,
near Glasgow ; in which Mary's army was de-
feated, and her last hopes blasted. The unfor-
tunate queen fled towards Kirkcudbright, where
she deliberated on the plan she should afterwards
SCOTLAND.
follow. The "result of her deliberations was to
take the worst step possible. Notwithstanding
all the pprfidy which she had found in Eliza-
beth, Mary could not think that she would now
refuse to afford her a refuge in her dominions ;
and therefore determined to retire into England.
To this she had been solicited by Elizabeth her-
self during her confinement in Lochleven castle ;
and she now resolved, in opposition to the advice
of her most faithful counsellors, to make the
fatal experiment. In obedience to her order,
the lord Henries addressed a letter to Mr. Lauder,
the deputy-commander at Carlisle ; and, after
detailing her defeat at Langside, desired to know
if she might trust herself upon English ground.
This officer wrote instantly an answer, that, lord
Scroop the warden of the frontier being absent,
he could not give a formal assurance in a matter
which concerned the state of a queen ; but that
he weuld send by post to his court to know the
pleasure of his sovereign ; and that, if in the
mean time any necessity should force Mary to
Carlisle, he would receive her with joy, and pro-
tect her against her enemies. Mary, however,
before the messenger returned, had embarked in
a fishing boat with sixteen attendants. In a few
hours she landed at Workington in Cumberland,
and thence proceeded to Cockermouth, where
she continued till Mr. Lauder, having assemb-
led the gentlemen of the country, conducted her
with the greatest respect to the castle of Carlisle.
To Elizabeth she announced her arrival in a de-
spatch, which described her late misfortunes in
general and pathetic terms, and in which she
expressed an earnest solicitude to pay her a visit
at her court, and the deep sense she entertained
of her friendship and generosity. The queen of
England, by obliging and polite letters, con-
doled with her upon her situation, and gave her
assurances of all the favor and protection that
were due to the justice of her cause. But, as
they were not accompanied with an invitation to
London, Mary took the alarm. She thought it
expedient to instruct lord Fleming to repair to
France; and she entrusted lord Herries with a
most pressing remonstrance to Elizabeth. Her
anxiety for an interview to vindicate her conduct,
her ability to do so in the most satisfactory man-
ner, and her power to explain the ingratitude,
the crimes, and the perfidy of her enemies, were
urged to this princess. A delay in the state of
her affairs was represented as nearly equivalent
to absolute destruction. An immediate proof
was therefore requested from Elizabeth of the
sincerity of her professions. If she was unwil-
ling to admit into her presence a queen, a rela-
tion, and a (friend, she was reminded, that, as
Mary's entrance into her dominions had been
voluntary, her departure ought to be equally
free and unrestrained. She valued the protec-
tion of the queen of England above that of every
other potentate upon earth ; but, if it could not
be granted, she would solicit the amity, and im-
plore the aid of powers who would commi-
serate her afflictions, and be forward to relieve
them. Mary likewise gave thanks to Elizabeth
for the courtesy with which she had hitherto been
treated in the castle of Carlisle. She also begged
of her to avert the cruelty of the regent from
her adherents, and to engage him not to waste
her kingdom with hostility and ravages ; and she
paid her compliments in an affectionate letter to
secretary Cecil, and asked his kind offices in
extricating her from her difficulties. But the
queen of England was not to be moved by re-
monstrances The offer of Mary to plead her
cause before her, and to satisfy all her scruples,
was rejected. Her disasters were rather a matter
of exultation than of pity. The deliberations of
the English queen, and those of her statesman,
were not directed by maxims of equity, compas-
sion, or generosity. They considered the flight
of Mary into England as an incident that was
fortunate for them; and they were solicitous to
adopt those measures which would enable them
to draw from it the greatest advantage. They
considered all the possible consequences of li-
berating her, of restoring her to her throne, and
of allowing her to remain at liberty in England ;
and how they might affect Scotland, England,
Ireland, and the cause of the Reformation ; and
upon the whole concluded that it was by far the
wisest expedient to keep the queen of Scots in
confinement, to invent methods to augment her
distress, to give countenance to the regent, and
to hold her kingdom in dependence and sub-
jection. In consequence of this cruel and unjust
resolution Mary was acquainted that she could
not be admitted into Elizabeth's presence till
she had cleared herself of the crimes imputed
to her ; she was warned not to think of intro-
ducing French troops into Scotland ; and it was
hinted that for the more security she ought to be
removed farther from the frontier. This mes-
sage showed Mary the imprudence of her con-
duct in trusting herself to Elizabeth; but the
error could not now be remedied. She was
watched to prevent her escape, and all her re-
monstrances were vain. The earl of Murray had
offered to accuse her ; and it was at last con-
cluded that Elizabeth could not, consistently
with her own honor and the tranquillity of her
government, suffer the queen of Scots to come
into her presence, to depart out of England, or
to be restored to her dignity, till her cause should
be tried and decided. An order was given to
remove her from Carlisle castle to a place of
strength at a greater distance from the borders,
to confine her more closely, and to guard against
all possibility of an escape.
In consequence of these extraordinary transac-
tions a trial took place, perhaps the most re-
markable for its injustice of any recorded in
history. Mary, confined and apprehensive, sub-
mitted to be tried. The regent, who was to be
the accuser, was summoned into England, and
commissioners were appointed on both sides.
On the 4th of October the commissioners met at
York ; and, four days after, the deputies of the
queen of Scots were called to make known their
complaints. They related the most material cir-
cumstances of the crnel usage she had received.
Their accusations were an alarming introduction
to the business in which the 'regent had em-
barked; and, notwithstanding the encouragement
shown to him by Elizabeth, he was assaulted by
apprehensions. The artifices of Maitland addel
to his alarms. Instead of proceeding instaniij to
SCOTLAND.
523
defend himself, or to accuse the queen, lie sought
permission to relate his doubts and scruples to
the English commissioners. In his own name,
and with the concurrence of his associates, he
demanded to know whether they had sufficient
authority from Elizabeth to pronounce, in the
case of the murder, Guilty or Not guilty, ac-
cording to the evidence that should be laid before
them ; whether they would actually exercise this
power ; whether, in the event of her criminality,
their sovereign should be delivered to him and
his friends, or detained in England in such a
way as that no danger should ensue from her ac-
tivity; and whether, upon her conviction, the
queen of England would allow his proceedings,
and those of his party, to be proper, maintain
the government of the young king, and support
him in the regency, in the terms of the act of
parliament which had confirmed him in that
office. To these requisitions it was answered,
upon the part of the English deputies, that their
commission was so ample that they could enter
into and proceed with the controversy ; and that
the sovereign would not restore the queen of
Scots to her crown, if satisfactory proofs of her
crime should be produced ; but that they knew
not in what manner she would finally conduct
herself as to her person and punishment. With
regard to the sovereignty of the prince, and the
regency of the earl of Murray, these might be
canvassed in a future period. These replies did
not please the regent and his associates; and
they requested the English commissioners to
transmit their doubts and scruples to be examined
and answered by Elizabeth. But, while the re-
gent discovered in this manner his apprehensions,
he yet affirmed that he was able to answer the
charges imputed to him and his faction ; and,
this being in a great measure a distinct matter
from the controversy of the murder, he was de-
sired to proceed in it. He pretended that Both-
wel, who had the chief concern in the murder of
lord Darnley, possessed such credit with the
queen, that, within three months after that hor-
rible event, he seized her person and led her
captive to Dunbar, obtained a divorce from his
wife, and married her : that the nobility, being
moved with his crimes, did confederate to punish
him, to relieve her from the tyranny of a man
who had ravished her, and who could not be her
husband, and to preserve the life of the prince:
that, having taken arms for these purposes, the
earl marched against them ; but that, proposing
to decide the quarrel by single combat, his chal-
lenge was accepted : that he declined, notwith-
standing, to enter the lists, and fled : that the
queen, preferring his impunity to her own honor,
favored his escape by going over to the nobility :
that they conducted her to Edinburgh, where
they informed her of the motives of their pro-
ceedings, requested her to take the proper steps
against him and the other regicides, and entreated
her to dissolve her marriage, to take care of her
sou, and to consult the tranquillity of her realm :
that this treatment being offensive to her she
menaced them with vengeance, and offered to
surrender her crown, if they would permit her
to possess the murderer of her husband ; that
her inflexible mind, and the necessities of the
state, compelled them to keep her at a distance
from him, and out of the way of a communica-
tion with his adherents: that during her confine-
ment, finding herself appointed with the troubles
of royalty, and unfit for them from vexation of
spirit and the weakness of her body and intellect,
she freely, and of her own will, resigned her
crown to her son, and constituted the earl of
Murray to the regency ; that the king accordingly
had been crowned, and Murray admitted to the
regency ; that, the sanction of the three estates
assembled in parliament having confirmed these
appointments, a universal obedience of the peo-
ple had ensued, and a steady administration of
justice had taken place : that certain persons,
however, envious of the public order and peace,
had brought her out of prison, and had engaged
to subvert the government ; that they had been
disappointed in their wicked attempts ; and that
it was most just and equitable that the king arid
the regent should be supported in power, in op-
position to a rebellious and turbulent faction.
This apology, so imperfect, so impudent, and
so irreconcileable with facts, received a complete
confutation from the deputies of the queen of
Scots. To take arms against her because Both-
wel had her favor was, they said, a lame justifi-
cation of the earl of Murray and his friends;
since it had never been properly manifested to
her that he was the murderer of her husband.
He had indeed been suspected of this crime ; but
had been tried by his peers, and acquitted. His
acquittal had been ratified in parliament, and
had obtained the express approbation of the
party who were now so loud in accusing him,
and who had conspired against her authority.
These rebels had even urged her to accomplish
her marriage with him, had recommended him as
the fittest person to govern the realm, and had
subscribed a bond asserting his innocence, and
binding themselves to challenge and punish all
his adversaries and opponents. They had never,
either before or after the marriage, advertised the
queen of his guilt, till, having experience of their
strength, they secretly took arms, and invested
her in Borthwick castle. The first mark of their
displeasure was the display of warlike banners.
She made her escape to Dunbar ; and they, re-
turning to Edinburgh, levied troops, issued pro-
clamations, took the field against her, under the
pretence of delivering her from his tyranny, and
got possession of her person. She was willing
to prevent the effusion of blood, and was very
far from preferring his impunity to her honor.
Kirkaldy of Grange, in obedience to instructions
from them, desired her to cause him to retire, and
invited her to pass to them under the promise of
being served and obeyed as their sovereign. She
consented, and Kirkaldy advised Bothwel to de-
part, and assured him that no man would pursue
him. It was by their own contrivance that he
fled; and it was in their power to have taken
him ; but they showed not the smallest desire to
make him their prisoner. He remained, too, for
some time in the kingdom, and was unmolested
by them ; and it was not till he was upon the
seas that they affected to go in search of him,
When she surrendered herself, in the sight of their
army, the earl of Morton ratified the stipulations
524
SCOTLAND.
of Kirkaldy, made obeisance to her in their
names, and promised her all the service and
honor which had ever been paid to any of her
predecessors. They were not faithful, however,
to their engagements. They carried her to Edin-
burgh, but did not lodge her in her palace. She
was committed to the house of a burgess, and
treated with the vilest indignities. She indeed
broke out into menaces, and threatened them;
nor was this a matter either of blame or of
wonder. But it was utterly false that she ever
made any offer to give away her crown, if she
might possess Bothwel. In the midst of her
sufferings she had even required them, by secre-
tary Maitland, to specify their complaints, and
besought them to allow her to appear in parlia-
ment, and to join and assist in seeking a remedy
to them from the wisdom of the three estates.
This overture, however, so salutary and submis-
sive, they absolutely rejected. They were ani-
mated by purposes of ambition, and had not in
view a relief from grievances. They forced her
from her capital in the night, and imprisoned her
in Lochleven ; and there they affirm that, being
exhausted with the toils of government and the
languors of sickness, she, without constraint or
solicitation, resigned her crown to her son, and
appointed the earl of Murray to be regent during
his minority. But the truth could neither be
concealed, nor overturned, nor palliated. She
was in the vigor of youth, unassailed by mala-
dies, and without any infirmity that could induce
her to surrender the government of her kingdom.
The earl of Athol and the barons of Tullibardin
and Lethington, principal men of their council,
sent Sir Robert Melvil to her with a ring and
presents, with a recommendation to subscribe
whatever papers should be laid before her, as
the only means to save her life, and with an as-
surance that what she did under captivity could
not operate any injury to her. Melvil, too, com-
municated to her an intimation in writing from
Sir Nicholas Throgmorton, which gave her the
same advice and die same assurance. To Sir
Nicholas Throgmorton she sent an answer, in-
forming him that she would follow his counsel ;
and enjoining him to declare to his mistress her
hapless state, and that her resignation of her
crown was constrained. Nor did this ambassador
neglect her commission ; and it was a popular
persuasion that Elizabeth would have marched
an army to her relief, if she had not been intimi-
dated by the threat of the rebels that the blood
of the queen of Scots would be the wages of her
soldiers. It was also not to be contradicted
that, when lord Lindsay presented to his sove-
reign the instruments of resignation, he menaced
her with a closer prison and a speedy death, if
she should refuse to subscribe them. It was
under an extreme terror, and with many tears,
that she put her name to them. She did not con-
sider them as her deeds ; did not read them ; and
protested that, when she was at liberty, she would
disavow subscriptions which had been extorted
from her. Even Douglas, the keeper of Loch-
leven, could not endure to be a witness of the
violence employed against her. He departed
out of her presence that he might not see her
surrendrr her rights against her will ; and he
sought and obtained from her a certificate thut
he was not accessory to this compulsion and
outrage. Nor did it consist with the slightest
probability that she would, of her own will and
accord, execute a resignation of her royal estate,
and retain no provision for her future mainte-
nance. Yet, by these extraordinary deeds, the
condition to which she was reduced was most
miserable and wretched ; for no portion what-
ever of her revenue was reserved to her, and no
security of any kind was granted either for her
liberty or her life.
As to the coronation of the prince, it could
have no validity, as being founded in a pretended
and forced resignation. It was also defective in
its form ; for there were in Scotland more than
100 earls, bishops, and lords; and of these there
did not assist in it more than four earls, six lords,
one bishop, and two or three abbots. Protesta-
tions, too, were openly made, that nothing trans-
acted at that period should be prejudicial to
the queen, her estate, and the Mood-royal of
Scotland. As to the ratification of the investiture
of the young prince, and the regency of the earl
of Murray by the estates, this was done in an il-
legal parliament. The principal nobility, too,
objected in this parliament to this ratification.
Protestations were made before the lords of the
articles, as well as before the three estates, to in-
terrupt and defeat transactions which were in a
wild hostility to the constitution and the laws.
Neither was it true that the government of the
king and the regent was universally obeyed, and
administered with equity and approbation ; for a
great division of the nobility never acknowledged
any authority but that of the queen, and never
held any courts but in her name ; and it was no-
torious that the administration of the usurpers
had been marked and distinguished by enormous
cruelties and oppressions. Many honorable fami-
lies and loyal subjects had been persecuted to
ruin, and plundered of their wealth, to gratify
the retainers and soldiers who upheld this inso-
lent domination ; and murder and bloodshed,
theft and rapine, were prevalent to a degree un-
heard of for many ages. Upon all these accounts
it was inferred that Elizabeth ought to support
the queen of Scots, to restore her to her crown,
and to overthrow the power of a most unnatural
and rebellious faction. To these facts the re-
gent did not pretend to make any objection;
and, though required by the English commis-
sioners to produce sounder and better reasons for
his treatment of the queen, he did not advance
any thing in his own behalf. He even allowed the
charges of treason and usurpation to be pressed
against him, without presuming to answer. This
surprising behaviour, which might readily have
been construed into .an acknowledgment of his
guilt, proceeded from some conferences which
he had with the duke of Norfolk. This noble-
man was a zealous partizan for the succession of
Mary to the English crown. He was of opi-
nion that his mistress, while she wished to gra-
tify her animosity and jealousies against the
queen of Scots, was secretly resolved, by fixing
a stain upon her, to exckide her from t!ie suc-
cession, and to involve her son in her (li»_rr .10.-
He wa> isiger to defeat a purpose which he con
SCOTLAND.
525
ceived to be not only unjust in itself, but highly
detrimental to his country ; and he observed with
pleasure that Maitland of Lethington was favor-
able to Mary. To this statesman he expressed
his surprise that the regent could think of an
attempt so blameable as that of criminating his
sovereign. If Mary had really given offence, by
mistakes, it yet was not the business of a good
subject industriously to hold her out to scorn.
Anxious and repeated conferences were held by
them ; and at length it was formally agreed
that the regent should not accuse the queen of
Scots ; and that the duke in return should pro-
tect him in the favor of Elizabeth, and secure
him in the possession of his regency. But, while
the regent engaged himself in this intrigue with
the duke of Norfolk, he was still desirous of
gratifying the resentments of Elizabeth, and of
advancing his own interests by undermining
secretly the reputation of his sovereign. He in-
structed Maitland, George Buchanan, James
Macgill, and John Wood, to go to the duke of
Norfolk, the earl of Sussex, and Sir Ralph Sad-
ler, and to communicate to them, as private per-
sons, and not in their character of commissioners,
the letters to Bothvvel, and the other proofs upon
which he affirmed the guilt of the queen of Scots.
He desired that they would examine these pa-
pers, give their opinion of them to Elizabeth,
and inform him whether she judged them suffi-
cient evidences of Mary's concern in the murder
of her husband. If this should be her opinion,
he testified his own readiness, and that of his
associates, to swear that the papers were genuine,
and of the hand-writing of the queen. By this
operation, he was solicitous to establish his
vouchers as incontestable, and as testimonies of
record.
The commissioners examined his papers, and
heard the comments of Buchanan and his other
assistants; but they do not seem to have be-
stowed credit upon them. They described
them, however, to Elizabeth; pointed out the
places of them which were strongest against
Mary ; and allowed that their force and mean-
ing were very great if genuineness could be de-
monstrated. But of their genuineness they
acknowledged that they had no other evidence
than stout assertions, and the offer of oaths.
The earl of .Sussex, in a private despatch to
secretary Cecil, does more than insinuate, that
he thought Mary would be able to prove the
letters palpable forgeries ; and, with respect to
the murder of the king, he declares in plain
terms, that, from all he could learn, Murray and
his faction would, upon a judicial trial, be found
by ' proofs hardly to be denied,' more criminal
in that charge than the queen. Elizabeth and
her ministers, upon the receipt of such de-
spatches, did not think it expedient to empower
them to adopt a method of proof so palpably
suspicious, and in which she could not openly
toncur, without grossly violating even the ap-
pearance of probity. The regent had before at-
tempted to engage her in a direct assurance of
fie validity of his papers, when he submitted
copies of them to her inspection by his secretary,
Mr. Wood. His attempt at this juncture was
-similar. Nor were these the only transactions
which took place during the continuance of the
commissioners at York. The inventive genius
of Lethington had suggested to him a project,
which he communicated in confidence to the
bishop of Ross. It received the warm approba-
tion of this ecclesiastic ; and they determined to
put it to a trial. While they attended the duke
of Norfolk to the diversion of hawking, the}
suggested to him a marriage with the queen of
Scots. Her beauty, her accomplishments, and
her kingdom, were high allurements, and as he
was the greatest subject of England, perhaps of
Europe, he seemed not to be unworthy of them
The proposal was very flattering to the admira-
tion he entertained of Mary, to his ambition,
and to his patriotism. The more he thought of
it, he was the more convinced of its propriety.
His access to be informed of the practices of the
regent destroyed in him the operations of those
slanders by which her enemies were so active to
traduce her. In this state of his mind, the lady
Scroop, his sister, who resided at Bolton Castle
with Mary, completely confirmed his resolution.
For from her he learned the orderly carnage and
the amiable dispositions of the queen of Scots.
He was now impatient to make her the offer of
his hand. Elizabeth in the mean time was
thrown into confusion by the refusal of the re-
gent to accuse the queen of Scots. To give a
positive answer to his doubts and scruples was
not consistent with her honor ; and yet, without
this condescension, she was assured that the
Scottish deputies would not exhibit their charge
of crimination. Having deceived Mary, there-
fore, with fair promises, she was active in gain-
ing the regent over to her views , which having
done, he consented at last to prefer his accusa-
tion against Mary before the commisioners, who
now met at Westminster by her command.
The charge was expressed in general and pre-
sumptive terms. It affirmed that as James, earl
of Bothwel, was the chief executor of the mur-
der of king Henry, so the queen was his per-
suader and counsel in the device ; that she was
a maintainer and fortifier of this unnatural deed,
by stopping the inquisition into it and its punish-
ment, and by taking in marriage the principal
regicide; that they had begun to exercise a cruel
tyranny in the commonwealth, and had formed
a resolution of destroying the innocent prince,
and of transferring the crown from the true line
of its kings to a bloody murderer, and a godless
tyrant ; and that the estates of the realm, finding
her unworthy to reign, had ordered her to resign
the crown ; her son to be crowned, and the earl
of Murray to be established in the regency. Be-
fore this accusation was preferred the earl of
Lennox presented himself before the English
commissioners ; made a lamentable declaration
of his griefs, and produced to them the letters
which had passed between him and Mary con-
cerning the murder, with a writing which con-
tained a direct affirmation of her guilt. The
deputies of Mary were astonished at this accu-
sation, being a violent infringement of a pro-
testation which they had formerly given in, and
which had been accepted, namely, that the
crown, estate, person, and honor of the queen of
Scots, should be guarded against every assault
526
SCOTLAND.
and injury ; yet in all these particulars she was
now injured. It was understood that no judi-
cial proceedings should take place against her;
yet she was actually arraigned as a criminal,
and her deputies were called upon to defend her.
They denied, however, the validity of the
charge ; and, while they fully explained the mo-
tives which actuated the earl of Murray and his
faction in their proceedings, they imputed to
persons among themselves the guilt of the king's
murder. They affirmed that the queen's adver-
saries were the accomplices of Bothwel ; that
they had subscribed a bond conspiring the death
of the king ; and that their guilt had been at-
tested, in the sight of 10,000 spectators, by
those of their confederates who had already been
executed. They exclaimed against the enor-
mous ingratitude, and the unparalleled audacity
of men, who could forget so completely all the
obligations which they owed to their sovereign ;
and who, not satisfied with usurping her power,
could even charge her with a murder which they
themselves had committed. They represented
the strong necessity which had arisen for the
fullest vindication of their mistress ; and they
said, that in so weighty an extremity they could
not suppose that she would be restrained from
appearing in her own defence. They had her
instructions, if her honor was touched, to make
this requisition ; and, till it was granted, they in-
sisted that all proceedings in the conference
should be at an end. A refusal of this liberty,
in the situation to which she was driven, would
be an infallible proof that no justice was in-
tended to her. It was their wish to deal with
sincerity ; and they were persuaded that, without
a proper freedom of defence, their queen would
full a victim to partiality and injustice. They
therefore earnestly pressed the English commis-
sioners that she might be permitted to present
herself before Elizabeth, the nobles of England,
and the ambassadors of foreign nations, to
manifest to the world the injuries she had suf-
fered, and her innocence. After having made
these spirited representations to the English
commissioners, the deputies of Mary desired to
have access to the queen of England. They
were admitted accordingly to an audience ; and,
in a formal address, they detailed what had hap-
pened, insisted that the liberty of personal de-
fence should be allowed to their mistress, and
demanded that the earl of Murray and his asso-
ciates should be taken into custody, till they should
answer to such charges as should be preferred
against them. She desired to have some time to
turn her thoughts to matters of such high impor-
tance ; and told them that they might soon expect
to hear from her. The bishop of Ross, and the
otherMeputies of Mary, in the mean time, struck
with the perfidious management of the conference,
convinced of the jealousies and passions of Eli-
zabeth, sensible that her power over her com-
missioners was unlimited, and anxious for the
deliverance of their mistress, made an overture
for an accommodation to the earl of Leicester
and Sir William Cecil. They proposed that the
original meaning of the conference should still
be adhered to, notwithstanding the accusation
presented by the earl of Murray ; and that Eli-
zabeth, disregarding it as an effort of faction,
should proceed to a good agreement between
Mary and her subjects. For this scheme, they
had no authority from their mistress, but they
were moved to it by their anxiety for peace and
the re -establishment of the affairs of the Scottish
nation. They were introduced at Hampton-
court to Elizabeth ; who listened to their motion
and was averse from it. They then repeated
the desires of the petition they had presented to
her ; but she did not think it right that the
queen of Scots should yet have the liberty to
defend herself in person. She confessed, in-
deed, that it was reasonable that Mary should be
heard in her own cause ; but she affirmed that
she was at a loss at what time she should appear,
at what place, and to whom she should address
herself. While she expressed, however, the hope
that Mary might obtain the permission so re-
peatedly and so earnestly requested, she said
that the earl of Murray should first be heard in
support of his charge, and that she should at-
tend to the proofs which he said he was ready
to produce. After this business should be trans-
acted, she told the deputies of Mary that she
would again confer with them. It was to no
purpose that they objected to a procedure so
strange. An accusation, said they, is given ; the
person accused is anxious to defend herself; this
privilege is denied to her ; and yet a demand is
to be made for the vouchers of her guilt. What
was this but an open violation of justice ? They
would not, therefore, consent to a measure which
was so alarming to the interests of their queen ;
and, if it was adopted, a protest against its vali-
dity would be lodged with her commissioners.
The English commissioners resumed the con-
ference, and were about to demand from the earl
of Murray the proofs with which he could sup-
port his accusation. The bishop of Ross and
his associates, being admitted to them, expressed
themselves in conformity to the conversation
they had with Elizabeth. They declared that it
was unnatural and preposterous in their sove-
reign to think of receiving proofs of the guilt of
the queen of Scots, before she was heard in her
own defence ; and they protested that, in the
event of this proceeding, the negociation should
be dissolved, and Elizabeth be disarmed of all
power to do any prejudice to her honor, person,
crown, and estate. The commissioners of the
English queen were affected with this protesta-
tion, and felt more for the honor of their mis-
tress than for their own. They refused to re-
ceive it, because there were engrossed in it
the words of the refusal which Elizabeth had
given to the petition for Mary. They did not
choose to authenticate the terms of this refusal
by their subscriptions ; and were solicitous to
suppress so palpable a memorial of her iniquity.
They alleged that the language of her refusal
had not been taken down with accuracy ; and
they pressed Mary's deputies to present a simpler
form of protestation. The bishop of Ross and
his colleagues yielded not, however, immediately
to their insidious importunity ; but, repeating
anew their protestations as they had at first
planned it, included the express words of Eliza-
beth ; and, when compelled by the power of the
SCOTLAND.
527
commissioners to expunge the language of the
English queen, they still insisted upon their pro-
testation. An interruption was thus given to
the validity of any future proceedings which
might affect the reputation of the queen of Scots.
The earls of Murray and Morton, with their
friends, were very much disappointed. For they
had solaced themselves with the hope of a
triumph before there was a victory ; and thought
of obtaining a decree from Elizabeth, which,
while it should pronounce the queen of Scots to
be an adulteress and a murderer, would exalt
them into the station and character of virtuous
men and honorable subjects. Though the con-
ference ought naturally to have terminated upon
this protestation of the deputies of Mary against
the injustice of Elizabeth, yet it did not satisfy
the latter princess that the accusation only had
been delivered to her commissioners ; she was
seriously disposed to operate a judicial produc-
tion of its vouchers. The charge would thus have
a more regular aspect, and be a sounder founda-
tion upon which to build not only the infamy of
the Scottish queen, but her own justification for
the part she had acted. Her commissioners ac-
cordingly, after the bishop of Ross and his col-
leagues had retired, disregarding their protesta-
tion, called upon the earl of Murray and his
associates to make their appearance. The pre-
tence, however, employed for drawing from him
liis papers, was sufficiently artful, and bears the
marks of that systematic duplicity which so
shamefully characterises all the transactions of
Elizabeth at this period. Sir Nicholas Bacon, the
lord keeper, addressed himself to the earl of
Murray. He said that, in the opinion of the
queen of England, it was a matter surprising
and strange that he should accuse his sovereign
of a crime most horrible, odious to God and man,
against law and nature ; and which, if proved to
be true, would render her infamous in all the
kingdoms of the world. But though he had so
•widely forgot his duty, yet had not Elizabeth re-
nounced her love of a good sister, a good neigh-
bour, and a good friend ; and it was her will that
he and his company should produce the papers
by which they imagined they were able to main-
tain their accusation. The earl of Murray, in his
turn, was not wanting in dissimulation. He ex-
pressed himself to be very sorry for the high dis-
pleasure he had given to Elizabeth by his charge
against Mary, and for the obstinacy of the Scot-
tish queen and her deputies, which made it
necessary for him to vindicate himself by disco-
vering her dishonor. Under the load of this
double and affected sorrow, he made an actual
and formal exhibition of the vouchers by which
he pretended to fix and establish her criminality.
A particular notice of these extraordinary
vouchers the reader will find in our life of MARY,
and in the works there referred to. To enume-
rate all the shifts to which Elizabeth and the ad-
versaries of Mary were put, to make the strange
evidence that was produced wear some degree of
plausibility, would far exceed our bounds. It is
sufficient to say that, after having wearied
themselves with prevarication and falsehood ;
after havingr pressed Mary to abdicate her crown,
a requisition with which she never would com-
ply ; and after having finally refused to hear her
in her own defence ; Elizabeth, on the 10th Ja-
nuary, 1569, gave leave to the earl of Murray
and his accomplices to depart her dominions
telling them that, since they came into England,
nothing had been objected to them which could
hurt their honor as men, or affect their allegiance
as subjects. At the same time she told them
that they had produced no information or evi-
dence, by which she was entitled to con-
ceive any bad opinion of the queen of Scots.
It was therefore her pleasure to allow the af-
fairs of Scotland to continue precisely in the
same condition in which they were at the be-
ginning of the conference. Three days after
this they formally took their leave of the queen
of England. The deputies of Mary remonstrated,
protested, and argued to no purpose ; the Eng-
lish privy council, with the most provoking in-
difference, told them that ' the earl of Murray
had promised to their sovereign, for himself and
his company, to return to England at any time
she should call upon him. But, in the mean
time, the queen of Scots could not, for many
strong reasons, be suffered to take her departure
out of England. As to her deputies, they
would move' Elizabeth to allow them to return to
Scotland ; and they believed that she would not
detain them.'
Mary was exceedingly disappointed and cha-
grined by this singular issue of her cause. Her
friends during this period had increased, and
the cruel and injurious treatment she had met
with was so flagrant that the earl of Murray and
his faction were apprehensive of a sudden reverse
of fortune. The earls of Argyle andHuntly pro-
tested against the injustice of their proceedings, at
the same time that they openly accused the
earl of Murray and Maitland of Lethington as
the associates of Bothwel in the murder of the
king. This charge, according to the custom of
the times, they offered to prove by the law of
arms; and they protested that, if their adversa-
ries should delay to answer the challenge, they
should be held as confessing themselves guilty of
the murder. Elizabeth, however, foreseeing
something of this kind, had dismissed Murray
and his adherents with precipitation, so that there
could now be no formal production of it before
the English commissioners. However, it was
known and published in the court of Elizabeth.
Murray made an evasive reply, and Lethington
made none at all. This, however, afforded no
relief to the unhappy queen of Scotland. Her
inveterate and treacherous enemy held her fast,
and endeavoured, by every method in her power,
to render her life miserable. Mary, on the other
hand, never lost either her spirit or dignity. She
attempted to rouse in the minds of her nobles
that passion for liberty which had once so much
distinguished the Scottish nation, but which
now seemed to be exchanged for a servile sub-
jection to the queen of England. But, some
despatches which pressed these topics being
intercepted, Mary was removed from Bolton to
Tutbury castle, where she was entrusted to the
earl of Shrewsbury, and committed to closer
confinement than she had yet experienced ; while
Elizabeth dispersed manifestoes all ovei the
528
SCOTLAND.
northern counties, of Kngland, complaining of
reports injurious to her honor, and disclaiming
all hostile intentions towards the liberties of
Scotland. In the mean time Murray returned
to Scotland, where he took every method to es-
tablish himself in his ill-acquired power. M;uy
had commanded the duke of Chatelherault to
return to Scotland, to raise forces for her behoof;
but this nobleman had been long detained in
England by the artifices of Elizabeth, so that
Murray had arrived there before him. The duke,
however, began to raise forces, and might have
proved a troublesome antagonist, had not Mur-
ray deceived him by a pretended negociation,
and got him into his power ; immediately after
which he imprisoned him, and forced most of
the other lords who were on that side to submit.
When the news of this important event reached
the queen of Scots, she instructed the bishop of
Ross to repair to Elizabeth, and to make re-
monstrances in their behalf. By the agency of
this ecclesiastic, whom she had constituted her
ambassador, she meant to conduct her transac-
tions with the queen of England ; and, from the
conclusion of the conferences, she had been me-
ditating a proper plan upon which to accomplish
her liberty and restoration. The bishop of Ross,
after complaining loudly of the rigorous proceed-
ings of the regent, and intimating the general
belief which prevailed that he was supported by
the English court, pressed the propriety of a
final settlement of the affairs of his mistress.
With this view, he was admitted by Elizabeth
and her privy counsellors to frequent conferences ;
and they even desired him to present to them in
writing the articles which he was commanded
to propose as the foundation of a treaty. He
failed not to comply with this injunction ; and it
was the import of his schedule of agreement that
Mary should engage never to molest Elizabeth,
and the lawful heirs of her body, respecting the
succession to the crown of England and Ireland, if
she could obtain sufficient security, that upon
their demise her rights would be respected ; that
a new treaty of alliance and friendship should
be concluded between the two queens, by the
advice of the estates of both kingdoms ; that
this league should be ratified by their oaths and
seals, and confirmed by parliamentary acts ; and,
if any farther assurance should be deemed neces-
sary on the part of Mary, that she would procure
the kings of France and Spain to be the guaran-
tees of lier punctuality and concord ; that in com-
pliance with the pleasure of Elizabeth, she would
extend her clemency to all her subjects who had
offended her, under the provision that they would
submit to her sovereignty, deliver up the prince her
son, restore her castles, give back her jewels, and
surrender to her friends and servants the estates
and possessions of which they had been deprived ;
that the murder of the king should be punished
against all the actors in it without delay, and ac-
cording to the laws ; that, to prevent Bothwel from
returning to Scotland, and to please those who
imagined that it was in his power to excite ferments
and trouble, she would be bound to institute a
process of divorce against him ; and that, these
articles being adjusted, the queen of England
should allow her to proceed to Scotland, under a
safe and honorable convoy, to be re-established
by the three estates in her realm and srovernment,
and to be gratified with the dissolution of all
the acts and statutes which had been passed to
her prejudice. These heads of alliance were
receired with a respect and cordiality which
were not usually paid to the transactions of
Mary in the court of Klizabeth ; and the bishop of
Ross was elated with expectation. Their justice,
however, was not the sole, or even the chief,
cause of this attention and complaisance. A
combination of the English nobles had taken
place against Cecil, whose power and credit
were objects of indignation and jealousy ; and
the duke of Norfolk had been active and suc-
cessful in promoting the scheme of his marriage
with the queen of Scots.
Taking advantage of the condition of parties,
he had practised with the principal nobility to
encourage his pretensions to Mary ; and he se-
cretly communicated to them the promises of
support he had received from the earl of Murray.
By the advice and influence of Sir Nicholas
Throgmorton, he engaged in his behalf the earl
of Leicester, and this nobleman imparted the
matter to the earls of Pembroke and Arundel.
The duke himself was able to conciliate the fa-
vor of the earls of Derby, Bedford, Shrewsbury,
Southampton, Northarr pton, Northumberland,
Westmoreland, and Sussex. In the mean time
he was eagerly pressing Mary herself with his
suit and importunities ; and they had mutually
exchanged the tokens of a constant and sincere
love. It was in this forward state of the match
that the bishop of Ross drew up his schedule of
articles for the accommodation of the riv.il
queens. At the desire of Elizabeth, her privy
council conferred with the bishop upon these
articles at different times ; and they expressed
themselves to be highly pleased with their general
import and meaning. Little doubt was enter-
tained of their success ; and the earl of Leicester,
to complete the business, and to serve the duke
of Norfolk, undertook to give them a more spe-
cial force, and to improve them by the introduc-
tion of a stipulation about the marriage of the
queen of Scots. According to his scheme of
agreement, it was required of Mary that she
should be a party to no attempt against the rights
and titles of the queen of England or her heirs ;
that she should consent to a perpetual league,
offensive and defensive, between the two king-
doms; that she should finally establish the Pro-
testant religion in Scotland ; that she should ad-
mit to her favor those of her subjects who had
appeared against her ; that if she had made any
assignment of her kingdom to the duke of An-
jou, in the expectation of a marriage to be
contracted between them, it should be dissolved ;
and that instead of looking to a foreign prince
whose alliance would be dangerous not only to
the religion but to the liberty of the two realms,
she would agree to marry the duke of Norfolk,
the first peer of Eng.and. These arficles being
communicated to the bishop of Ross, he was de-
sired to transmit them to Mary; but, as they
touched upon some points concerning which he
had no instructions, he declined this office, and
recommended to employ a special messenger
SCOTLAND.
529
rf their own in a commission of such high im-
portance. They accordingly appointed Mr.
I 'mulish to go with them to the queen of Scots,
and, in a formal despatch, they extolled the
merits of the duke of Norfolk ; assured her of
the general favor and support of the English no-
bility, if she should approve of his love ; and in-
timated their belief that Elizabeth would not be
averse from a marriage which gave the certain
promise of tranquillity and happiness to the two
kingdoms. This despatch was in the hand-
writing of Leicester ; and it was subscribed by
this nobleman, and the earls of Arundel and
Pembroke, and lord Lumley. Mary, in the so-
litude of her prison, received this application
with pleasure. By the lord Boyd she returned
a very favorable answer to it ; but took the
liberty to admonish them of the necessity of
their securing the good-will of Elizabeth, lest
her dislike of the treaty of the marriage should
excite new disasters, and involve the duke of
Norfolk in danger. This advice, the suggestion
of her delicacy and prudence, did not draw suf-
ficiently their attention. The duke of Norfolk
was now impatient to conclude this great trans-
action in which he had engaged himself; and
admitted into his counsels many nobles whom
he had hitherto neglected to court, and many
gentlemen who were considerable from their
distinction and fortunes. The countenance
and consent of the kings of France and Spain
were thought necessary to the measures in agi-
tation, and were solicited and obtained. In the
universality of the applause with which they
were honored, it was supposed that Elizabeth
would be allured into a cordial acknowledg-
ment of their propriety, or be compelled to
afford them a reluctant approbation ; and so
ardent a belief prevailed of their fortunate termi-
nation that the marriage-contract was actually
entrusted to the keeping of M. Fenelon, the
French ambassador. The activity of the duke of
Norfolk with the English nobles did not so
much engross his attention as to make him for-
get the regent. He kept up with him a close
correspondence in consequence of the concert into
which they had entered, and received the most
ample assurances of his fidelity and service.
The most sanguine and seducing hopes elated
him. The regent, while he stipulated for terms
of favor and security to himself and his faction,
appeared to be full of the marriage, as a measure
from which the greatest advantages would arise
to the two kingdoms, to the two queens, and to
the true religion. The match, in the meanwhile,
was anxiously concealed from I^lizabeth ; but
she was zealously pressed to conclude an accom-
modation with Mary, on the foundation of the
schedule of agreement presented by the bishop
of Ross. After having had many conferences
with her privy-council, she seemed inclined to
treat definitively for the restoration of the queen
of Scots, and actually agreed to open the trans-
action to the regent. Lord Boyd was sent into
Scotland upon this business ; and, while he car-
ried her letters, he was intrusted.with despatches
from Mary, the duke of Norfolk, and Sir Nicho-
las Throgmorton. As the regent was returning
from his northern expedition, he was saluted at
VOL. XIX.
Elgin by lord Boyd, who immediately laid be-
fore him the despatches and instructions with
which he had been charged. The queen of Eng-
land, in her letters, made three propositions in
behalf of Mary, and intimated a desire that one
of them should be accepted. The queen of
Scots, she said, might be restored fully and ab-
solutely to her royal estate ; she might be asso-
ciated in the government with her son, have the
title of queen, and, till the prince should attain
the age of seventeen years, the administration
might continue in the regent ; or she might be
permitted to return to Scotland in a private sta-
tion, and have an honorable appointment to
maintain her in a safe and happy obscurity.
The despatches from Mary to the regent de-
sired that judges might immediately be allowed
to enquire into the legality of her marriage with
Bothwel ; and that, if it was found to have been
concluded in opposition to the laws, it should be
declared void, and that the liberty be granted to
her of entering anew into a matrimonial engage-
ment. The duke of Norfolk expressed to the
regent the gratitude he felt for his friendship;
promised him the command of the fullest exer-
tions of his consequence and power ; entreated
him to proceed expeditiously in promoting the
business of the marriage, and referred him to the
instructions of lord Boyd for a satisfactory answer
to any doubts which might give him disgust or
uneasiness. By the letters of Throgmorton, the
regent was advertised that the marriage of the
queen of Scots with the duke of Norfolk was
a certain and decided point; and he was coun-
selled to concur heartily and expeditiously in
this transaction, that his consent might not seem
to have been extorted. Maitland of Lething-
ton was recommended to him by this states-
man as the person whom he should choose to
represent him in the English court, as he could
negociate best the terms and mode of his security
and that of his party. The zeal of Throgmorton
induced him also upon this occasion to address
to Maitland a despatch, in which he was impor-
tunate to hasten his expedition to England, in
the character to which he recommended him.
He complimented him as the fittest person to
open the match to the English queen, on the
part of the regent and the Scottish nobility ;
and he represented the success of the scheme
to be infallible, as Elizabeth would never be
so unwise as to put her own safety, the peace
of her kingdom, and the preservation of her
people, in competition with the partial devices
that might proceed from the vanity and th«
passions of any person whatsoever. He enume-
rated the names of the English nobility who had
confederated to promote the marriage. He en-
larged upon it as an expedient full of wisdom,
and as advantageous in the highest degree to re-
ligion and the state. He pointed out the lasting
and inseparable connexion of England and Scot-
land, as its happy and undoubted consequence.
For, if James VI. should die, the sceptres of the
two kingdoms should devolve to an English
prince ; and, if he should attain to manhood, he
might marry the daughter of the duke of Nor-
folk, and unite in his person the two crowns.
These weighty despatches employed fully lh0
' 2 M
630
SCOTLAND
thoughts of the regent. The calls of justice and
humanity were loud in the behalf of Mary; his
engagements to Norfolk were precise and defini-
tive ; and the commission of Elizabeth afforded
him the command of the most important services.
But, on the other hand, the restoration of Mary
and her marriage would put an end for ever to
his greatness ; and, amidst all the stipulations
which could be made for his protection, the
enormity of his guilt was still haunting him with
suspicions and terror. His ambition and his
selfish sensibilities were an overmatch for his
virtue. He practised with his partisans to throw
obstacles in the way of the treaty and the mar-
riage ; and, on the pretence of deliberating con-
cerning the restoration of Mary, and on her
divorce from Bothwel, a convention of the es-
tates was summoned by him to assemble at
1'erth. To this assembly the letters of Elizabeth
were recited ; and her propositions were consi-
dered in their order. The full restoration of
Mary to her dignity was accounted injurious to
the authority of the king, and her association
with her son in the government was judged im-
proper and dangerous ; but it was thought that
her deliverance from prison, and her reduction
to a private station, were reasonable expedients.
No definitive decree, however, was pronounced.
The letters of Mary were then communicated to
tin's council, and gave rise to vehement debates.
She had written and subscribed them in her cha-
racter of queen of Scotland. This carriage was
termed insolent and imperious by the friends of
the regent. They also held it unsafe to examine
her requests till they should be communicated to
Elizabeth. The favorers of Mary engaged that,
while the commissaries were proceeding in the
business of the divorce, new despatches in the
proper method should be applied for and pro-
cured. They were heard with evident symptoms
of displeasure ; on which they exclaimed ' that
it was wonderful to them that those very persons
who lately had been so violent for the separation
of the queen and Bothwel, should now be so
averse from it.' The partizans of the regent re-
plied ' that, if the queen was so eagerly solicit-
ous to procure the divorce, she might apply to
the king of Denmark to execute Bothwel, as the
murderer of her husband ; and that then she
might marry the person who was most agreeable
10 her.' The passions of the two factions were
inflamed to a most indecent extremity, and the
convention broke up with strong marks of hosti-
lity. Notwithstanding the caution with which
Mary and Norfolk carried on their intrigues, in-
timations of them had come to Elizabeth. Nor-
folk himself, by the advice of the earl of Pem-
broke, had ventured to disclose his secret to Sir
William Cecil, who affected to be friendly to
him. The regent, in answer to her letters, trans-
mitted to her the proceedings of the convention at
Perth. The application of Mary for a divorce
i key to the ambitious hopes of the duke of
Norfolk. He commanded Sir William Cecil to
apply himself to discover the conspiracy. This
statesman betrayed the confidence with which he
h;d been entrusted; and Elizabeth, while the
duke was attending her at Farnham, discovering
mixfire of pleasantry and passion, admonished
him to be careful on what pillow he reposed his
head. The earl of Leicester, alarmed by his fears,
revealed to her atTitchfield the whole proceedings
of the duke of Norfolk and his friends. Her fury
was ungovernable ; and, at different times, she
loaded Norfolk with the severest reproaches and
contumely for presuming to think of a marriage
with the queen of Scots without her concurrence.
Insulted with her discourse and her looks, aban-
doned by Leicester, and avoided by other nobles
in whom he had confided, his courage forsook
him. He left the court at Southampton without
taking leave, and went to London to the earl of
Pembroke. New intimations of her displeasure
were announced to him, and he retired to his
seat at Kinninghall in Norfolk. His friends
pressed him to take the field, and to commit his
safety to the sword ; but, having no inclination
to involve his country in the miseries of war, he
rejected their advice ; and, addressing an apo-
logy to Elizabeth, protested that he never meant
to depart from the fidelity which he owed to her ;
and that it was his fixed resolution to have ap-
plied for her consent to his marriage with the
queen of Scots. In return she ordered him to
repair to her court at Windsor ; and, as he ap-
peared to be irresolute, a messenger was de-
spatched to take him into custody. He was first
confined to the house of Paul Wentworth, at
Burnham, in the neighbourhood of Windsor,
and then committed to the Tower. The earls of
Pembroke and Arundel, lord Lumley, Sir Nicho-
las Throgmorton, and the bishop of Ross, were
also apprehended and confined.
Elizabeth, amidst the ferment of her inquie-
tudes, gratified her revenge by insulting tin-
queen of Scots. The earl of Huntingdon, who
affected to have pretensions to the crown of
Scotland preferable to those of the Scottish prin-
cess, was joined with the earl of Shrewsbury in
the office of guarding her. His instructions were
rigorous and he was disposed to exceed them.
The earl of Shrewsbury considered it as an in-
dignity to have an associate who was a declared
enemy to his charge, who had an interest in her
death, and who was remarkable for a natural
ferocity of disposition. Mary exclaimed against
the indelicacy and rudeness of Elizabeth, and
protested that all her intentions were commenda-
ble and innocent. Huntingdon took a delight in
her sufferings. He ransacked her coffers with a
view of making discoveries ; but her prudence
had induced her to destroy all the evidences
of her transactions with the duke of Norfolk ;
and the officious assiduity of this jailor %v;is
only rewarded with two cyphers which he could
not comprehend. The domestics whom she
favored were suspected and dismissed. Her
train of attendants was diminished. An unre-
lenting watch was kept upon her. No couriers
were allowed to carry her despatches. No mes-
sengers were admitted to her presence; and all
the letters from her friends were ordered to be
intercepted, and conveyed to the queen of Eng-
land. The proceedings of the convention at Perth
were afflicting to Elizabeth, to Mary, and to the
duke of Norfolk. In the former they created
suspicions of the regent ; and they were a certain
annunciation to the latter that he was resolved
SCOTLAND.
531
to support himself in the government of Scotland.
Uncertain rumors had reached Elizabeth of the
interviews he had held with Norfolk in the busi-
ness of the marriage. Mr. Wood, who brought
from the regent his answer to her letter, was
treated with disrespect. Secretary Cecil sent
instructions to lord Hudson, the governor of
Berwick, to watch his operations. Elizabeth, by
a special envoy, required from him an explana-
tion of his ambiguous carriage. The regent
apologised to her for his connexions with the
duke of Norfolk, by laying open the design of
that nobleman to cut him off, in his way to
Scotland, by a full communication of whatever
had passed between them in relation to Mary,
and by offers of an unlimited submission and
obedience. While the duke of Norfolk was car-
rying on his intrigues with Mary, the scheme of
an insurrection for her deliverance was advanc-
ing under the direction of the earls of Northum-
berland and Westmoreland. Motives of religion
were the chief foundation of this conspiracy;
and the more zealous catholics over England
were concerned in it. Mary, however, by the
advice of the duke of Norfolk, who was afraid of
her matching with a foreign prince, did not enter
into it with cordiality. It advanced notwith-
standing ; and the agents of the pope were lavish
of exhortations and donatives. The duke of
Alva, by the order of his master the king of
Spain, encouraged the conspirators with the offer
of 20,000 men from the Netherlands ; and, under
the pretence of adjusting commercial disputes,
lie sent to England Chiapini Yitelli, marquis of
Celona, an officer of ability, that he might be at
hand, and prepare to take the command of them
The report of an insurrection was universal. Eli-
zabeth kept an army of 15,000 men near her
person. The queen of Scots was removed to
Coventry, a place of strength; and, if a superior
and commanding force should appear before it,
her ferocious keeper had orders to assassinate
her. Repeated commands were sent to the earls
of Northumberland and Westmoreland to repair
to court. But the imprisonment of the duke of
Norfolk and his friends had struck a panic into
them. They conceived that their conspiracy
was discovered ; and, putting themselves at the
head of their followers, they issued their mani-
festo. The restoration of popery, the establish-
ment of the titles of Mary to the English crown,
and the reformation of abuses in the common-
wealth, were the avowed objects of their enter-
prise. But they had embarked in a business for
which they were altogether unequal. Their
efforts were feeble and desultory. The duke of
Alva forgot his promises. Wherever the peace
was disturbed by insurgents, there were troops
to oppose them. The vigilance of Elizabeth
disconcerted with ease the operations of men
whom no resources or popularity could have
conducted to greatness, and who could neither
conquer nor die. The earl of V.'estmoreland,
after concealing himself for some time in Scot-
land, effected ap escape into Flanders, where he
passed a miserable and useless existence ; and
the earl of Northumberland, being taken by the
regent, was imprisoned in the castle of Loch-
leven. As the fury of Elizabeth abated, her re-
sentment to the duke of Norfolk lost its power:
and she failed not to distinguish between the
intrigues of an honorable ambition, and the prac-
tices of an obstinate superstition. It was the
result of the examination of this nobleman, and
of the confessions of the other prisoners, that
Lethington had schemed the business of the
marriage, and that the earl of Murray had en-
couraged it ; that her consent was understood to
be necessary to its completion ; and that Mary
herself had warmly recommended the expedient
of consulting her pleasure. Upon receiving
proper admonitions, the earls of Pembroke,
Arundel, the lord Lumley, Sir Nicholas Throg-
morton, and the bishop of Ross, were released
from confinement; and, after a more tedious
imprisonment, the duke of Norfolk himself was
admitted to his liberty. This favor, however,
was not extended to him till he had not only
submissively acknowledged his presumption in
the business of his marriage ; but had fully re-
vealed whatever had passed between Mary and
him, and solemnly engaged himself never more
to think of this alliance, and never more to take
any concern whatsoever in her affairs. The
regent, in the meanwhile, was very anxious to
recover the good opinion of Elizabeth. Her
treatment of Mr. Wood, and her discovery of
his practices, had excited his apprehensions.
He therefore assembled at Stirling a convention
of the estates ; and, taking her letters a second
time into consideration, returned her an answer
to them by Robert Pitcairn abbot of Dunferm-
line, in a style suited to her temper and jea-
lousies, and from which she could infer that no
favor would be shown to the queen of Scots.
But this base condescension not being sufficient,
in his opinion, to draw completely to him the
cordiality of the queen of England, he was pre-
paring to gratify her with another sacrifice. The
partiality of Maitland to Mary, and his intrigues
with Norfolk and the English malcontents, had
rendered him uncommonly obnoxious to Eliza-
beth. The late commotions had been chiefly
ascribed to his arts. Under the pretence of em-
ploying his service in despatches to England,
the regent invited him to Stirling. He was then
with the earl of Athol at Perth; and, suspecting
some device, he obeyed the summons with re-
luctance. When he took his place in the privy
council, captain Crawford, the minion of the
earl of Lennox, who had distinguished himself in
the trial of Mary, accused him, in direct terms,
of being a party in the murder of the late king.
The regent affected astonishment, but permitted
him to be taken into custody. He was soon
after sent to Edinburgh under a guard, and ad-
monished to prepare for his trial. Upon similar
charges the lord Seton and Sir James Balfour
were seized upon and imprisoned. Kirkaldy of
Grange, the governor of the castle of Edinburgh,
who was warmly attached to Maitland, after
having remonstrated in vain with the regent on
his conduct, employed address and stratagem in
the service of his friend. Under the cover of
niijht, he went with a guard of soldiers to the
lodging where Maitland was confined ; and,
showing a forged warrant for taking his person
into keeping, got possession of him.- Kirkaldy
2 M -2
532
SCOTLAND.
had now in his castle the duke of Chatelherault,
the lord Herries, and Maitland. The regent sent
for him to a conference; but he refused to obey
his message. He put himself and his fortress
under the direction of his prisoners. The regent,
condescending to pay him a visit, was more lavish
than usual of his promises and kindness. His
arts, however, only excited the disdain of this
generous soldier. As the regent could not lead
out Maitland to the block, he instituted a pro-
cess of treason against him, to forfeit his estates.
Kirkaldy, by a trumpeter, desired him to com-
mence similar actions against the earl of Morton
and Mr. Archibald Douglas, as it was notorious
that they were parties to the king's murder.
This messenger was likewise charged with deli-
vering a challenge from him to Mr. ArrJjiuald
Douglas, and another from the lord Herries to
the earl of Morton. This disappointment, and
these indignities, made a deep impression upon
the regent ; and, in a thoughtful dissatisfied
humor, about this time, he made a short pro-
gress towards the English border, courting po-
pularity, and deserving it, by an attention to
order and justice. Elizabeth, flattered by his
submissive advances, and pleased with his am-
bition, was now disposed to gratify his fullest
wishes ; and she perceived that, by delivering to
him the queen of Scots, she would effectually
relieve herself of a prisoner whose vigor and in-
Irigues were a constant interruption to her re-
pose. A treaty for this purpose was entered
into and concluded. The regent was to march
an army to the English frontiers, and to receive
from her his sovereign into her own dominions,
the victim of his power, and the sport of his
passions. No hostages and no security were
stipulated for her entertainment and good usage.
His authority over her was to be unlimited.
Upon his part he was to deliver to Elizabeth
the young prince, to put her in possession of the
principal forts of Scotland, and to assist her with
troops in the event of a war with France. This
treaty, so fatal to Mary, and so ruinous to the
independence of Scotland, escaped not the vigi-
lance of the bishop of Ross. He complained
of it in the strongest terms to Elizabeth ; and
declared it to be equivalent to a sentence of death
against his mistress. The ambassadors of France
and Spain were also strenuous in their remon-
strances to her upon this subject. All resistance,
•however, was unavailing ; and the execution of
the treaty seemed inevitable. Yet how vain are
the loftiest schemes of human pride ! The career
of the regent was hastening to its termination ;
and the hand of an assassin put a period to his
dream of royalty. Scotland did not lose its
liberties ; but Mary continued to be unfortunate.
James Hamilton of Bothwelhaugh, who had
been taken a prisoner at the battle of Langside,
obtained his liberty and life; but his estates
were forfeited. His wife, the heiress of Wood-
houslie, retired upon this emergency to her pa-
ternal inheritance, in the hope that it might
•ft ape the rapacity of the regent. He had, how-
ever, given it away to one of his favorites, Sir
James IJallenden ; and the instruments of his
power having the inhumanity to strip her of her
garments, and to turn her naked out of her house,
in a cold and dark night, she became dbtrac-te.l
before the morning. Hamilton vowed revenge ;
and the regent made a mockery of his threats.
This contempt inspirited his passions ; and tht
humiliation of the house of Hamilton, to whicb
he was nearly allied, fostered his discontents
until the madness of party reconciled his mind
to assassination. After watching for some time
a proper opportunity to commit his horrible
purpose, he found it at Linlithgow. The regent
was to pass through this town in his way from
Stirling to Edinburgh. Intimations reached him
that Hamilton was now to perpetrate his design;
but he unaccountably neglected them. The as-
sassin, in a house that belonged to the archbishop
of St. Andrews, waited deliberately his approach ;
and, firing his musket from a window, shot him
through the body. The wound was not judged
to be mortal; but the regent, finding its pain
increase, prepared for death; and in a few hours
expired. A fleet horse of the abbot of Arbroath's
carried the assassin to the palace of Hamilton ;
and thence he soon after effected his escape into
France.
The death of Murray made no favorable alte-
ration in the affairs of Mary. Confusion and
disorder prevailed throughout the kingdom; and,
though the friends of the queen were promised
assistance from France, nothing effectual was
done. At last the regency was conferred upon
the earl of Lennox ; an enemy to his queen, and
who treated her friends with the utmost rigor.
At the same time Elizabeth continued to amuse
with negociations her unhappy rival. She granted
liberty to the bishop of Ross to repair to the queen
of Scots, who had been removed to Chatsworth,
and to confer with her on the inteuded accord
and treaty. Mary, conforming to the advances
of Elizabeth, authorised lord Livingston to pass
to her dominions, and to desire her friends to
appoint a deputation of their number to give
their assistance in establishing the tranquillity of
their country : and, after meeting with some in-
terruptions upon the English borders from the
earl of Sussex, this nobleman executed success-
fully his commission. The queen's lords gave
power to ten nobles to act in a body, or by two
of their number, in the intended negociation :
and a safe conduct from Elizabeth allowed them
to enter the English realm, and to remain in it six
months. While lord Livingston was consulting
the interests of Mary with her friends in Scotland,
the bishop of Ross was making earnest suit with
Elizabeth to proceed in the projected negociation.
His solicitations were not ineffectual ; and Sir Wil-
liam Cecil and Sir Walter Mildmay were ordered
to wait upon the queen of Scots at Chatsworth.
The heads of accommodation which they pro-
posed were explicit and particular ; and the rigor
they discovered towards the Scottish princess
seemed to vouch their sincerity. They proposed
that a perfect amity should take place between
the two queens; that all the treaties formerly
concluded by the two nations should receive an
ample confirmation ; that the queen of Scots
should ratify the treaty of Edinburgh, and for-
bear from advancing any title or claim to the
crown of England during the life of Elizabeth,
or to the prej idice of the heirs of her body ,
SCOTLAND.
that, in case of foreign invasions, the two realms
should mutually assist each other ; that all foreign
soldiers should be ordered to depart out of Scot-
land ; that, in the future, strangers of the profes-
sion of arms should be prohibited from repairing
to it, and from taking up their residence in any
of its castles or houses of strength; that Mary
should hold no correspondence, diredlly or in-
directly, with any subject of England, without
fhe permission of the English queen ; that the
earl of Northumberland, and the English rebels
in Scotland, should be delivered up to Elizabeth;
that redress should be given to the subjects of
England for the spoils committed upon them by
the Scottish borderers ; that the murderers of
lord Darnley and the earl of Murray should be
punished ; that, before the queen of Scots should
be set at liberty, the young prince her son should
be brought into England, and that he should con-
tinue in the keeping of Elizabeth till the death
of his mother, or till her resignation to him of
her crown on attaining his majority ; that the queen
of Scots should not enter into a negociation for
her marriage without the knowledge of the queen
of England, nor conclude it without her appro-
bation, or that of the greatest part of the Scottish
nobility; that none of the subjects of Scotland
should be suffered to go to Ireland without the
safe conduct of Elizabeth ; and that Mary should
deliver to her all the testimonies and writings
which had been sent from France, renouncing
the pretended marriage between her and the
duke of Anjou. Besides these articles, it was
proposed by another treaty to adjust the differ-
ences of the queen of Scots and her subjects;
and Sir William Cecil and Sir Walter Mildmay
embraced the opportunity of conferring with her
upon this business, under the pretence of facili-
tating its management in the future stages of its
progress. During their stay at Cbatsworth,
these statesmen were completely satisfied with
the behaviour of the queen of Scots. The can-
dor, sincerity, and moderation, which she dis-
played, were full assurances to them, that, upon
her part, there was no occasion to apprehend
any improper policy or art ; and the calamities
of her condition were a still securer pledge of
her compliance. Elizabeth, upon hearing their
report, affected to be highly pleased with her
sister, and sent a message to the earl of Lennox,
instructing him in the conditions which had been
submitted to Mary, and desiring him to dis-
patch commissioners into England to deliberate
in the treaty, and to consult his interest and that
of his faction. Nor did Mary neglect to trans-
mit to her friends in Scotland the proposed terms
of agreement ; and the bishop of Ross, who
had assisted her in the conferences with Sir
William Cecil and Sir Walter Mildmay, con-
veyed intimations of them to the pope, the king
of France, and the duke of Alva ; besought their
advice, and informed these princes that, unless
an effectual relief could be expected from their
favor, the necessities of her condition would com-
pel her to subscribe to the hard and humiliating
dictates of the queen of England.
'But, while Mary and her friends were in-
•'nlgingthe hope of a termination to her trou-
bles, Elizabeth was secretly giving comfort to
her adversaries, and encouraging them to throw
obstacles in the way of the treaty. Sir William
Cecil wrote to the regent, expressing his disap-
probation of the negociations at Chatsworth ;
desiring- him not to be apprehensive of the
boastings of the adherents of the queen of Scots;
and advising him to make choice of commis-
sioners, in the name of the king, in whose con-
stancy and fortitude he could rely. The earl of
Sussex also sent him despatches, in which he ad-
monished him to turn- his anxious attention to
the approaching negociation, and to insist on
secure stipulations for the preservation of the
prince, for his own safety, and for a general in-
demnity to the nobles and their adherents, whose
party he had espoused. In every event he re-
presented it as proper for him to pay the greatest
respect to Elizabeth ; and, if no treaty should
be concluded, he advised him to be prepared
for reducing the friends of Mary to obedience,
and for defending himself against invasions from
abroad. By these artifices, the regent and his
faction intimated to Elizabeth their dissatisfac-
tion with the terms of agreement proposed to
Mary; and Pitcairn abbot of Uunfermline, \\l;o
had been appointed secretary of state in the
room of Maitland of Lethington, was sent to
her upon this business. He exclaimed against
the treaty as wild and impolitic ; and contended
that no stipulations could bind Mary, whose
religion taught her to keep no faith with heretics ;
that her claims to the English crown, and her
resentment against the queen of England, as
well as her own subjects, would, immediately
upon her restoration, involve the two kingdoms
in blood ; and that no peace could be enjoyed,
but by detaining her in close captivity. Eliza-
beth did not discourage these iniquitous senti-
ments; and Pitcairn was assured by her that
from her natural love to the king, and her re-
gard to the nobles, she would provide for their
security, and maintain their quarrel and their
consequence. Mary had been carried to Shef-
field, and was recovering from a fever. To this
place the bishop of Galloway and lord Living-
ston, who had been selected by her friends to be
her acting deputies in England, repaired to im-
part to her the state of affairs in Scotland, and
to receive her commands. After repeated con-
ferences on the approaching treaty, she gave them
her commission and instructions, and, joining
them to the bishop of Ross, sent them to Eliza-
beth. They claimed an audience of this princess,
and were admitted to it at Hampton-court.
Having presented their credentials, they informed
her that they were ready to conclude a treaty of
concord and agreement, upon principles the
most extensive and liberal ; and, representing to
her the impoverished and tumultuous state of
their country, they begged her to proceed in the
business with expedition. The orders, they said,
which they had received, and their own inclina-
tions, disposed them to follow her advice and
counsel in all points which were honorable and
consistent with reason ; and, as her protection
was the only refuge of the adversaries of their .
queen, it was completely in her power to put a
period to all disturbances, and to accomplish an
accord, which would not only confer upon hei
534
SCOTLAND.
the highest reputation, but be of the most signal
utility to the t%vo kingdoms. Elizabeth declared
that it would please her highly to advance in the
negociation ; and that it was a pain to her that
the regent, by his delay in sending commis-
sioners, should discover any aversion from it.
This answer was deemed very favorable by the
bishop of Ross and his associates ; and they ob-
tained her authority to send a messenger to the
regent to hasten his operations. In the mean
time Mary received despatches from the pope,
the king of France, and the duke of Alva; and
they concurred in recommending it to her to
accept of the articles of accommodation offered
by Elizabeth. The Turk was giving employment
to the pope and the king of Spain : Charles IX.,
already enfeebled by the obstinate valor of the
Hugunots, was busy in deceiving them with ap-
pearances of peace, and in plotting their mas-
sacre ; and the duke of Alva felt himself inse-
cure in his government of the Netherlands.
But, while they strongly advised Mary to con-
clude an agreement with the queen of England,
they were yet lavish to her of their expressions
of a constant amity ; and, if the treaty should
miscarry, they promised to make the most
strenuous exertions in her behalf, and to assist
her adherents with money, ammunition, and
troops. The earl of Morton, the abbot of Dum-
fermline. and Mr. James Macgill, had been ap-
pointed by the regent and his faction to be their
commissioners in the name of the king ; and at
length their arrival was announced to Elizabeth.
They justified to her the deposition of the queen
of Scots, and thus interrupted the progress of
ihe treaty. In an elaborate memorial they af-
fected to consider Mary as unworthy to reign,
and asserted the constitutional power of the
people to throw her down from royalty. They
endeavoured to entrench themselves within the
authority of laws, civil, canon, and municipal.
But though the general position, that the people
have a title to resist the domination of the sove-
reign is clear and undubitable, yet their appli-
cation of it to the queen of Scots was wildly
precarious and improper. To speak of her ty-
ranny, and her violation of the rights of her
people, was even a wanton mockery of truth and
justice; for, instead of having assumed an illegal
exorbitancy of power, she had suffered in her own
person and rights, and had been treated by her
subjects with the most cruel and tyrannical in-
solence. Elizabeth, who was afraid to enter
anew into the conduct of Mary, who was fully
sensible of the insolence of her adversaries, and
who did not approve of any maxims that pressed
against the majesty of princes, received their
memorial with surprise and indignation. She
perceived not, she told them, any reason that
could vindicate the severity which had been
shown to the queen of Scots by her enemies ;
and advised them to consider that in the present
negociation it was their proper business to con-
sult the security of the king and of their faction.
Upon the part of Elizabeth, the commissioners
were the lord keeper Bacon, the earls of Sussex
mid Leicester, lord Clinton, lord chamberlain,
Sir William Cecil (now lord Burleigh), Sir
Francis Knollys, Sir James Croft, Sir Walter
Mildmay, and Sir Thomas Smith. The de-
puties of Mary were invited to meet with the
English commissioners in the house of the lord
keeper ; and, after he had stated the general pur-
poses of the treaty, he intimated to them that
there were two points which required a particu-
lar discussion. A proper security, he said,
ought to be given by the queen of Scots for her
due performance of the stipulations of the agree-
ment with Elizabeth ; and it was expedient to
concert the mode of the pardon and indemnity
which she was to extend to the subjects of Scot-
land who had offended her. As an assurance
of the accommodation with his mistress, he de-
manded that the duke of Chatelherault, the earls
of Huntly and Argyle, the lords Hume and
Herries, with another person of high rank, should
be surrendered to her, and remain in England for
three years ; that the castles of Dumbarton an d
Hume should be in her possession during the
same period ; and, as to the delivery of the
prince into her custody, he observed that it
would be required from the regent, the queen of
Scots not having the power of its performance.
The deputies of Mary, surprised with his lan-
guage, intreated the English delegates to reflect
that their queen, if deprived of the most faithful
of her nobles, and of her strongest forts, could
have little desire to return to her own kingdom ;
for she would thus be unable to protect herself
against the turbulence of her subjects, and be a
sovereign without friends and without strength.
They were inclined, they said, to act upon their
commission and powers to the utmost extent to
gratify Elizabeth ; and they would agree that two
earls and two barons should be surrendered for
two years, as hostages of the fidelity of their
sovereign, under the restriction that they might
be exchanged every six months for persons of an
equal condition. As to the giving up of any
forts or castles, they would not agree to it, be-
cause, among the other inconveniences of this
measure, similar claims would be competent to
the king of France, by the spirit of the treaty of
Edinburgh, which stipulated that no French or
English troops should be admitted into Scot-
land. The lord keeper Bacon told them that
the whole kingdom of Scotland was an in-
adequate pledge, and that, if his advice would
be followed, the queen of Scots should not ob-
tain her liberty upon any kind of security which
could be granted by the Scottish nation. In all
public treaties, said the delegates of Mary, no
further assurances can be required from a sove-
reign than what consists with his safety ; and, when
exactions are pressed from a contracting party in
a league which are ruinous and impossible, a foun-
dation is sought to break off the negociation. The
English commissioners now, interfering in a body,
declared upon their honor that it was the mean-
ing of Elizabeth to agree to the restoration of the
queen of Scots to her crown and realm, upon re-
ceiving sufficient assurances for the articles of the
accommodation ; that the security offered for her
acceptance should be submitted to her delibera-
tion ; and that they would immediately proceed
to confer with the deputies for the king of Scots.
The English commissioners were not unac-
quainted with the sentiments of the earl of Mor-
SCOTLAND.
535
ton and his colleagues ; and it was from this
quarter that they expected a resolute and defi-
nitive interruption to the treaty. Nor did these
delegates disappoint their expectations. After
affecting to take a comprehensive view of the
articles under debate, they declared that their
commission gave them authority to treat about
the amity of the two kingdoms, and the main-
tenance of the true religion ; but that it confer-
red upon them no power to receive their queen
into Scotland, or to surrender to Elizabeth the
person of their king. They therefore begged
not to be urged to accede to a league which, in
some future period, might expose them to a
charge of high treason. This singular declara-
tion was considered to be solid and weighty by
the English commissioners ; and, in a new con-
ference, it was communicated by them to the
deputies of Mary. The bishop of Ross and his
associates were disgusted with this formal im-
pertinence. They did not hesitate to pronounce
it to be an unworthy and most frivolous subter-
fuge. The authors, they said, of the deposition
of their sovereign did not need any authority
but their own to set her at liberty ; the prince
was not yet five years of age, and could give
them no instructions : and the regent was wholly
dependent upon the will and pleasure of the
queen of England. It was replied by the Eng-
lish delegates that the commission of king James
to his deputies, having been perused by Eliza-
beth, was accounted by her to be insufficient ;
and that it was her opinion that the earl of
Morton should return to Scotland to hold a par-
liament for obtaining new powers. The bishop
of Ross exclaimed that the queen of Scots had
been amused with deceitful promises, that the
prudence of Elizabeth had been corrupted by
partial counsels, and that the pretences for inter-
rupting the negociation were affected and unreal.
The instructions, he said, from his sovereign to
her commissioners were to negociate and con-
clude, and not to trifle ; and they would not
consent to protract, by artificial delays, a treaty
which the queen of England, if her intentions
were sincere, could immediately terminate upon
reasonable and honorable terms. His speech and
his demeanor he acknowledged to be free and
open ; and he besought them to excuse him,
since, having been made an instrument to abuse
his mistress with false hopes, he could not but
resent the indignity, and express what he knew
and what he felt. The English deputies, addres-
sing him and his colleagues, observed that as
the friends of Mary, and those of the kins her
son, could not come to an agreement, and as
their queen was refused the assurance she ex-
pected, they held their commission to be at an
end, and were no longer at liberty to negociate.
The insincerity of Elizabeth, and the failure of
the league or agreement, filled Mary with resent-
ment and complaints. Her animosities and
those of Elizabeth were increased. She was in
haste to communicate to her allies the unworthy
treatment she had received; and she sent her
commands to her adherents in Scotland to rise
up in •arms, to repose no trust in truces which
were prejudicial and treacherous, and to employ
all their resources and strength in the humilia-
tion of the regent and his faction. Elizabeth,
who by this time apprehended no danger from
Charles IX., or the duke of Alva, resolved to
give a strong and effectual support to the kind's
friends, and to disunite by stratagem, and op-
press by power, the partisans of the Scottish
princess. The zeal of the bishop of Ross having
raised her an>\er, she commanded him to dep-.irt
from London ; and Mary, in contempt of her
mandate, ordered him to remain there under the
privilege of her ambassador. The high and un-
broken spirit of the. Scottish queen, in the midst
of her misfortunes, never once awakened the
generous admiration of Elizabeth. \Vhile it
uniformly inflamed her rage, it seems also to
have excited her terror. \Vith a pusillanimous
meanness, she sent a despatch to the earl of
Shrewsbury, instructing him to keep his charge
in the closest confinement, and to be incessantly
on his guard to prevent her escape. He obeyed,
and regretted her severity. The expense, re-
tinue, and domestics of the queen of Scots, were
diminished and reduced, and every probable
means by which she might endeavour to obtain
her liberty were removed from her. The rigors,
however, that invaded her person could not reach
her mind ; and she pitied the tyrant that could
add distress to oppression, and deny her even
the comforts of a prison. All this time Scot-
land was involved in the miseries of civil war.
The friends of Mary were every where punished
with fines and forfeitures. Private families took
the opportunity of the public confusion to re-
venge their quarrels against each other. Indi-
viduals of every denomination ranged themselves
on the side either of the regent or of the queen,
and took a share in the hostilities of their coun-
try. Acts of outrage and violence were com-
mitted in every quarter, while, amidst the general
confusion, religion was made the pretence by
both parties. Meantime, though many encoun-
ters took place between the two factions, yet
neither party seems to have been conducted by
leaders of any ability or skill in military affairs.
This year, in one of these skirmishes, the regent
himself was taken prisoner by a party of the
queen's faction, and put to death. But this
event made little change in the affairs of the
nation.
The earl of Mar, another of the queen's ene-
mies, was chosen to the regency ; but, though
he propoSed to act against her party with ri^or,
he was baffled before Edinburgh castle, which
was still held by her friends ; and some bloody
skirmishes were fought in the north, where vic-
tory declared in favor of the queen. These ad-
vantages, however, were more than compensated
to the other party by the following event. NVhile
the negociations with Elizabeth for Mary's resto-
ration were depending, the scfoerw: of a conspi-
racy for her deliverance was communicated to
her by Robert Ridolphi, a Florentine, who lived
in London many years as a merchant, and who
was secretly an agent for the court of Rome.
But to his letters, while the fate of the treaty
was uncertain, she returned no reply. Its mis-
carriage, through the duplicity of Elizabeth, re-
called them forcibly to her attention, and stimu-
lated her to seek the accomplishment of her
S 0 O T L A N u.
liberty by measures bolder and more arduous
lliuu any which had been hitherto employed by
her. She drew up in cipher an ample descrip-
tion of his communications and of her situation,
and despatched it to the bishop of Ross, toge-
ther with letters for the duke of Norfolk.
Her instructions to this ecclesiastic were to
convey these papers and letters expeditiously to
Norfolk, and to concert an interview between
that nobleman and Ridolphi. The confidential
servants by whom the duke acted with the bi-
shop of Ross were Bannister and Barker ; and,
•wing received from them the paper, they were
deciphered by Hickford, his secretary. Having
considered them maturely, he delivered them to
Hickford, with orders to commit them to the
flames. But his orders were disobeyed ; and
Hickford deposited them, with other papers of
consequence, under the mats of the duke's bed-
cliamber. The contents of these communi-
cations awakening the hope and ambition of
Norfolk, he was impatient to see Kidolphi ; and
the bishop of Ross soon brought them together.
Ridolphi, whose ability was inspirited by mo-
tives of religion and interest, exerted all his
address to engage the duke to put himself at the
iiead of a rebellion against his sovereign. He
represented to him that there could not be a
season more proper than the present for achiev-
ing the overthrow of Elizabeth. Many persons
who had enjoyed authority and credit under her
predecessor were much disgusted; the Roman
Catholics were numerous and incensed; the
younger sons of the gentry were languishing in
inaction ; and there were multitudes disposed to
insurrection from the love of change, and the
ardor of enterprise. He insinuated that his rank,
popularity, and fortune, enabled him to take the
command of such persons with advantage ; and
painted out the glory he might purchase by the
humiliation of his enemies, and by his marriage
with the queen of Scots. To give strength to
these considerations he produced a long list of
noblemen and gentlemen, whom he affirmed to
be ready to hazard their lives for a revolution, if
the duke would enter into it with cordiality,
lie also mentioned the aid with which he might
flatter himself from abroad. The pope he as-
sured him had already provided 100,000 crowns
for the enterprise; and, if popery should be ad-
tanced in England, he would cheerfully defray
Jhe whole charges of the war. The king of
Spam would supply 4000 horse and 6000 foot,
which might be landed at Harwich ; and Charles
IX. was devotedly attached to the queen of
Scots. In fine, he urged that, while he might
depend on the assistance and arms of the great-
est princes of Christendom, he would entitle
himself to the admiration of all of them by his
magnanimous efforts and generous gallantry in
the cause of a queen so beautiful and so unfor-
tunate. The duke, allured by appearances so
plausible, forgot the submissive obligation in
which he had bound himself to Elizabeth never
more to interfere in the affairs of the Scottish
princess. Ridolphi, in this forward state of the
business, advised him to write to the pope, the
king of Spain, and the duke of Alva, expressive
of his concurrence in the design, and inspiriting
their activity and resolutions. He even produce^
letters framed for tin's purpose ; and, while l.e
entreated the duke to subscribe them, he ofle.-eo
to carry them himself to Flanders, Rome, and
Spain. The duke, who was ambitious and timid,
disposed to treason, and unfit for it, refused to
subscribe the letters ; but he allowed the bishop
of Ross and Barker his servant to go to the
Spanish ambassador to express his approbation
of the measures of Ridolphi, to acknowledge
that the letters were according to his mind, and
to empower this statesman to certify their au-
thenticity to his court. Ridolphi, full of hopes,
set out to execute his commission. He passed
first to the duke of Alva. to whom lw commu-
nicated the transactions in which he had been
engaged, and with whom he held many confer-
ences. There was at this time at Brussels
Charles Bailly, a servant of queen Mary's ; and
Ridol phi, after disclosing to him his proceedings
with Alva, entrusted him with letters to her, to
the duke of Norfolk, the Spanish ambassador,
and the bishop of Ross. \\ hen this messenger
reached Calais, a letter was delivered to him
from the bishop of Ross, desiring him to leave
his despatches with the governor of that place.
But he neglected this notice ; and, being search-
ed at Dover, his letters, books, and clothes were
seized, and he himself was sent to London, and
imprisoned in the Marshalsea. The bishop of
Ross, full of apprehensions, applied to lord Cob-
ham, the warden of the cinque- ports, who was
friendly to the duke of Norfolk; and, obtaining
by his means the packet of despatches from Ki-
dolphi, substituted another in its place, which
contained letters of no danger or usefulness.
He also sent intelligence of this manoeuvre to
Bailly, and admonished him to preserve a pro-
found silence. This simple and unpractised
agent had, however, excited suspicions by the
symptoms of terror he had exhibited upon being
taken, and by exclaiming that the despatches he
brought would involve his own destruction and
that of others. At his first examination he con-
fessed nothing ; but being sent to the tower,
and put upon the rack, he revealed his conversa-
tions with Ridolphi, and declared that the de-
spatches which he had brought had been deli-
vered to the bishop of Ross. An order
granted for taking the bishop into custody. I lav-
ing been aware, however, of his perilous situa-
tion, his house was searched in vain for trea-
sonable papers ; and he thought to screen himself
from answering any interrogatories under the
sanctity of his character as the ambassador of an
independent princess. An unexpected incident
excited in the meanwhile new suspicions. Mary
being desirous of transmitting 2000 crowns to>
lord Henries, to advance her interests in Scot-
land, the duke of Norfolk undertook to convey
it to him with safety. He entrusted it to the
charge of his confidents Hickford and Barker, who
putting it into a bag with despatches from their
master to lord 1 lorries, ordered a servant called
Brown to carry it to Bannister ; who, bemg
at this time on the border, could forward it
to Scotland. Brown, suspicious or corrupted,
instead of proceeding on his errand, carried tlu:
bag and its contents to lord Burleigh. The
SCOTLAND.
537
privy council, deeming it treason to send money
out of the realm for the use of the friends of
Mary, whom they affected to consider as enemies,
ordered Hickford and Barker to be apprehended.
The rack extorted from them whatsoever they
knew to the prejudice of their master. Hickford
gave intelligence of the fatal communications
from Mary ; which he had villanously preserved
in opposition to the orders given to him. AH
the proceedings between the queen of Scots, the
duke of Norfolk, the bishop of Ross, and Ridol-
phi, were brought to light. A guard was placed
upon the house of the duke to prevent his escape.
Sir Ralph Saddler, Sir Thomas Smith, Sir Henry
Nevil, and Dr. Wilson, were commissioned to
examine him ; and, in the belief that the papers
and letters so often alluded to had been destroyed,
he denied that he had any concern in the affairs
of the queen of Scots, or any knowledge of them.
He was committed to the tower a close prisoner.
Bannister by this time was taken ; and he con-
firmed the relations of Hickford and Barkei. In
the course of their discoveries, the earls of Arun-
del and Southampton, lord Cobham, Mr. Thomas
l.'obham, his brother, Sir Thomas Stanley, Sir
Henry Percy, and other gentlemen who were
friendly to the queen of Scots and the duke of
Norfolk, were apprehended and ordered to be
lodged in different prisons; and the rack, and
the expectation of a pardon, drew from them the
fullest confessions. The duke was unable to de-
fend himself. The concurring testimonies of his
friends and servants, with the papers, which he
fondly imagined had been burnt, were communi-
cated to him. lie was overwhelmed with amaze-
ment, and exclaimed that he had been betrayed.
He made ample acknowledgments of his guilt,
and had no hope but in the mercy of his sove-
reign. By the confession of the duke himself,
and from all the enquiries which had been made
by the ministers of Elizabeth, it appeared obvious
that the bishop of Ross had been the principal
contriver of the conspiracy. Ridolphi had acted
under his direction, and he had inspirited the
duke of Norfolk. He had even advised that
nobleman to put himself at the head of a select
band to seize the person of Elizabeth. In his ex-
aminations the bishop was treated with great rigor
and insult. But he made an able defence, and pe-
remptorily refused to make any answer to inter-
rogatories. The counsellors of Elizabeth were
disturbed with his obstinacy ; and, having told
him that the rack would soon render him more
pliant, he was ordered into close keeping in
a dark apartment of the tower. In a few
days four privy counsellors, the lord admiral,
lord Burleigh, Sir Francis Knollys, and Sir
Thomas Smith, went to the tower, and caused
him to be brought to them to the lieutenant's
lodsrin?. After having assured him that he was
charged by all the prisoners as the principal
contriver of the conspiracy, they insisted that he
should explain fully the part he had acted. The
confessions of the duke of Norfolk and his ser-
vants, of the lord Lumley, Sir Thomas Stanley,
and other gentlemen, with the despatches of the
queen of Scots, were set before him. They now
protested upon their honor that, if he would
wake a fret; and open declaration of his proceed-
ings, it should neither be employed against him
self, nor any other person : but that, if he should
continue resolute in refusing to give this satis-
faction to their queen, she would absolutely
consider him as a private person, and order him
to be tried and executed as a traitor. In this
extremity he accepted the conditions, and dis-
closed minutely all the transactions of the prin-
cipal parties in the conspiracy. But, while he
described the offences of his mistress, the duke
of Norfolk, and himself, he made many apolo-
gies for their conduct. It was natural, he said,
for the queen of Scots to exert her most strenuous
endeavours to recover her freedom and crown ;
and the methods she adopted to obtain her pur-
poses ought to be considered in connexion with
the arts of Elizabeth, who pertinaciously denied
her access to her presence, who kept her a close
prisoner, in contempt of all the principles of hu-
manity and justice, and who afforded an open
and powerful assistance to her enemies. The
duke of Norfolk he was earnest to excuse, on the
foundation of the advances which had been made
in his marriage with the queen of Scots. Their
plighted love, and their engagements, did not al-
low him to forsake her. As for himself, he was
her ambassador and her servant ; arid, being
highly indebted to her generosity and kindness,
he could not abandon her in captivity and dis-
tress, without incurring the guilt of the most sin-
ful treachery and ingratitude. The daring pro-
posal he had made to seize the person of Elizabeth
was the point, he observed, which seemed to
press upon him the most severely : and he en-
treated them to believe that he had moved it only
with the view of trying the courage of the duke
of Norfolk. The privy counsellors of Elizabeth
were now in possession of all the evidence they
could expect. Norfolk was admonished to pre-
pare for his trial ; and bishop Lesley perceived
that, though he might escape with his life, he
would never more be permitted to reside in
England as an ambassador or friend of the
queen of Scots. The defeat of the duke of Nor-
folk's conspiracy was a blow to Mary which she
could never recover. Her most faithful friends
were languishing in prisons upon her account ;
she had no longer the counsels of the bishop of
Ross ; and the Spanish ambassador, who had en-
tered into her concerns with an unscrupulous
cordiality, had been ordered to withdraw from
England. The trial and condemnation of Nor-
folk soon followed, and plunged her into the
most calamitous distress.
The massacre of the Protestants at Paris in
1572 proved also extremely detrimental to queen
Mary. It was interpreted to be a consequence
of the confederacy which had been formed at
Bayonne for the extermination of the reformed.
The Protestants were every where transported
with rage against the papists. Elizabeth pre-
pared herself against an attack from the Roman
Catholic powers ; and was haunted with the
notion that they meant to invade her kingdom,
and to give it to the queen of Scots. Her am-
bassador at Paris, Sir Francis Walsingham, aug-
mented her apprehensions and terror. He
compared her weakness with the strength of
her enemies, and assured her that, if they should
538
SCOTLAND.
possess themselves of Scotland, she would soon
cease to be a queen. He represented Mary as
the great cause of the perils that threatened her
personal safety and the tranquillity of her king-
dom ; and, as violent diseases required violent
remedies, he scrupled not to counsel her to unite
Scotland to her dominions, and to put to death
a rival whose life was inconsistent with her se-
curity. The more bigoted protestants of Scot-
land differed not widely in their sentiments from
Sir Francis ; while the more moderate were still
more attached to their religion than to Mary ;
and, amidst the indignation and horror into
which the subjects of Scotland were thrown by
the sanguinary outrages of Charles IX. and
Catharine de Medicis, they surveyed the suffer-
ings of their sovereign with a diminished sympa-
thy. This year the regent, finding himself beset
with difficulties which he could not overcome,
and the affairs of the nation involved into con-
fusion from which he could not extricate them,
died of melancholy, and was succeeded by the
earl of Morton. During the regency of the earl
of Mar, a remarkable innovation took place in
the church, which deserves to be particularly ex-
plained, being no less than the introduction of
Episcopacy instead of the Presbyterian form of
worship.
"While the earl of Lennox was regent, the
archbishop of St. Andrew's was put to death,
because he was strongly suspected to have had
some concern in the death of the earl of Murray ;
after which the earl of Morton procured a grant
of the temporalities of that see. Out of these he
allotted a stipend to Mr. John Douglas, a Protes-
tant clergyman, who took upon him the title of
archbishop. This excited censure and murmurs.
In the language of the times, it was pronounced
to be * profanation of the kirk, and a high con-
tempt of God ; it underwent the scrutiny of the
ministry in complaints to the regent ; and a
commission of privy-counsellors and clergymen
was appointed, in the name of the king, to en-
quire into it, and to reform and improve the
policy of the church. This commission, upon
the part of the privy council, consisted of the
earl of Morton, the lord lluthven, Robert abbot
of Dunfermline, Mr. James Macgill, Sir John
Ballenden, and Colin Campbell of Glenorchie ;
and, upon the part of the church, were Messrs.
John Erskine of Dun, John VVinram, Hay,
Lindsay, Pont, and John Craig. The consulta-
tions and debates were long ; but the influence
of the earl of Morton directed their determina-
tions. It was resolved that, till the majority of
the king, or till the wisdom of the three estates
should be consulted, the titles of archbishop and
bishop should continue as in the times which
preceded the reformation; that a chapter of
learned ministers should be annexed to every
metropolitan or cathedral seat ; that the sees, as
they became vacant, should be given to those of
the Protestant ministry who were most eminent
for their qualifications ; that the archbishops and
bishops should exercise no higher jurisdiction
than was permitted to superintendants ; and that
they should be subject to the control of the gene-
ral assemblies of the church ; that all abbots,
priors, and other infenui prelates presented to
benefices, should be examined by the bishop
the diocese ; and that their fitness to represent
the church in parliament should be enquired
into; that the king and the regent should recom-
mend qualified persons to vacant bishoprics ;
that the elections of them should be made by the
chapters of the respective cathedrals ; that all
benefices with cure under prelacies should be
disposed to officiatine ministers; and that the
bisliops and superintendants, upon the 'ordina-
tion of ministers, should exact an oath from them
to recognise the authority of the king, and to pay
canonical obedience to their ordinary in ail
things that were lawful. By these artful regula-
tions the earl of Morton did not mean solely to
consult his own rapacity or that of the nobles.
The exaltation of the Protestant church to be one
of the three estates was a consequence of them :
and, the clergy being the strenuous enemies of
Mary, he might by their means secure a decided
influence in parliament. The earl of Mar, as
regent, giving his sanction to the proceedings of
the commission, they were carried into practice.
The delusive expectation of wealth, which this
revival of episcopacy held out to the ministry,
was flattering to them; and they bore with
tolerable patience this severe blow that wa>
struck against the religious policy of Geneva.
Mr. John Douglas was elected, notwithstanding
the opposition made by John Knox and other
ecclesiastics, who stood up for the rules estab-
lished at the reformation. He was inaugurate- 1
by the bishop of Caithness, Mr. John Spotswood,
and Mr. David Lindsay, who, violating the book
of discipline, communicated to him his admission
by the imposition of hands. This was a singular
triumph of episcopacy ; yet Douglas was in a
very advanced age; and his mental qualifications
which had never been eminent, were in a state
of decay. A general assembly, held at St. An-
drews, considering the new regulations, ap-
pointed commissioners to go to John Knox,
who was indisposed, and to consult with him
whether they were agreeable to the word of God .
But from the arts of the nobles, or from the
sickness of Knox, this conference was not carried
into execution. In a general assembly, however,
which met at Perth, the new polity was reported
and examined. The titles of archbishop, dean,
arch-dean, chancellor, and chapter, were excepted
against as popish distinctions. A wish was ex-
pressed that they might be exchanged for titles
less profane and superstitious ; and a unanimous
protestation was made that the new polity was
merely a temporary expedient, and should only
continue till a more perfect order should be ob-
tained from the king, the regent, and the nobility.
This tolerating resolution left the new polity in
its full force ; and a foundation was now estab-
lished for the laity to partake in the profits of
bishoprics. The simoniacal paction of Morton
and Douglas was not long singular. Mr. James
Boyd was appointed to the archbishopric of
Glasgow, James Paton to the bishopric of Dun-
keld, and Mr. Andrew Graham to the see of
Dumblain; these compromising ecclesiastics, upon
being allowed competencies to themselves, grati-
fied their noble friends with a proportion of their
revenues. The people, however, approved not
SCOTLAND.
539
thi?, simoniacal spirit of traffic ; and the bishops
of the new polity were treated openly with re-
proach or ridicule. The year 1572 is remarkable
for the death of John Knox, whose mistaken zeal
had contributed to bring upon the queen many
of those misfortunes with which she was now
oppressed.
Neither by his death, however, nor by the
change of the regency, could she now be
relieved. The earl of Morton was so much de-
voted to Elizabeth that he received particular
instructions from her how to guide the young
king. His elevation, indeed, gave the finishing
stroke to the queen's affairs. He employed
himself with success in dividing her party
among themselves, and induced the duke ot
Chatelherault and the earl of Huntly to forsake
her. As for Elizabeth, she was bent on putting
.Mary to death ; but, as no crime could be alleged
au linst her in England, she thought it proper
that she should be carried back to suffer death
in her own dominions. This proposal, however,
\MH rejected ; and the friends who remained true
t'> Mary once more began to indulge themselves
in hopes of succors from France. New mis-
fortunes, however, awaited them. The castle of
Edinburgh, which had hitherto been held for the
queen by Kirkaldy of Grange, was obliged to
.surrender to an English army commanded by
Sir William Drury. Kirkaldy was solemnly
a^ured by the English commander of his life
and liberty ; but Elizabeth violated this 'capitu-
lation, and commanded him to be delivered up
to the regent ; 100 of his relations offered to
become vassals to Morton, and to pay him 3000
merks yearly, if he would spare his life ; but in
vain : Kirkaldy and his brother Sir James were
hanged at Edinburgh. Maitland of Lethington,
who was taken at the same time, was poisoned
in the prison-house of Leith. The jealousy of
Klizabeth did not diminish with the decline of
Mary's cause. She now treated her with more
rigor than ever, and patronised Morton in all the
enormities which he committed against her
friends. Lesly, bishop of Ross, had been long
imprisoned in England, on account of his con-
cern in the duke of Norfolk's conspiracy. Mor-
ton earnestly solicited the queen to deliver him
up, and would undoubtedly have put him to
death ; but, as he had acted in the character of
ambassador from Mary, he was suffered to de-
part for France. When he arrived there he en-
deavoured in vain to stir up the emperor, the
pope, and the duke of Alva, to exert themselves
in behalf of the queen of Scotland ; and in
1574 the misfortunes of his royal mistress were
farther aggravated by the death of Charles IX.
of France, and her uncle the cardinal of Lor-
rain. The regent, in the mean time, ruled with
the most despotic sway. He twice coined base
money in the name of his sovereign ; and, after
[Hitting it into circulation the second time, he
issued orders for its passing only for its intrinsic
value. The duke of Chatelherault happening to
die this year, the regent took every method of
ruining all those of his name and family. He
committed to prison all the Hamiltons, and every
person of distinction who had fought for the
queen at the battle of Langside, and compelled
them to buy their liberty at an exorbitant price.
He instigated Douglas of Lochleven to assassi-
nate lord Arbroath, and it was with difficulty
that the latter escaped the ambush laid for him.
Reid, bishop of Orkney, having left his estate to
charitable uses, the regent prohibited the execu-
tion of the will, and took upon himself the ad-
ministration. To be rich was a sufficient crime
to excite his vengeance. He entered the ware-
houses of merchants, and confiscated their pro-
perty ; and, if he wanted a pretence to justify
his conduct, the judges and lawyers were ready
at his call.
In this disastrous period the clergy augmented
the general confusion. Andrew Melvil had
lately returned from Geneva ; and, the discipline
of its assembly being considered by him as the
most perfect model of ecclesiastical polity, he
was much offended with the introduction of
episcopacy into Scotland. His learning was
considerable, and his skill in languages profound.
lie was fond of disputation, violent, and perti-
nacious. The Scottish clergy were in a humor
to attend to him ; and his merit was sufficient to
excite their admiration. Instigated by him,
John Drury, one of the ministers of Edinburgh,
called in question, in a general assembly, the
lawfulness of the bishops, and the authority of
chapters in electing them. Melvil, after com-
mending his zeal and his motion, declaimed
concerning the flourishing state of the establish-
ment of Geneva ; and, having recited the opi-
nions of Calvin and Beza upon ecclesiastical
government, maintained that there should be no
office-bearers in the church whose titles were
not in the book of God. He affirmed that the
term bishop was no where to be found in it in
the sense in which it was commonly understood,
as Christ allowed not any superiority among
ministers. He contended that Christ was the
only lord of his church, and that the ministers
of the word were all equal in degree and power.
He urged that the bishops, beside being unlaw-
ful, had grown unseemly with corruptions ; and
that, if they were not removed out of the church,
it would fall into decay, and endanger the in-
terests of religion. His sentiments were received
with flattering approbation; and, though the
archbishop of Glasgow, with th6 bishops of
Dunkeld, Gal'oway, Brechin, Dumblain, and the
Isles, were present in this assembly, they ven-
tured not to defend their vocation. It was
resolved that the name of bishop conferred no
distinction or rank, and that the office was not
more honorable than that of the other ministers.
The episcopal estate in the meanwhile was
watched with anxious observation ; a.nd faults of
every kind, which were found in individuals,
were charged upon the whole order. In a new
assembly this subject was again canvassed. It
was moved, whether bishops, as constituted in
Scotland, had any authority for their functions
from the Scriptures? After long debates, it was
thought prudent to avoid an explicit determina-
tion of this important question. But a confir-
mation was bestowed upon the resolution of the
former assembly ; and it was established as a
rule, that every bishop should make choice of a
particular church within his diocese, and should
540
SCOTLAND.
actually discharge the duties of a minister. The
regent, disturbed with these proceedings of the
brethren, was disposed to amuse and to deceive
them. He sent a messenger to advise them not
to disfigure the established forms ; adding that,
if their aversion from episcopacy was insur-
mountable, it would become them to think of
some other mode of ecclesiastical government.
The assembly, taking the advantage of this
mes-age, intimated to him that they would frame
a lasting platform of polity, and submit it to the
privy-council. They appointed accordingly a
committee of the brethren for this purpose ; and
in a short time Messrs. Dacid Lindsay, James
J.;iuson, and Robert Font, were deputed to wait
upon the regent with a new scheme of ecclesias-
tical government. The regent, taking from them
their schedule, replied that he would appoint
certain persons of the privy council to confer
with them. A conference was even begun upon
the subject, but, from his arts or the public trou-
bles, no advances were made in it. This year
the earl of Bothwel died in Denmark; and in his
last moments is said to have confessed that he
was sjuilty of the king's murder, revealed the
names of the persons who were his accomplices,
and, with the most solemn protestations, declared
the honor and innocence of the queen. His
confession was transmitted to Elizabeth by the
king of Denmark.
The regent still continued his enormities, till,
having rendered himself obnoxious to the best
part of the nobility, he was, in 1577, compelled
to resign his office into the hands of James VI. ;
but, as the king was then only twelve years of
age, a general council of twelve peers was ap-
pointed to assist him in the administration.
Next year, however, the earl of Morton having
gained the favor of the young king, procured the
dissolution of this council ; and thus, being left
the sole adviser of the king, he hoped to be
raised to his former greatness. This could not
be done, however, without keeping the king in a
kind of captivity, so that nobody could have
access to him but himself. The king, sensible
f his situation, sent a despatch to the earls of
Argyle and Athol, intreatingthem to relieve him.
An army for this purpose was soon raised, and
Morton's partisans were in danger of being
defeated, had not the opposite party dreaded the
vengeance of Elizabeth, who was resolved to
support the earl of Morton. In consequence of
this a negociation was entered into, by which it
was agreed that the earl of Argyle with some
others should be admitted into the king's council;
and that four noblemen should be chosen by
each parly to consider of some proper method of
preserving tranquillity in the nation. This pa-
cification did not greatly diminish the power of
Morton. lie soon got rid of one of his princi-
pal antagonists, the earl of Athol, by poisoning
him at an entertainment; after which he again
gave a loose rein to his resentments against the
house of Hamilton, whom he persecuted in the
most cruel manner. By these means he drew
upon himself a general hatred; and he was sup-
planted in the king's favor by the lord d'Aubig-
ney, who came from France in 1579, and was
created carl of Ix»nnox. In 1580 Morton was
suspected of an intention to deliver up the king
to Elizabeth, and a guard was appointed to pre-
vent any attempts of this kind. The queen ot
England endeavoured to support her zealous
partisan, but without effect. He was tried, con-
demned, and executed, for being concerned in
the murder of Darnley. At the place of execu-
tion it is said that he confessed his guilt. It is
certain that he acknowledged himself privy to
the plot formed against the life of the kins: ; and
when one of the clergymen attending him before
his execution observed that by his own confes-
sion he merited death in foreknowing and con-
cealing the murder, he replied, ' Ay but, Sir,
had 1 been as innocent as St. Stephen, or as
guilty as Judas, I must have come to the scaffold.
Pray, what ought I to have done in this matter '!
You knew not the king's weakness. If I had
informed him of the plot against his life, he
would have revealed it even to his enemies and
those concerned in the design ; and I should, it
may be, have lost my own life, for endearoaring
to preserve his.'
The elevation of king James, and the total
overthrow of Morton, produced no beneficial
consequences to the unfortunate Mary. In 1581
she addressed a letter to Castelnau, the French
ambassador, in which she complained that her
body was so weak, and her limbs so feeble, that
she was unable to walk. Castelnau therefore in-
treated Elizabeth to mitigate the rigors of her
confinement ; which being refused, the latter had
thoughts of resigning her claims to the crowns
both of England and Scotland into the hands
of her son, and even of advising him to use
every effort in his power to establish his claim to
the English crown as preferable to that of Eliza-
beth. But, being apprehensive of danaer from
this violent method, she again contented herself
with sending to the court of England ineffectual
memorials and remonstrances. Elizabeth, in-
stead of taking compassion on her situation,
assiduously encouraged every kind of disorder in-
the kingdom, on purpose to have the queen more
and more in her power. Thus, the Scottish mal-
contents finding themselves always supported, a
conspiracy was at last entered into, the design of
which was to hold James in captivity, and to
overthrow the authority of Arran and Lennov,
who were now the principal persons in the king-
dom. The chief actors in this were the earls of
Cowrie, Mar, and Glencairn, the lords Lindsay
and Boyd, with the masters of Glammis and
Oliphant. Through the youth and imbecility of
the king, they easily accomplished their purpose ~T
and, having got him in their power, they promised
him his liberty provided he would command
Lennox to depart the kingdom. This was ac-
cordingly done ; but the king found himself as
much a prisoner as before. The more effectually
to detain him in their custody, the rebels con-
strained him to issue a proclamation, wherein he
declared himself to be at perfect liberty. Lennox
was preparing to advance to the king's relief
with a considerable body offerees, when he was
disconcerted by the king's peremptory command
to leave Scotland ; upon which he retired to
Dumbarton, to wait for a more favorable oppor-
tunity. The »:arl of Arran, being more forward.
SCOTLAND.
541
was committed to close custody for some time,
but afterwards confined only in his house of
Kinneil. The rebels took upon them the title of
lords for the reformation of the state. The clergy,
who had all this time been exceedingly averse to
-episcopacy, now gave open countenance to the
lords of the reformation. On the 13th of Oc-
tober, 1582, they made a solemn act by which
the raid of Kuthven, as the capture of the king
was called, was deemed a service most acceptable
to all who feared God, respected the true religion,
and were anxious for the preservation of the king
and state ; and every minister was commanded to
declaim from his pulpit upon the expediency of
this measure, and to exhort the people to concur
with the lords in prosecuting the full deliverance
of the church, and the perfect reformation of the
commonwealth. Not satisfied with this, the con-
spirators got their proceedings approved by the
states of Scotland, as a good, a thankful, and a
necessary service to the king. At the same time it
was enacted that no suit civil or criminal of any
kind should ever be instituted against the persons
concerned in it. Soon after this Lennox took
his leave of Scotland, and sailed to France, where
he died. The unfortunate Mary was driven to
despair when she heard that her son was taken
prisoner by rebels who had been instigated by
Elizabeth. In this distress she addressed a most
spirited letter to Elizabeth, in which she at once
asserted her own innocence, and set forth the
conduct of Elizabeth herself in such language as
must have put the most impudent of her ad-
versaries to the blush. Elizabeth had recourse to
her usual arts of treacherous negociation. New
terms were proposed to Mary, who would gladly
have submitted almost to any thing to procure
her freedom. It was proposed, as had often
been done before, to associate the queen of Scots
with her son in the government; but as this was
to be referred to the king, who was in the hands
of Elizabeth's friends, and to the parliament,
who were under the power of the same faction,
it is easy to see that no such association ever
could take place, or indeed was ever intended.
After the death of Lennox, the conspirators ap-
prehended no further danger, little supposing
that a prince so young and unexperienced could
deliver himself from captivity. This, however,
in 1583, he effected in the following manner. A
convention of the estates had been summoned to
meet at St. Andrews ; James, whom the earl of
Arran, notwithstanding his confinement at Kin-
neil, had found means to instruct, pretended a
desire of visiting his grand uncle the earl of
March, who resided at St. Andrews, and was for
that purpose permitted to repair thither a few
days before the convention. The better to de-
ceive the earls of Cowrie, Angus, and Mar, who
attended him, he took up his lodgings in an old
inn, which was quite open and defenceless. But,
having expressed a desire to see the castle of St.
Andrews, he was admitted into it ; and colonel
Stuart, who commanded the castle, after ad-
mitting a few of his retinue, ordered the gates to
be shut. The earls of Argyle, Marischal, Mon-
trose, and llothes, who were in concert with the
kin<r, hastened to make him an offer of their
fwoids. The opposite faction, being unprepared
tor hostilities, were filled with consternation. Of
all the conspirators, the earl of Gowrie alone wa>
admitted into the king's presence, by the favor
of colonel Stuart, and received his pardon. The
earls of March, Argyle, Gowrie, Marischal, and
Rothes, were appointed to be a council for as-
sisting the king in the management of his affairs ;
and soon after this James set out for Edinburgh.
The king no sooner found himself at liberty,
than, by the advice of his privy council, he
issued a proclamation of mercy to the conspira-
tors ; but they, flattering themselves with the hopes
of support from Elizabeth, obstinately refused to
accept of his pardon. Iri consequence of this
they were denounced rebels. Elizabeth gave
them all the encouragement she could, and the
clergy uttered the most seditious discourses
against the king and government; but, while
they railed against popery, they themselves main-
tained openly the distinguishing tenet of popery,
namely, that the clerical was entirely indepen-
dent of the civil power. At last the rebels broke
forth into open hostilities ; but, by the vigilance
of Arran, the earl of Gowrie, who had again
begun his treasonable practices, was committed
to custody Awhile the rest, unable to oppose the
king, who appeared against them with a for-
midable army, were obliged to fly into England,
where Elizabeth with her usual treachery pro-
tected them. The earl of Gowrie suffered as a
traitor ; but the severity exercised against him did
not intimidate the clergy.
The clergy still continued their rebellious
practices, until, the king being informed that they
were engaged in a correspondence with some of
the fugitive lords, citations were given to their
leaders to appear before the privy-council. Not
daring to appear they fled to England ; and on
the 20th of May, 1584, the king summoned a
convention of the estates, on purpose to humble
the pride of the church, tn this assembly the
raid of lluthven was declared to be rebellion,
according to a declaration which had formerly
been made by the king. And, as it had grown
into a custom with the promoters of sedition to
decline the judgment of the king and the council,
when called before them to answer for rebellious
or contumelious speeches, uttered from the
pulpit or in public places, an ordination was
made, asserting that they had complete powers
to judge concerning persons of every degree and
function, and declaring that every act of oppo-
sition to their jurisdiction should be accounted
treason, it was enacted that the authority of
the parliament was full and supreme; and that
every attempt to diminish, alter, or infringe its
power, dignity, and jurisdiction, should be held
and punished as treason. All jurisdictions and
judgments, all assemblies and conventions, not
approved of by the king and the three estates,
were prohibited. It was ordained that the king
might appoint commissioners to examine into the
delinquencies of clergymen, and, if convicted, to
deprive them of their benefices. It was com-
manded that clergymen should not for the future
be admitted to the dignity of lords of session, or
to the administration of any judicature civil or
criminal. An ordination was made which sub-
jected to capital punishment all persons who
542
SCOTLAND.
should utter false and slanderous speeches in
sermons, declamations, or familiar discourse, to
the reproach and contempt of the king, his
parents, and progenitors. It was further or-
dered that a guard, consisting of forty gentlemen,
with a yearly allowance to each of £200, should
continually attend upon the king. This parlia-
ment, which was full of zeal for the crown, did
not overlook Buchanan's History of Scotland,
which had excited a very general attention. It
commanded that all persons who were possessed
of copies of his history, and of his Treatise on the
Scottish government, should surrender them
within forty days, under the penalty of £200,
that they might be puiged of the offensive and
extraordinary matters they contained. This
stroke of tyranny was furious and ineffectual ;
foreign nations, as well as his own countrymen,
were filled with the highest admiration of Bu-
chanan. His writings were multiplied in every
quarter ; and the severity exercised against them
only served the more to excite curiosity, and to
diffuse his reputation.
While the parliamentary acts, which struck
against the importance of the church, were in
agitation, the ministers deputed David Lindsay
to solicit, the king that no statutes should pass
which affected the ecclesiastical establishment,
without the consultation of the general assembly.
But the earl of Arran, having intelligence of
this commission, defeated it, by committing
Lindsay to prison as a spy for the discontented
nobles. Upon the publication, however, of these
acts by the heralds, Robert Pont minister of St.
Cuthberts, and one of the senators of the court
of session, with Walter Balcanqual, protested
formally in the name of the church, that it dis-
sented from them, and that they were conse-
quently invalid ; after which they fled, and were
proclaimed traitors. By letters and pamphlets,
artfully spread among the people, their passions
were roused against the king and his council.
AH the clergy were commanded to subscribe a
declaration, of the supremacy of the king over
the church, and their submission to the authority
of the bishops. On this, the national ferments
increased in violence. Many ministers, refusing
to subscribe, were deprived of their livings. It
was urged that to make the king supreme over
the church was no better than to set up a new
pope, and to commit treason against Jesus Christ ;
that to overthrow assemblies and presbyteries,
and to give dominion to bishops, was not only to
overset the established polity of the church, but
to destroy region itself; for the bishops were
the slaves of the court, schismatical in their
opinions, and depraved in their lives. It was
ur^ed that the ministers alone were entrusted
wrth ecclesiastical functions, and with the sword
of the word; and that it was most wicked to
imagine that Jesus Christ had ever committed
the keys of the kingdom of heaven to civil ma-
gistrates. While the clergy were thus im potently
venting their wrath, Elizabeth alarmed beyond
measure at this sudden revolution, and terrified
l.y a confession extorted by the rack from one
1'rancis Throgmorton, concerning a combination
of the Catholic princes to invade England, began
to treat Mary in a more severe manner than
usual; and having gained over the earl ot Arran,
the only man of activity in Scotland, she re-
solved on further extremities. The Roman
Catholics, at home and abroad, were inflamed
against her with a boundless and inplacable rage :
there prevailed many rumors of plots and con-
spiracies against her kingdom and life. Books
were published which detailed her cruelties and
injustice to Mary in the most indignant language
of reproach, and which recommended her assassi-
nation as a most meritorious act : the earl of
Arran had explained to her the practices of the
queen of Scots with her son, and had discovered
the intrigues of the Catholic princes to gain him
to their views. While her fears were thus ex-
cited, circumstances happened which confirmetl
them, and provoked her to give full scope to her
malignity. Crichton, a Scottish Jesuit, passing
into his own country, was taken by Netherland
pirates ; and some papers which he had torn in
pieces and thrown into the sea, being recovered,
were transmitted to England. Sir William Wade
put them together, and they demonstrated that
the invasion of England was concerted by the
pope, the king of Spain, and the duke of Guise.
About this time, too, a letter was intercepted
from Mary to Sir Francis Englefield. She
complained in it that she could have no reliance
upon the integrity of Elizabeth, and that she ex-
pected no happy issue to any treaty which might
be opened for her restoration and liberty. She
urged the advancement of the great plot ; she
intimated that the prince her son was favorable
to the design, and disposed to be directed
by her advice ; she entreated that every delicacy
with regard to her own state and condition
should be laid aside without scruple ; and she
assured him that she would most willingly
suffer perils and dangers, and even death itself,
to give relief to the oppressed children of the
church. These discoveries, so exasperating to
Elizabeth, were followed. by a deep and general
consternation. The terror of an invasion spread
with rapidity over England ; and the Protestants,
while they trembled for the life of their cham-
pion, were still more alarmed with the dangers
which threatened their religion. In this state of
perplexity and distraction, the counsellors of Eli-
zabeth, who had been her instruments in perse-
cuting the queen of Scots, and of her severities
to the Roman Catholics, were sensible that her
greatness and safety were connected with their
own ; and they concurred in indulging her fears,
jealousies, and resentments. It was resolved
that Mary should perish. An association was
formed, to which persons of every condition and
degree were invited, for the preservation of
the life of Elizabeth, which it was affirmed was
in danger, from a conspiracy to advance some
pretended title to the crown ; and its members
vowed, by the majesty of God, to employ their
whole po*er, bodies, lives, and goods, in her
service ; to withstand all persons, of what-
soever nation or rank, who should attempt in anj
form to invade and injure her safety or her life,
and to prosecute to destruction any pretended
successor, by whom, or for whom, the assassina-
tion of Elizabeth should be attempted or com-
mitted. The earl of Leicester was the patron of
SCOTLAND.
*his association ; and the whole influence of
Elizabeth and her ministers was exerted to mul-
tiply the subscriptions. A combination so reso-
lute and so fierce, which pointed to the death of
Mary, which threatened her titles to the crown
of England, and which might defeat the succes-
sion of her son, could not fail to excite in her
bosom the bitterest anxiety and perturbation.
Weary of her sad and long captivity, broken
down with calamities, dreading afflictions still
more cruel, and willing to take away from Eli-
zabeth every possible pretence of severity, she
now framed a scheme of accommodation, to
which no decent or reasonable objection could
be made. By Naw, her secretary, she presented
it to Elizabeth and her pri\y-council. She pro-
tested in it that, if her liberty should be granted
to her, she would enter into the closest amity
with Elizabeth, and pay an observance to her
above every other prince of Christendom ; that
she would forget all the injuries with which she
had been loaded, acknowledge Elizabeth to be
the rightful queen of England, abstain from any
claim to her crown during her life, renounce the
title and arms of England, which she had usurp-
ed by the command of her husband the king of
France, and reprobate the bull from Rome which
had deposed the English queen. She likewise
protested that she would enter into the associa-
tion which had been formed for the security of
Elizabeth ; and that she would conclude a defen-
sive league with her, provided that it should not
be prejudicial to the ancient alliance between
Scotland and France ; and that nothing should
be done during the life of the English queen, or
after her death, which should invalidate her titles
10 the crown of England, or those of her son.
As a confirmation of these articles, she would
consent to stay in England for some time as an
hostage; and, if she was permitted to retire from
England, she would surrender proper and ac-
ceptable persons as sureties. She also engaged
that she would make no alterations in Scotland ;
nnd that, upon the repeal of what had been
enacted there to her disgrace, she would bury
in oblivion all the injuries she had received
from her subjects ; that she would recommend
to the king her son those counsellors who were
most attached to England, and that she would
employ herself to reconcile him to the fugitive
nobles : that she would Jake no steps about his
marriage without acquainting the queen of Eng-
land ; and that, to give the greater firmness to
the proposed accommodation, he should be call-
ed as a party to it : in fine, that she would pro-
cure the king of France and the princes of Lor-
raine to be guarari tees for the performance of her
engagements. Elizabeth, with great hypocrisy,
professed the greatest satisfaction and joy at
these overtures. She made no advances, how-
ever, to conclude an accommodation with Mary;
and her ministers and courtiers exclaimed against
lenient and pacific measures. It was insisted
that the liberty of the Scottish queen would be
the death of Elizabeth : that her association with
her son would be the ruin both of England and
Scotland ; and that her elevation to power would
extend the empire of popery, and give a deadly
blow to the doctrines of the reformation. In the
mean time an act of attainder had passed against
the fugitives nobles, and their estates and honors
were forfeited to the king; who, not satisfied
with this, sent Patrick master of Gray to de-
mand a surrender of their persons from the queen
of England. As this ambassador had resided
some time in France, and been intimate with the
duke of Guise, he was recommended to Mary :
but being a man of no principle he was easi*y
corrupted by Elizabeth ; and, while he pretended
friendship to the unfortunate queen, discovered
all that he knew of the intentions of her and Ix r
son. The most scandalous falsehoods wi-r--
forged against Mary ; and, the less she was abl ;
to execute, the more she was said to design.
That she had an amour with her keeper the earl
of Shrewsbury, as was now reported, was possi-
ble, but of this there was no proof. This, how-
ever, could be no treason against Elizabeth : yet,
on account of this, Mary was committed to the
charge of Sir Amias Paulet and Sir DrueDrurv,
zealous puritans, who would treat her with that
strict severity which might drive her to despair
and induce her to commit some rash action. —
The earl of Leicester, said to be Elizabeth's pa-
ramour, even ventured to send assassins, on pur-
pose, by the murder of Mary, at once to deliver
his mistress from her fears. But the new keepers
of the castle, though religious bigots, were men
of strict probity, and rejected with scorn such an
infamous proposal.
In 1585 Mary began to feel all the rigors of a
severe imprisonment. She had been removed
from Sheffield to the castle of Tutbury ; and un-
der her new keepers she experienced a treatment
which was in the highest degree unjust, disre-
spectful, and acrimonious. Two apartments or
chambers only were allotted to her, and they
were small and inconvenient, meanly furnished,
and so full of apertures and chinks that they
could not protect her against the inclemencies of
the weather. The liberty of going abroad for
exercise was denied to her. She was assailed by
rheumatisms and other maladies ; and her phy-
sician would not undertake to effect a cure un-
less she should be removed to a more commodi-
ous dwelling. Applications for this purpose
were often made, but uniformly rejected. Here,
however, her own afflictions did not extinguish
in her mind her sensibility for the misfortunes of
others; and she often indulged herself in the
satisfaction of employing a servant to go through
the village in search of objects of distress. But
her inhuman keepers, envying her this pleasure,
commanded her to abstain from it. Imputing
their rigor to a suspicious fidelity, she desired that
her servant might, on these occasions, be accom-
panied by one of the soldiers of their guard, or
by the constable of the village. But they would
not alter their prohibition. To insult her the
more, the castle of Tutbury was converted into
a common jail : and a young man, whose crime
was the profession of the Romish religion, was
committed to a chamber which was opposite to
her window, that he might be persecuted in her
sight. He was dragged every morning to join
in the Protestant worship ; and, after enduring
several weeks this extraordinary violence to his
conscience, was strangled, it is said, without any
544
SCOTLAND.
form of law. Mary remonstrated to Elizabeth
against indignities so shocking and so horrible ;
but in vain. In the midst of her misfortunes,
however, she had still solaced herself with hope,
from the exertions of her son. He had hitherto
behaved with a becoming cordiality ; and, in the
negociation which she had opened with him for
her association in the government, he had been
studious to please her. He had informed her
that he found the greatest comfort in her mater-
nal tenderness, and that he would accomplish
her commands with humility and expedition ;
that he would not fail to ratify her union and
association with him in the government ; that it
would be his most earnest endeavour to reconcile
their common subjects to that measure ; and that
she might expect from him, during his life, every
satisfaction and duty which a good mother could
promise to herself from an affectionate and obe-
dient son. But these fair blossoms of kindness
were all blasted by the arts of Elizabeth. The
master of Gray had now obtained an ascendant
over James. He delayed to ratify her associa-
tion in the government; and he even appeared
unwilling to press Elizabeth for her liberty. The
master of Gray had convinced him that, if any
favor was shown to Mary by the queen of Eng-
«and, it would terminate in his humiliation. He
assured him that, if his mother were again to
mount the Scottish throne, her zeal for Popery
would induce her to seek a husband in the house
of Austria ; that she would dissolve his associa-
tion with her in the government, on the pretence
of his attachment to the reformed doctrines ; and
that he would not only lose the glory of his pre-
sent power, but endanger his succession. Mary
expostulated with him by letter upon the timidity
of his behaviour ; and he returned her an answer
full of disrespect. Her amazement, indignation,
and grief, were infinite. She wrote to Castelnau the
French ambassador to inform him of her inquie-
tudes and anguish. ' My son,' said she, ' is un-
grateful ; and I desire that the king your master
shall consider him no longer as a sovereign.'
Elizabeth, having thus sown dissension between
the queen of Scots and her son, made the best
use she could of her quarrel. The pope, the
duke of Guise, and the king of Spain, had con-
cluded an alliance, called the holy league, for
the extirpation of the Protestant religion all over
Europe. Elizabeth was thrown into the greatest
consternation by this; and the idea of a counter
association among the Protestant princes of
Europe immediately suggested itself. Sir Edward
Wottou was deputed to Scotland ; and so com-
pletely gained upon the imbecility of James that
he concluded a firm alliance with Elizabeth,with-
out making any stipulation in favor of his mother.
Nay, so far was he the dupe of this ambassador
and his mistress, that he was persuaded to take
into his favor Archibald Douglas, one of the
murderers of lord Darnley; and even appointed
this assassin to be his ambassador to England.
Mary, thus abandoned by all the world, in the
hands of her most inveterate and cruel enemy,
fell a victim to her resentment and treachery, in
1587. A plot of assassination had been formed
in the spring of 1586 against the English queen ,
partly to rescue the Scottish princess, but chiefly
to serve the interests of the Roman Catholic
religion. This conspiracy, which originated
with Roman Catholic priests, was soon imparted
to Babington, a person of great fortune, of many
accomplishments, and who had formerly shown
himself a zealous friend of queen Mary. That
she had corresponded with Babington there is no
doubt ; but it was some years previous to the
formation of this plot. A long silence had taken
place between them ; and Morgan, one of the
English fugitives in France, and a warm friend
of Mary's, in May 1586, wrote a letter to her,
repeatedly, and in the most pressing manner, re-
commending a revival of that correspondence.
In consequence of which, in her answer to Mor-
gan, dated the 27th day of July, she informed
him that she had made all apologies in her
power to Babington, for not having written to
him for so long a time ; that he had generously
offered himself and all his fortune in her cause ;
and that, agreeably to Morgan's advice, she
would do her best to retain him in her interests ;
but she throws out no hint of her knowledge of
the intended assassination. On the very same
day she wrote likewise to Paget, another of her
most confidential friends ; but not a word in it
with respect to Babington's scheme of cutting off
the English queen. To Morgan and to Paget
she certainly would have communicated her
mind, and would hare consulted them about the
plot, had she been accessory to»it. Indeed it
seems to have been part of the policy of Mary's
friends to keep her a stranger to all clandestine
and hazardous undertakings in her favor. Mor-
gan, in a letter of the 4th of July, expressly re-
commended to have no intelligence at all with
Ballard, who was one of the original contrivers
of the plot, and communicated it to Babington.
The queen, in consequence, shut the door against
all correspondence with that person. The con-
spiracy, which goes under the name of Babington,
was detected in June : the names, proceedings,
and residences of those engaged in it were then
known ; the life of Elizabeth was in imminent ha-
zard : yet the conspirators were not apprehended ;
they were permitted to enjoy complete liberty ;
treated as if there had not been the least suspi-
cion against them ; and in this quiet state were
they suffered to continue till August, for a period
of nearly two months. The queen of Scots con-
tinued still detached from Babington and his
associates. Their destruction was a small matter
compared with tier's. Elizabeth's ministers knew
how much they had rendered themselves justly
obnoxious to the Scottish princess : should she
come to mount the throne of England their
downfall was inevitable ; from which considera-
tion they were even more zealous than their
mistress to accomplish her ruin. Of these, Sir
Francis \Valsingham secretary of state appears
to have taken upon himself the chief manage-
ment in concerting a plan of operations against
the queen of Scots. His spies having early ob-
tained the confidence of the inferior conspirators,
he learned that a packet from France was in-
tended to be conveyed by them to queen Mary,
and by the hands of one Gilbert Gifford a priest,
whom he had secretly gained over from their
association, he wrote a letter to Sir Amias Paulet,
SCOTLAND.
who had now the custody of Mary, requesting;
that one of his domestics might be permitted to
take a bribe for conveying that packet to his cap-
tive. This was on purpose to communicate to
her a letter, forged in the name of Babington, in
which that conspirator was made to impart to
the Scottish queen his scheme of assassination,
and to claim rewards to the perpetrators of the
deed. Paulet, however, to his honor, refused to
act a part in this plan of villany ; upon which
Gifford corrupted a brewer in the neighbour-
hood, who put his letters to Mary in a hole in
the castle-wall. By the same conveyance it was
i bought that Mary would answer the letters ; but
.*he never saw them, and of course no return was
made. It was then contrived that answers, in
the name of the queen of Scots to Gifford,
should he forged and found in the hole of the
wall. Walsingham, to whom these letters were
carried, deciphered them by the help of one
Thomas Philips, and, after exact copies were
taken, they were all artfully sealed and sent off to
the persons to whom they were directed. The
answers which Babington made to the queen's
supposed letters were carried directly to Walsing-
ham.
A foundation for criminating Mary being thus
laid, the conspirators suffered the death of trai-
tors. The unhappy princess, eagerly watched
by Paulet, and unacquainted with the late occur-
rences, received a visit from Sir Thomas Gorges.
This envoy, as instructed by Elizabeth, surprised
her when she had mounted her horse to take the
pleasure of the chase. His salutation was ab-
rupt and unceremonious; and after informing
her of the discovery and circumstances of the
conspiracy of Babington, ne rudely charged her
with a concern in it. Her astonishment was
great, and she desired to return to her chamber :
but this favor was refused ; and after being car-
ried from one house to another, in an anxious
and perplexing uncertainty, she was committed
to Fotheringay castle in Northamptonshire. Naw
and Curl, her two secretaries, the former a
Frenchman the latter a Scotsman, were taken
into custody. Paulet, breaking open the doors
of her private closet, possessed himself of hei
money, which amounted to only 7000 crowns.
Her cabinets were sealed up; and, being sent to
London, were examined in the presence of Eliza-
beth. They contained many despatches from
persons beyond the sea, copies of letters which
had been dictated by her, and about sixty tables
of ciphers and characters. There were also dis-
covered in them many despatches from English
noblemen, which were full of admiration and
respect. These Elizabeth concealed. Naw and
Curl declared that the copies of her letters
were in their hand-writing. They had been dic-
tated by her in the French language to Naw,
translated into English by Curl, and then put
into cipher. They contained not any matters
with which which she could be criminated. It
was upon the foundation of the letters which
Gifford had communicated to Walsingham that
her guilt was to be inferred ; and with copies of
these, and with an attested account of the con-
spiracy of Babington and his associates. Sir
Edward Wotton was now dispatched to France
VOL. XIX.
to accuse her to Henry III., and to explain to
him the dangers to which Elizabeth was exposed
from the machinations of the English exiles. The
privy counsellors of Elizabeth deliberated upon
the most proper method of proceeding against
Mary. To some it appeared that as she was
only accessory to the plot, and not the designer
of it, the most eligible severity to be exercised
against her was a closer and more rigorous con-
finement. By others, who were haunted by the
terrors of Popery, it was urged that she ought
to be put instantly to death by the formalities of
the law. The earl of Leicester recommended it
as most prudent to despatch her secretly by
poison. But this counsel was rejected as mean
and disgraceful. The lawyers were of opinion
that she might be tried upon the statute of Ed-
ward III. respecting high treason. Elizabeth,
however, and her ministers had provided a more
plausible foundation for her trial. This was a
parliamentary statute approving the act of asso-
ciation, which had been passed while Mary was
in England. The next point of debate was the
designation under which it was most adviseable
to arraign her : and it was resolved to designate
iier, Mary, daughter and heir of James V., king
of Scotland, commonly called queen of Scots,
and dowager of France. Elizabeth next ap-
pointed above forty peers, and five judges, with
authority to enquire into the matters compassed
and imagined against her by the Scottish prin-
cess, and to pass sentence according to the spirit
and tenor of the act. Of these commissioners a
great majority proceeded to the castle of Fotlie-
nngay ; and, the day after their arrival, they de-
puted to Mary, Sir Walter Mildmay, Sir Amias
Paulet, and Edward Barker a public notary, to de-
liver to her a letter from Elizabeth. In this letter
the English queen gratified her unhappy passions,
and after reproaching Mary with her crimes, in-
formed her that her commissioners were ap-
pointed to take cognizance of them. The Scot-
tish princess, though astonished with the project
of being brought to a public trial, was able to
preserve her dignity, and addressed them with
a composed manner and air. ' It is a matter,'
said she, ' altogether uncommon and strange
that Elizabeth should command me to submit to
a trial, as if I were her subject. I am an inde-
pendent sovereign, and will not tarnish by any
means my high birth, "the princes my predeces-
sors, and my son. Misfortunes and misery have
not yet so involved me in dejection as that I
am to faint and sink under this new calamity and
insult. I desire that you will remember what I
formerly protested to Bromley, who is now lord
chancellor, and to the lord La War. To speak
to me of commissioners is a vain mockery of my
rank. Kings alone can be my peers. The laws
of England are unknown to me ; and I have no
counsellors to whose wisdom I can apply for
instruction. My papers and commentaries have
been taken from me ; and no person can have
the perilous courage to appear as my advocate.
I have indeed recommended myself and my
condition to foreign princes ; but I am clear
of the guilt of having conspired the destruction
of Elizabeth, or having incited any person what-
soever to destroy her. It is only by my own
2 N
546
SCOTLAND.
words and writings that an imputation of this
kind can be supported; and I am conscious,
beyond the possibility of a doubt, that these
evidences cannot be employed against me.' The
day after she had in this manner refused to
allow the jurisdiction of the commissioners, Pau-
let and Barker returned to her, and informed her
that they had put her speech into writing, and
desired to know if she would abide by it. She
heard it read distinctly, acknowledged it to be
rightly taken, and avowed her readiness to per-
sist in the sentiments she had delivered. But
she added there was a circumstance to which
she had omitted to speak. 'Your queen,r said
she ' affects in her letter to observe that I am
subject to the laws of England, because I have
lived under their protection. This sentiment
and mode of thinking are very surprising to
me. I came into England to crave her assis-
tance and aid ; and, ever since, I have been con-
fined to a prison. The miseries of captivity
cannot be called a protection, and the treatment
I have suffered is a violation of all law.'
This afflicted but undaunted princess, after
having thus disputed the competency and re-
pelled the pretexts of the commissioners, was
induced at last, by arguments under the insidi-
ous mask of candor and friendship, to depart
from the proper and dignified ground which she
had taken, and consent to that mode of trial
which had been proposed. It was represented
to her, by Hatton the vice-chamberlain, that by
rejecting a trial she injured her own reputation
and interests, and deprived herself of the only
opportunity of setting her innocence in a clear
light to the present and to future times. Imposed
upon by this artifice, she consented to make her
appearance before the judges ; at the same time,
however, she still protested against the jurisdic-
tion of the court, and the validity of their pro-
ceedings. After various formalities, the lord
chancellor opened the case ; and was followed
by serjeant Gawdry, who proceeded to explain
the statute, and to demonstrate that she had of-
fended against it. He then entered into a detail
of Babington's conspiracy ; and concluded by
affirming ' that Mary knew it, had approved it,
had promised her assistance, and had pointed out
the means to effect it.' Proofs of this charge
were exhibited against her, and displayed with
great art. The letters were read which Sir
Francis Walsingham or his emissaries had forged.
Her secretaries had afforded all the necessary
intelligence about the conspiracy, upon which to
frame a correspondence between Mary and Ba-
bington, and upon which despatches might be
fabricated in her name to her foreign friends ;
and the ciphers were furnished by them. But,
beside these pretended letters, another species of
evidence was held out against her. Babington,
proud of the despatch sent to him in her name by
Walsingham ana Gifford, returned an answer to
it; and a reply from her by the same agency was
transmitted to him. Deluded, and in toils, he
communicated these marks of her attention to
Savage and Ballard, the most confidential of his
associates. His confession and theirs became
thus of importance. Nor were her letters and
the confessions of these conspirators deemed
sufficient vouchers of her guilt. Her secretaries,
therefore, were engaged to subscribe a declara-
tion that the despatches in her name were written
by them at her command, and according to her
instructions. These branches of evidence, put
together with skill, and heightened with all the
imposing colors of eloquence, were pressed upon
Mary. Though she had been long accustomed
to the perfidious inhumanity of her enemies, her
amazement was infinite. She lost not, however,
her courage ; and her defence was alike expres-
sive of her penetration and magnanimity : ' the
accusation preferred to my prejudice is a most
detestable calumny. I wa* not engaged with
Babington in his conspiracy ; and I am altoge-
ther innocent of having plotted the death of
Elizabeth. The copies of Babington's letters
which have been produced may indeed be taken
from originals which are genuine ; but it is im-
possible to prove that I ever received them. Nor
did he receive from me the despatches addressed
to him in my name. His confession, and those
of his associates, which have been urged to es-
tablish the authority of my letters to him, are
imperfect and vain. If these conspirators could
have testified any circumstances to my hurt, they
would not so soon have been deprived of their
lives. Tortures, or the fear of the rack, extorted
improper confessions from them ; and then they
were executed. Their mouths were open to utter
false criminations ; and immediately were shut
for ever, that the truth might be buried in their
graves. It was no difficult matter to obtain
ciphers which I had employed ; and my adver-
saries are known to be superior to scruples. I
am informed that Sir Francis Walsingham has
been earnest to recommend himself to his sove-
reign by practices both against my life and that
of my son ; and the fabrication of papers, by
which to effectuate my ruin, is a business not
unworthy of his ambition. Evidence, the most
clear and incontestable, is necessary to overthrow
my integrity; but proofs, the most feeble and
suspicious, are held out against me. Let one letter
be exhibited, written in my hand, or that bears
my superscription, and 1 will instantly acknow-
ledge that the charge against me is sufficiently
supported. The declaration of my secretaries is
the effect of rewards or of terror. They are
strangers ; and to overcome their virtue was
an easy achievement to a queen whose power is
absolute, whose riches are immense, and whose
ministers are profound and daring in intrigues and
treachery. I have often had occasion to suspect
the integrity of Naw ; and Curl, whose capacity
is more limited, was always most obsequious to
him. They may have written many letters in
my name without my knowledge or participa-
tion : may have put many things into despatches
which are prejudicial to Elizabeth; and may even
have subscribed their declaration to my preju-
dice, under the prepossession that the guilt which
would utterly overwhelm them might be pardoned
in me. I have never dictated any letter to them
which can be made to correspond with their tes-
timony. And what, fet me ask, would become
of the grandeur, the virtue, and the safety of
princes, if they depended upon the writings and
declarations of secretaries ? Nor let it be forgotten
SCOTLAND.
547
that, by acting in hostility to the duty and alle-
giance which .they solemnly swore to observe to
me, they have utterly incapacitated themselves
from obtaining any credit. The violation of their
oath of fidelity is an open perjury ; and of such
men the protestations are nothing. But, if they
are yet in life, let them be brought before me.
It argues not the fairness of the proceedings
against me that this formality is neglected. I
am also without the assistance of an advocate ;
and, that I might be defenceless and weak in
the greatest degree, I have been robbed of my
papers and commentaries. As to the copies or the
despatches which are said to have been written
by my direction to Mendoza, the lord Paget,
Charles Paget, the archbishop of Glasgow, and
Sir Francis Inglefield, they are most unprofitable
forgeries. For they tend only to show that I
was employed in encouraging my friends to in-
vade England. Now, if I should allow that these
despatches were genuine, it could not be inferred
from them that I had conspired the death of
Elizabeth. I will even confess that I have yielded
to the strong impulses of nature ; and that, like
a human creature, encompassed with dangers
and insulted with wrongs, I have exerted myself
to recover my greatness and my liberty. The
efforts I have made can excite no blushes in me ;
for the voice of mankind must applaud them.
Religion even cannot look to them with reproach.
I have sought by every art of concession and
friendship to engage my sister to put a period
to my sufferings. Invited by her smiles, I ven-
tured into her kingdom, in the pride and gaiety
-f my youth ; and, under her anger and the
iiiiseries of captivity, I have grown into age.
V)uring a calamitous confinement of twenty years,
my youth, my health, my happiness, are for ever
gone. To her tenderness and generosity I have
been indebted as little as to her justice ; and,
oppressed and agonizing with unmerited afflic-
tions and hardships, I scrupled not to beseech
the princes my allies to employ their armies to
relieve me. Nor will I deny that I have endea-
voured to promote the advantage and interest
of the persecuted Catholics of England. My
intreaties in their behalf have even been offered
with earnestness to queen Elizabeth herself. But
the attainment of my kingdom, the recovery of
my liberty, and the advancement of that religion
which I love, could not induce me to stain myself
with the crimes that are objected to me. I would
disdain to purchase a crown by the assassination
of the meanest of the human race. To accuse
me of scheming the death of the queen my sister
is to brand me with the infamy which 1 abhor.
It is my nature to employ the devotions of
Esther, and not the sword of Judith. Elizabeth
herself will attest that I have often admonished
her not to draw upon her head the resentment
of my friends by the enormity of her cruelties
to me. My innocence cannot sincerely be doubt-
ed ; and it is known to the Almighty God that
I could not possibly think to forego his mercy,
and to ruin my soul, to compass a transgression
so horrible as that of her murder. My crimes are,
my birth, the injuries 1 have been compelled to
endure, and my religion. I am proud of the first ;
1 can forgive the second ; and the third is to me a
source of such comfort and hope that for its glory
I will be contented that my blood shall flow upon
the scaffold.' To the defence of Mary no answer
was made beside stout and unsupported affirm-
ations of the truth of the evidence produced to
her prejudice. In the course of the trial, how-
ever, lord Burleigh, who was willing to discom-
pose her, charged her with a fixed resolution of
conveying her claims and titles to England to
the king of Spain. She acknowledged that the
Spaniard professed to have pretensions to the
kingdom of England, and that a book in justi-
fication of them had been communicated to her.
But she declared that she had incurred the dis-
pleasure of many by disapproving of this book ;
and that no conveyance of her titles had ever
been executed. The trial continued during the
space of two days ; but the commissioners avoided
to deliver their opinions. Lord Burleigh, in
whose management Elizabeth chiefly confided,
and whom the Scottish queen discomposed in
no common degree by her ability and vigor, being
eager to conclude the business, asked if she had
any thing to add to what she had urged in her
defence. She informed him that she would be
infinitely pleased if it should be permitted to her
to be heard in her justification before a full
meeting of the parliament, or before the queen
and her privy-council. This intimation was un-
expected ; but the request was rejected. The
court, in consequence of previous instructions
from Elizabeth, adjourned to a farther day, and
appointed that the place of its convention should
be the stai-chamber at Westminster. It accord-
ingly assembled there; and Naw and Curl, who
had not been produced at Fotheringay castle,
were now called before the commissioners. They
swore that the declaration they had subscribed
was in every respect just and faithful. Nothing
farther remained but to pronounce sentence
against Mary. The commissioners unanimously
concurred in delivering it as their verdict, or
judgment, that she ' was a party to the conspiracy
of Babington ; and that she had compassed and
imagined matters within the* realm of England
tending to the hurt, death, and destruction of the
royal person of Elizabeth, in opposition to the
statute framed for her protection.' Upon the
same day in which this extraordinary sentence
was given the commissioners and the judges of
England issued a declaration, which imported
that it was not to derogate in any degree from the
titles and honor of the king of Scots. The sen-
tence against Mary was very soon afterwards
ratified by the English parliament.
King James was struck with horror at hearing
of the proposed execution of his mother; but
that spiritless prince could show his resentment
no farther than by unavailing embassies and re-
monstrances. France interposed in the same
ineffectual manner ; and on the 6th December,
1586, Elizabeth caused the sentence of the com-
missioners against her to be proclaimed. After
this she was made acquainted with h'er fate, and
received the news with the greatest composure,
and even apparent satisfaction. Her keepers
now refused to treat her with any reverence or
respect. They entered her apartment with their
heads covered, and made no obeisance to her.
2 N 2
548
SCOTLAND.
They took down her canopy of state, and de-
prived her of ali the badges of royalty. By these
insulting mortifications they meant to inform her
that she had sunk from the dignity of a princess
to the abject state of a criminal. She smiled,
and said, ' In despite of your sovereign and her
subservient judges, I will live and die a queen.
My royal character is indelible ; and I will sur-
render it with my spirit to the Almighty God,
from whom I received it, and to whom my honor
and my innocence are fully known.' In this
melancholy situation Mary addressed a magna-
nimous letter to Elizabeth, in which, without
making the least solicitation for her life, she only
requested that her body might be carried to
France ; that she might be publicly executed ;
that her servants might be permitted to depart
out of England unmolested, and enjoy the lega-
cies which she bequeathed them. But to this
letter no answer was given. In the mean time
James, who had neither address nor courage to
attempt any thing in behalf of his mother, an-
nounced her situation to his bigoted subjects,
and ordered prayers to be said for her in all the
churches. The form of the petition he prescribed
was framed with delicacy and caution, that the
clergy might have no objection to it. He en-
joined them to pray ' that it might please God
to enlighten Mary with the light of his truth, and
to protect her from the danger which was hanging
over her.' His own chaplains, and Mr. David
Lindsay minister of Leilh, observed his com-
mand. But all the other bigoted clergy refused
to prefer any petitions to the Almighty for a
papist. James, shocked with their spirit of into-
lerance and sedition, appointed a new day for
prayers to be said for Mary, and issued a stricter
injunction to the clergy ; and, that he might be
free himself from any insult, he ordered the arch-
bishop of St. Andrews to preach before him.
The ecclesiastics persuaded John Cowper, a pro-
bationer, to occupy the pulpit designed for the
archbishop. When the king entered the church
he testified his surprise, but told Cowper that if
he would obey his injunction, he might proceed
to officiate. Cowper replied ' that he would do
as the Spirit of God should direct him.' The
king commanded him to retire, and the captain of
his guard advanced to compel him to obedience.
The enraged probationer exclaimed that this vio-
lence ' would witness against the king in the
great day of the Lord ;' and denounced a curse
against the spectators for not exerting themselves
in his defence. The archbishop, now ascending
the pulpit, performed with propriety the function
to which he had been called, and recommended
moderation and charity to the audience. In the
afternoon Cowper was cited before the privy-
council ; and was accompanied there by Mr.
Walter Balcanqual and Mr. William Watson,
two ministers remarkable for their zeal. As a
punishment for his audacious petulance he was
committed, to the castle of Blackness ; and his
attendants, having distinguished themselves by
an impudent vindication of him, were prohibited
from preaching during the pleasure of the king.
Elizabeth, in the mean while, felt the torment of
miserable passions. At times she courted the
sadness of solitude, and refused to be consoled
or to speak. In other seasons her sighs wr r»
frequent, and she broke out into loud and wild
exclamations expressive of the state of her mind.
Her subjects waited the determination of her
will in distracting agitation. Her cruel ministers,
who knew that it is the nature of fear to exclude
pity, were industrious in inventing terrifying in-
telligence, and in circulating it through the king-
dom ; such as that the Spanish fleet had arrived
at Milford Haven ; that a formidable army of
Scottish combatants was advancing to the capital :
that the duke of Guise had disembarked many
troops of veteran soldiers in Sussex ; that Mary
had escaped out of prison, and was collecting the
English Catholics ; that the northern counties
had thrown aside their allegiance ; and that there
was a new plot to kill Elizabeth, and to reduce
London to ashes. An actual conspiracy was even
maliciously charged upon L'Aubespine the French
resident ; and he was forced to withdraw from
England in disgrace. From the terrors which
the ministers of Elizabeth were so studious to
excite, they invariably inferred that the tranquil-
lity of the kingdom could alone be re-established
by the speedy execution of the Scottish queen.
While the nation was thus artfully prepared for
the destruction of Mary, Elizabeth ordered
secretary Davidson to bring to her the warrant
for her death. Having perused it, she observed
that it was expressed in proper terms, and annexed
her subscription. Though she earnestly desired
the death of Mary, she was yet terrified to en-
counter its infamy. She was solicitous to accom-
plish this base transaction by some method which
would conceal her consent to it. After int mating
to Davidson an anxious wish that its blame
should be removed from her, she counselled him
to join with Walsingham in addressing a letter
to Sir Amias Paulet and Sir Drue Drury, recom-
mending it to them to manifest their love to her
by shedding privately the blood of her adversary.
The unlawfulness of this deed affected Davidson,
and he objected to it. She repeated absolutely her
injunctions, and he departed to deliver them. A
letter under his name and that of Walsingham was
despatched to Mary's keepers, communicating
to them her purpose. Corrupted by her pas-
sions, and lost to the sensibilities of virtue, Eli-
zabeth had now reached the last extremity of this
wickedness. Though a sovereign princess, and
entrusted with the cares of a great nation, she
blushed not to charge her ministers to enjoin a
murder — a murder connected with every circum-
stance that could make it most frightful and
horrid. The victim for whose blood she thirsted
was a woman, a queen, a relation, splendid with
beauty, eminent in ability, magnanimous under
misfortunes, and who had fled to her for refuge
from her enemies. A wild Arab would have
spared his enemy on this principle alone. Sir
Amias Paulet and Sir Drue Drury, though the
slaves of religious prejudices, felt an elevation of
mind which reflected the greatest disgrace upon
the sovereign. They considered themselves
as grossly insulted by the proposal ; and they
assured Walsingham that the queen might com-
mand their lives and their property, but that they
would never consent to part with their honor,
and to stain themselves and their posterity with
SCOTLAND.
549
the guilt of an assassination. When Davidson
carried their despatch to her slie broke out into
anger. Their scrupulous delicacy, she said, was
an infringement of their oath of association ; and
they were nice, precise, and perjured traitors.
She then recommended one \V ingfield to strike
the blow. The astonished secretary exclaimed
with warmth against a mode of proceeding so
unwarrantable. He protested that, if she should
take upon herself the blame of this deed, it would
pollute her with the blackest dishonor ; and
that, if she should disavow it, she would over-
throw for ever the reputation, the estates, and
the children of the persons who should assist in
it. She heard him with pain, and withdrew
from him with precipitation. The warrant, after
having been communicated to Walsingham, was
carried to the chancellor, who put the great seal
to it. This formality was hardly concluded when
a message from Elizabeth prohibited Davidson
from waiting upon the chancellor till he should
receive farther instructions. Within an hour
after he received a second message to the same
purpose. He hastened to court, and Elizabeth
asked eagerly if he had seen the chancellor. He
answered in the affirmative ; and she exclaimed
with bitterness against his haste. He said that
he had acted exactly as she had directed him.
She continued to express warmly her displeasure ;
but gave no command to stop the operation of
the warrant. In a state of uneasiness and ap-
prehension he communicated her behaviour to
the chancellor and the privy-council. These
courtiers, however, who were well acquainted
with the arts of their mistress, and who knew
how to flatter her, paid no attention to him. They
perceived, or were secretly informed, that she
desired to have a pretence upon which to com-
plain of the secretary, and to deny that he had
obeyed her instructions. They observed to him
that, by subscribing the warrant, she had per-
formed what the law required of her; and that it
was not proper to delay the execution any longer.
While they were anxious to please Elizabeth,
they were conscious of their own cruelty to
Mary, and did not imagine that they could be
in security while she lived. They despatched
the warrant to the earls of Shrewsbury and Kent,
with instructions to them to fulfil it. When the
two earls and their retinue reached Fotheringay
castle they found Mary sick, and reposing upon
her bed. They insisted, notwithstanding, on
being introduced to her. Being informed by her
servants that the message they brought was im-
portant and pressing, she prepared to receive
them. They were conducted into her presence
by Sir Amias Faulet and Sir Drue Drury ; and
with little formality they told her that Elizabeth
had consented to her death, and that she was to
suffer the next morning at eight o'clock. Then
Beale, one of the clerks of the privy-council, who
accompanied them, read over the warrant, which
she heard with pious composure and unshaken
fortitude. They then affected to justify their
mistress by entering into details concerning the
conspiracy of Babington. She put her hand upon
the Scriptures, which lay upon a table near her,
and swore in the most solemn manner that she
never devised, consented to, or pursued the
death of Elizabeth in any shape whatsoever. The
earl of Kent, unwisely zealous for the Protestant
religion, excepted against her oath, as being made
upon a popish Bible. She replied to him mildly,
' It is for this very reason, my lord, to be relied
upon with the greater security ; for I esteem the
popish version of the Scriptures to be the most
authentic.' Indulging his puritanical fervor he
declaimed against popery, counselled her to re-
nounce its errors, and recommended to her at-
tention Dr. Fletcher dean of Peterborough. She
heard the dean with some impatience. Rising
into passion he exclaimed, that ' her ^ife would
be the death of their religion, and that her death
would be its life.'
After informing him that she was unalterably
fixed in her religious sentiments, she desired that
her confessor might have the liberty to repair to
her ; when the two earls observed that their
consciences did not allow them to grant this re-
quest. She made enquiries concerning her secre-
taries Naw and Curl ; and asked whether it had
ever been heard of, in the wickedest times of the
most unprincipled nation, that the servants of a
sovereign princess had been suborned for the
purpose of destroying her ? They looked to one
another and were silent. Bourgoin her phy-
sician, who with her other domestics was pre-
sent at this interview, seeing the earls ready to
depart, besought them with an emphatic ear-
nestness to reflect upon the short and inadequate
portion of time that they had allotted to his mis
tress to prepare herself for death. He insisted
that a respect for her high rank, and the multi-
plicity and importance of her concerns, required
at least a period of some days. They pretended
not to understand the propriety of his petition,
and refused it. Upon the departure of the two
earls, her domestics gave a full vent to their
afflictions ; and while she experienced a melan-
choly pleasure in their tears, lamentations, and
kindness, she endeavoured to console them.
Their grief, she said, was altogether unavailing,
and could neither better her condition nor their
own. Her cause had every thing about it that
was most honorable ; and the miseries from
which she was to be relieved were the most
hopeless and the most afflicting. Instead of de-
jection and sadness, she therefore enjoined them
to he contented and happy. That she might
have the more leisure to settle her affairs, she
supped early, and, according to her usual cus-
tom, ate little. While at table, she remarked to
Bourgoin, her physician, that the force of truth
was insurmountable ; for that the earl of Kent,
notwithstanding the pretence of. her having con-
spired against Elizabeth, had plainly informed
her that her death would be the security of their
religion. When supper was over, she ordered all
her servants to appear before her, and treated
them with the kindness which we have men-
tioned in her life. See MARY. She then en-
tered her bed-chamber with her women ; and
employed herself in religious duties. At her ac-
customed time she went to sleep; and, after
enjoying some hours of sound rest, awoke; then
gave herself to further pious meditation, and par-
took of a consecrated host, which a melancholy
presentiment of her cnlamities haa induced her
550
SCOTLAND.
to obtain from pope Pius V. At the break of
day she arrayed herself in rich, but becoming
apparel ; and, calling together her servants, she
ordered her will to be read, and apologised for
the smallness of their legacies from her inability
to be more generous. Following the arrange-
ment she had previously made, she then dealt
out to them her goods, ward-robe, and jewels.
To Bourgoin her physician she committed the
care of her will, with a charge that he would de-
liver it to her principal executor, the duke of
Guise. She also entrusted him with tokens of
her affection for the king of France, the queen-
mother, and her relations of the house of Lorrain.
Bidding now an adieu to all worldly concerns,
she retired to her oratory, where she was seen
sometimes kneeling at the altar, and sometimes
standing motionless with her hands joined, and
her eyes directed to heaven. While she was
thus engaged, Thomas Andrews, the high sheriff,
announced to her that the hour for execution
was arrived. She came forth dressed m a gown
of black silk; her petticoat was bordered with
crimson velvet; a veil of lawn bowed out with
wire, and edged with bone lace, was fastened to
her caul, and hung down to the ground ; an
Agnus Dei was suspended from her neck by a
pomander chain ; her beads were fixed to her
girdle ; and she bore in her hand a crucifix of
ivory. Amidst the screams and lamentations of
her women she descended the stairs ; and in the
porch she was received by the earls of Kent and
Shrewsbury with their attendants. Here, too,
she met Sir Andrew Melvil the master of her
household, whom her keepers had long debarred
from her presence. Throwing himself at her feet,
and weeping aloud, he deplored his sad destiny,
and the sorrowful tidings he was to carry into
Scotland. After she had spoken to Melvil, she
besought the two earls that her servants might be
treated with civility, that they might enjoy the
presents she had bestowed upon them, and that
they might receive a safe conduct to depart out
of the dominions of Elizabeth. These slight fa-
vors were readily granted. She then begged
that they might be permitted to attend her to
the scaffold, that they might be witnesses of her
behaviour at ner death. To this request the earl
of Kent discovered a strong reluctance. He said
that they would behave with an intemperate
passion ; and that they would practise super-
stitious formalities, and dip their handkerchiefs
in her blood. She replied that she was sure
that none of their actions would be blameable ;
and that it was but deceut that some of her
women should be about her. The earl still hesi-
tating, she was affected with the insolent and
stupid indignity of -his malice, and exclaimed,
' I am cousin to your mistress, and descended
from Henry VII. I am a dowager of France,
and the anointed queen of Scotland.' The earl
of Shrewsbury interposing, it was agreed that
she should select two of her women who might
assist her in her last moments, and a few of her
men-si rv;m!s, \vho might behold her demeanour,
and report it. She entered the hall where she
was to suffer, and advanced with an air of grace
and majesty to the scaffold, which was built at
rs farthest extremity. The sj-»ectators wc-ro nu-
merous. Her magnanimous carriage, her beauty,
which was still striking, and her matchless mis-
fortunes, affected them. They gave way to con-
tending emotions of awe, admiration, and pity.
She ascended the scaffold with a firm step and a
serene aspect, and turned her eye to the block,
the axe, and the executioners. The spectators
were dissolved in tears. A chair was placed for
her, in which she seated herself. Silence was
commanded ; and Beale read aloud the warrant
for her death. She heard it attentively, yet with
a manner from which it might be gathered that
ner thoughts were employed upon a subject
more important. Dr. Fletcher, taking his station
opposite to her without the rails of the scaffold,
counselled her to repent of her crimes; and,
while he inveighed against her attachment to
popery, he threatened her with everlasting fire if
she should delay to renounce its errors. His
behaviour was highly indecent and coarse.
Twice she interrupted him with great gentleness.
But he pertinaciously continued his exhortations.
Raising her voice she commanded him with a
resolute tone to with-hold his indignities and
menaces, and not to trouble her any more about
her faith. I was born, said she, in the Roman
Catholic religion ; I have experienced its com-
forts during my life, in the trying seasons of
sickness, calamity, and sorrow ; and I am re-
solved to die in it. The two earls, ashamed of
his savage obstinacy, admonished him to desist,
and to content himself with praying for her con-
version. He entered upon a long prayer; while
Mary falling upon her knees, and disregarding
him, employed herself in devotion. Her women
now assisted her to disrobe; and, the execu-
tioners offering their aid, she repressed their for-
wardness, observing that she was not accus-
tomed to be. attended by such servants, nor to be
undressed before so large an assembly. Her
upper garments being laid aside, she drew upon
her arms a pair of silk gloves. Her women and
men servants burst out into loud lamentations.
She put her finger to her mouth to admonish
them to be silent, and then bad them a final adieu
with a smile that seemed to console, but that
plunged them into deeper woe She kneeled
resolutely before the block, and said, ' In thee,
0 Lord ! do I trust ; let me never be con-
founded.' She covered her eyes with a linen
handkerchief in which the eucharist had been
enclosed ; and stretching forth her body with
great tranquillity, and fitting her neck for the
fatal stroke, called out, ' Into thy hands, O God !
1 commit my spirit.' The executioner, from un-
skilfulness, or from inquietude, struck three
blows before he separated her head from her
body. He held it up mangled with wounds,
and streaming with blood ; and her hair, being
discomposed, was discovered to be already
gray. The dean of Peterborough alone cried
out, So let the enemies of Elizabeth perish.
The earl of Kent alone, in a low voice, answered,
Amen. All the other spectators were melted
into the tenderest sympathy and sorrow. Her
women hastened to protect her dead body from
the curiosity of the spectators ; and solaced
themselves with the thoughts of mourning over
it undisturbed when they should retire, and of
SCOTLAND.
551
laying it out on its funeral garb. But the two
earls prohibited them from discharging these me-
lancholy yet pleasing offices to their departed
mistress, and drove them from the hall. Bour-
goin her physician applied to them that he might
be permitted to take out her heart for the pur-
pose of preserving it, and of carrying it with
him to France. But they refused his entreaty
with auger. The executioners carried her re-
mains into an adjoining apartment ; and, tearing
a cloth from an old billiard table, thus covered
that form, once so beautiful. The block, the
cushion, the scaffold, and the garments, which
were stained with her blood, were consumed
with fire. Her body, after being embalmed and
committed to a leaden coffin, was buried with
royal splendor and pomp in the cathedral of
Peterborough. See M A RY. Elizabeth, who had
treated her like a criminal while she lived, seemed
disposed to acknowledge her for a queen when
she was dead.
On the death of his mother the full govern-
ment of the kingdom devolved on James her son:
and Elizabeth, justly apprehensive of his resent-
ment for her treatment of his mother, wrote him
a letter, in which she disclaimed all knowledge
of the fact. James had received intelligence of
the murder before the arrival of this letter, sent
by one Gary. The messenger was stopped at
Berwick by an order from the king, telling him
that, if Mary had been executed, he should pro-
ceed at his peril. James shut himself up in
Dalkeith Castle, to indulge himself in grief;
but the natural levity and imbecility of his mind
prevented him from acting in any degree as be-
came him. Instead of resolutely adhering to his
first determination of not allowing Gary to set foot
in Scotland, he in a few days gave his consent
that he should be admitted to an audience of
certain members of his privy council, who took a
journey to the borders on purpose to wait upon
him. In this conference, Gary demanded that the
league of amity between the two kingdoms should
be inviolably observed. He said that his mis-
tress was grieved at the death of Mary, which
had happened without her consent; and, in
Elizabeth's name, offered any satisfaction that
James could demand. The Scottish commis-
sioners treated Gary's speech and proposal with
becoming disdain. They observed that they
amounted to no more than to know whether James
was disposed to sell his mother's blood ; adding that
the Scottish nobility and people were determined to
revenge it, and to interest in their quarrel the
other princes of Europe. Upon this Gary deli-
vered to them the letter from Elizabeth, together
with a declaration of his own concerning the
murder of the queen. This reception of her
ambassador threw Elizabeth into the utmost con-
sternation. She was apprehensive that James
would join his force to that of Spain, and entirely
overwhelm her ; and, had the resentment or the
spirit of the king been equal to that of the na-
tion, it is probable that the haughty English
princess would have been made severely to
repent her perfidy and cruelty. It does not,
however, appear that James had any serious in-
tention of calling Elizabeth to an account for the
murder of his mother; for which, perhaps, his
natural imbecility may be urged as an excuie,
though it is more probable that his own necessity
for money had swallowed up every other consider-
ation. By the league formerly concluded with
England it had been agreed that Elizabeth should
pay an annual pension to the king of Scotland.
James had neither economy to make his own
revenue answer his purposes, nor address to get
it increased. He was therefore always in want ;
and, as Elizabeth had plenty to spare, her friend-
ship became a valuable acquisition. To this con-
sideration, joined to his view of ascending the
English throne, must be ascribed the little resent-
ment shown by him to the atrocious conduct of
Elizabeth, who continued to exert her usual arts
of dissimulation and treachery. She prosecuted
and fined secretary Davidson and lord Burleijjli
for the active part they had taken in Mary's death :
their punishment was indeed much less than they
deserved, but they certainly did not merit such
treatment at her hands. Walsingham, though
equally guilty, escaped by pretending indisposi-
tion, or perhaps because the queen had still occa-
sion for his services. By her command he drew
up a long letter addressed to lord Thirlston, king
James's prime minister; in which he showed the
necessity of putting Mary to death, and the folly
of attempting to revenge it. He boasted of the
superior force of England to that of Scotland ;
showed James that he would for ever ruin his
pretensions to the English crown, by involving
the two nations in a war ; that he ought not to
trust to foreign alliances; that the Roman Ca-
tholic party were so divided among themselves
that he could receive no assistance from them,
even supposing him so ill advised as to change
his own religion for that of popery, and they
would not trust his sincerity. Lastly, he attempt-
ed to show that James had already discharged all
the duty towards his mother and his own reputa-
tion that could be expected from an affectionate
son and a wise king; that his interceding for her,
with a concern so becoming nature, had endeared
him to the kingdom of England ; but that it would
be madness to push his resentment farther. This
letter had all the effect that could be desired.
James gave an audience to the English ambassa-
dor; and being assured that his blood was not
tainted by the execution of his mother for treason
against Elizabeth, but that he was still capable of
succeeding to the crown of England, he consent-
ed to make up matters, and to address the mur-
derer of his mother by the title of loving and af-
fectionate sister.
The reign of James, till his accession to the
crown of England by Elizabeth's death in 1603,
affords little matter of moment. His scandalous
concessions to Elizabeth, and his constant appli-
cations to her for money, filled up the measure of
royal meanness. Ever since the expulsion of
Mary, the country had in fact been reduced to
the condition of an English province. The
sovereign had been tried by the queen of Eng-
land and executed for treason ; a crime, in th«
very nature of the thing, impossible, unless Scot-
land had been in subjection to England; and, to
complete all, the contemptible successor of Mary
thought himself well off that he was not a traitor
too to his sovereign the queen of England.
.052
SCOTLAND.
During the reign of Jan is Uie religious disturb-
ances which began at the Reformation, and that
violent struggle of the clergy for power, which
never ceased till the Revolution in 1688, went on
with great violence. Continual clamors were
raised against popery, at the same time that the
very fundamental principles of popery were held,
nay, urged in the most insolent manner, as the
effects of immediate inspiration. These were the
total independence of the clergy on every earthly
power, at the same time that all earthly powers
were to be subject to them. Their fantast.c de-
crees were supposed to be binding m heaven ; and
they took care that they should be binding on
earth ; for whoever had offended so far as to fall
under a sentence of excommunication was de-
clared an outlaw. This circumstance must have
contributed to disturb the public tranquillity in a
great degree. But, besides this, the weakness of
James's government was such that, under the
name of peace, the whole kingdom was involved
in the miseries of civil war; the feudal animosi-
ties revived, and slaughter and murder prevailed
all over the country. James, fitted only for pe-
dantry, disputed, argued, modelled, and remo-
delled the constitution to no purpose. The clergy
continued their insolence, and the laity their
violences upon one another ; at the same time that
the king, by his unhappy credulity in the opera-
tion of demons and witches, declared a most in-
human and bloody war against poor old women,
many of whom were burnt for the imaginary
crime of conversing with the devil. In autumn
1600 happened a remarkable conspiracy against
the liberty, if not the life of the king. The at-
tainder and execution of the earl of Gowrie for
the part he acted in the raid of Ruthven, and for
subsequent practices of treason, have been already
mentioned. His son, however, had been restored
to his paternal dignity and estates, and had in con-
sequence professed gratitude and attachment to
the king. But the Presbyterian clergy continued
to express their approbation of the raid of Ruth-
ven, and to declare on every occasion that in
their opinion the earl had suffered by an unjust
sentence. One of the most eminent and popular
of that order of men was preceptor to the younger
Gowrie and his brothers, who, from their frequent
conversations with him, must have been deeply
impressed with the belief that their father was
murdered. The passion of revenge took possession
of their breasts ; and having invited the king from
Falkland to the earl of Cowrie's house at Perth,
under the pretence of showing him a secret trea-
sure of foreign gold, which he might lawfully ap-
propriate to his own use, an attempt was made
to keep him close prisoner, with threats of putting
him to instant death, if he should make any at-
tempt to regain his liberty. The reality of this
conspiracy has been questioned by many writers,
because they could not assign a rational motive
for Cowrie's engaging in so hazardous an enter-
prise ; and some have even insinuated that the
conspiracy was entered into by the king against
Gowrie, to get possession of his lar^e estates It
Has been shown, however, by Arnot, in his Cri-
minal Trials, that the conspiracy was the earl's,
who seems to have intended that the king should
he cut off l>y the hund of an assassin ; nnd the
same writer has made it appear probable that hf
entertained hopes, in the then distracted state of
the nation not ill founded, of being able to mount
the throne of his murdered sovereign. Mr.
Cant, however, gives a very different opinion on
this event. The late learned and judicious lord
llailes, and the celebrated Dr. William Robert-
son, also totally discredit the story. From this
danger, whether real or fictitious, James was res-
cued by his attendants the duke of Lennox, the
earl of Mar, Sir Thomas Erskine, afterwards earl
of Kellie, and Sir John Ramsay who was enno-
bled; and Gowrie and his brother, falling in the
struggle, were attainted by an act of parliament,
their arms cancelled, and their whole estates for-
feited and annexed to the crown. The most me-
morable transaction of James's reign, and that
most to his honor, is the effort he made for civil-
ising the western islands. For this purpose iie
instituted a company of gentlemen adventurers,
to whom he gave large privileges : the method he
proposed was to transport numbers of the island-
ers to the low countries of Scotland, and to give
their islands, which were very improveable, in
fee to such of his lowland subjects as should
choose to reside in the islands. The experiment
was to be made upon the Lewes, a long range of
the Ebudae ; wherice the adventurers expelled
Murdoch Macleod, the tyrant of the inhabitants.
Macleod, however, kept the sea; and, intercept-
ing a ship which carried one of the chief adven-
turers, he sent him prisoner to Orkney, after
putting the crew to the sword. Macleod was
soon after betrayed by his own brother, and
hanged at St. Andrews. The history of this new
undertaking is rather dark ; and the settlers
themselves seem to have been defective in the
arts of civilisation. The arrangements they mado
were considered by the inhabitants as very op-
pressive; and one Norman, of the Macleod family,
attacked and subdued them so effectually that
they not only consented to yield the property of
the islands to him, but engaged to obtain the
king's pardon for what he had done. In 1589
king James married the princess Anne of Den-
mark, daughter of king Christian IV., to receive
whose hand he made a voyage to that country :
a visit which his father-in-law twice repaid. In
1603 James was called to the throne of England
by the death of Elizabeth, and the same year took
a final leave of Scotland. From this period the
history of Scotland, being blended with that of
England, is included in the article GREAT BRI-
TAIN.
Dr. Robertson depicts, in his best manner, the
arrival in Scotland of the actual tidings of the
accession of James to the English throne — his
journey — and the revolutions in the constitution
of Scotland consequent upon his accession.
The latter have been sufficiently important to jus-
tify a considerable extract in this place from the
pen of so able a writer : —
' As soon as she [queen Elizabeth] had
breathed her last,' observes our author, ' the lords
of the privy council proclaimed James king of
England. All the intrigues carried on by fo-
i -ners in favor of the Infanta, all the cabals
formed within the kingdom to support the titles
;ihella and the earl of HartfW 1, -li^ap-
SCOTLAND.
553
feared in a moment; the nobles and people,
forgetting their ancient hostilities with Scotland,
and their aversion for the dominion of strangers,
testified their satisfaction with louder acclama-
tions than were usual at the accession of their
native princes. Amidst this tumult of joy, a
motion made by a few patriots, who proposed to
prescribe some conditions to the successor, and
to exact from him the redress of some grievances,
before they called him to the throne, was scarcely
heard ; and Cecil, by stifling it, added to his
stock of merit with his new master. Sir Charles
Percy, brother of the earl of Northumberland,
and Thomas Somerset, the earl of Worcester's
son, were despatched to Scotland with a letter to
the king, signed by all the peers and privy coun-
cillors then in London, informing him of the
queen's death, of his accession to the throne, of
their care to recognise his title, and of the uni-
versal applause with which the public proclama-
tion of it had been attended. They made the
utmost haste to deliver this welcome message :
but were prevented by the zeal of Sir Robert
Carey, lord Hunsdon's youngest son, who, set-
ting out a few hours after Elizabeth's death, ar-
rived at Edinburgh on Saturday night, just as the
king had gone to bed, He was immediately
admitted into the royal apartment, and, kneeling
by the king's bed, acquainted him with the death
of Elizabeth, saluted him king of England,
Scotland, France, and Ireland ; and, as a token
of the truth of the intelligence which he brought,
presented him a ring, which his sister, lady
Scrope, had taken from the queen's finger after
her death. James heard him with a decent com-
posure. But, as Carey was only a private mes-
senger, the information which he brought was
not made public, and the king kept his apart-
ment till the arrival of Percy and Somerset.
Then his titles were solemnly proclaimed ; and
his own subjects expressed no less joy than the
English at this increase of his dignity. As his
presence was absolutely necessary in England,
where the people were extremely impatient to
see their new sovereign, he prepared to set out
for that kingdom without delay. He appointed
his queen to follow him within a few weeks. He
committed the government of Scotland to his
privy-council. He entrusted the care of his
children to different noblemen. On the Sunday
before his departure he repaired to the church of
St. Giles's, and after hearing a sermon, in which
the preacher displayed the greatness of the divine
goodness in raising him to the throne of such a
powerful kingdom without opposition or blood-
shed, and exhorted him to express his gratitude,
by promoting to the utmost the happiness and
prosperity of his subjects ; the king rose up,
and, addressing himself to the people, made many
professions of unalterable affection towards
them ; promised to visit Scotland frequently ;
assured them that his Scottish subjects, notwith-
standing his absence, sKjuld feel that he was
their native prince, no less than when he resided
among them ; and might still trust that his ears
should be always open to their petitions, which
he would answer with the alacrity and love of a
parent. His words were often interrupted by
the tears of the whole audience; who, though
they exulted at the king's prosperity, were melted
into sorrow by these tender declarations.
' On the 5th of April he began his journey
with a splendid, but not a numerous train ; and
next day he entered Berwick. Wherever he
came, immense multitudes were assembled to
welcome him ; and the principal persons in the
different counties through which he passed, dis-
played all their wealth and magnificence in en-
tertainments prepared for him at their houses.
Elizabeth reigned so long in England that most
of her subjects remembered no other court but
hers, and their notions of the manners and de-
corums suitable to a prince were formed upon
what they had observed there. It was natural to
apply this standard to the behaviour and actions
of their new monarch, and to compare him at first
sight with the queen on whose throne he was to
be placed. James, whose manners were ex-
tremely different from hers, suffered by the com-
parison. He had not that flowing affability by
which Elizabeth captivated the hearts of her
people ; and, though easy among a few whom he
loved, his indolence could not bear the fatigue of
rendering himself agreeable to a mixed multitude.
He was no less a stranger to that dignity with
which Elizabeth tempered her familiarity. And, in-
stead of that well-judged frugality with which she
conferred titles of honor, he bestowed them with
an undistinjjuishing profusion, that rendered them
no longer marks of distinction, or rewards of
merit. But these were the reflections of the few
alone; the multitude continued their acclama-
tions; and amidst these James entered London
on the 7th of May, and took peaceable posses-
sion of the throne of England. Thus were united
two kingdoms, divided from the earliest accounts
of time, but destined, by their situation, to form
one great monarchy. By this junction of its
whole native force, Great Britain has risen to an
eminence and authority in Europe, which Eng-
land and Scotland, while separate, could never
have attained.'
Our historian's reflections, on the alteration
produced in the political constitution of Scot-
land by this event, regard the state of the aristo-
cracy ; the new consequence given to the com-
mons ; the first establishment of Presbyteriani«m :
and the gradual assimilation of the Scottish to
the English nation in matters of taste, genius,
and literature : —
' The Scots,' he says, ' had so long considered
their monarchs as next heirs to the English throne,
that they had full leisure to reflect on all the con-
sequences of their being advanced to that dignity.
But dazzled with the glory of giving a sovereign
to their powerful enemy, relying on the partiality
of their native prince, and in full expectation of
sharing liberally in the wealth and honors which
he would now be able to bestow, they attended
little to the most obvious consequences of that
great event, and rejoiced at his accession to the
throne of England, as if it had been no less be-
neficial to the kingdom than honorable to the
king. They soon had reason, however, to adopt
very different sentiments, and from that period
we may date a total alteration in the political
constitution of Scotland.
' The feudal aristocntci/, which had been sub
554
SCOTLAND.
rcrted in most nations of Europe by the policy
of their princes, or had been undermined by the
progress of commerce, still subsisted with full
force in Scotland. Many causes had contributed
gradually to augment the power of the Scottish
nobles ; and even the Reformation, which, in
every other country where it prevailed, added to
the authority of the monarch, had increased their
wealth and influence. A king, possessed of a
small revenue, with a prerogative extremely li-
mited, and unsupported by a standing army,
could not exercise much authority over such po-
tent subjects. He was obliged to govern by ex-
pedients ; and the laws derived their force, not
from his power to execute them, but from the
voluntary submission ot the nobles. But though
this produced a species of government extremely
feeble and irregular ; though Scotland, under the
name, and with all the outward ensigns of a
monarchy, was really subject to an aristocracy,
the people were not altogether unhappy ; and,
even in this wild form of a constitution, there
were principles which tended to their security
and advantage. The king, checked and over-
awed by the nobles, durst venture upon no act
of arbitrary power. The nobles, jealous of the
king, whose claims and pretensions were many,
though his power was small, were afraid of irri-
tating their dependents by unreasonable exactions,
and tempered the rigor of aristocratical tyranny,
with a mildness and equality to which it is natu-
rally a stranger. As long as the military genius
of the feudal government remained in vigor the
vassals both of the crown and of the barons were
generally not only free from oppression, but
were courted by their superiors, whose power
and importance were founded on their attach-
ment and love. But, by his accession to the
throne of England, James acquired such an im-
mense accession of wealth, of power, and of
splendor, that the nobles, astonished and intimi-
dated, thought it vain to struggle for privileges
which they were now unable to defend. Nor
was it from fear alone that they submitted to the
yoke : James, partial to his countrymen, and
willing that they should partake in his good for-
tune, loaded them with riches and honors ; and
the hope of his favor concurred with the dread of
his power, in taming their fierce and indepen-
dent spirits. The will of the prince became the
supreme law in Scotland ; and the nobles strove,
with emulation, who should most implicitly
obey commands which they had formerly been
accustomed to contemn. Satisfied with having
subjected the nobles to the crown, the king left
them in full possession of their ancient jurisdic-
tion over their own vassals. The extensive
rights vested in a feudal chief became in their
hands dreadful instruments of oppression, and,
the military ideas on which these rights were
founded being gradually lost or disregarded,
nothing remained to correct or to mitigate the
rigor with which they were exercised. The
nobles, exhausting their fortunes by the expense
of frequent attendance vpon the English court,
and by attempts to imitate the manners and
luxury of their more wealthy neighbours, multi-
plied exactions upon the people, who durst
hardly utter complaints which they knew would
never reach the- ear of their sovereign, nor move
him to grant them any redress. From the union
of the crowns to the Revolution, in 1688, Scot-
land was placed in a political situation of all
others the most singular and the most unhappy :
subjected at once to the absolute will of a mo-
narch, and to the oppressive jurisdiction of an
aristocracy, it suffered all the miseries peculiar
to both these forms of government. Its kings
were despotic ; its nobles were slaves and ty-
rants ; and the people groaned under the rigor-
ous domination of both. During this period,
the nobles, it is true, made one effort to shake off
the yoke, and to regain their ancient indepen-
dence. After the death of James, the Scottish
nation was no longer viewed by our monarchs
with any partial affection. Charles I., educated
among the English, discovered no peculiar at-
tachment to the kingdom of which he was a na-
tive. The nobles, perceiving the sceptre to be
now in hands less friendly, and swayed by a
prince with whom they had little connexion,
and over whose councils they had little influence,
no longer submitted with the same implicit
obedience. Provoked by some encroachments
of the king on their order, and apprehensive of
others, the remains of their ancient spirit began
to appear. They complained and remonstrated.
The people being, at the same time, violently
disgusted at the innovations in religion, the
nobles secretly heightened this disgust ; and
their artifices, together with the ill conduct of
the court, raised such a spirit that the whole
nation took arms against their sovereign, with
a union and animosity of which there had for-
merly been no example. Charles brought against
them the forces of England, and notwithstand-
ing their own union, and the zeal of the people,
the nobles must have sunk in the struggle. But
the disaffection which was growing among his
English subjects prevented the king from acting
with vigor. A civil war broke out in both king-
doms ; and after many battles and revolutions,
which are well known, the Scottish nobles, who
first began the war, were involved in the same
ruin with the throne. At the restoration Charles
II. regained full possession of the royal preroga-
tive in Scotland ; and the nobles, whose estates
were wasted, or their spirit broken, by the cala-
mities to which they had been exposed, were
less able and less willing than ever to resist the
power of the crown. During his reign, and that
of James VII., the dictates of the monarch were
received in Scotland with the most abject sub-
mission. The poverty to which many of the
nobles were reduced rendered them meaner
slaves and more intolerable tyrants than ever.
The people, always neglected, were now odious,
and loaded with every injury on account of their
attachment to religious and political principles,
extremely repugnant to those adopted by their
princes.
' The Revolution introduced other maxims
into trie government of Scotland. To increase
the authority of the prince, or to secure the pri-
vileges of the nobles, had hitherto been almost
the sole object of our laws. The rights of the
people were hardly ever mentioned, were disre-
garded, or unknown. Attention began, hence-
SCOTLAND.
565
forward, to be paid to the welfare of the people.
By the ' claim of right,' their liberties were se-
cured ; and, the number of their representatives
being increased, they gradually acquired new
weight and consideration in parliament. As
they came to enjoy more security, and greater
power, their minds began to open, and to form
more extensive plans of commerce, of industry,
and of police. But the aristocratical spirit which
still predominated, together with many other
accidents, retarded the improvement and happi-
ness of the nation.
' Another great event completed what the Re-
volution had begun. The political power of the
nobles, already broken by the union of the two
crowns, was almost annihilated by the union of
the two kingdoms. Instead of making a part,
as formerly, of the supreme assembly of the na-
tion ; instead of bearing the most considerable
sway there, the peers of Scotland are admitted
into the British parliament by their representa-
tives only, and form but an inconsiderable part
of one of those bodies in which the legislative
authority is vested. They themselves are ex-
cluded absolutely from the house of commons,
and even their eldest sons are mt permitted to
represent their countrymen in that august assem-
bly. Nor have their feudal privileges remained,
to compensate for this extinction of their political
authority. As commerce advanced in its pro-
uress, and government attained nearer to perfec-
tion, these were insensibly circumscribed ; and
at last, by laws no less salutary to the public
than fatal to the nobles, they have been almost
totally abolished. As the nobles were deprived
of power, the people acquired liberty. Ex-
empted from burdens to which they were for-
merly subject, screened from oppression to which
they had been long exposed, and adopted into a
constitution whose genius and laws were more
liberal than their own, they have extended their
commerce, refined their manners, made improve-
ments in the elegancies of life, and cultivated the
arts and sciences.
' This survey of the political state of Scotland,
in which events and their causes have been men-
tioned rather than developed, enables us to point
out three eras, from each of which we may date
some great alteration in one or other of the three
different members of which the supreme legisla-
tive assembly in our constitution is composed.
At their accession to the throne of England, the
kings of Scotland, once the most limited, be-
came, in an instant, the most absolute princes
in Europe, and exercised a despotic authority,
which their parliaments were unable to control,
or their nobles to resist. At the union of the
two kingdoms, the feudal aristocracy, which had
subsisted so many ages, and with power so ex-
orbitant, was overturned, and the Scottish nobles,
having surrendered rights and pre-eminences
peculiar to their order, reduced themselves to a
condition which is no longer the terror and envy
of other subjects. Since the Union, the com-
mons, anciently neglected by their kings, and
seldom courted by the nobles, have emerged
into dignity; and, being admitted to a partici-
pation of all the piivileges which the English had
purchased at the expense of so much blood,
must now be deemed a body not less consider-
able in the one kingdom, than they had long been
in the other.
' The church felt the effects of the absolute
power which the king acquired by his accession ;
and its revolutions, too, are worthy of notice.
James, during the latter years of his administra-
tion in Scotland, had revived the name and office
of bishops. But they possessed no ecclesiastical
jurisdiction or pre-eminence; their revenues
were inconsiderable, and they were scarcely dis-
tinguished by any thing but by their seat in
parliament, and by being the object of the cler-
gy's jealousy, and the peoples hatred. The
king, delighted with the splendor and authority
which the English bishops enjoyed, and eager
to effect a union in the ecclesiastical polity
which he had in vain attempted in the civil go-
vernment of the two kingdoms, resolved to bring
both churches to an exact conformity with each
other. Three Scotsmen were consecrated bishops
at London. From them their brethren were
commanded to receive orders. Ceremonies un-
known in Scotland were imposed ; and though
the clergy, less obsequious than the nobles,
boldly opposed these innovations, James, long
practised and well skilled in the arts of ma-
naging them, obtained at length their com-
pliance. But Charles I., a superstitious prince,
unacquainted with the genius of the Scots, im-
prudent and precipitant in all the measures he
pursued in that kingdom, pressing too eagerly
the reception of the English liturgy, and indis-
creetly attempting a resumption of church lands,
kindled the flames of civil war ; and, the people
being left at liberty to indulge their own wishes,
the episcopal church was overturned, and the
Presbyterian government and discipline were re-
established with new vigor. Together with mo-
narchy, episcopacy was restored in Scotland. A
form of government so odious to the people
required force to uphold it ; and though not
only the whole rigor of authority, but all the
barbarity of persecution, were employed in its
support, the aversion of the nation was insur-
mountable, and it subsisted with difficulty. A.
the Revolution, the inclinations of the peopl:
were thought worthy the aitention of the legisla-
ture ; the Presbyterian government was again
established, and, being ratified by the Union, is
still maintained in the kingdom.
' Nor did the influence of the accession extend
to the civil and ecclesiastical constitutions alone;
the genius of the nation, its taste, and spirit,
things of a nature still more delicate, were sen-
sibly affected by that event. When learning re-
vived, in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, all
the modern languages were in a state extremely
barbarous, devoid of elegance, of vigor, and
even of perspicuity. No author thought of writ-
ing in language so ill adapted to express and em-
bellish his sentiments, or of erecting a work for
immortality with such rude and perishable mate-
rials. As the spirit which prevailed at that time
did not owe its rise to any original effort of the
human mind, but was excited chiefly by admira-
tion of the ancients, which began then to be stu-
died with attention in every part of Europe, their
compositions were deemed not only the standards
556
S C O T L A N D.
of taste and of sentiment, but of style ; and even
the languages in which they wrote were thought
to be peculiar, and almost consecrated to learn-
ing and the muses. Not only the manner of the
ancients was imitated, but their language was
adopted ; and extravagant as the attempt may
appear to write in a dead tongue, in which men
were not accustomed to think, and which they
could not speak, or even pronounce, the success
of it was astonishing. As they formed their
style upon the purest models ; as they were un-
infected with those barbarisms which the inac-
curacy of familiar conversation, the affectation
of courts, intercourse with strangers, and a thou-
sand oth/er causes, introduce into living languages;
many moderns have attained to a degree of ele-
gance in their Latin compositions which the Ro-
mans themselves scarcely possessed beyond the
limits of the Augustan age. While this was al-
most the only species of composition, and all
authors, by using one common language, could be
brought to a nearer comparison, the Scottish
writers were not inferior to those of any other
nation. The happy genius of Buchanan, equally
formed to excel in prose and in verse, more vari-
ous, more original, and more elegant, than that
of almost any other modern who writes in Latin,
reflects, with regard to this particular, the greatest
lustre on his country. But the labor attending
the study of a dead language was irksome ; the
unequal return for their industry which authors
met with, who could be read and admired only
within the narrow circle of the learned, was mor-
tifying ; and men, instead of wasting half their
lives in learning the language of the Romans,
began to refine and to polish their own. The
modern tongues were found to be susceptible
of beauties and graces, which, if not equal to
those of the ancient ones, were at least more
attainable. The Italians having first set the
example, Latin was no longer used in works
of taste ; it was confined to books of science ;
and the politer nations have banished it even
from these. The Scots, we may presume, would
have had no cause to regret this change in the
public taste, and would still have been able to
maintain some equality with other nations, in
their pursuit of literary honor. The English
and Scottish languages, derived from the same
sources, were, at the end of the sixteenth century,
in a state nearly similar, differing from one ano-
ther somewhat in orthography, though not only
the words, but the idioms, were much the same.
The letters of several Scottish statesmen of that
age are not inferior in elegance, or in purity, to
those of the English ministers with whom they
•corresponded. James himself was master of a style
far from contemptible ; and, by his example and
encouragement, the Scottish language might have
kept pace with the English in refinement. Scot-
land might have had a series of authors in its
own, as well as in the Latin language, to boast of;
and the improvements in taste, in the arts, and
in the sciences, which spread over the other po-
lished nations of Europe, would not have been
unknown there. But, at the very time when
other nations were beginning to drop the use of
I.itm in works of taste, and to make trial of the
strength and compass of their own luiigu :,
Scotland ceased to be a kingdom. The trans-
ports of joy which the accession at first occa-
sioned were soon over ; and the Scots being at
once deprived of all the objects that refine or
animate a people — of the presence of their
prince, of the concourse of their nobles, of the
splendor and elegance of a court — a universal
dejection of spirit seems to have seized the na-
tion. The court being withdrawn, no domestic
standard of propriety and correctness of speech
remained ; tlie few compositions that Scotland
produced were tried by the English standard,
and every word or phrase that varied in the least
from that was condemned as barbarous ; where-
as, if the two nations had continued distinct,
each might have retained idioms and forms of
speech peculiar to itself; and these, rendered
fashionable by the example of a court, and sup-
ported by the authority of writers of reputation,
might have been viewed in the same light with
the varieties occasioned by the different dialects
in the Greek tongue : they even might have been
considered as beauties, and in many cases might
have been used promiscuously by the authors of
both nations. But, by the accession, the English
naturally became the sole judges and lawgivers
in language, and rejected as solecisms every form
of speech to which their ear was not accustomed.
Nor did the Scots, while the intercourse between
the two nations was considerable, and ancient
prejudices were still so violent as to prevent imi-
tation, possess the means of refining their own
tongue according to the purity of the English
standard. On the contrary, new corruptions
flowed into it from every different source. The
clergy of Scotland, in that age, were more emi-
nent for piety than for learning; and, though
there did not arise many authors among them,
yet being in possession of the privilege of dis-
coursing publicly to the people, and their sermons
being too long, and perhaps too frequent, such
hasty productions could not he elegant, and many
slovenly and incorrect modes of expression may
be traced back to that original. The pleadings
of lawyers were equally loose and inaccurate, and
that profession having furnished more authors,.
and the matters of which they treat mingling
daily in common discourse and business, many of
those vicious forms of speech which are denomi-
nated Scotticisms have been introduced by them
into the language. Nor did either the language
or public taste receive any improvement in par-
liament, where a more liberal and more correct
eloquence might have been expected. All busi-
ness was transacted there by the lords of articles,
and they were so servilely devoted to the court
that few debates arose, and, prior to the Revolu-
tion, none were conducted with the spirit and
vigor natural to a popular assembly.
' Thus, during the whole seventeenth century,
the English were gradually refining their language
and their taste ; in Scotland, the former was much
debased, and the latter almost entirely lost. In
the beginning of that period, both nations were
emerging out of barbarity ; but the distance be-
tween them, which was then inconsiderable, be-
came, before the end of it immense. Even after
science had once dawned upon them, the Sr<>^
ted in lie sinking back into ignorance and
SCOTLAND.
5f>?
obscurity ; and, active and intelligent as they na-
turally are, they continued, while other nations
were eager in the pursuit of fame and knowledge,
in a state of languor. This, however, must be
imputed to the unhappiness of their political situa-
tion, not to any defect of genius ; for no sooner
was the one removed in any degree, than the other
began to display itself. The act abolishing the
power of the lords of articles, and other salutary
laws passed at the Revolution, having introduced
freedom of debate into the Scottish parliament,
eloquence, with all the arts that accompany or
perfect it, became immediate objects of attention ;
and the example of Fletcher of Salton alone is
sufficient to show that the Scots were still capable
of generous sentiments, and, notwithstanding
some peculiar idioms, were able 10 express
themselves with energy and with elegance. At
length the Union having incorporated the two
nations, and rendered them one people, the
extinctions which had subsisted for many ages
gradually wear away; peculiarities disappear;
the same manners prevail in both parts of the
islann ; the same authors are raad and admired ;
the same entertainments are frequented by the
elegant and polite ; and the same standard of
taste and purity of language is established.
The Scots, after being placed, during a whole
century, in a situation no less fatal to the liberty
than to the taste and genius of the nation, were
at once put in possesaion of privileges more va-
luable than those which their ancestors had for-
merly enjoyed; and every obstruction that had
retarded their pursuit, or prevented their acquisi-
tion of littrarv fame, was totally removed.'
Two curious papers, one published by Haynes,
and the other by Strype, are referred to by Dr.
Kobertson as affording a remarkable proof of the
little intercourse between the English and Scots
before the union of the two crowns. ' In the year
1 567 Elizabeth commanded the bishop of Lon-
don to take a survey of all the strangers within
the cities of London and Westminster. By this
report, which is very minute, it appears that the
whole number of Scots at that time was fifty-
eight. Haynes 455. A survey of the same
kind was made by Sir Thomas Row, lord mayor,
A. D.I 568. The number of Scots had then
increased to eighty-eight. Strype, iv. Supple-
ment, No. I. On the accession of James, a con-
siderable number of Scots, especially of the
higher rank, resorted to England ; but it was
not till the Union that the intercourse between
the two kingdoms became great.' We could al-
most suppose the number of our Northern coun-
trymen to be found in the 'Bank of England, at
the present time, would exceed that of either of
the above remarkable reports !
STATISTICS OF SCOTLAND.
In our article BRITAIN many of the great
common features of the island of Great Britain
are pointed out. In this place it can be only
necessary to enter more at large into what is pe-
culiar to Scotland : and we shall first conduct
the reader round her romantic and commercial
coasts. Our notice of the places must of course
be cursory. For farther information, in regard
to the chief towns, the reader will consult their
alphabetical places.
I. THE EAST COAST OF SCOTLAND, from the
entrance of the Tweed to the Frith of Forth, is
precipitous and rocky: the shore is covered with
sea-weed, chiefly fucus palmatus, which is used
as a manure and burnt into kelp. The cliffs are
the resort of a prodigious number of sea birds,
chiefly scouts and kittywakes (larus rissa) which
arrive in the spring, and, after having reared
their young, depart in the autumn ; they art-
taken for food by the poorer class. The tides on
this coast rise twenty feet.
Berwickshire. — The only harbour between
Berwick and the Forth is Eyemouth, a tide
haven formed by two piers, with twenty feet irt
the spring and sixteen in common tides. The
town lias a considerable share in the fishery, and
exports many thousand quarters of grain, chiefly
to Leith. Between Eyemouth and St. Abb's
Head is a fine bay with good anchorage. St.
Abb's is a noted promontory with the ruins of
a chapel ; it is said to have its name from a cer-
tain lady Ebba, abbess of Coldingham, who, to-
gether with her nuns on an invasion of the
Danes, cut off their noses to prevent their viola-
tion by the barbarians. Coldingham Loch is a
fresh water lake, one mile west of the head, and
a mile in circuit : though it receives no visible
stream it always remains full. Lunsden is a
fishing village north of the head.
East Lothian or Haddington. — Dunbar, on an
eminence, is a genteel and healthy town with a
castle on a ledge of rocks running into the sea,
and memorable as the scene of the simulated
outrage on Mary, queen of Scots, by Bothwel.
It has a small pier haven, defended by a battery :
its chief business is the fishery and the export of
corn. The Tyne River, the only one of any
consideration in the county, empties itself below
the village of Lintan ; though in summer it is a
torpid stream, the melting of the snows or rains
causes it at times to overflow. It has salmon
and trout. Tamtallon Castle, two miles east of
North Berwick, is a ruin on a rock overhanging
the sea which washes it on three sides. North
Berwick is a small town of about 2000 inhabi-
tants ; it has a pier haven and exports corn.
The Frith of Forth (Bodotria) is a great es-
tuary, whose entrance between the coasts of
Haddington and Fifeness, in Fifeshire, is seven
miles broad. The breadth decreases regularly
to Queensferry, where it is contracted by two
promontories to two miles. Above which it
again expands to a fine basin four miles broad,
and continues this breadth for several leagues.
In the Frith are several islands and rocks worthy
of notice. The Isle of Bass, near the south
shore, is a rock of great elevation overhanging
the sea ; on the north side, and on the brow of
the precipice, is an abandoned castle, at one pe-
riod the state prison of Scotland. The isles of
Inch Gowry, Inchcolm, Inchkeith, and May, are
the others worth notice. Inch Gowry has the
ruins of a castle ; and the ruins of a fort are
seen on Inchkeith, near the Fife shore of the
Frith. A few sheep are pastured on this island ;
it abounds with rabbits, has three good wells ana
658
SCOTLAND
a light-house. The other islands have nothing
deserving mention. See FORTH.
Both shores of the Frith of Forth are thickly
dotted with towns and villages, from which a
considerable fishery is carried on, and which ex-
port salt and coals. Those of the south shore
are port Sealon, a dry tide haven with twelve
feet depth, in springtides. Preston Pans, named
from its salt pans, has also a tide haven for small
craft, and employs ten boats in the oyster
fishery. It is the grand rendezvous of Scottish
pedlars, who meet here to enact regulations for
their community.
Edinboroughshire . — Musselburgh, at the mouth
of the little river Esk, has its name from the
mussel banks before it. Fine pearls are often
found in these fish. The *town has a small
haven.
Leith, the port of Edinburgh, is two miles
distant from the city ; but the increase of houses
has now nearly united them. Leith is on both
banks of the little river of the same name, and
has a large trade both foreign and coasting, par-
ticularly with London (see LEITH) ; it also sends
ships to the Greenland fishery.
Linlitkgow. — Queensferry, the usual crossing
place of the Frith of Forth, is a considerable
village, with some trade, and ship-building yards.
Borrowstownness, on the inner basin of the Frith,
is a busy place, having a considerable herring
fishery, a large coal trade, and a trade to the
Baltic. Its haven has sixteen to eighteen feet
spring tides, and is kept clean by a large basin
with four sluices, which are shut when the basin
is full at high water, and opened at low water,
so that the rush of the streams carry out the mud.
Fife. — The places deserving notice on the
north or Fife shore of the Frith are Crail, on an
elevation ; it has some sloops, and about a
dozen herring smacks. Kilrenny, East and West
Anstruthers, are also fishing villages, with some
sloop trade. Pittenween has a tide haven, with
eleven or twelve feet springs. It exports grain,
salt, and coals. Largo, on a considerable bay.
Dysart, a town of one principal street, builds
merchant ships for the Baltic trade ; has large
manufactories of salt. Kirkaldy, on a fine cove,
but is ill built, its principal street being most
disagreeably serpentine ana narrow. It has con-
siderable manufactures, and employs 4000 tons
of shipping. Kinghorn, .opposite Leith, and five
miles from it, is on a cliff overhanging the sea ;
its port, named Pettycur, is a fine basin at some
distance to the west, and is the usual crossing
place to Leith. Burnt Island is a village on a
peninsula, forming an excellent haven of easy
access, adapted for repairing or laying up ships;
it has some trade and ship building. Stanlyburn
has a pier haven. Inverkeithing is on the rising
ground of a bay, affording good anchorage ; it is
one of the quarantine harbours for Scotland ; it
exports coals and salt ; as do Terry Burn and
St. David's villages. St. Andrew's Bay is be-
tween Fifeness on the south, and Redhead on
the north, seven leagues distant. Nearly mid-
way is the dangerous Cape or Bell Rock, which
nearly dries at low water, and on which a light-
house has been recently built.
The city of St. Andrew's is on the south side
of the bay on a rocky point, and has a haven
formed by a pier, built on a natural ledge of free
stone running into the sea ; the depth is seven
to ten feet high water neaps, and fifteen to six-
teen in the springs. East and West Havens are
fishing Villages or creeks on the south shore of
St. Andrew's Bay. The Tay, which carries a
greater quantity of water to the sea than any
other river of Britain, issues from the loch of the
same name, and empties itself by an estuary
named the Frith of Tay, filled with shifting
banks. Vessels of considerable bui len ascend
the river to Perth, the chief town of Perthshire,
and export its corn, linen, linseed, oil, and sal-
mon, the produce of the Tay fishery. This
river had formerly a mussel pearl fishery that
some years produced £10,000, but it has been
entirely exhausted.
Angus. — Dundee on the north or Angus shore
of the Tay, twelve miles from its mouth, where
it is two miles broad, is a flourishing town with
a haven, formed by a pier, dry at low water ;
but, having nine or ten feet at high water neaps,
and fourteen at springs ; receiving vessels of
200 tons. Its trade is very considerable with
the Baltic and London; its exports are sail-
cloth, leather, cordage, thread, buckram, corn,
salmon, and herrings ; and its imports of va-
rious objects are estimated at 80,000 tons. It
also sends vessels to the Greenland fishery.
Passage vessels sail weekly to London. On
Bartonness, the north point of the Frith of Tay,
are two lights. Aberbrothic or Arbroath, at the
mouth of the Brothick, has a fine tide haven for
vessels of 200 tons, defended by a battery of
six twelve-pounders. It exports the linen and
sailcloth of its manufactories. Here are the
ruins of a celebrated Benedictine monastery
founded in 1 178. From the mouth of the Tay
to beyond Arbroath the coast is sandy and lined
with rocks. Here it becomes bold and preci-
pitous, with large caverns worn in the cliffs.
Redhead terminates this tract, rising in red cliffs
200 feet high, and bounding Lunan Bay on the
south, the shores of which are sandy, with sunken
rocks .as far as the North Esk River. In this
bay is good anchorage in southerly winds. On
"Redhead are the ruins of a strong castle said to
have been built in the twelfth or thirteenth
century.
Montrose, the chief town of the county, is a
neat and genteel place, half a mile from the
mouth of the South Esk, which at the town
forms a basin 250 yards broad, accessible to
vessels of 400 tons. The town is built on a
point of land surrounded on three sides by wa-
ter. It exports chiefly salmon of the river and
lobsters (60,000 to 70,000 a year) to London. It
has also a considerable coasting trade, and some
to the Baltic ; and builds vessels.
Kincardine. — Fiscall is a village at the mouth
of the North Esk, which separates Angus and
Kincardine shires, to which succeeds Johns-
haven. Gourdon, a fishing village with a haven,
properly the port of Inverberie, two miles fur-
ther north at the mouth of the Bervie, which
receives only fishing boats. Eight or ten sloops
belong to this port. Dunnottar Castle is on a
high perpendicular cliff, almost surrounded by
SCOTLAND.
559
the sea, and towards the land defended by a
deep ravine. Stonehaven, a fishing town of two
streets, on the Cowie, with a good haven formed
on the south-east by a projecting rock, and on
the north-east by a pier : it dries at low water,
but has nine or ten feet high water neaps, and
sixteen to seventeen in the springs. There is a
good salmon fishery here. Girdleness, a pro-
montory eighty feet high, is the termination of a
ridge of the Grampian hills. On the shores
near it beautiful Scotch pebbles and jasper are
found, and most of the hills are composed of
breccia or pudding stone.
Aberdeenshire. — The coast of Aberdeen is in
general bold and rocky, the cliffs presenting
many caverns of unknown extent. Aberdeen
Bay is limited by Girdleness on the south ; it
affords good anchorage in off shore winds. The
Dee is a rapid and considerable stream, descend-
ing from the Grampians : its mouth, enclosed by
two piers, forms the haven of Aberdeen, which
is crossed by a bar with but two feet at low wa-
ter, and twelve and a half feet at high. Vessels
that can go over the bar lie at a handsome quay.
The no.th pier is 1200 feet long, and terminates
in a round head sixty feet in diameter at the
base, and thirty-eight feet high; the whole built
of huge rocks of granite. The entrance is de-
fended by two batteries of twelve-pounders. Old
Aberdeen on the Don, a mile north of the new
town, is almost joined to it by a long village.
Small vessels enter the river's mouth. Newbo-
rough, on a rock forming a good haven, with
twelve feet depth high water common tides;
close to it on the north is the river Ythan, in
which the tide flows up to the pleasant village of
Ellon. This river abounds with pearl mussels.
Slane's Castle, the seat of the earl of Errol, is
built on a cliff overhanging the sea ; near it is a
cavern named the Dropping Cave, remarkable
for the quick petrifaction of the water that drops
from its roof. The ward of Gruden is a fishing
village south of Buchanness, near which is a
singular natural curiosity called the Bullerof Bu-
chan ; it is a circular basin surrounded by a ring
of frightful rocks, in which on the side next the
sea the waves have worn an arched opening,
through which boats can pass into the basin,
which latter has a depth of thirty fathoms ; the
summit of the ring of rocks is covered with
earth and grass, forming a narrow walk all
round. Peterhead, a league north of Buchan-
ness, has a tide haven formed by a pier, and
sheltered by the little island Chalk Inch. It
has some trade to the Baltic, is engaged in the
cod and herring fisheries, and is visited for a mi-
neral spring. Kinnaird Head is the south point
of the great gulf formed on the north-east coast
of Scotland, terminating in the Murray Frith.
A league from the head is Frazerborough, to
which succeed Rosehearty and Aberdour, fishing
villages with little tide havens.
Banff. — The coast of Banff county is in ge-
neral very bold, presenting in many parts a front
of perpendicular rock 200 to 300 feet high.
In the parish of Guarie.is a steep rock, frequent-
ed by innumerable kittywakes, which arrive in
spring to breed and depart in the autumn. On
the same coast is a natural abyss called Hell's
chimney, communicating at its base with the sea,
whose waves rush into and force a column of
water through it, which breaks into vapor. A
second cave is pierced through a neck of land,
arid from an entrance through which a man can
only creep opens into a cavern 150 feet long,
thirty broad, and twenty high, supported by vast
natural columns of rock. On this coast are
many small fishing places, beginning with Gar-
denstone, to which succeeds Macduff, a little
town recently founded by the earl of Fife on
the right bank of the Doveran, which has the
best haven of the Murray eulf. On the oppo-
site bank of the river is Banff, on the declivity
of a hill, a genteel town, but with a bad haven
from shifting sand-banks. The Doveran is use-
less to navigation, but has a salmon fishery that
rents for £1000. The other exports are ale,
corn, thread, cotton and yarn stockings, by
coasters. Portsoy is a populous town on a
point of land, which forms a safe harbour for
vessels of considerable size ; besides the produce
of its fishery it exports thread and fine linen to
London. The other places accessible to navi-
gation are Cullen, which has only an open and
dangerous road, Port Nockie, and Buckie, which
receive small craft.
Murray. — The river Spey separates Banff and
Murray shires ; its course is about ninety miles
to the Murray Frith, where it empties itself at
Gairmouth, forming a good haven for small ves-
sels. Gairmouth is a neat town of 700 inhabit-
ants, and has a good deal of business, chiefly
from the great quantity of timber floated down
the Spey from the forest of Strathspey. A num-
ber of vessels of 500 tons are built here of this
timber ; and it has a good salmon fishery, seve-
ral sloops being employed in conveying the fish
to London. On the coast of Murray is a consi-
derable tract of sand downs, called the Maviston
Sand-hills, which, according to tradition, were
formed by the same inundation of the sea that
produced the Goodwin Sands. These downs
are constantly increasing towards the north-east,
and within the last century have entirely covered
the fertile barony of Culbin ; and the same
cause has also necessitated the removal of the
town of Findhorn, whose ancient site is now
obliterated by sand-hills.
On this coast are some fresh water lakes,
which were apparently bays of the sea, parti-
cularly Loch Spynie, three miles long and one
broad, now separated from the sea by a fertile
tract of land called Ross Island ; many beds of
oyster shells are found on the banks of the lake
considerably below the level of the land. The
lake abounds in perch and pike, and is fre-
quented by swans. The Loch of Cots is de-
scribed as a bay in the thirteenth century. The
Frith of Murray is entered between Burgh Head
in Murray, and Tarbet Ness in Ross, distant
from each other five leagues ; it contracts gra-
dually to a strait between Fort George and Fort-
rose, formed by two promontories, within which
it again widens to a lake nine miles long and
three broad ; at the upper end of which two
projecting points at Inverness contract it to a
second strait, beyond which it again expands,
and forms a second hike nearly as large as the
560
SCOTLAND.
first, at the head of which the river Beauley
empties itself. The river Ness, which issues
from Loch Ness, falls into the Frith at Inver-
ness. Lossie Mouth, at the entrance of the little
river Lossie, is the port of Elgin, and receives
vessels of eighty tons, by which it exports corn
«.o Leith, &c. Findhorn is a small town at the
mouth of a river, which is navigable to within
two miles of Forres, five miles above Findhorn.
In the river is a good salmon fishery. In the
bay of Findhorn is 1000 acres of soil covered
by the tide of flood, which it is in contemplation
to embank.
Nairne. — Nairne, at the mouth of a river, is
the only port of the little county of Nairne ; it
is neatly built, and exports the produce of its
salmon fishery. Its harbour is convenient, and
capable of great improvement.
Inverness. — Fort George, on the Inverness
side of the strait that communicates between the
two inner lakes of the Murray Frith, is a regular
fortification, on a promontory surrounded on
three sides by the sea, and covering ten acres of
ground, mounting 100 cannon, chiefly forty-two
pounders, and having barracks for 6000 men.
Inverness is a considerable town at the mouth
of Ness River, accessible to vessels of 500 tons
at all times ; it exports salmon, herrings, cord-
age, canvas, and sacking, chiefly to London.
The Friths of Murray and Cromarty are sepa-
rated by a peninsula named Black Isle (Elan-du),
through which runs a ridge of hills covered with
heath, declining to both gulfs. The peninsula
is twenty miles long and four broad, the south
shore forming the county of Ross, and the north
that of Cromarty. Fortrose and Beauley are in
Ross-shire, on the Murray Frith, the former op-
posite to Fort George.
Cromarty. — Cromarty Frith is a deep inlet,
called for excellence ' the Harbour of Safety ;'
it is entered between two high heads called the
Sutors of Cromarty, a mile and a half distant
from each other, within which it expands to three
miles for a length of sixteen, and has good an-
chorage for the largest ships in every part, so
that it is often run into for shelter in easterly
winds. The south Sutor is a bold promontory
topped with pines, and commanding a magnifi-
cent view over the sea and over Ross-shire. Cro-
marty, on the south shore of the strait, has a
commodious quay, at which vessels of 400 tons
lie ; it has little other business than the fishery.
Ross. — The Frith of Dornoch, or of Tain, is
separated from that of Cromarty by a peninsula
of the county of Ross, of which Tarbet Ness
is the extreme point. The entrance of the Frith
is five leagues wide, decreasing gradually to
Mickle Ferry, where it is two miles ; within this
it again expands, and forms a good harbour for
vessels of considerable burden, though it is
crossed by a bar with but four feet at low water.
The south shore of the outer gulf is lined by a
bank called the Gizzing Briggs, from the noise
the sea makes on it ; in it are several breaks, ad-
mitting small craft within it : but all this gulf
requires a pilot.
Tain, on the south shore of the Frith, ha some
coasting trade ; it is an old irregular built town,
with a few new houses.
Sutherland. — On the north or Sutherland shore
of the Frith of Tain is Dornoch, the principal
one of Sutherland, and the only one deserving-
mention. North of the entrance of Dornoch
Frith are Fleet Lake, Dunrobbin Castle, the seat
of the earls of Sutherland, in good repair, and
Brora Haven, at the mouth of the little river of
that name.
Caithness. — The county of Caithness occupies
the north-east extremity of Great Britain ; its
east coast is bold and rocky, forming many little
coves into which the fishing boats run, and to
which the fishermen descend from the perpen-
dicular cliffs by dangerous flights of steps cut in
the rock. To secure their boats from the sea
they hoist them to the rocks, into which rings
are fixed for the purpose above the reach of the
waves. At one of these coves, named Faligoi, a
fine cascade falls over the cliffs into the sea. At
the bases of the rocks are many sea-worn ca-
verns, accessible only in boats, and frequented
by seals, which are killed for their oil and skins.
Many rocky pyramids also start up from the
sea. The sea air prevents the growth of any
kind of trees on this coast. It abounds in sea
weed, which is burnt into kelp.
The principal places in Caithness are Dun-
beat h Castle and Wick, on the east coast; the
latter is the county town ; its haven is natural
and very indifferent. Staxigo, one mile north of
Wick, has a little dry tide haven. Freswick
castle, on Sinclair Bay, north of Noss Head, is
strongly situated on a promontory. Dungis, or
Duncan's Bay Head, the Berubium of Ptolemy,
is the north-east point of Scotland ; it is a rocky
precipitous promontory, eaten into caverns by
the waves. The Stalks of Dungis Bay are two
isolated pyramids of freestone, the resort of sea
birds, and the breeding place of eagles. The
north coast of Caithness, west of Dungis Bay
Head, forms a fine bay, with a white sandy and
shelly beach, near which was the celebrated John
O'Groat's house, noted as well for the tradition
respecting its erection, as for being the northern-
most habitation in Britain. Thurso is on a
spacious bay, limited by Dunnet Head (Occas
Promont), the north point of England, on the
east, and by Welbrow Head on the west, both
of which shelter it from the fury of the waves
and the stream of the tides. Dunnet Head is a
broken rocky promontory, from 100 to 400 feet
feet high, joined to the main by an isthmus, one
mile and a half broad. It is one of the few
places of Britain frequented by puffins.
Thurso, on the river of the same name, has a
river navigable two miles for vessels of sixty
tons, and its harbour is about to be improved
by act of parliament. Thurso has eight vessels
employed in coasting, and several fishing boats.
It exports corn and meal to' the amount of
£12,000, and fish to a greater amount, particu-
larly salmon, which is so abundant that 2500
were caught in one draft, two miles above the
town, in 1743. The annual export is estimated
at 700 kits of boiled salmon, 250 barrels of
pickled, besides 7000 barrels of salted and
smoked herrings.
Sutherland. — The north coast of Sutherland is
indented by numerous bays, forming good roads
SCOTLAND.
561
for shipping. The first is Port Skerry, at the
mouth of the Ilollodale River, which separates
this county from Caithness. Five miles north-
west of it is Strathey Head, a long promontory,
sheltering a cove, called Port Strathey, at the mouth
of a river of the same name. West of Stralhey
Head, the River Naver, the most considerable of
the county, falls into a fine bay, after a course
of twenty-eight miles. Torrysdale River empties
itself at a village of the same name, and has a
good salmon fishery. Tongue Bay, farther west,
is an inlet of the sea, five miles deep, skirted with
farm houses and corn fields. Farther west the
coast is high and rocky, with many little coves,
on one of which, named Voisgag, a quarry of
gray slate is worked. There are here also many
sea-worn caverns, supported by pillars, of which
that named the Great Cave of Fraisgall runs in
more than half a mile, and is covered with sta-
lactites of different resplendent colors. There
are some islands here, of which the most worthy
of notice are, Saints, Seal, and Rabbit Islands,
in the entrance of Tongue: the former presents
a singular appearance, produced by the spouting
of the waves of the sea through a natural tunnel.
Ealan na Roan, or Seal Island, is two miles in
circuit and inhabited by four families. Rabbit
Island has its name from abounding in rabbits.
West of the Bay of Tongue is Loch Eribol,
a spacious inlet, on the west shore of which is
Port Ruspin, a small dry haven. Next in suc-
cession is Far-out Head, the point of a peninsula
between Loch Eribol and the bay of Durness.
Cape Wrath, or Barvehead (Ebudium), the
north-west point of Britain, is a desolate rocky
head, which apparently has its name from the
furious beating of the waves and, the rushing of
the tide, which are increased by a rocky ledge
running off" from the cape five or six miles, with
sixteen to twenty-four fathoms on it. Nine miles
due north of the cape is a dangerous sunken
rock covered at high water. The cave of Sino,
near the cape, is seventy or eighty yards high,
and extends backwards in a lake of which the
extent is unknown.
II. THE WEST COAST OF SCOTLAND. Dum-
fries.— The Solway Frith separates England and
Scotland, and is nine leagues wide at its entrance,
but is much encumbered by sand banks, that in-
crease annually in height and surface, thereby
contracting its navigation. At its head it re-
ceives the river Esk, which is also the boundary
of the two kingdoms; and about a mile from
which, on the Scottish side, is Gretna Green, ce-
lebrated in the annals of clandestine marriage.
The other places of any note in Dumfriesshire
are Anan, on a river of the same name, a ueat
town, with a small coasting trade and considera-
ble fishery. Dumfries, on the east bank of the
Nith, nine miles from its mouth, having vessels
employed in the Baltic and Portugal trade, be-
sides coasters. The Nith separates Dumfries and
Kircudbright shires.
Kircudbrightshire. — The River Urr, the most
eastern in Kircudbrightshire, is two miles wide at
its mouth, spreading to a large basin and form-
ing a good port. It is navigable eight miles for
vessels of eighty tons, and by it lime is intro-
duced into the interior from the opposite coast
Vol. XIX
of Cumberland. Kircudbright, on the west
bank of the Dee, five miles from its mouth, is
the county town. The Dee flows through Ken-
muire Lake, and is navigable to Tongland, two
miles above Kircud bright, above which its bed
becomes encumbered with rocks. It abounds in
salmon, perch, and eels. In the mouth of the
river is the little island of Ross, the entrance be-
tween it and the east shore being one mile and
a half wide, safe and bold on both sides. Above
this island are several good anchoring places,
with sixteen feet water at low water, and forty-
six at high. Opposite Kircudbright the depths
are eight feet at low water and twenty-eight at
high. On the sand in the river below the town
is St. Mary's Island, on which the earl of Sel-
kirk has a mansion. Here are also the remain's
of a magnificent castle. The River Fleet empties
itself on the east shore of Wilton Bay, and is
navigable for vessels of eighty tons to the village
of Gatehouse. Creetown, at the mouth of the
Cree, which falls into the head of Wiglon Bay,
is a newly founded and increasing place, having
a number of coasters, and vessels of 500 tons can
ascend to it.
Wigtotukire. — Wigton Bay separates the coun-
ties of Kircudbright and Wigton ; it is three
miles broad for six miles from its entrance, and
has several good anchorages. Borough Head is
its west point. Ascending from which along the
west shore the places are Whitehorn, having a
good haven sheltered by a little Island, and pas-
sage vessels sailing to the Isle of Man in three
hours, to Whitehaven in four, and to Dublin,
Greenock, and Liverpool in eighteen. Wigton,
the county town, is on a hill on the bank of the
Bladenoch. Luce Bay is between Burrough
Head, on the east, and the Mull of Galloway, on
the west. Nearly mid-channel between these
points are the rocks named the Scars. In foggy
weather this bay has been frequently mistaken
for the opening of the north channel, and vessels
have run on shore on the quicksands, which line
several parts of the bay, and out of which it is
impossible to extricate a vessel. There are,
however, several good fair weather anchorages
in this bay, but in westerly winds there is al-
ways a great swell in it. The peninsula of Gal-
loway is bold and cavernous on the west. Its
south point, or Mull, is also the south point of
Scotland. Port Nessick, on the west side, has
a little pier for craft of five or six feet. Port
Patrick is a neat town with a small haven and a
handsome quay and light-house. A packet sails
daily between it and Donaehadee, the distance
being twenty miles. The principal trade is the
import of cattle from Ireland. One mile south
of it is the castle of Dunskery, on the brink of a
frightful precipice. Loch Ryan is a deep inlet
at the north extremity of the peninsula of Gallo-
way, ten miles long and two broad at the en-
trance, widening to four miles within, and form-
ing an excellent harbour, the only danger being
a sand bank running off from the west shore,
which makes it necessary to keep pretty close to
the east shore. This sand-bank is covered with
excellent oysters, and the bay abounds in cod.
haddock, and other fish, lobsters and crabs.
Stranraer, at the head of the Loch, is one of tb*
2 O
562
SCOTLAND.
principal towns of the west of Scotland, neatly,
built, and a small river runs through it. Vessels
of 300 tons ascend to within a mile of the town,
and those of sixty tons lie at its quay. It has
1400 tons of shipping, and trades to Norway and
the Baltic.
Airshire. — The Frith of Clyde is a deep gulf
between the coast of Air, on the east, and the
peninsula of Kintyre, on the west. The Air coast
towards the south and north is rocky and elevated,
but in the middle between the River Doon and
Saltcoats, a distance of twenty miles, is a sandy
beach, shoaling a considerable way off. As the
ports of Air and Irvine, on this coast, can only
receive vessels of 200 tons at spring tides, ships
embayed in the curve can only find shelter in
westerly winds under Lady Island four miles
north-west of Air. The proper marks for anchor-
ing here are the spires of the two beacons on the
island in one, where a cable's length off shore,
there is ten or twelve fathoms. Trune is the
only place on this coast where a good artificial
haven may be formed, as it is naturally sheltered
from all winds but north-west by a rocky penin-
sula running a mile into the sea. A vessel taking
shelter in it at present may anchor half a cable's
length within its extremity, in three fathoms at
half flood. It is a sea bathing place. Ballinhay,
on the Stinser, is a good village. Four miles
north of which is Ailsa Island, in the middle of
the entrance of the Frith of Clyde. It is a co-
nical rock, with many goats and rabbits on it,
and the resort of soland geese and other sea
birds, whose feathers, as well as the rabbit skins,
pay the rent of the tenant, which is £25. On it
are the ruins of an old castle. Gnvan, on the
river of the same name, is a poor village, with
lialf a dozen boats. In the river the depths are
nine to eleven feet.
Air, the county town, on a river of its name,
is a small well-built place. The river is crossed
by a bar with but twelve feet high water springs.
It sends some vessels to the Baltic, and to Ire-
land with coals, and builds vessels. Irvine, three
miles up a river of its name, has a haven with
nine to eleven feet water at common springs ;
but with a gale from south-west the tide often
rises to sixteen feet. It has a small ship-build-
ing establishment, some trade with the Baltic,
and exports 24,000 tons of coals. Saltcoats, the
most fashionable sea-bathing place of the west
coast of Scotland,. is built on a rock near Sandy
Hills. It has a manufactory of salt, some coast-
ing trade, ship building, and a herring fishery.
Largs, opposite the Isle of Bute, has 1400 inha-
bitants, and is the general market of the neigh-
bouring country. The River Clyde, supposing
its entrance to be at the Isle of Bute, is four
miles wide, but the channel is narrowed by the
Great and Little Cumbray Islands, nearly in the
middle. The tide flows above Paisley, and it
abounds in salmon and trout.
Renfrewshire. — Greenock, on the south bank
of the Clyde, is the emporium of the north and
west of Scotland. In 1700 it was a mean village,
but now carries on a direct trade to all parts of
the world. It also builds a great many merchant
ships for sale, and has a share in the Greenland
whale fishery. The harbour is nearly dry at
low water, and vessels of eleven feet only can go
in with spring tides.
Port Glasgow is three miles east of Greenock.
The Clyde here is two miles wide, but so filled
with banks as only to afford a channel '200 yards
wide close to the Port Glasgow shore. The
largest vessels lie here at the quays, or discharge
their cargoes into lighters to be conveyed up to
Glasgow. Renfrew, the chief town of the county,
formerly stood on the bank of the Clyde, but the
river, changing its course, deserted it. At pre-
sent it communicates by a little canal.
Glasgow, the principal town of Lanerk, and
the second of Scotland, is fifteen leagues above
Port Glasgow, vessels of seventy tons ascending
to its quays, the rise of tide being seven feet. A
board of commissioners is here appointed to im-
prove the river, and operations are constantly
carrying on to deepen it. This city receives the
greater part of the merchandise imported by the
Greenock and Port Glasgow vessels.
Dumbartonshire. — The only port town of Dum-
bartonshire is Dumbarton, on the Leven, which,
issuing from Loch Lomond, falls into the Clyde.
The town has 2500 inhabitants, and some brigs
belong to it. Near the town is a castle on a
two-headed rock, washed on one side by the
Clyde and on the other by the Leven. Gare
Loch and Long Loch are the first of the nume-
rous sea lakes that intersect the north-west coasts
of Scotland. Gare Loch is seven miles long and
two wide ; and Long Loch is twelve miles long,
approaching the celebrated fresh water lake of
Lomond within one mile and a half. It sepa-
rates Dumbarton and Argyle counties.
Argyleshire. — The county of Argyle is com-
posed of several peninsulas formed by sea locks :
the first of the latter is Loch Fyne, thirty miles
long and three wide, in which a great herring
fishery has been carried on at different periods. Ait
its head is Inverary, the chief town of the county.
The peninsula of Kintyre is united to the
main land of Argyle by an isthmus a mile
broad, between the east and west Lochs Tarbet ;
the former is a safe and capacious basin, with an
entrance only 100 yards wide. On the south
point of the peninsula, named the Mull of Kin-
tyre, is a light. Campbelltown, on the east side,
has an excellent natural harbour, within the little
island Dever ; it is surrounded by high hills,
and has a depth of six fathoms. Here is the
grand rendezvous of the herring busses. Sanda
Island, two miles north-east of the Mull, is cele-
brated in the Scandinavian annals by the name
of Avona, as the rendezvous of the Danes ;n their
descents on Britain. The circuitous and difficult
navigation round Kintyre, from the Clyde to the
Hebrides and north-west coast of Scotland, is
now avoided by means of a canal, nine miles
long, cut from Loch Gilp (abend of Loch Fyne)
to Loch Crinan. Having rounded Kintyre and
passed West Loch Tarbet and Loch Crinan,
above-mentioned, we come to Loch Fellam, on
which is Oban, the principal place on the north-
west coast of Scotland, though but a village.
The Loch forms a harbour capable of receiving
500 merchant vessels. Dunstaffnage, or Loch
Etive, the place next in consequence, is a small
hamlet, with an ancient castle
SCOTLAND.
563
Inverness-shire. — Lochs Linne and Lodiabar,
which communicate by a strait, penetrate into
the heart of the bleak and dreary county of In-
verness. At the head of the loch is Fort William,
a triangular fortress, with two bastions and bar-
racks for 800 men. The little town of Mary-
borough adjoins Castle Duart, or Loch Linne, and
has a garrison of forty men from Fort William.
Glenely is a poor hamlet opposite the east end of
the Isle of Sky. A mile north of it are Berneira
barracks usually occupied by a Serjeant's guard.
Ross. — The western coast of the county of
Ross has no place deserving even the name of
village except Ullapool, on Loch Broom, a fish-
ing station, established by the British Society in
1788; it may contain 500 persons. The loch is
one of the most abundant in fish, and forms an
excellent harbour for the largest fleets.
Sut her lands/tire. — The west coast of Suther-
land, which terminates at Cape Wrath, is worn
into many sea lochs and inlets, where shipping
can find shelter in all winds, but has not even a
hamlet.
We have noticed the chief mountain ranges,
and some of the most remarkable mountains of
Scotland, in the article BRITAIN.
The first and great division of Scotland is into
the Highlands and Lowlands. The former en-
gross more than one-half of Scotland ; extending
from Dumbartonshire to the most northern part
of the island, a space of 200 miles in length, and
in breadth from fifty to 100. This tract, how-
ever, includes several extensive districts of low,
fruitful ground, inhabited by people who are in
all respects different from the mountaineers. No-
thing can be more wild and tremendous to the
eye of a stranger than the appearance of the
Highlands, composed of blue rocks and dusky
mountains heaped upon one another even above
the clouds, their interstices rendered impassable
by bogs, their sides embrowned with heath, and
their summits covered with snow, which lies all
the year unthawed, pouring from their jagged
sides a thousand torrents and roaring cataracts
that fall into gloomy vales or glens below, some
of them so narrow, deep, and dismal, as to be
altogether impenetrable by the rays of the sun :
yet these mountains are in some places sloped
into agreeable green hills fit for pasture, and
skirted or interspersed with present straths or
valleys capable of cultivation. Some authors
have divided Scotland into that part which lies
to the southward of the Frith, and that which
lies to the northward. Others consider Scotland,
agriculturally, as embracing three natural divi-
sions. The first lies north of the chain of High-
land lakes, which stretches from Murray to Mull,
and consists of little else than dreary mountains
and some moors ; the second, or middle division,
extends from this chain of lakes to the rivers
Forth and Clyde ; it is mountainous, but culti-
vated in the valleys, and on the eastern shore to
a considerable extent ; the remaining division is
covered by hills with some mountains, but every
where cultivated or improvable, and highly fa-
voruble for most branches of agriculture : and,
though Scotland was far behind England in cul-
tivation till the middle of the last century, it has
now outstripped this country ; particularly in
arable husbandry : in proof of which Mr. London
adduces the fact that the improvements intro-
duced, or attempted to be introduced, on arable
land in England and Wales are, with few excep-
tions, the implements and practices of Scotland.
In the management of meadows or old pasture,
Scotland cannot be conspicuous; as the climate
is not naturally calculated for that kind of hus-
bandry. The winters are too long and severe,
and the surface too irregular : and in regard to
live stock this writer admits the palm of improve-
ment is undoubtedly borne away by England.
But though there is not that enthusiasm in Scot-
land, nor such large prices given for capital spe-
cimens, it may be safely asserted that breeding
and feeding are conducted as systematically and
successfully there as in England.'
The number of the counties is thirty-three,
most of which are again subdivided by local acts
of parliament into two or more districts for the
purposes of police and internal economy; and
several of them comprise a variety of territorial
divisions, founded on the natural circumstances
of the country. Berwick is thus diuided into the
three districts of the Merse, Lauderdale, and
Lammermuir ; Lanarkshire into the I pper,
Middle, and Lower Wards ; and, in the exten-
sive Highland counties, the subdivisions are still
more numerous. The number of parishes is.899,
but liable to vary from annexations and disjunc-
tions. Every parish contains a church and bury-
ing-ground, with a manse, or dwelling-house,
and a few acres of land as a glebe, for the clergy-
man, who, by a happy provision and observance
of the law, is always resident; and a school, with
a schoolmaster's house and garden. In several
of the towns one church has two ministers, so
that the number of the clergy is greater than that
of the parishes. In 1813 the parochial clergy
amounted to 938, besides assistants. An indefi-
nite number of parishes form the ecclesiastical
division, called a presbytery, and several presby-
teries a synod.
Rivers. — In the northern part of Scotland are
several fine streams, amongst which the Beau-ly,
Canon, and Naver, may be mentioned ; but
those of the middle division of the country far
surpass them. Here rise the Spey, the Dee, the
Don, the north and south Esk, and the Tay, one
of the largest rivers of Great Britain. In the
south of Scotland we have the Forth, the Clyde,
the Tweed, and numerous minor rivers which
empty themselves into the Irish sea and Solway
Frith ; the Ayr, the Girwan, the southern Dee,
the Nith, the Annan, and the Liddal. The lakes
or lochs of Scotland are also numerous and
have been many of them long celebrated for
their grand and picturesque scenery. Of these,
the chief are Loch Lomond, Loch Aw, Loch
Tay, Loch Ness, Loch Shin, Loch Lochay, Loch
Naver, Loch Leven, &c.
Minerals. — Scotland has boasted mines of the
precious metals, as we have seen in the histori-
cal part of this article ; but no mines are now
wrought solely for silver or gold ; the lead mines
are, however, rich in the former. In the last
century a silver mine was wrought in the Ochil
hills, in the parish of Alva. Ironstone, iron
ore, and septaria ironstone, are abundant, and
2 O 2
564
SCOTLAND
copper has been discovered in many places.
Other metallic substances discovered here are
cobalt, bismuth, manganese, wolfram, plumbago,
and mercury. Coal is abundant in the southern
and middle districts, running from north-east to
south-west, and limestone, freestone or sand-
stone, and slate, are found in every district. Of
late, too, attention has been paid to the marbles,
which prove very fine. Most of the gems and
precious stones, except the diamond, have been
found in Scotland. Pearls are found in the
great horse mussel (the mytilus cygnius and
anatinus), a native of the northern rivers ; in the
common oyster and in mussels. The sapphire,
of equal hardness with the oriental, is found in
several places, and of different shades, from a
deep red to a transparent white. The topaz is
found in the mountains of Marr, and in the
range which stretches towards Perth, Inverness,
and Banff. It is the most brilliant of the Scot-
tish gems hitherto found. It occurs in rolled
pieces, often imbedded in the granite, and most
commonly of a very light green, or greenish
white. The ruby and hyacinth have been found
in Fifeshire, adhering to the rocks. They are in
general small, and of inferior lustre. Emeralds
and amethysts are also frequently met with, and
some have been valued at thirty or forty guineas.
Garnets are found in the Highlands of good
sizes; and agates, under the various names of
onyx, sardonyx, and pebble, in every part of
the country where basaltic rocks are found.
The Scotch pebbles are of many beautiful hues ;
blue and white, red and white, in veins, and in
every gradation of shade. Jasper is so abundant
as to be included among the building stones ;
there are also many delicate specimens to be
met with. The rock crystal, commonly deno-
minated cairngorum, from the mountain of that
name in Banffshire, is found in every mountain
in the primary districts of Scotland. The
colors are yellow of different shades, and clove
brown, approaching to black. The deeper yel-
low specimens sell high : the dove brown colors,
more peculiarly termed cairngorums, are also
valued in jewellery ; and chalcedony, equal in
lardness and other qualities to the oriental, is
found in Fife. The northern and southern
mountains are chiefly composed of granite: Ben
Vevis is said to be equally beautiful with the
Egyptian; at Portsoy that singular kind of
granite is found called Moses' Tables ; besides
tnese, there are various rare and curious fossils.
Springs. — The chalybeate springs are very
lumerous; we may particularise those at Moffat,
°eterhead, Dunse, and Aberbrothock. Sulphu-
reous springs are also found in the neighbour-
hood of Moffat, and near Edinburgh, at St.
Bernard's well. Some of the springs also hold
some neutral salt dissolved, as at Pitcaithly.
Many of the springs proceeding from a bed of
limestone, acquire a petrifying property, of
which there are examples at the Dropping Cave
of Slains in Aberdeenshire, and in many places
in Lanark and Ayr.
Of the Caledonian foreatt, the most consider-
able remains are in the districts of Mar and
Glentanar in Rannoch, in Glenmore and Strath-
spey, and in Alfarig in Ross-shire. Fir is the
most common wood ; but the oak and other de-
ciduous trees are not wanting. Some of these
forests extend thirty or forty miles in length, and.
great quantities of timber are floated down the
Spey, the Dee, and the Tummel.
The soil must be considered in general infe-
rior in point of fertility to England; but there
are many valleys or straths, even in the High-
lands, which are productive ; and the three
Lothians, Berwickshire, Fifeshire, the Carses
of Stirling and Falkirk, Strathern, the Carse of
Gowrie, the province of Moray, &c., contain
excellent land. In the middle and southern
districts the country has every where assumed a
most marked and visible improvement. The
soil of Scotland produces wheat, rye, barley,
oats, pease, beans, hay, potatoes, turnips, &c. ;
also flax and hemp, but in no great quantities,
nor does the soil appear to be well qualified for
their production. Horticulture is making rapid
progress every where, and apples and other
fruits are produced in abundance. Of late
many extensive tracks of waste land have been
planted with wood, and the success attending
this improvement evinces that the soil and
climate are well adapted for forest trees. The
Scotch fir is the most common pine in the Scot-
tish plantations; the larch has also been intro-
duced, and is a valuable acquisition. Ash, elm,
plane, beech, oak, laburnum, and a great variety
of other kinds, are intermixed in the planta-
tions, and have a fine effect. The juniper shrub
grows naturally on the hills, and the whortle or
blae berries grow on the highest mountains.
The alga marina, or sea weed, is in great luxuri-
ance on the rocky coasts, and becomes when
burnt into kelp, a valuable article of commerce.
Speaking of the west of Scotland at the pre-
sent period as contrasted with sixty years ago, a
practical writer observes, — ' Good roads and
wheel carriages are in such general use, that we
reckon them as common place ; yet, by reflect-
ing on the former situation of this country, we
may soon form a proper idea of their import-
ance. About the period above-mentioned, luiy
was a scarce article in Glasgow ; and in some of
the surrounding parishes, ten or twelve miles off,
the roads were so bad, that their hay intended
for sale was made up in trusses of ten stones
only, and it took a whole day's work for a man
and horse to bring that quantity to town, a busi-
ness which was then performed by placing it
across the horse's back, and the man led the
animal with one hand, while he employed the
other to balance it, owing to the ruggedness of
the roads If hay was scarce at th.it time,
money was more so, for, afier all the labor of
making and transporting the hay, all that the
farmer received for it was 3d. per stone, or 2s. 6d.
for the whole load, out of which he had to pay
part of his rent and the expenses attendant upon
raising the crop and keeping his horse. Now-
a-days a horse and cart can bring into town 120
stones from the same district, with the greatest
ease, and the farmer will be far better paid for
his trouble. Sour or butter milk was also then,
as it still is, an article much in use in this coun-
try, and it was likewise all brought in upon
horse's backs. I have myself seen about thirty
SCOTLAND.
565
horses in a morning, bring in two small casks a
piece, one on each side of them, not exceeding
in content (from recollection of their appear-
ance) a vessel of forty pints each. At present
the farmer can, with the greatest ease, bring in
upon a cart a cask containing 140 pints, and
frequently two of this content, so much are our
roads improved, and the facility of communica-
tion with the surrounding country increased. In
these times, on almost all farms, the country
people had cars for bringing in their crops ;
these cars are now so completely given up that
few individuals in this town under thirty years
of age have ever seen them, though I believe
tliey are in a small degree still used in very steep
billy parts of the country, or where the crop is
to be brought in from high grounds. Farmers
now only use carts, drawn by good horses, and
well made harness ; whereas formerly the collars
for these animals were made of straw or rushes.
The farming system is equally improved in every
other respect ; you now see fields of wheat
waving their yellow heads, in places which for-
merly produced but a very poor crop of oats ;
and excellent green crops are common over all
the country. The comfort of the cottagers has
partaken of the general improvement ; instead
of clay, they have wooden floors in their cottages,
and even in these humble abodes you will fre-
quently find carpets and other luxuries which
were unknown to our forefathers. From these,
and many other examples that might be adduced
of manifest improvement in the comfort of the
agricultural part of the community, we may see
the gradual progress of civilisation, and the su-
perior blessings we enjoy when compared with
those of the former inhabitants of this part of the
island.'
Though somewhat departing from our arrange-
ment, we shall allow this writer to speak of other
improvements in his neighbourhood : — ' When
we turn, on the other hand, to the manufactur-
ing portion, we are struck in a still more forcible
manner with the rapid strides of improvement
in their varied departments. The weaving ma-
nufacturer, for instance, who, at the same period
to which I have so repeatedly called your atten-
tion, employed thirty or forty looms to work for
him, was esteemed a person of very extensive
trade and importance in society. Now, some
individuals in this line employ 1200 looms, and
in many shops there are 200 under one roof.
The most wonderful improvement, however, in
this branch of manufacture, is that of the steam
loom ; and, though at present it is restricted to the
weaving of plain cotton goods, yet, I believe,
the period is not far distant when it will be ex-
tended to the fabrication of all kinds of woollen
manufactures whatever. I have indeed seen
within these few days an ingenious English me-
chanic who has lately visited Lyons, and he in-
forms me that the best weaver in that city can
only earn a franc a day, and that at the finest
work, namely, the fabrication of those beautiful
silk ribbons so much admired by our ladies.
Having visited Paisley, our grand workshop of
ingenious manufactures, he was pleased with the
beautiful fabrics he saw there, and he is deter-
mined to establish in the neighbourhood of Glas-
gow a silk manufactory, which he has no doubt
will ere long rival those of Lyons. By the im-
provements he intends to introduce from what
he has seen at both places, united to his own
skill, I have little doubt but Glasgow will soon
become as famed for her silk manufactures as
any place in the world.
' The Great Canal affords us another instance
of the improvements in this part of the country.
It has been so long in use that we can scarcely
sympathise with strangers when, standing at the
Broomielaw and viewing our shipping, they turn
round and behold immediately above the city a
navigation 150 feet higher than the level of the
Clyde ; and when we consider that so many ves-
sels ply on this canal, that £40,000 was collected
at Port-Dundas in the year 1824, to which if we
add that from £10,000 to £l 5,000 were collected
at the sea-port and Bowling Bay, we cannot fail
to be convinced of the great importance of this
navigation. But, independent of the advantages
of this inland navigation, there is no spot round
Glasgow so well deserving the inspection of
strangers ; for, at the basin of the canal, you are
elevated above the whole city, and enjoy a most
extensive view over the whole surrounding coun-
try, having Dumbarton and Paisley at all times
in sight, and in clear weather even the island of
Arran, objects of interest which are frequently
overlooked by the mere passenger, who generally
confines his attention to those at hand. Even in
this case, however, the canal affords scope for in-
teresting reflection ; here may be often seen ves-
sels belonging to the French, the Danes, the
Dutch, and other European states, and even
some vessels have sailed from the Black Sea
through this canal to Port-Dundas, and thence to
the West Indies. The Paisley and Ardrossan
Canal (though it has not yet reached the latter
place) is also an object of very considerable in-
terest to the districts through which it passes ;
but, not being finished, its trade is ou that ac-
count much confined, and not in a very pros-
perous state. One feature, however, in its con-
struction deserves to be noticed, namely, that it
passes through a tunnel under some streets and
nouses in Paisley. About the period formerly
mentioned, there was only one bridge over the
Clyde, at or near Bothwell, and that so narrow
that two carts could not pass each other properly ;
now there are three commodious bridges for
carriages near the city, and one for foot pas^
sengers.'
The climate of Scotland, from its insular situ-
ation and high latitude, is cold and variable, but
the cold in winter is not so intense as in similar
latitudes on the continent, and seldom so severe
as in the south of England : that dreary season,
on the other hand, is more protracted than in
those countries. The greatest height of the ther-
mometer that has ever yet been observed is 92°
Fahrenheit, and the lowest at Edinburgh, 31st of
December, 1783. is 3° below zero. Its ordinary
range is from 84° to 8°, though it seldom main-
tains these extremes for a length of time. The an-
nualj average temperature may be estimated at
from 45° to 47°. The average quantity of rain
that falls appears to be from thirty to thirty-one
inches. The western coasts, owing to the general
566
SCOTLAND.
prevalence of the west winds from the Atlantic
Ocean, is more liable to rain than the eastern.
In general, the proportion of rain is one-fifth
more. It has been estimated that it rains or
snows on the west coast for 205 days annually.
The winds are, as might be expected, extremely
variable, both in force and direction. In the
more elevated districts, the glens serve as fun-
nels, to receive the blast which was proceeding,
perhaps by many points, in a different course,
but which, being arrested by the mountains, is
now diverted into the valleys, and, gathering
strength from the interruption, sweeps along with
redoubled fury. On the west coast it has been
repeatedly asserted, by intelligent observers, that
the wind blows, for two-thirds of the year, from
a southerly point. In the summer and autumn
these winds frequently are injurious to the grain
and fruit. North or north-east winds appear to
prevail, especially on the eastern coast, through
somewhat less than one-third of the year. They
generally prevail in the months of March and
April, frequently extending into those of May
and June, and generally throughout the summer.
South-west winds prevail nearly two-thirds of
the year ; hence trees not sheltered incline to the
north- east. Owing chiefly to the vicinity of the
sea, the air in general is more pure, temperate,
and salubrious, than might be expected in so
jiorthern a climate. The following is an abstract
of a register of the weather, kept near Perth, for
the year 1820: the temperature is thought not
very different from the average temperature of
Scotland, except that the number of rainy days,
and quantity of rain, are less than on the western
coast. — (From the Edinburgh Annual Register,
1820.)
Fair
Days.
Rainy
Days.
Quantity
of rain.
Mean
Tempe-
rature.
January . .
21
10
1-321
30-4
February .
24
5
1-198
39-1
March . .
25
6
0-332
40-6
April . .
24
6
0-690
46-7
May . . .
10
21
5-447
49-4
June . . .
18
12
1-745
54-6
July. . .
22
9
1-635
57-6
August . .
12
19
2-228
56-0
September .
16
14
0-973
52-6
October . .
20
11
2.295
44-5
November .
20
10
1-658
41-6
December .
20
11
2-165
38-7
232
134
21-687
4598
The wild animals of Scotland include the fox,
badger, otter, wild -cat, and hedge-hog; but all
are now becoming scarce : the stag, wild roe,
hare, rabbit, weasel, and mole. The domestic
animals are the same as those of England ; but
the native breed of black cattleand sheep is con-
siderably different, being smaller in size, and
thought to be more delicious food. The colley,
or true shepherd's dog, is peculiar to Scotland.
Pheasants are found in the woods, but are scarce ;
also the beautiful capercailzie, or cock of the
wood, now become exceedingly rare; the ptar-
migan, the black game, and grouse, are abundant
in the heathy mountains ; and, in the low grounds,
partridges, snipes, plovers, &c. Scotland has
also most of the English singing birds, except the
nightingale. All the aquatic fowls of temperate
climes are also common in the islands. The
domestic fowls are the same as those of England.
The fish are the same which are usually found in
the North Sea, and the rivers teem with trout,
salmon, eels, &c. ; the lakes with pike and perch.
Whales are sometimes thrown upon the coasts of
Orkney, Shetland, and the Hebrides ; and, be-
sides other fish which are caught for their oil, we
may mention the cearban, or sun-fish, the fishery
of which is prosecuted with considerable success.
Shell-fish are abundant on all the coasts.
For a considerable time after the union with
England, this country appears to have made little
progress in manufactures ; and it was not till
about the year 1750 that a spirit of enterprise
and ingenuity was excited, which has ever since
continued. Scotland at present carries on al-
most ever)- species of manufacture. Flax and
hemp are manufactured into sheetings, osna-
burghs, bagging, and canvas, which are made
chiefly in Forfarshire, and are finally exported,
the first of these at least, to the NVest Indies,
and die last is purchased for the use of the Bri-
tish navy: but the manufacture of finer linen
has fallen off in Scotland, having been super-
seded partly by the importation of Irish cloth,
and partly by the substitution of cotton manu-
factures. The spinning of flax by the hand used
to be an important branch of industry ; but spin-
ning machinery has now almost banished it.
Thesp machines have now been generally intro-
duced in the counties of Aberdeen, Mearns,
Fife, and Angus : the cotton manufactures have
also bten earned, particulaily in the neighbour-
hood of Glasgow and Paisley, by means of ma-
chinery, to an astonishing degree of perfection
in Scotland; and attention has been particularly
directed to those of a finer quality. Muslins
and other fabrics are beautifully executed : as
well as brocades, lappets of all sorts, imitation
shawls, plain and Linoe gauzes, spidered, seeded,
and numerous species of draw-loom. Many of
these fabrics, with the entire mechanism by which
they are executed, are exclusively of Scottish in-
vention. Immense quantities of cambrics, shirt-
ings, sheetings, tweels, stripes, checks, pullicates,
ginghams, shawls, &c., are also manufactured in
Scotlarrd in a superior manner. Of cotton thread,
likewise, large quantities are exported to the
West Indies. Calico printing in all its branches
is also carried to a great extent.
The iron-workt established in Scotland deserve
particular attention, and that at Carron, near
Falkirk, is the largest manufactory in Europe.
Iron is not only extracted from the ore, but it is
finished into every variety of form. The quantity
of metal smelted at Carron is about 6500 tons
yearly, and about 2000 people are constantly
employed ; and, from all the different works in
Scotland, above 30,000 tons of iron are annually
extracted. A considerable proportion of Scottish
ironmongery is exported to America, the ^ < - •
Indie-*, and other Kriti«h colonies.
SCOTLAND.
567
An idea may be formed of the number of
workmen employed on timber of various kinds,
and the value of the articles they make, when it
is known that in Scotland there are about 3600
water-mills, 5000 thrashing-mills, above 100
wind-mills, and from 350 to 400 steam-engines,
employed in preparing flour, meal, barley, snuff,
bark, and lint ; for teazing, carding, roving, and
spinning wool, flax, and cotton ; for preparing
dye-stuffs, bleaching salts, paints, fire-clay, &c.;
for winding, weaving, tambouring, printing,
washing, wauking, calendering, &c. ; for boring,
blowing, hammering, &c. ; and for raising water
and minerals. The manufacture of machinery is
therefore a most important branch of Scottish
industry. Coach-making, musical instrument-
making, &c., are also carried on in all the prin-
cipal towns ; and ship-building forms a most
important branch of national industry. The
average of the number of vessels belonging to
the ports of Scotland amounts to 2509 annually.
Minor manufactories we cannot here notice. In
all of the considerable towns there are tanneries,
breweries, and distilleries, on an extensive scale;
and it may be generally remarked that almost all
articles of ordinary use are manufactured in
Scotland. The fisheries have been prosecuted
likewise with great industry and success. See
our article FISHERIES.
in the time of Cromwell the shipping of Scot-
land consisted of only ninety-three vessels, carry-
ing 2724 tons, and eighteen barks. Soon after,
however, her foreign trade with the northern and
eastern states of Europe began to increase ; and
the Dutch cultivated a connexion with the Scots
for the conveniency of prosecuting the herring
fishery on the coasts of Scotland. About
middle of the last century an extensive commer-
cial intercourse was carried on from the ports on
the eastern coast of Scotland, to Holland, Nor-
way, Sweden, and the states on the shores of the
Baltic. Of late years the imports consist of flax,
hemp, yarn, linen, iron, corn, wood, tallow, and
other commodities produced in those countries ;
and, in return, colonial produce, cotton goods,
and other manufactured articles are exported.
The trade between Scotland and Russia, in-
cluding that of Archangel, forms the most con-
siderable branch of the commerce of the eastern
coast; and the chief shipping ports are Leith,
Dundee, Arbroath, Montrose, Aberdeen, Peter-
head, Banff, and Inverness. The trade with
Spain, Portugal, and the Mediterranean, is car-
ried on from Leith and other ports ; and the
connexion with Canada extends to all the most
considerable towns on the east coast of Scotland.
The commerce of the west centres almost entirely
in the Clyde, which is the grand emporium of
the American, West Indian, and South American
trade. From Greenock a constant intercourse is
carried on with the West Indies, with the British
colonies in North America, with the United
States, the Brasils, and South America. Several
vessels have also sailed from that port, to carry
on the trade to India, since 1814. From the
eastern ports a trade is carried on with the
northern countries lying round the Baltic ; and
the coasting trade with London is now placed
under admirable regulations.
The following is the revenue for the first four
teen years of this century : —
1801
1802
1803
1804
1805
1806
1807
1808
1809
1810
1811
1812
1813
1814
£
1,985,794
2,230,993
2,246,028
2,171,973
2,692,624
3,182,677
3,558,784
3,544,111
3,632,832
4,188,814
4,031,347
4,236,797
4,383,751
4,483,014
*. d.
7 114
8 3
0 3$
16 8
19 9i
13 11
7 7*
7 7i
2 3
15 0
1 7i
5 OJ
7 10
10 10J
The population of Scotland is naturally divided
into the two classes of Highlanders and Low-
landers ; differing in manners, language, and
character, as much as many distinct nations.
This distinction cannot be better exhibited than
in the language of Mrs. Grant: —
' The low country was inhabited by a people
driven at a later period from the south, by suc-
cessive invaders and oppressors, who were further
advanced in the arts of industry and the progress
of civilisation than the Highlanders, whom these
last regarded as intruders, and who had scarcely
any thing in common with them. Though their
mountain chiefs were in due time brought to
yield a reluctant fealty to the Scottish monarchs,
their followers were scarcely conscious of this
submission, and most unwilling to believe that
a greater man than their own chief existed. No
two nations ever were more distinct, or differed
more completely from each other, than the
Highlanders and the Lowlanders ; and the senti-
ment with which they regarded each other was
at best a kind of smothered animosity.
'The Lowlander considered the Highlander as
a fierce and savage depredator, speaking a barba-
rous language, and inhabiting a gloomy and bar-
ren region, which fear and prudence forbade all
strangers to explore. The attractions of his
social habits, strong attachments, and courteous
manners, were confined to his glens and to his
kindred. All the pathetic and sublime charms
of his poetry, and all the wild wonders of his
records, were concealed in a language difficult
to acquire, and utterly despised, as the jargon of
barbarians, by their southern neighbours. If
such were the light in which the cultivators of
the soil regarded the hunters, graziers, and
warriors of the mountains, their contempt was
amply repaid by their high-spirited neighbours.
They again regarded the Lowlanders as a very
inferior mongrel race of intruders ; sons of little
men, without heroism, ancestry, or genius. Me-
chanical drudges, who could neither sleep on
the snow, compose extempore songs, recite long
tales of wonder or woe, or live without bread
and without shelter, for weeks together, following
the chase. Whatever was mean or effeminate,
whatever was dull, slow, mechanical, or torpid,
was in the Highlands imputed to the Lowlanders,
and exemplified by some allusion to them :
while, in the low country, every thing ferocious
668
SCOTLAND.
or unprincipled, every species of awkwardness
or ignorance, of pride or of insolence, was im-
puted to the Highlanders.
' No two communities, generally speaking,
could hate each other more cordially, or despise
each other more heartily. Much of this hatred,
however, proceeded from ignorance of each other's
character and manners.' — Essays on the High-
landers.
The Highlanders are a brave and hardy race,
ardently attached to the manners, customs, and
language of their forefathers, their chieftains,
and their country. Stout and active, they are
generally capable of sustaining almost every
bodily privation and hardship ; but their ancient
costume has now fallen greatly into disuse, and
a Highland chief, in the full dress of his country,
is seldom seen. This dress, however, is re-
tained by many of the peasantry. Over the
shirt, the Highlander wears a waistcoat of the
same kind as the plaid, which is twelve or thir-
teen yards long, and made of a woollen stuff,
called tartan, which is composed of various
colored stripes, disposed at right angles to each
other, and in the arrangement and harmony of
which his taste is often displayed. The plaid,
thrown over the shoulder, is sometimes fastened
round the waist with a leathern belt or girdle,
and hangs down before and behind, supplying
the place of small doth»s. This dress the High-
iundors call a phelig, the Lowlanders a kilt. A
kind of short petticoat, made of the same varie-
gated stuff, is also frequently worn, and is called
philebeg ; this reaches nearly to the knee, and
with short stockings made of tartan, and tied be-
low the knee with garters formed into tassels,
completes the dress. A large leathern purse,
richly adorned with silver, hanging before, was
always an appendage to a Highland chieftain's
dress. Almost every Highlander has a large
pouch of skin, dressed with its hair on and or-
namented with tassels, dangling before him, to
contain his money and tobacco. The lower class
wear a flat blue cap, of a particular kind of
cloth, called a bonnet, and brogues of untanned
skins. The female dress in the Highlands con-
sists of a petticoat and a kind of jerkin, with
close sleeves, over which they wear a plaid
fastened under the chin, and falling in folds to
the feet, sometimes most gracefully. Round the
head they fold a piece of linen of different shapes.
The young women seldom have more than a
riband for this purpose. Shoes and stockings
are little worn by the Highland females, except
t'ne higher classes, who dress as in England. In
l>ad weather the plaid, instead of resting upon
the shoulders, is thrown over the head, and then
resembles the mantella of Spain.
The generality of the cottages of the Highlands
"re so unlike what are to be seen in England,
.hat we shall insert Sir John Carr's description
of what they were about fifteen years ago. ' At
a distance,' he says, ' they resemble piles of turf.
In general they are built in glens and straths, on
the side of a lake, or near a river or stream, ad-
joining to which there is a little arable land.
The walls are built of turf or stones, according
to the nature of the adjoining soil, and raised
about six feet Isich, on the top of which a roof
of branches of trees is constructed ; this is covered
with squares of turf, of about six inches thick,
closely pressed together, and put on fresh from
its parent moor, with the grass or heath upon it,
which afterwards continues to grow, and renders
it difficult fora traveller, unless he be very sharp-
sighted, to distinguish at a little distance the hut
from the moor. A tolerable hut is divided into
three parts : a butt, which is the kitchen ; a benn,
an inner room ; and a byar, where the cattle are
housed. Frequently the partition of the cham-
bers is effected by an old blanket, or a piece of
sail-cloth. In the kitchen, and frequently in the
inner room, there are cupboard-beds for the
family ; or, what is more frequent, when the fire
on the ground is extinguished, they put their bed
of heath and blankets upon the spot where it has
burned, on account of the ground being dry. A
true farmer loves to sleep near the byar, that he
may hear his cattle eat. These patriarchal dwel-
lings frequently tremble, and sometimes fall be-
fore the fury of the tempest.1
The Highlander appears to have no idea of
property beyond that of sheep and cattle. His
' whole wealth consisting of cattle, what he most
valued himself upon was that pride and joy of
life, ' a fine fold of cows,' to use his own favorite
phrase. With his cows his rents were paid, and
with his cows his daughters were portioned and
his sons established in life.'
As he is almost invariably a farmer, the dis-
tribution of labor in a Highland farm becomes
an interesting topic. ' The lesser boys take
charge of the weaned lambs ; the stronger attend
the goats to the rocks and perilous precipices,
upon which they love to browse; the young girls
are employed at the distaff; the young men at-
tend the cattle upon the mountains, while the
father cultivates his little patch of ground, re-
pairs his hut, of which he is the designer and
builder, and upon which occasion the knife, the
axe, and the auger, are his simple tools. In
this respect, however, he is better provided than
the Russian boor, who works with more skill,
neatness, and ingenuity, with only his axe. At
evening fall, the children return, the bearers of
fish which they have caught in some neighbour-
ing stream, and of alder bark, and buds of heath
and moss, with which their mother may stain
her home-spun plaid. Among the Highlanders,
both old and young, the season of ' summer
flithing," when they remove for the summer to
the mountains with their flocks, is always hailed
with a rapturous welcome. At this time they live
in the mountains in shealings, or little huts con-
structed for the purpose, and sleep upon beds if
heath, leading a life perfectly natural until the
autumn is advanced, when they return to their
glens.' The same author also remarks that ' the
hardihood of the islander is proverbial. It is
well known that in cold dry windy weather,
when these mountaineers are obliged to sleep
among the hills to attend the cattle, they soak
their plaid in a bume or brook, in which having
rolled themselves, they select a spot of heath on
the leeward side of some hill for their bed,
where they are kept warm by the wet, which
pn-M'iits the wind from penetrating the stuff.' —
hn Carr's Caledonian Sketches
SCOTLAND.
569
Mrs. Grant, the wife of a minister, settled in
the Highlands, seems eminently to have pos-
sessed the requisite qualifications for observing
all the minute shades of character by which they
are discriminated. The following particulars are
selected from her admirable Essays.
On the secluded character of the country, and
the obstacles to its improvement, she observes,
' There really was not room for a stranger, in a
country already overpeopled in proportion to its
productions. Especially when it is considered
that every inch of ground was occupied by heads
of families, who were perhaps the tenth genera-
tion on the same spot, and held their lands from
a patriarchal chief, to whom, and his ancestors,
they and their forefathers had performed services
the most important. One of these tenants could
not be removed to make room for a stranger,
without giving mortal offence to the whole tribe,
their ideas of morality • as well as attachment
being outraged by such a proceeding. Thus,
though a stranger passing through the country,
or merely visiting it, was treated with kindness,
and indeed with the most liberal hospitality, if
he attempted to settle there, he had nothing but
prejudice and persecution to expect ; by attempt-
ing to domicile himself, he lost all the courtesy of
a stranger, without establishing any claims to
good-will as a friend or a neighbour. Such was
the state of society ; and so little could a single
individual, even in tolerable circumstances, do
for himself, that a man who did not possess the
general good-will, and receive the hourly good
offices of his neighbours, lived in the state of an
outlaw, excluded from the comforts, and de-
prived of the privileges of social life.
' No Highlander ever once thought of himself
as an individual. Amongst these people, even
the meanest mind was in a manner enlarged by
association, by anticipation, and by retrospect.
In the most minute, as well as the most serious
concerns, he felt himself one of many connected
together by ties the most lasting and endearing.
He considered himself merely with reference to
those who had gone before, and those who were
to come after him ; to those immortals who lived
in deathless song and heroic narrative ; and to
those distinguished beings who were to be born
heirs of their fame, and to whom their honors,
and perhaps their virtues, were to be trans-
mitted. Whatever might be the motive that
produced a marriage, it was seldom unhappy.
To a genuine Highlander, the mother of his
children was a character so sacred, that to her
he was never deficient in indulgence, or even
respect. To her he could forgive any thing,
provided her conduct did not impeach the ho-
nor of their mutual progeny, or create doubt,
where suspicion would be misery.
' A Highlander thrown prematurely among the
polished classes of society, and one obliged to
mingle with the lower orders of civilised coun-
tries, equally cease to be fair specimens of the
mountain race from which they spring : the one
becomes that sort of being which good qualities,
good education, and good company every where
form ; the other, whom ignorance excludes from
the decent class of artisans, is obliged to mingle
\\ it!) the dregs of the people, and with their vulgar
language he acquires their low ideas, and, shrink-
ing in the ungenial clime of plebeian grossneso,
he assumes an entirely new character. If any thing
recovers him from his hopeless apathy, it must
be the ' spirit-stirring fife,' or the martial pipe of
his ancestors, calling him to the field of honor-
able strife. Here, if at all, the Highlander re-
sumes the energy of his character, and finds
room to display once more the virtues of habit
and of sentiment ; for here he is generally asso-
ciated with beings like himself. Here his enthu-
siasm finds an object; his honorable feelings,
his love of distinction, his contempt for danger,
and, what is of equal importance in the military
life, his calm fortitude, stern hardihood, and
patient endurance, all find scope for exercise.
Here, too, mingled with his countrymen, he tells
and hears the tales of other times, — beguiles the
weary watch of night with songs that echoed
through the halls of his chief, — or repeats, on
the toilsome march, the love ditty inspired by
the maiden that first charmed him with the smile
of beauty, and the voice of melody in his native
glen. These recollections and associations pre-
serve, in pristine vigor, the fairest trait of the
Highland character. Social and convivial as
Donald's inclinations are when others join the
mirthful band, and share the cup of festivity, he
retires to his barrack or his tent, and adds the
hard saved sixpence to the little hoard which the
paymaster promises to remit home, to pay his
father's arrear of rent, or purchase a cow for his
widowed mother.
' Poor Donald is no mechanic ; he cannot,
like other soldiers, work at a trade when in
quarters ; yet day after day, with unwearied
perseverance, he mounts guard for those who
have this resource, to add a little to this fund,
sacred to the dearest charities of life — the best
feelings of humanity. This sobriety preserves
alive the first impressions of principle — the rec-
titude, the humble piety, and habitual self-de-
nial, to which a camp life, or unsettled wander-
ings that belong to it, are so averse. There are
instances, of a very late occurrence, not of indi-
viduals only, but of whole regiments of High-
landers, exercising this generous self-denial, to
remit money to their poor relations at home, to
an extent which would stagger credulity, were it
particularised.
' The officers of one of the regiments to which
I allude, finding such means remitted through
their hands, and seeing their men constantly
either on guard or at hard labor, began to fear
that they were living too low to support such
perpetual exertion. Every day they visited the
barracks, to be assured that their men made use
of a proportion of animal food. They were at
first deceived by seeing pots on, with meat boil-
ing in them, as they thought ; but, on a nearer
inspection, found that in many of them a great
stalk of what we in Scotland call kail was the
only article contained in them. They brought
long sticks with them afterwards, and sounded
the pots, to make sure. This was indeed
' Spare fast, which oft the gods doth diet.'
' I should rather have kept this quotation to
grace another instance of still nobler self-denial,
570
SCOTLAND.
which ought to be recorded in a more durable
manner than this perishing pa^e will admit
of:—
'A Highland regiment, commanded, I think,
at that time, by general Macleod, was, during
the wars with Ttppoo Saib, engaged in an unfor-
tunate rencontre, in which above 200 of them
fell into the hands of that remorseless tyrant.
They were treated with the most cruel indignity,
and fed upon a very sparing portion of unwhole-
some rice, which operated as a slow poison ; as-
sisted by the burning heat of the sun by day,
and the unwholesome dews of night, to which
they were purposely exposed, to shake their con-
stancy- Daily some of their companions dropped
before their eyes, and daily they were offered li-
berty and plenty, in exchange for their lingering
torture, on condition of relinquishing their re-
ligion, and taking the turban ; yet not one
could be prevailed upon to purchase life on
these terms. These Highlanders were from the
isles, and entirely illiterate. Scarcely one of
them could have told the name of any particular
sect of Christians ; and all the idea they had of
the Mahometan religion, was, that it was averse
to their own ; and that, adopting it, they should
renounce Him who had died that they might
live, and who loved them, and could support
them under all sufferings. The great outlines of
their religion, the peculiar tenets which distin-
guish it from every other, were early and deeply
impressed upon their minds, and proved suffi-
cient in the hour of trial. The self-devoted band
at Thermopylae have had their fame ; they ex-
pected, and deserved it. These .did not even aspire
to such distinction ; far from their native land,
without even the hope of having their graves
beheld by the eyes of mournful regret, they
passed away unseen, like the flower in the desert,
when its head is heavy with the dews of the
night, and the sun arises in its strength, to scatter
its leaves on the gale. The Yoice of applause —
the hope of future fame — the sympathy of friend-
ship— all that the heart leans to in the last extre-
mity, was withheld from these victims of prin-
ciple. It was not theirs to meet death in the
field of honor, but the mind, wrought up to
fervid eagerness, went forth in search of him.
They saw his slow approach ; and, though sunk
in languid debility, such as quenches the fire of
mere temperament, they never once hesitated at
the alternative set before them. Their fortitude
at least should be applauded, though their faith
and the hope that supported them were not taken
into the account.
' Nature never meant Donald for a manufac-
turer ; born to cultivate or defend his native
soil, he droops or degenerates in any mechanical
calling. He feels it as losing his cast; and,
when he begins to be a weaver, he ceases to be
a Highlander Fixing a mountaineer on a loom
too much resembles yoking a deer to a plough,
and will not in the end suit much better.' —
Essays on the Highlanders.
For the following summary of the antiquities
and curiosities of nature and art in Scotland, we
are principally indebted to Dr. Myers' able
Geography, vol. i.
Druidical monuments are to be found prin-
cipally in the northern parts of Scotland, and the
adjacent isles. They are easily distinguished by
their circular forms ; but they are not of equal
magnitude with those of the same kind in South
Britain. The vestiges of Roman antiquities,
such as the stations of their legions, their cas-
tella, and their praitentures, or walls, can now-
only be discovered by critical inspection. Va-
rious Roman coins, urns, utensils, and inscrip-
tions, have been found in several parts, and es-
pecially near the site of the celebrated wall
which extended from the Frith of Clyde to that
of Forth. It was marked out by Agricola, but
completed by Antoninus Pius, and is still dis-
cernible. This wall, which has been traced with
great precision by antiquaries and historians, is
called Graham's Dyke by the country people,
from a tradition that a Scottish warrior of that
name was the first who passed it. The remains
of several Roman camps are also visible in this
part of Scotland. One, near the foot of the
Grampian Hills, is perhaps the most striking
and best preserved specimen in North Britain.
It is situated at Ardoch, in Perthshire, and is
generally thought to have been the camp which
Agricola occupied before his engagement with the
Caledonian king, Galgacus. The vestiges of
this camp still present five ditches and six ram-
parts on the south side ; and three of the four
gates, which led into the area, may yet be dis-
tinctly traced. A Roman temple, in the form
of the pantheon at Rome, stood on the banks of
the Carron, supposed to have been built by
Agricola, or his successors, and dedicated to
their god Terminus, as it stood near the confines
of the empire. This venerable relic of antiquity
was barbarously demolished for the purpose of
repairing a mill-pond.
The monuments ascribed to the Picts are sin-
gular buildings. The two principal were hollow
columns ; the one at Brechin in Angus, and the
other at Abernethy, in Perthshire. That at Bre-
chin is the most entire, and is covered with a
kind of spiral roof of stone, with three or four
windows above the cornice. It consists of re-
gular courses of hewn stone, tapering to the top.
In Perthshire is a barrow, which appears to be
of British origin, and resembles the hull of a
ship with the keel upwards. It is styled Temay,
which some have supposed to be a contraction
of Terrse navis, the ship of earth. Danish
camps and fortifications are discernible in several
northern counties of Scotland, and are distin-
guished by their square forms and difficult
situations. The vestiges of ancient Scottish
antiquities are often both curious and instruc-
tive, as they frequently relate to events in their
history ; and, from the emblematical figures with
which they are ornamented, were evidently
erected to commemorate victories. These monu-
ments are chiefly obelisks, and are commonly
called Danish stones. Of these, the great stone
near Fortrose, in Moray, surpasses all the others.
According to Mr. Gordon it ' is perhaps the
only one of that kind in Europe ; it rises about
twenty-three feet above the ground, and is, I am
credibly informed, not less than twelve or fifteer.
below : so that the whole height is at least thirt\-
five feet and its breadth nearly five. It is one
SCOTLAND.
571
entire stone, with a great variety of figures in
relievo carved on it, and some of them are still
visible ; but the injury of the weather has ob-
scured those towards the upper part.' This
monument is by some ascribed to the Danes.
The wide-spread fame of lona will permit
an additional account of its relics in this place.
In any other situation, and under almost any
other circumstances, the architectural ruins of
lona would be consigned to neglect and oblivion.
It is not from their magnificence or splendor,
from their magnitude or proportions, that they
have acquired celebrity, but from their connex-
ion with a barbarous age, and their standing a
solitary monument of religion and literature
amidst the gloom of ignorance. It is almost im-
possible for the mind to contemplate the frag-
ments of these venerable structures, now fast
mouldering beneath the hand of time, without
involuntarily recurring to the period when this
little isle was the ' light of the western world.'
' Even at a distance,' says Dr. Maccullock, in
his Description of the Western Islands, • the
aspect of the cathedral, insignificant as its di-
mensions are, produces a strong feeling of delight
in him who, long coasting the rugged and barren
rocks of Mull, or buffeted by turbulent waves,
beholds its tower first rising out of the deep ;
giving to this desolate region an air of civilisa-
tion, and recalling the consciousness of that
human society, which, presenting elsewhere no
visible traces, seems to have abandoned these
rocky shores to the cormorant and the sea-gull.'
The following perspicuous delineation of these
remains of antiquity is extracted from Dr. Play-
fair's Statistical Description of Scotland. ' From
the beginning of the seventh century to the re-
formation, lona was the seat of the regular
clergy of St. Columba. After that period, the
learning of ages, the records of nations, and the
archives of remote antiquity, were destroyed or
removed to Douay College, in France. Some
fragments of buildings remain. St. Mary's
church, which served as a cathedral of the diocess
of the bishops of the Isles, and is almost entire,
was built of red granite, 115 feet long, and
twenty-three broad, with a transept of seventy
feet. Over the centre is a handsome tower.
From the south-east corner are two parallel
walls, ten feet distant from each other, which
reach to the sea. West of the church is a cross
of one stone nearly eight feet high, and twenty
inches broad, and six thick. From this place to
the nunnery there is a causeway 300 yards in
length, and fifteen in breadth, intersected at right
angles by another of the same kind, that reaches
from the shore to the village. On the left hand
of it, as you go from the shore to the church,
there is a cross of whinstone, ten feet high, or-
namented, but without any inscription. The nun-
nery is a plain square building ; and its church,
v.-hich contains the tombs of ladies of high
rank, is fifty-eight feet long, and twenty broad.
St. Oran's chapel, which is sixty by twenty-two
feet, is surrounded by the burying-ground, where,
according to tradition, forty-eight Scots, four
Irish, and eight Norwegian chiefs are interred. In
1.540 there were three tombs, like little chapels,
with an inscription on a broad stone in the gable
of each ; but scarcely a vestige of these tombs
now exists. North of the monastery are the ro-
niains of a small edifice, called the bishop's
house. Such is the present state of that illus-
trious island, ' which was once the seminary of
the Caledonian regions, whence savage clans
and roving barbarians derived the benefits of
knowledge and the blessings of religion.'
At Sandwich, in Ross-shire, is a curious obe-
lisk, but of a more recent date than those above-
mentioned. It stands on a basement of flat stones
rising like steps, and is enriched with various
specimens of carved works more highly finished
than those on the obelisk near Fortrose. On one
face is a large cross with a figure of St. Andrew
on each side, and some uncouth forms of animals
beneath. The reverse contains figures of birds
and animals. The ruins of Elgin Cathedral pre-
sent some dignified remains. The west door is
highly ornamented, and the whole edifice dis-
plays much elaborate workmanship. Among
the ancient castles of North Britain that of Kil-
d rummy is most distinguished, and was formerly
a place of great strength and magnificence, fre-
quently the asylum of noble families in times of
civil war and national distress. The castle of
Inverugie is a massy pile, standing on the steep
bank of a river, rearing its lofty towers above the
aged trees, and appearing majestic even in ruins.
At Huntley, also, the remains of a venerable
castle attest its former magnificence.
In natural curiosities Scotland is very rich.
The picturesque falls of the Clyde, near Lanark,
and the beauties of Loch Lomond, have excited
much attention, and given rise to many animated
descriptions. The rocks on the coast of Aber-
deenshire frequently assume singular forms of
arches and pillars ; while the vast basaltic co-
lumns between the castle and harbour of Dunbar
resemble the Giant's Causeway in Ireland.
Several large caverns in Fifeshire, a petrifying
cave at Slains, in Aberdeenshire, and a quantity
of sea-shells and white stones, some of them
very clear, are to be met with on the top of a
mountain in Ross-shire, about twenty miles from
the sea. Nor are traces of extinguished volca-
noes totally unknown in this country. The hill
of Finchaven is one instance, and that of Bergo-
nium, near Dunstaffage Castle is another. Both
of these exhibit large quantities of pumice stone,
or scoriae, of the same kind as those thrown out
by the volcanoes of Iceland. On the isle of Seal-
pay, one of the Hebrides, there is a hill which
affects the mariner's compass, and causes the
needle to deviate 9° from the north towards the
west. At Ralphitrisk is the famous ringing stone,
about seven feet long, six broad, and four and
a half thick. It is of a dull gray color, spotted
with black mica. It is very hard, and when
struck with a hammer or stone sounds like brass
or cast iron.
Between the islands of Jura and Scarba is the
noted whirlpool, denominated Cor-y-bhrechan
supposed to have derived its name from a
Danish prince who perished there. ' Soon after
the flood tide has entered the sound the sea at
this place is violently agitated. It boils, foams,
and passes away in successive whirls. The
commotion increases till near the fourth hour of
572
SCOTLAND.
flood, when it is most impetuous. The waves
are tossed with a great noise, that may be h%ard
twelve miles distant. But from the middle of
the fifth to the sixth hour of flood, and in neap-
tides from the fourth to the sixth hour, the com-
motion gradually abates, until at length it totally
subsides ; and, at the approach of the lowest ebb,
the same tranquillity is restored as takes place
at high water."
But perhaps the most remarkable natural curi-
osity in Scotland is the precipitous and columnar
island of Staffa The bending pillars and the
noted caves of this small island have often been
described. The island itself is an irregular oval,
faced with nearly perpendicular rocks, in which
various caves yawn and receive the restless waves
that dash against the shore. The height of these
rocky coasts varies from about 112 feet to less
than ten above the surface of the sea. The natu-
ral pillars in many of these places are inclined
in various positions from the perpendicular. In
some they are bent so as to resemble the inside
timbers of a ship. In others, where the ends pre-
sent themselves in forming the surface, they have
the appearance of a honey-comb. The celebrity
of this island, however, is chiefly derived from
its various caves. The principal of these are the
Boat Cave, Mackinnon's Cave, and Fingal's
Cave. The Boat Cave apparently derives its
name from its being accessible by sea only. This
cave is small, but its entrance is highly pictu-
resque from the symmetry of the columnar sur-
face of the cliff in which it is situated. Its
height is about fifteen feet, breadth twelve, and
depth 150 feet. It can be entered by means of
boats only, as the tide never ebbs quite out.
Mackinnon's Cave presents an aperture of
nearly fifty feet square, with a depth of more
than 220 feet, which causes it to reflect a deep
shadow, that produces a powerful effect. Its
dimensions are nearly the same throughout its
extent. The roof and sides, being smooth, are
deprived of many of those beauties which a more
varied appearance, accompanied with a symme-
trical arrangement of parts, would present. Fin-
gal's Cave is the most celebrated, and upon it
the utmost powers of description have frequently
been lavished. It is situated near the eastern ex-
tremity of the principal face, and presents two
nearly perpendicular sides ; with a roof resem-
bling that kind of Gothic arch which is termed
the contracted. The height from the surface of
the water at mean tide is about sixty-six feet ;
and from the top of the arch to the summit of
the cliff it is thirty feet : the breadth is about
forty-two feet. The height of the cave soon di-
minishes to less than fifty feet, and terminates
at forty-four, after running into the rock a depth
of 227 feet. These are the dimensions given
by Dr. Macculloch, who lately measured it; but
those given by Sir Joseph Banks, by whom it
was first visited, in his voyage to Ireland, are
considerably greater. The sides of the cave,
like the rock in front, are columnar and nearly
perpendicular, and the roof is formed of pillars
that have been broken off, which sometimes pro-
duce an ornamental effect. The breadth is pre-
served nearly to the furthest extremity, and the
whole cave is lighted from without, so that the
end may be distinctly seen. The air is kept in
a pure state from the motion occasioned by the
flux and reflux of the tide; and, as this never
ebbs out, it forms the only flooring to the cave.
' It would be no less presumptuous than useless,'
Dr. Macculloch observes, ' to attempt a descrip-
tion of the picturesque effects of that to which
the pencil itself is inadequate. But if this cave
were even destitute of that order and symmetry,
that richness arising from multiplicity of parts,
combined with greatness of dimension and sim-
plicity of style which it possesses, still the pro-
longed length, the twilight gloom, half conceal-
ing the playful arid varying effects of reflected
light, the echo of the measured surge as it rises
and falls, the transparent green of the water,
and the profound and fairy solitude of the whole
scene, could not fail strongly to impress the mind
gifted with any sense of beauty in art or nature.'
It is said that by far the greater part of ex-
ported British linens are of Scottish manufacture:
some estimate of the importance of that manu-
facture may be formed by the following table of
the countries to which these exports were made
in 1821 and 1822, ordered to be printed by the
House of Commons May 1823 : —
1821.
1822.
Portugal, the Azores, and Madeira
Spain and the Canaries
Gibraltar
Asia
Africa ........
British North America .....
West Indies. .....
Foreign West Indies
United States .
£ s. d.
53,597 1 8
24,624 15 7
159,849 12 10
22,454 12 0
15,454 14 0
48,639 10 5
552,391 18 3
193,911 8 10
442,204 18 7
£ s. d.
40,627 9 5
78,812 7 0
162,685 2 7
29,026 4 2
6,268 8 0
75,324 19 4
542,947 4 9
161,164 19 10
516,781 3 1
Brasils ........
Foreign colonies on Continent of North America
AH other parts
116,247 11 1
53,982 11 5
18,351 3 8
179,357 15 5
115,206 0 6
24,920 8 4
i
1,701,709 18 4
1,933,152 2 5
SCOTLAND.
573
The quantity of malt made in Scotland from
1786 to 1800 fluctuated from 1,500000 to
2,000,000 of bushels annually ; the ordinary rate
of duty being then 7|d. per bushel. In 1804, when
the duty on malt made from barley was raised to
3s. 8Jrf., and from bear or bias to 3s. O&d., the
number of bushels fell to 1,125,482, and never
reached 1,500,000 while these duties were ga-
thered. In 1817, 1818, and 1819, when the duty
was Is. 8£rf., the quantity increased from
1,129,992^ to 1,556,586 bushels. But in 1820,
when it was raised to 3s. 6d., the number of
bushels fell to l,284,918f. In 1822, under new
modifications of the duty, it was 1,347,432
bushels ; and for the y^ar ending oth April 1823
the number had increased to 2,150,795 bushels ;
of which 1,816,691£ were made from barley, and
334,103^ from bear or bigg. The beer made in
Scotland in 1822 was about 350,000 barrels, 01
about 3000 barrels less than :n 1792. Such is
the effect of high war duties on the necessaries
of life.
The spirits made in Scotland for home con-
sumption only, from 1813 to 1822, and all from
grain or malt (no sugar or molasses being used
in those years), appears, from the Report of the
Malt Duties of Scotland, May 1821, to stand
thus : —
Years.
Gallons of Spirits
made and charged
with duty.
Rate of duty per gallon.
Total Revenue
produced.
£ s. d.
From 10th Dec. 1813 )
to 1st Oct. 1814 ]
1,653,735
( 7s. \Qd. in Lowlands, )
I 5s. Hid. in Highlands ]
587,781 8 li
1st Oct. 1814 J
to 9th Nov. S
1 ,784,943*
8s 4|d.
743,506 0 3
Year ending f .
10th Nov/ *" 6 ' '
l,030,772f
8s. 4§d.
427,658 16 8J
1817
2,139,207^
5s. 6]d.
599,168 3 5J
1 R1 R
2,367,9141
5s. 6^/.
663,464 16 4
1819 •
2 366 998
5« 6£d,
658 773 18 4|
-toon
2,167,558
7s. 6ferf.
602,676 18 6i
The following is an account presented to the House of Commons, in May 1823, of the excise-
able articles paying duty iu the years ending 5th July 1792 and 1822 respectively, and the amount
of duty on each : —
Articles.
1792.
1822.
£ s. d.
£ s. d.
Auctions
4,700 8 8|
13,645 12 6J
Beer and ale .
55,078 8 2
87,217 9 9J
Bricks and tiles
3,283 13 34
6,348 16 4i
Candles
16,804 7 10i
19,704 2 3i
Coaches
99 0 0
...
Cocoa nuts and coffee
443 17 llf
16,785 3 6
Cyder and perry
28 8 1J
Glass
24,719 9 1J
132,770 13 7
Hides and skins
19,618 13 7i
51,045 6 7
Licences
10,813 3 2
90,581 8 5
Malt
74,960 12 0$
199,695 3 9
Paper
5,744 18 2
63,688 19 3
Pepper .
.
305 7 6
Printed goods
78,002 0 4
246,278 7 5$
Salt
106,992 16 8
Soap
43,969 8 4i
122,306 6 8£
Starch . .
9,749 17 3i
5,325 12 3
Spirits (foreign)
56,520 8 1J
124,112 10 1
(British)
52,470 5 2
740,709 14 5|
Stone bottles
9 4 11*
Sweets
111 1 4
Tea ...
.
49 4 2
Tobacco and snuff .
31,774 8 5i
301,428 2 7f
Vinegar
753 17 0
Wine .
0,990 9 6J
68,716 2 OJ
Totals .
519,743 9 4J
2,398,609 11 5J
The established religion of Scotland is Pres- by an act of the Scottish parliament in 1696, and
byterianisra, on the Geneva model, finally settled afterwards secured by the treaty of union with
574
SCOTLAND.
England. As considerable light has been thrown
of late by Dr. Cook and Dr. M'Crie on the early
progress of the Reformation in Scotland, we shall
avail ourselves here of a portion of this infor-
mation.
In preparing the scheme of future church
polity for his country, her great reformer, Knox,
adopted the general maxims of Calvin ; yet he
accommodated them considerably to the peculiar
situation of Scotland. While he abolished the
episcopal order as by divine right superior to
that of presbyters, finding that absolute equa-
lity amongst the pastors would not be expedient,
he appointed superintendants, who were in some
respects similar to bishops, but in others plainly
and explicitly distinguished from them. They
superintended the parochial ministers, whose
labors were confined to their own parishes, and
the readers who, from the small number of pas-
tors, were employed to read and explain the
Scriptures, where ministers could not be pro-
cured. This intermediate system between epis-
copacy and presbytery, although it was regarded
with much partiality by Knox, did not long con-
tinue. It had little hold of the minds of the
people ; and the poverty of the clergy under it
rendered them eager that it might be so modified
as that their temporal condition should be im-
proved. When, therefore, in 1572, the earl of
Mar, who was then regent, was eager, perhaps
more from political than religious considerations,
to restore the order of bishops, little resistance
was made to his wishes ; and, with the acqui-
escence even of Knox, an episcopalian polity
supplanted the superintendent scheme, or rather
was combined with it. But it soon appeared
that the prejudices which had been early formed
against the hierarchy had not subsided ; and the
celebrated Andrew Melville, on his arrival in
Scotland from Geneva in 1574, taking advantage
of these prejudices, and of every political event
that might facilitate his design, was enabled to
effect, in 1592, the introduction of that presby-
terian polity which he found established in Ge-
neva, and which has finally been fixed in Scot-
land.
To James VI., although he was occasionally
forced to dissemble his real sentiments, this form
of church government was most obnoxious. The
boldness with which the ministers defended what
they believed to be right ill corresponded with
the deference which he considered to be due to
royalty ; and,, having been often thwarted by
them in what they deemed the unconstitutional
exercise of his prerogative, he was desirous that
episcopacy, as more consonant to monarchy,
should be restored. To effect this he made many
efforts, even before his accession to the English
throne ; and after that event he was enabled to
accomplish his object; at the same time gratify-
ing the feelings or the prejudices of his Scottish
subjects, by putting restraints upon the bishops,
without which he dreaded that he would fail in
establishing their authority. His unfortunate son,
Charles I., who was attached to episcopacy from
sincere religious conviction, as well as from views
of political expediency, formed the scheme of assi-
milating in all respects the churches in England and
Scotland, \\ith '.his view he determined to intro-
duce a liturgy, which in Scotland had never been
regularly used ; and he insisted upon the recep-
tion of a set of canons abolishing the control
over ecclesiastical measures which the inferior
church judicatories had been permitted to exer-
cise. The violence with which all this was re-
sisted is known to every reader of the history of
Scotland. The zeal of the multitude was inflamed
to fury : the clergy were insulted, and episco-
pacy was again contemplated as the engine of
popery and of despotism. The dissensions which
soon arose in England cherished this state of
mind : the discontented in Scotland made a
common cause with the disaffected in the
southern part of the island : they bound them-
selves, by the strange deed which they entitled
' the solemn league and covenant,' to exterminate
prelacy as a corruption of the Gospel ; and they
took an active part in those commotions which
terminated in the death of Charles, and the erec-
tion of the Commonwealth. Some feeble efforts
indeed were made to preserve to Charles II. a
shackled sceptre ; but he was soon compelled to
leave Britain ; and under Cromwell the violent
presbyterians, who were denominated Protesters,
enjoyed the free exercise of the form of worship,
and of the power which they had acquired. Upon
the restoration of Charles, to which it must be
admitted that many attached to presbytery zea-
lously contributed, although at his coronation at
Scone he had solemnly sworn to defend that
mode of ecclesiastical government, and had, in
the prospect of being restored, renewed his pro-
testations that he would do so, he established
episcopacy in Scotland, under circumstances
little calculated to conciliate the affections and to
secure the reverence of the people to that ancient
and admirable form of church polity. The de-
sertion of Dr. Sharp from the presbyterians was
rewarded by his exaltation to the primacy ; and
powers were vested in the bishops much more
ample than they had possessed at any time be-
fore. The discontent that now prevailed among
the presbyterians was openly displayed, and the
attempts to restrain it were conducted with a
severity more calculated to divide than to heal.
The presbyterians, undismayed, adhered to their
principles ; and, upon the abdication of James
II., they looked forward with confidence to the
triumpli of their cause. And, though the prince
of Orange was eager to preserve in both parts
of the island the same form of ecclesiastical
government, the bishops conceived that they could
not conscientiously transfer their allegiance to
him, whereby the way was opened for that estab-
lishment of presbytery which some of his most
zealous adherents had pressed upon him, and
which was ratified by act of parliament in 1690.
Thus, Scotland and England having been sepa-
rate kingdoms at the time of the Reformation,
a difference of circumstances in the two countries
led to different sentiments on the subject of re-
ligion, and at last to different religious establish-
ments ; and when they were incorporated into
one kingdom, by the treaty of union in 1707,
ihe same regard to the inclinations of the com-
monalty of Scotland, to which presbytery owed
its first establishment in that country, produced
a declaration, to which both kingdoms gave their
SCOTLAND.
assent, that ' Episcopacy shall continue in Eng-
land, and that the presbyterian church govern-
ment shall be the only government °f Christ's
church in that part of Great Britain called Scot-
land.
It is also guaranteed, by the fifth article of the
union with Ireland, not only ' that the churches
of England and Ireland as now established, be
united into one Protestant Episcopal church, to
be called the united church of England and
Ireland ;' but also that 'in like manner the doc-
trine, worship, discipline, and government of
the church of Scotland shall remain and be pre-
served, as the same are now established by law
and by the acts for the union of the two king-
doms of England and Scotland.'
The distinguishing tenets of the church of
this important part of the United Kingdom
seem to have been first embodied in the formu-
lary of faith attributed to Knox, and compiled by
that reformer in 1560. Amidst all the outward
changes of polity already detailed this has been
preserved unchanged. It was approved by the
parliament, and again ratified in 1567, and con-
sists of twenty-five articles, and was the confes-
sion as well of the episcopal as of the presby-
terian church. The Covenanters indeed, during
the grand rebellion, adopted the Westminster Con-
fession, in the compilation ofwhich some delegates
from their general assembly had assisted. And,
at the Revolution, this confession was received as
the standard of the national faith ; and the same
acts of parliament which settled presbyterian
church government in Scotland, ordain, ' That no
person be admitted or continued hereafter to be
a. minister or preacher within this church, unless
that he subscribe the (i. e. this) confession of
faith, declaring the same to be the confession of
his faith.' By the act of union, in 1707, the
same is required of all professors, principals,
regents, masters, and others bearing office in any
of the four universities in Scotland.
The Westminster Confession of Faith, then,
and what are called the Larger and Shorter
Catechisms, which are generally bound up with
it. contain the public and avowed doctrines of
this church ; and it is well known that these for-
mularies are Calvinistical, if not Supralapsarian.
' The character of these formularies is, in gene-
ral,' says a highly respectable Calvinistic writer,
' too exclusive, severe, and systematic for certain
deliberative minds. Called to the reception of
them, they are staggered by the extent of the re-
quisition. For a time, perhaps, they hesitate to
obey the voice of conscience, and to desert the
national standard. But the resolution, once taken,
and the reputation for orthodoxy and conformity
sacrificed, they give loose to their fancy or inge-
nuity, and at length fashion to themselves a sys-
tem perfectly at variance with truth and reason.
It appears to us that Scotland, in this respect,
furnishes an important lesson to the more dog-
matic and exclusive theologians of this country,
&c.' — Christian Observer, for 1815, p. 685, 686.
It has indeed been often insinuated, or as-
serted, that many of the ministers, as well as lay
members, of the establishment, have departed
widely from that confession, holding the Arian
or Socinian views of our Lord's person, and the
Arminian opinions as to predestination and
grace. Such a charge, however, should be re-
ceived with much caution, and is perhaps en-
titled to little or no attention. No party in the
church avows enmity to the Westminster Con-
fession : and there can be no doubt that the
great majority of the clergy are attached to the
doctrines which it inculcates. There is a wide
difference in the way of preaching these doc-
trines ; but this is not confined to any one party.
Amongst those who are denominated the popular
clergy, there are many practical preachers;
whilst those who are styled moderate, not un-
frequently inculcate the highest tenets of Cal-
vinism.
In this church the public worship is extremely
simple, and but few ceremonies are retained.
John Knox, like his master Calvin, seems to
have been less an enemy to liturgies and esta-
blished forms, than their more modern followers;
for, though he laid aside the Book of Common
Prayer about the year 1662, he then introduced
one of his own composition, which more strongly
resembled the liturgy of the church of Geneva.
There is now, however, no liturgy or public
form in use in this church; and the minister's
only guide is the Directory for the Public Wor-
ship of God, which prescribes rather the matter
than the words of our addresses to God : nor is
it thought necessary to adhere strictly to it; for,
as in several other respects, what it enjoins with
regard to reading the holy Scriptures in public
worship is, at this day, but seldom practised.
By the ecclesiastical laws, the sacrament of the
Lord's supper should be dispensed in every
parish four times in the year; but this law is now
seldom adhered to, unless in most chapels of
ease. In country parishes it is often adminis-
tered not above once a year, and in towns gene-
rally only twice a year. The people are prepared
for that holy ordinance by a fast and public wor-
ship on some day of the preceding week, gene-
rally on Thursday, and by a sermon on the
Saturday ; and they meet again in the kirk on
the Monday morning for public thanksgiving.
They have no altars or chancels in the kirks,
and the communion tables are not fixed, but in-
troduced for the occasion ; and are sometimes
two or more in number, and of considerable ,
length. At the first table, the minister, imme-
diately upon concluding what they call the con-
secration prayer, usually proceeds to read the
words of the institution, and, without adding
more, to distribute the elements, which he does
only to the two communicants who sit nearest
him on each hand. It is usual for the elders to
administer them to the rest. But before, or
during, the services of the succeeding tables, ad-
dresses at some length are made to the commu-
nicants by the minister, or by one of the ministers
(for there are generally two, three, or more pre-
sent), standing at the head of the communion
table.
In conducting public worship, the creed, the
ten commandments, and the doxologyare not in-
troduced as essential parts of the service ; and
there is no observation in this church of festivals.
Days of public fasting and thanksgiving she
does indeed sometimes observe, particularly
576
SCOTLAND.
those commanded by his majesty, together with
the fast previous to the celebration of the holy
communion, and the day of thanksgiving after it.
But she has no Lent fast — no kneeling; at public
prayer — no public worship of God, without a
sermon, or public instruction — no instrumental
music — no consecration of churches or of bury-
ing grounds — no funeral service or ceremony —
no sign of the cross in baptism — no regular use
of the Lord's Prayer — and no administration of
the holy communion in private houses.
With regard to confirmation, her members re-
ject it ; but they do not condemn it. On the con-
trary, ' we endeavour,' says Dr. Hill, ' to supply
the want of it in a manner which appears to us
to answer the same purpose. We account our-
selves bound to exercise a continued inspection
over the Christian education of those who have
been baptised, that, as far as our authority and
exertions can be of any avail, parents may not
neglect to fufil their vow ; and when young per-
sons partake, for the first time, of the Lord's
Supper, we are careful, by private conference
and public instruction, to impress upon their
minds such a sense of the nature of that action,
that they may consider themselves as then
making that declaration of faith, and entering
into those engagements, which would have ac-
companied their baptism had it been delayed till
riper years.
By the First Book of Discipline, which was
compiled by Knox and his associates, and rati-
fied by anact of council in 1560, the apostolical
rite of ordination by the imposition of hands was
laid aside as superstitious; but it was restored
in the second book of Discipline, in 1578, and
is now practised as formerly in the kirk of Scot-
land, where, as in other presbyterian churches,
ordination is vested in the presbytery ; and every
minister is ordained to his charge in the face of
fvs congregation.
The metre of the version of the Psalms used
in this church must be allowed to be very in-
ferior ; but, besides the Psalms of David, a col-
lection of translations and paraphrases in verse,
of several passages of sacred Scripture, together
with some hymns, has been introduced into this
church of late years, by permission of the general
assembly ; and a new version of the Psalms in
metre is now in progress.
The church government and discipline are
amongst the most important features of the Scot-
tish church. At the Revolution, the famous sta-
tute of 1592 was taken as the model : the different
courts specified in it were restored : viz. sessions,
presbyteries, provincial synods, and general assem-
blies. Regard was also had to the form of church
government agreed upon in the assembly of West-
minster divines, and ratified afterwards by an act
of the general assembly, in the year 1645 ; and,
of the societies at present formed upon the
presbyterian model, it may safely be affirmed
that the church of Scotland is by much the most
respectable. A short view of her constitution
may not therefore be unacceptable to the reader ;
and hers may be. considered as the fairest speci-
men, now existing, of presbyterian church go-
vernment in general. In this church, every
regulation of public worship, every act of dis-
cipline, and every ecclesiastical censure, which
in episcopal churches flows from the authority
of a diocesan bishop, or from a convocation of
the clergy, is the joint work of a certain number
of ministers and laymen acting together with equal
authority, and deciding every question by a
plurality of voices.
The laymen, who thus form an essential part
of the ecclesiastical courts of Scotland, are called
elders, and ruling elders ; but, though they have
the same name, it does not appear that they hold
the same office with the elders mentioned by St.
Paul in 1 Tim. v. &c. ; for these last labored in
the word and doctrine.
The number of elders is proportioned to the ex-
tent and population of the parish ; and few
parishes, except where the unpopularity of the
minister has induced most of the people to
secede, have fewer than two or three. In Edin-
burgh every parish has, at least, twelve elders.
The Canongate parish has betwixt twenty and
thirty; and the West Kirk, or St. Cuthbert's, which
is one of the most populous parishes in Scot-
land (containing within its bounds upwards of
40,000 souls), has above fifty. These elders are
grave and sober persons, chosen from among the
heads of families of known orthodoxy and
steady adherence to the worship, discipline, and
government of the kirk. Being solemnly en-
gaged to use their utmost endeavours for the sup-
pression of vice, and the cherishing of piety and
virtue, and to exercise discipline faithfully and
diligently, the minister, in the presence of the
congregation, sets them apart to their office by
solemn prayer, and concludes the ceremony,
which is called ordination, with exhorting both
elders and people to their respective duties.
This office, in many respects, resembles that of
the churchwardens in the church of England ;
but the lay elders seem to possess more spiritual
jurisdiction than the churchwardens in their re-
spective parishes.
The kirk session, which is the lowest eccle-
siastical judicatory, or court, and which the
Westminster Assembly in 1645 asserted to be of
divine right, consists of the minister and those
elders vf the congregation. The minister is, ex
officio, moderator, but has no negative voice over
the decision of the session ; nor indeed has he a
right to vote at all, unless when the voices of the
elders are equal and opposite. He may, indeed,
enter his protest against their sentence, if he think
it improper, and appeal to the judgment of the
presbytery ; but this privilege belongs equally to
every elder, as well as to every person who may
believe himself aggrieved by the proceedings of
the session. Nor can the minister, though he
may examine, admit any person to the privilege
of membership, till the whole of his session, as
well as himself, are satisfied both as to the candi-
date's knowledge and piety.
The next juaicatory is the Presbytery, which
answers to the consistories in the Protestant
churches on the continent, and is also maintained
by some to be jure divino. It consists of all the
pastors within a certain district, and one ruling
elder from each parish, commissioned by his
brethren to represent, in conjunction with the
minister, the session of that parish. It treats en
SCOTLAND.
577
such matters as concern tlie purticular churches
within its bounds — as the examination, admis-
sion, ordination, and censuring of ministers: the
licensing of probationers ; rebuking of gross or
contumacious sinners ; the directing the sentence
of excommunication ; the deciding upon re-
ferences and appeals from kirk sessions ; resolv-
ing cases of conscience : explaining difficulties
in doctrine or discipline ; and censuring, accord-
ing to their views of the word of God, any
heresy or erroneous doctrine, which hath either
been publicly or privately maintained within the
bounds of its jurisdiction. But that part of the
constitution of this church, which gives an equal
vote, in questions of heresy, to an illiterate me-
chanic and his learned pastor, has not been uni-
versally approved, but has been considered by
some as having been the source of much trouole
to many a pious clergyman, who, from the laud-
able desire of explaining the Scriptures, and de-
claring to his flock all the counsel of God, has
employed a variety of expressions, of the same
import, to illustrate those articles of faith which
may be obscurely expressed in the established
standards. The fact, however, is, that in pres-
byteries the only prerogatives which the pastors
have over the ruling elders are the power of or-
dination by imposition of hands, which is lodged
in this ecclesiastical court, and the privilege of
having the moderator chosen from their body.
The number of presbyteries in Scotland is
seventy-eight; and those of Edinburgh, Glasgow,
Perth, and two or three more, meet every month ;
but in country districts they seldom meet above
four or five times a year, unless when some
business occurs which requires them to meet
oftener.
From the judgment of the presbytery there
lies an appeal to the provincial synod, which or-
dinarily meets twice in the year, is opened with
a sermon, and exercises over the presbyteries
within the province a jurisdiction similar to that
which is vested in each presbytery over the
several kirk sessions within its bounds. Of these
synods, there are in the church of Scotland six-
teen, including that of Shetland, which are com-
posed of the members of the several presbyteries
within the respective provinces which give names
to the synods.
The highest ecclesiastical court, and the foun-
tain of jurisdiction in this church, is the general
assembly, which consists of a certain number of
ministers and ruling elders, delegated from each
presbytery, and of commissioners from the royal
boroughs. By act 5th of the assembly 1694, a
presbytery, in which there are fewer than twelve
parishes, sends to the general assembly two
ministers and one ruling elder ; if it contain be-
tween twelve and eighteen ministers, it sends
three of these and one ruling elder; if it con-
tain between eighteen and twenty-four ministers,
it sends four ministers, and two ruling elders ;
and of twenty-four ministers, when it contains so
many, it sends five, with two ruling elders.
Every royal borough sends one ruling elder (and
Edinburgh- two), whose election must be at-
tested by the kirk sessions of their respective bo-
rough ; and every university sends one commis-
sioner from its own bodv.
Vol. XIX.
According to this proportion of representa-
tion, the general assembly, in the present state of
the church, consists of the following members,
viz. —
Ministers representing presbyteries . . . 200
Elders representing presbyteries .... 89
Elders representing royal boroughs ... 67
Ministers or elders representing universities 5
361
The representatives are chosen annually about
six weeks before the meeting of the assembly
(which always takes place in May) and in Edin-
burgh ; and the ruling elders are seldom the lay
elders of the different parishes, but often gentle-
men of the law in Edinburgh, and men of emi-
nence in the kingdom for rank and talents. Yet
many of them, it is well known, are not so deeply
impressed with a sense of religion, as to be in-
terested in the proceedings of an ecclesiastical
court where temporalities are not concerned, and
much less to be duly qualified for deliberating
and deciding on religious subject's. This as-
sembly is honored with a representative of the
sovereign, in the person of the lord high com-
missioner, who is always a nobleman, and pre-
sides, and has a salary of £1500 per annum;
but he has no voice in their deliberations.
The order of their proceedings is regular, and
in general much decorum is observed ; but
sometimes opposition runs high between the two
parties in the church, who often take this oppor-
tunity of trying their strength; and a confusion
arises from the number of members, the collision of
ministers and laymen, &c.; which the moderator,
who is annually chosen from among the former,
to be, as it were, the speaker of the house, has
not sufficient authority to prevent. The assem-
bly continues to sit for ten days ; at the end of
which time it is dissolved, first by the mode-
rator, who appoints another assembly to be held
upon a certain day of the month of May in the
following year ; and then by the lord high com-
missioner, who, in his majesty's name, appoints
another assembly to be held upon the day which
had just been mentioned by the moderator.
Appeals are brought from all the other eccle-
siastical courts in Scotland to the general assem-
bly ; and, in questions purely religious, no appeal
lies from its determinations. At the close of
each general assembly, a commission of assem-
bly is appointed; but to the laws already made
no new one can be added, till it has been pro-
posed in one general assembly, and by them
transmitted to every presbytery for their consent.
If this, or at least the consent of the majority, is
obtained, the assembly next year may pass it
into an act, which henceforth must be regarded
as a constitutional law of the kirk. In the sub-
ordination of these assemblies and courts of
review, parochial, presbyterial, provincial, and
national, the less unto the greater, consists the
external order, strength, and stedfastness of the
church of Scotland.
The discipline of this church, though now
somewhat relaxed, was never so rigorous as that
of Geneva, the church on whose model it was
formed. In that temporal exercise of discipline
2 F
578
SCOTLAND.
which the general practice of the church of
Scotland recognises as congenial to her constitu-
tion, ' care is taken,' says Dr. Hill, ' to avoid
every appearance of intermeddling officiously
with those matters that fall under the cognisance
of the civil magistrate. No solicitude is ever
discovered to engage in the investigation of
secret wickedness : counsel, private admonition,
and reproof are employed in their proper season ;
and the public censures of the church are re-
served for those scandalous sins which bring re-
proach upon religion, which give offence to the
Christian society, and which cannot be overlooked
without the danger of hardening the sinner, of
emboldening others to follow his example, and of
disturbing and grieving the minds of many
worthy Christians.'
It was formerly the general practice to oblige
adulterers and fornicators to present themselves
in the kirk, for three different Sundays, oh a
bench, known by the name of the stool of re-
pentance, when they were publicly rebuked by
their minister, in the face of the congregation ;
but this punishment is now often changed iiito a
pecuniary fine. For this change, however, there
seems to be no law ; and the old practice of
publicly rebuking such transgressors, though very
much disliked and cried down by the gentry and
others, as an occasion of child murder, &c., is
still continued in a great majority of the parishes.
In Edinburgh it is entirely discontinued, be-
cause believed to be impracticable ; but in
Glasgow, Paisley, Stirling, and other towns, the
old discipline is maintained.
By the discipline of the church, a parent who
is under public scandal is disqualified from pre-
senting his child for baptism, till such time as
his character is cleared up, or he has satisfied
the kirk ; but as it sometimes happens that this
does not soon take place, and in the mean time
the child is refused the benefit of baptism, this
practice is disapproved of by many, as having
the appearance of punishing the children for the
iniquity of the parents. ' Anima quae peccaverit,
ista motietur.'
In Scotland, and the islands of Scotland, the
kirk contains within her hounds 893 parishes,
and about 1,500,000 members. The number
of ministers belonging to her, who enjoy bene-
fices, and possess ecclesiastical authority, is 940.
Of this number, seventy-seven are placed in
collegiate charges, mostly in the proportion of
two ministers for each of these charges; and the
remaining 863 ministers are settled in single
charges, each of them having the superinten-
dence of a whole parish. In very populous
parishes, chapels of ease are erected with con-
sent of the kirk, and are supported by voluntary
subscriptions; but the ministers who officiate
in them are not included in this number, as they
are not members of any ecclesiastical courts.
The duties of the Scotch clergy are numerous
;>nd laborious. They officiate regularly in the
public worship of God ; and, in general, they
must go through this duty twice every Sunday
(exclusive of other occasional appearances), de-
livering every Sunday a lecture and a sermon,
Aith prayers. It is also expected, throughout
Scotland, that the prayers and discourses shall be
of the minister's own composition; and th^
prayers in all cases, and the discourses in most
instances, are delivered without the use of papers.
They are expected to perform the alternate du-
ties of examining their people from the Scrip-
tures, and catechisms of the church, and of
visiting them from house to house, with prayers
and exhortations. This is done commonly once
in the year, being omitted only in those cases
wherein the ministers deem it impracticable, or
not acceptable, or at least not necessary. The
charge of the poor devolves, in a very particular
manner, on the clergy ; and in them also is vested
the superintendence of all schools within their
bounds.
The provision which has been made, by the
law of Scotland, for the support of the established
clergy, consists in a stipend, payable in victual
or money, or partly in each ; a small glebe of
land ; and a manse (parsonage-house) and oflice-
houses. In cities and towns the stipends are
generally paid in money ; in ' landward' (i. e.
country) parishes, they are, for the most part,
liquidated in money and victual. They are de-
rived from a charge on the rents of land, paid by
the landlord, throughout Scotland, upon princi-
ples fixed so far back as the reigns of Charles I.
and II., confirmed by king William, and now
made permanent by the treaty of Union. So
long as there are any free teinds (i. e. tithes) in
a parish, belonging to the minister, he can bring
a process for augmenting his stipend, at the end
of every twenty years, before the court of ses-
sion, whose members sit as commissioners for
the plantation of kirks and valuation of teinds.
In this process all the heritors of land in the
parish are called as parties ; and if the minister
can prove that, from change of circumstances,
his stipend should be augmented, the ju
grant his request; but, if they see no cause f. r
entertaining his reasons, they refuse his applica-
tion.
An act of parliament passed in 1810, granting
£10,000 per annum for augmenting the smaller
parish stipends in Scotland. By this act, the
lowest stipend assigned to a minister of tlu
tablishment is £150 sterling, with a small sum.
generally £8 6s. 8d., for communion elements.
Stipends, where the tiends are not exhausted,
are, with the exclusion of communion elements,
wholly paid in victual, generally oatmeal and
barley, in equal proportions ; and the court fre-
quently allocates, as it is termed, to a minister,
from sixteen to eighteen chalders. If the stipend
exhaust the teind, it is sometimes paid in money ;
and there are cases in which the teind was origi-
nally set apart in money, and not in victual.
The glebe consists legally of at least four acres
of arable land, and, in fact, generally exceeds
that measure. Most of the ministers of country
parishes enjoy glebes; but those of royal boroughs
in general, as well as those of cities and towns,
have no glebes. Besides the glebe, the minister
of a landward parish is entitled to as much of
grass-lands as may support a horse and two cows ;
' yet perhaps one half of the clergy have no grass,
nor any allowance for it.'
The whole church establishment, as a burden
on land, may be stated in one view, as follows—
SCOTLAND.
579
viz. a glebe, of perhaps about six or seven acres,
out of nearly 21,000, and the grass, where it is
allowed ; a stipend of about 9rf. in the pound of
the land rents ; and buildings and communion
charges, amounting to 4rf. or 5d. more in the
pound, of these land rents. All these put to-
gether constitute the burdens of the Scottish ec-
clesiastical establishment, in so far as proprietors
of land are affected by them ; and are not sup-
posed to exceed £300,000 per annum. Thus the
clergy are removed from the extremes of wealth
and poverty. Their revenues, though sufficient,
are not ample enough to tempt the cupidity of
the higher classes ; and the livings are therefore
engrossed by persons sprung from the middle
and lower classes, who naturally identify them-
selves with these classes, understand their situa-
tions, and participate in all their joys and sor-
rows. Being all on nearly a footing of equality,
they have no unattained object of ambition to
distract their attention from the important labors
of their professions. They have seldom any
prospect of changing their livings, and therefore
find it their interest, as well as their duty, to
establish their character and respectability by a
diligent and faithful discharge of professional
duties.
The dissenters from the Scottish kirk are
numerous, and embrace, in the metropolis and
on the eastern coast, particularly in the county
of Aberdeen, a considerable number of episcopa
lians. They are supposed to amount to upwards
of 40,000, having six bishops and seventy clergy-
men ; and are the only body of dissenters that
have been distinctly recognized by the parliament
of Great Britain. Each bishop, as in Sweden,
Denmark, and America, as well as exercising a
superintendence over the other clergy, is the pas-
tor of a particular congregation. The history of
this body is interesting. At the Revolution the
Scottish church, as we have seen, became by act
of parliament presbyterian ; chiefly from the cir-
cumstance of her bishops and clergy holding the
extreme doctrines, as they have been called, of
non-resistance and passive obedience to the
powers that be. That is, they became nonjurors
in respect to the government of William and
Mary.
Such, say the episcopal writers, being the con-
duct and consequent circumstances of the gover-
nors and clergy of the Scottish episcopal church,
they have, on this occasion, exhibited an instance
of disinterestedness, of generous attachment to
fallen majesty, and of conscientious adherence to
principle, than which the history of the world
does not furnish one more illustrious. Whether
they acted rightly or not is a question that,
from the opposite views and discordant princi-
ples and passions of mankind, we can scarcely
suppose will ever be determined to the satisfac-
tion of all parties. This much, however, is cer-
tain, that had those venerable fathers possessed
the more pliant principles of many distinguished
characters of that turbulent period — had they
truckled without scruple to the authorities which
then prevailed, or measured their notions of
what was just and right by their feelings of what
was most conducive to their present and tempo-
ral interest —
'Trojaque nunc stares — Priamique arx alta ma acres !'
they might have remained in the peaceable pos-
session of their dignities and benefices; for it is
well known that the prince of Orange, afterwards
king William III., offered to protect them, and
preserve their establishment inviolate, provided
they would come over to his interests, and sup-
port his pretensions to the throne. But this,
from a principle of conscience, they unanimously
declined to do ; and the consequences were that
they and many of their clergy were given up a
prey to their enemies, and were exposed to such
hardships and indignities as one cannot read of
without emotion, or think of without pain.
Some relaxation of the seventies with which
they were treated under king William was, how-
ever, granted them by queen Anne, in 1712,
when an act of parliament was passed ' to pre-
vent the disturbing of those of the episcopal com-
munion in Scotland, in the exercise of their
religious worship, and in the use of the liturgy
of the church of England.' In consequence of
this indulgence that liturgy, which the ablest
them had long professed to admire, and which
some of them had already introduced into their
assemblies, was universally adopted by them;
and public chapels, which had till then been
prohibited, were every where built, and well fre-
quented. The same principles which had in-
fluenced them to withhold their allegiance from
king William and queen Anne, would not allow
them, as a body, to transfer it to a new family,
clogged as it was by so many oaths, especially by
that of abjuration. Yet many individuals com-
plied with the government, and gave every test
of allegiance which was required of them ; but,
as if the insurgents of 1715 had been wholly of
their communion, new restraints were then laid
upon their public worship, and upon theirs only,
which no doubt revived in some degree their
original prepossessions. These restraints, how-
ever, were neither very severe, nor of long con-
tinuance ; for by the year 1 720 their congregations
were as numerous as formerly, consisting, es-
pecially in the north, of men of all ranks, even
such as held offices of trust under the established
government.
Yet nothing less than the extinction of this
body seems to have been the aim of those whose
enmity proposed, and whose influence procured
to be enacted, those penal statutes of 1746 and
1748, which were less calculated to eradicate
the attachment of this society to the house of
Stuart than to produce disaffection to the existing
government, where it did not previously exist.
They had also an unhappy effect on the religion
of the country ; for, by driving out of the epis-
copal church many persons of distinction, whose
principles or prejudices would not allow them
to communicate with any other society of Chris-
tians around them, the consequence was, as
foreseen and foretold by bishop Sherlock, that
neglect of religion, and of the duties of public
worship, which has long furnished matter of
serious regret, and which is still too visible even
at the present duy. Upon the clergy, however,
who even then amounted to nearly 200, those
rigorous laws were not long rigorously executed.
2 P 2
580
SCOTLAND.
After a few years, tlie burning of chapels, and
the imprisonment of ministers, were occurrences
that seldom happened ; but in as far as those laws
affected the political privileges of those laymen
who frequented their chapels, in that part of their
operation they were in no degree relaxed till
1792, when they were wholly repealed, and the
Scottish episcopalians tolerated, like other well-
affected dissenters from the national establish-
ment.
The act of parliament which at this time
passed for their benefit requires them to sub-
scribe the thirty-nine articles of the church of
England.
The other dissenters from the kirk are of the
same variety in denomination and general cha-
racter as the dissenters of England, and embrace
burghers and antiburghers, now united under the
title of the United Secession ; Quakers, Bereans,
Baptists, and Glassites. There are Catholic
churches also in almost all the principal towns ;
in the northern parts of Scotland this religion
has survived the reformation.
In no country is there ampler provision for
education than in Scotland : perhaps in no other
part of the world is equal attention paid to the
subject. To the efficacy of her institutions for
this purpose is to be ascribed that general cul-
tivation which is diffused among the mass of the
people. An act passed in the reign of William
and Mary, ordaining that there shall be a school
and a school- master in every parish, his fee not
to be under 100 merks, and not to be above
200. These establishments, in which were
taught reading, writing, arithmetic, Latin and
Greek, placed a superior education within the
reach of the poor ; every person was instructed
in the ordinary branches of education ; know-
ledge was eagerly sought afier, and ignorance
was accounted disgraceful. This laudable spirit
is now so universally spread that a more moral,
orderly, or better instructed class of people than
the great body of the community in Scotland, is
no where found. In consequence of the depre-
ciation of money, the allowances to those parish
schoolmasters became gradually insufficient for
their decent maintenance ; and in 1803 the
legislature most wisely augmented the school-
master's salary to 300 merks the lowest, and 400
merks the highest, together with a dwelling-
house of at least two apartments, a commodious
school-house, and a garden containing a quarter
of an acre of ground. Besides these parish-
schools, there are academies in most of the large
towns, where every branch of education is taught.
Scotland has also four universities, namely, at
Edinburgh, St. Andrew's, Glasgow, and Aber-
deen. That of Edinburgh has acquired the
most extensive and well merited reputation, for
the great attainments of its professors in litera-
ture and science ; students of medicine in par-
ticular have long resorted to it from all parts of
the world ; and it has often been considered the
very first of medical schools. At the time of
the union with England, the ancient constitution
of Scotland was so far superseded, that in the par-
liament of the United Kingdom the Scots nobi-
lity are represented by sixteen peers. In the
house of commons, the freeholders of the coun-
ties, amounting to 2429, are represented by
thirty commissioners or knights of the shires.
The royal burghs, which are sixty-five in num-
ber, exclusive of the city of Edinburgh, which
sends one member, are divided into fourteen
districts, which return as many members, elected
by a delegate from each burgh. Scotland, how-
ever, still retains her own ancient laws and in-
stitutions ; and civil and criminal justice is ad-
ministered by the college of justice, instituted
by James V. in 1532, after the model of the
French parliament, to supply an ambulatory
committee of parliament, who took on them-
selves the name of the lords of council and ses-
sion, which the great members of the college of
justice still retain.
The court of session is the highest court in
Scotland, and consists of a president, and four-
teen ordinary lords. This court may be termed
a standing jury, who determine all civil causes
according to the statutes, the custom of the
nation, and the civil law. No appeal lies from
it but to the house of lords. In 1807 the court
of session was formed into two divisions, the
first, consisting of seven members, under the
lord president; the second division, under the
lord justice clerk, consisting of six members.
In 1815 a jury court was established under a
lord chief commissioner, and two other commis-
sioners for the trial of civil cases. The court of
justiciary is the highest criminal court in Scot-
land. It consists of a lord justice general, who
has a salary of £2000 per annum ; a lord justice
clerk, who is president; and five other judges
nominated from the senators of the college of
justice. The pannel has not the power, as in
England, of setting aside a juryman, without
assigning a reason. He must be served with
a copy of his indictment, and a list of the
witnesses who are to appear against him, and
another list of forty-five men, out of which his
jury is to be chosen, fifteen free days before his
trial.
The lords commissioners of justiciary make a
circuit twice a year to the different districts of
Scotland. All criminal cases before this court
are tried by a jury of fifteen persons, whose
verdict condemns or acquits by a bare plurality
of votes. The court of exchequer has the same
powers, privileges, jurisdictions, and authority
over the revenue of Scotland, as that of Eng-
land over the revenue of England. This court
consists of a lord chief baron and four other
barons, two remembrancers, a clerk of the pipe,
&c. All the causes are here tried by jury. In
the high court of admiralty there is only one
judge, who is the king's lieutenant and justice
general upon the seas, and in all ports and har-
bours. He has a jurisdiction in all maritime
causes ; and by prescription he has acquired a
jurisdiction in mercantile causes not maritime.
His decisions are subject to the review of the
court of session in civil, and to that of the court
of justiciary in criminal, cases.
The college or faculty of advocates answers to
the English inns of court ; and, subordinate to
them, is a body of inferior lawyers or attornies,
styled writers to the signet, because they alone
can substantiate the writings that pass the sit;-
SCO
581
SCO
net. The commissary court consists of four
judges nominated by the crown, and 1ms an
original jurisdiction in questions of marriage and
divorce, and reviews the decrees of local com-
missary courts. It sanctions the appointment
of executors, and ascertains debts relating to the
last illness and funeral charges of persons de-
ceased, or obligations arising from testaments,
or actions of scandal, and upon all debts which
do not exceed £40. The keeper of the great
and privy seals, the lord register, and the lord
advocate, are officers of state.
Every county has a chief magistrate called a
sheriff, whose jurisdiction extends to certain
criminal cases, and to all civil matters which
are not by special law or custom appropriated to
other courts. In cases of inferior importance,
also, the magistrates of cities and royal burghs
have a jurisdiction, which is subject to review
of the sheriff. Justice of peace courts were
instituted in 1809, which are in almost every
respect similar to those in England, though
their powers are not so well denned. There is
also a small debt court held monthly in every
town of any note, where cases not exceeding £5
are decided in a summary manner. See our
article LAW, part III., for a more particular
account of the statute and other laws of Scotland.
SCOTT (Daniel), LL.D., a learned English
author and critic, who received the first part of
his education at Tewksbury, and finished it at
Utrecht, where he was graduated. He wrote
several treatises on Theology; and, in 1745,
published an Appendix to Henry Stephens's
Greek Lexicon, 2 vols. folio.
SCOTT (John), D.D., an eminent English di-
vine, born, in 1638, atChippenham in Wiltshire.
He was educated at Oxford ; admitted a com-
moner in 1657, and made great progress in
logic and philosophy. He became minister of
St. Thomas s in Southwark. In 1684 he was
collated to a prebend in the cathedral of St.
Paul's. Dr. Hickes tells us that after the revo-
lution, 'he first refused the bishopric of Chester,
because he would not take the oath of homage ;
and afterwards another bishopric, the deanery of
Worcester, and a prebend of the church at
Windsor, because they were all places of de-
prived men.' In 1691, however, he was made
rector of St. Giles's, and canon of Windsor. He
published several works : — 1. The Christian Life,
which has been often reprinted ; 2. Examination
of Bellarmine's Eighth Note on Sanctity ; 3.
Texts Examined which Papists quote for Prayer
in an Unknown Tongue ; 4. Cases of Consci-
ence. He died in 1695.
SCOTT (Rev. Thomas), an English clergyman
of I he established church, was born at Bray toft
in Lincolnshire, February 4th, 1746, 1747. His
father, a small farmer with a large family, was a
man of strong sense, and ambitious of bringing
up one of his family to a profession. The
eldest son, therefore, was bred a surgeon, but
died young ; on which Thomas was put to school
to learn Latin. At the age of sixteen he was
bound apprentice to a medical practitioner at
Alford ; but at the end of two months he was
dismissed, for what cause is not stated by his
biographers. He was now employed to keep
sheep, but, having a strong desire to enter into
orders, he consulted a clergyman at Boston, who
encouraged his attempt at qualifying himself for
the ministry : and he had acquired a competent
knowledge of Greek as well as Latin, when the
bishop of Lincoln, Dr. Green, admitted him to
orders in 1773. His first situation was a curacy
•n Buckinghamshire, where he held a correspon-
dence and controversy with Mr. John Newton,
which ended in the conversion of Mr. Scott to
'.he Calvinisiic sentiments of his friend : and, on
Mr. Newton's removal, Mr. Scott succeeded him
in the curacy of Olney: this was in 1781.
Four years afterwards he removed to the chap-
lainship of the Lock Chapel, near Hyde Park
Corner, and held besides two lectureships in the
city. In 1801 he obtained the living of Aston
Sandford, in Buckinghamshire; and here he
died, April 16th, 1821, much beloved and re-
spected. Mr. Scott was an able defender of
Calvinism, and a good practical expositor of the
Scriptures. His Family Bible has gone through
several editions. His other works are numerous,
and very popular with his party.
SCOTT (Sir Walter), Bart., eldest son of Wal-
fer Scott, writer to the signet in Edinburgh, was
born in that city, August 15, 1771. His mother,
a friend of Burns and Allan Ramsay, was a lady
of talent, and author of several small poems
of considerable merit. He was educated at the
high school of Edinburgh under doctor Adam,
and at the university under professor Stewart.
According to his own account, he had a distin-
guished character as a tale-teller, "at a time
when the applause of his companions was his
recompence for the disgraces and punishments
which the future romance writer incurred for
being idle himself, and keeping others idle,
during hours that should have been employed
on their tasks." It was the favorite amusement
of his holidays to wander, with a friend of the
same taste, through the solitary environs of
Arthur's seat and Salisbury crags, reciting and
listening to such wild stories as his own and his
friend's imagination were able to devise. This
truant disposition seems to have been increased
by a long illness, the consequence of the rup-
ture of a blood-vessel, at the age of fifteen,
during which he was left to the indulgence of
his own taste in reading, and. after having de-
voured all the romances, old plays, and epic
poetry furnished by a considerable circulating
library, his time was occupied in perusing his-
tories, memoirs, voyages, and travels. Two
years spent in this manner, were followed by a
residence in the country, in which he made the
same use of a good library, to which he had ac-
cess, that Waverley is represented to have done
in a similar situation. Though lame from his
birth, and early of feeble health, his strength
was afterwards confirmed ; and, during the
greater part of his life, he has been remarkable
for his personal activity, and passionately fond
5*2
SCOTT.
of field sports. In 1792, having completed his
preparatory studies, he was called to the bar;
but his literary taste diverted his attention from
the practice of his profession, which he soon
abandoned for employments more agreeable to
his inclination. His patrimonial estate was also
considerable, and, in 1800, he obtained the pre-
ferment of sheriff of Selkirkshire, of about £300
a year in value. In 1806, he was appointed one
of the principal clerks of the session in Scotland.
His first literary attempts were translations from
the German ballad poetry, which rirst became
known in Great Britain towards the close of the
last century. In 1796, he published a volume
containing a poetical version of Burger's Lenore,
and of the ballad of the Wild Huntsman (Der
Wilde Jdger). This attempt he himself de-
scribes as a complete failure. His first original
productions were several excellent ballads
(Glenfinlas, the Eve of St. John, &c.), which
appeared in Lewis's Tales of \Vonder (1801).
In 1302, appeared his Minstrelsy of the Scottish
Border, a collection of ballads, ancient and
modern, of the Border districts, with an intro-
duction and notes (2 vols. 8vo.), which very
much extended his reputation ; to which suc-
ceeded, in 1804, Sir Tristram, a metrical Ro-
mance of the Thirteenth Century, by Thomas of
Ercildoune, with a preliminary dissertation and
glossary. Meanwhile, Mr. Scott had married,
and taken up his residence at Ashiesteel, on the
banks of the Tweed, about thirty miles from
Edinburgh, "a delightful retirement," to use
his own words, " in an uncommonly beautiful
situation, by the side of a fine river, whose
streams are favorable for angling, and surrounded
by hills abounding in game." His first original
work of considerable extent, was the Lay of the
Last Minstrel (1805), which was received with
univ.-rsal applause, and was succeeded, two
years alter, by Marmion (1808), the appearance
of which was hastened by the' misfortunes of a
near relation and friend. The Lady of the
Lake (18 10), the Vision of Don Roderick (181 1),
Rokeby (1812), Lord of the Isles (1814),
Harold the Dauntless, and the Bridal of Trier-
main, the two latter of which appeared anony-
mously, with some other works of less merit,
marked his brilliant poetical career. Upwards
of 30,000 copies of the Lay were sold by the
trade in England, previously to 1829, and of
Marmion (for which the author received £1000),
36,000 copies were sold between 1805 and
1825; for the manuscript of Rokeby the pub-
lishers gave him £3000. If the success of his
first productions is in some measure to be attri-
buted, as the author himself modestly intimates,
to the low state of poetry in Great Britain at the
beginning of the present century, and lo the
substitution of the animated and varied octosyl-
labic verse, or romantic stanza, for the more
cumbersome and stately heroic, yet the freshness,
fire, and truth of description, the dramatic dis-
tinctness of the action and characters, the rich-
ness of the imagery, and the vivacity and poeti-
cal beauty of style which characterize them,
would at any time have attracted attention, and
won tiie admiration of the public. Mr. Scott
was, during the period in which his principal
poems appeared, also employed in editing the
works of other authors. In his capacity of
editor, he completed the Works of Dryden, with
a Life of the Author, and Notes (18 vols. 8vo.,
1808); Lord Somer's Tracts (12 vols., 1809 to
1812); Description and Illustration of the I.ay
of the Last Minstrel (1810); Sir Ralph Sadler's
State Papers (2 vols. 4to., 1810) ; Poetical
Works of Anna Seward (3 vols 8vo., 1810);
the Woiks of Jonathan Swift (19 vols. 8vo.,
1814); and the Border Antiquities of England
and Scotland, 4to. In 1811, he removed to
Abbotsford, six or seven miles below his for-
mer residence, on the Tweed, where he pur-
chased a farm of about 100 acres, for the pur-
pose of having some more quiet out-door occu-
pation than field sports. "The nakedness of
the land,'' says he, " was in time hidden by
woodlands ; the smallest of possible cottages
was progressively expanded into a sort of dream
of a mansion house, whimsical in the exterior,
but convenient within. Nor did I forget what
is the natural pleasure of every man who has
been a reader, I mean the filling the shelves of
a tolerably large library." Here he continued
to reside, exercising the most open hospitality,
and receiving the hcmage of admiration from all
parts of the world His grounds were pic-
turesquely, and at the same time profitably,
laid out, and his library amounted to about
15,000 volumes. In 1814, he appeared in a
new character — that of a novelist. Although the
greater part of his romances were published
anonymously, and he did not disclose the fact of
his being the author until February, 1827, yet
little doubt was previously entertained on the
subject. A portion of Waverley was written as
early as 1805, and announced under the title of
" Waverley, or 'Tis Fifty Years since." On ac-
count of the unfavorable opinion of a friend, it
was thrown by and forgotten, until, about eight
or nine years afterwards, the author accidentally
discovered it in searching for some fishing
tackle, and immediately set to work to complete
it. The subsequent novels have come out in the
following order: In 1815, Guy Mannerin^; in
1816, the Antiquary, and Tales of My Land-
lord (consisting of the Black Dwarf and Old
Mortality); 1818, Rob Roy, and Tales of my
Landlord (2nd series, consisting of the Heart of
Mid Lothian); 1819, Tales of My Landlord
(3rd series, consisting of the Bride of Lammer-
muir, and the Legend of Montrose) ; 1820,
Ivanhoe, the Monastery, and the Abbot ; 1821,
Kenilworth ; 1822, the Pirate, and the Fortunes
of Nigel; 1823, Quentin Durward, and Peveril
of the Peak; 1824, St. Ronan's Well, and Ked-
gauntlet; 1825, Tales of the Crusaders; 1826,
Woodstock; 18'27, Chronicles of the Canon-
gate (1st series); 1828, Chronicles of the Canon-
gate (2nd series); 1829, Anne of Gi-ierstein;
and 1831, Tales of My Landlord (4th series).
These works, rapidly as they were produced,
were not only the fruits of his unaided genius,
but the original manuscripts are entirely written
in his own hand, excepting those of 1818 and
1819, when his illness obliged him to employ
an amanuensis. Among his miscellaneous
works, most of which are contained in the col
E .Goodall fculp
TIIK AirnroR OF - WAVE RLE Y,
IN HIS STUDY.
SCO
583
SCO
lection entitled Miscellaneous Prose Works of
Sir W. Scott (6 vols. 1827), are Paul's Letters
to his Kinsfolk (1815), giving an account of his
visit to Waterloo, &c. ; Essays on Chivalry,
Romance, and the Drama, in the Supplement to
the Encyclopaedia Britannica; Lives of the
Novelists; and contributions to different periodi-
cal works, &c. In 1820, he was created a baronet.
In 1827, appeared his Life of Napoleon (9 vols.)
— a work of partial views, and executed with too
little care and research to add to the brilliant
reputation of the author. The first, second,
and third series of the Tales of a Grandfather,
illustrative of events in Scottish history. The
Letters on Demonology, and the History of
Scotland (2 vols., 1830), close the long list of
the works of this prolific writer. The revised
editions of his poems and novels contain many
interesting personal details, and sketches of his
literary history, and some of them have been
collected and arranged in America, in a single
volume, under the title of Autobiography of Sir
Walter Scott, Bart.
In 1831, an indisposition, supposed to have
arisen from violent and protracted mental exer-
tion, began to assume a settled character, and
his physician recommended a residence in Italy
as the best means of delaying the approach of a
dangerous illness. He in consequence set sail
for Italy on the 29th of October, 1831,; but,
after an absence of nine months, returned in a
more unfavourable state of health than when he
departed. He returned once more to Abbots-
ford, and lingered on until the 21st of Septem-
ber, when he expired at half-past one in the
afternoon. He was buried amidst the ruined
walls of Dryburgh Abbey, on the 25th of the
month in which he died ; and the hills were
covered, and the villages filled, with mourners.
He was borne from the hearse by his own do-
mestics, and laid in the grave by the hands of
his children.
SCOTT, a county of the north part of Ken-
tucky, United States. The chief place is George
Town. Also a county of Virginia, formed in
1814 out of the counties of Lee, Russel, and
Washington.
SCOTUS (Joannes), or John Erigena, a
famous scholastic divine, born about the begin-
ning of the ninth century ; but where, is a mat-
ter of dispute among authors. All agree, how-
ever, in relating that he travelled to Athens,
where he acquired a competent knowledge of
the Greek and other oriental languages; and,
that he afterwards resided many years in the
court of Charles the Bald, king of France, who,
on account of his singular abilities, treated him
as his intimate friend and companion. During
his residence with Charles, he wrote several
books of scholastic divinity ; which, though ab-
surd enough, were at that time not sufficiently
so to secure him from the imputation of hetero-
doxy; and on that account the pope commanded
Charles the Bald to send him to Rome ; but the
king had too great a regard for his companion
to trust him with his holiness. One of the
chief controversies in which Scotus was engaged,
and with which the pope was much offended,
was concerning thy iv.il presence of the body und
blood of Christ in the wafer. His opinion was
expressed in these few words : — ' What we re-
ceive corporally is not the body of our Lord ;
but that which feeds the soul, and is only per-
ceived by faith.' Whether Scotus returned to
England, or ended his days in France, is a mat-
ter of doubt. Some historians tell us that he left
France in 864 ; and that, after residing about
three years in Oxford, he retired to the abbey of
Malmsbury. He died about 874. Some relate
that he was invited to England by king Alfred ;
but in this they confound him with John, abbo*
of Etheling, who was assassinated in 895 ; and
to this mistake the various contradictory accounts
of him are to be attributed. He appears from
his writings to have been a man of talents, and,
in point of learning, superior to any of his con-
temporaries. He wrote, 1. De Divisione Na-
turae, lib. v. 2. De Pradestinatione Dei. 3
Excerpta de DitTerentiis et Societatibus Graci
Latinique Verbi. 4. De Corpore et Sanguine
Domini. 5. Ambigua S. Maxima seu Scholia
ejus in difficiles locos S. Gregorii Nazianzeni,
Latine Versa. 6. Opera S. Dionysii quatuor in
Latinam Ling. Conversa. 7. De Visione Dei,
and several other works in MS. preserved in
different libraries.
SCOTUS, DUNS (John). See DUNS SCOTUS.
SCOUGAL (Henry), M.A., second son of
Patrick Scougal, bishop of Aberdeen, was born
June 1650, at Salton. On finishing his courses,
he was appointed professor of philosophy in the
university of Aberdeen. In four years, he was,
at the age of twenty-three, ordained a minister,
and settled at Auchterless, twenty miles from
Aberdeen ; where his zeal and ability were emi-
nently displayed. In the twenty-fifth year of
his age he was admitted professor of divinity in
the king's college, Aberdeen. He died of a
consumption on the 20th of June, 1678, in the
twenty-eighth year of his age, and was buried
in the King's College Church in Old Aberdeen.
The principal work of Scougal is a small
treatise entitled, The Life of God in the Soul ot
Man.
SCOUN'DREL, n. s. Ital. scondaruolo. A
hider. — Skinner. A mean rascal ; a low petty
villain. A word rather ludicrous.
Now to be baffled by a tcoundrel,
And upstart sec'tiy, and a mungrel. Hudikras.
St.3vndreli as these wretched Ombites be,
Canopus they exceed in luxury. Tate.
SCOUR, v. a. & v. n. f Goth, skurer ; Dan.
SCOUR'ER, n. s. \ skurer ; Belg. scheu-
ren; Ital. scorrere. To brush hard in order to
clean ; clean by rubbing ; cleanse ; purge ;
range about ; to perform scouring operations :
be purged or lax; rove; range; run here and
there : a scourer is a person or thing that scours.
Divers are kept continually to scour these seas, in-
fested greatly by pirates. Sandyt.
Poor Vadius, loDg with learned spleen devoured,
Can taste no pleasure since his shield was tcoured.
Pope.
SCOURGE, n. s. & v.a. Fr. escourgee ; Ital.
scoreggia ; Lat. corregia. A whip ; lash ; an
instrument of discipline ; punisher of any kind :
to scourge is to use such an instrument.
SCR
Immortal Jove !
Let kings no more with gentle mercy sway,
Or bless a people willing to obey ;
But crush the nations with an iron rod,
And every monarch be the scourge of God. Pope.
SCOUT, n. s. & v. n. Fr. escout, from escou-
ter ; Lat. auscultare, to listen ; Ital. scolta. One
who is sent privily to observe the motions of
the enemy : to go out in this way.
Oft on the bordering deep
Encamp their legions ; or with obscure wing
Scout far and wide into the realm of night,
Scorning surprise. MUton.
SCOWL, v. n. & n. s. Sax. j-cyhan, to squint;
Isl. skeeta sig, to look sour. To frown ; pout ;
look angry, or sullen : a look of this kind ;
gloom.
I've seen the morning's lovely raj
Hover o'er the new-born day
With rosy wings so richly bright,
As if he scorned to think of night ;
When a ruddy storm, whose scowl
Made heaven's radiant face look foul,
Called for an untimely night,
To blot the newly-blossomed light. Crashata.
SCRAB'BLE, v. n. Belg. hrubbelen, scraffe-
Un, to scrape or scratch ; Dan. scrabble. To paw
with the hands.
He feigned himself mad in their hands, and scrab-
bled on the doors of the gate. 1 Samuel xxi. 13.
SCRAGG, n. s. ) Belg. scraghe. Any thing
SCRAO'GY, adj. J thin or lean : the adjective
corresponding.
From a scraggy rock, whose prominence
Half overshades the ocean, hardy men,
Fearless of rending winds and dashing waves,
Cut samphire. Philips.
SCRAM'BLE, v. n. The same with SCRAB-
BLE, says Johnson. A frequent, of Goth, kranut,
Dan. yranie, the hand. — Thomson. To catch
at any thing eagerly and tumultuously with the
hands ; to catch with haste preventive of ano-
ther ; to contend tumultuously which shall catch
any thing.
Of other care they little reckoning make,
Than how to tcramble at the shearer's feast,
And shove away the worthy bidden guest. Milton.
SCRAN'NEL, adj. [Of this word I know
not the etymology, nor any other example. —
Johnson.] Swed. skrerue. — Thomson. Vile;
worthless. Perhaps grating by the sound.
When they list, their lean and flashy songs
Grate on their scrannel pipes of wretched straw.
Milton.
SCRAP, n. s. From scrape, a thing scraped
or rubbed off; a -small particle or piece; a frag-
ment ; crumb ; small piece of paper.
SCRAPE, v. a. & n. $. Sax. j-crieopan ; Belg.
schrapen ; apparently from Gr. ypa^w. To de-
prive of the surface by the light action of a sharp
instrument ; pare even ; in a low sense, a diffi-
culty ; perplexity : a scraper is gin instrument
for cleansing by scraping shoes : also a miser
and a vile fiddler.
The chiming clocks to dinner call ;
A hundred footsteps tcre.pt the marble hall. Pope. ,
SCRATCH, v. a. &rz.*. Belg. kratzer. To
tear or mark with slight ragged incision!* : a
mark thus made.
SCR
I should have scraiched out your unseeing eyes.
To make my master out of love with thee.
Shaktpeare.
I had rather hear my dog bark at a crow, than a
man swear he loves me. — Keep your ladyship still in
that mind ; so some gentleman or other shall 'scape
a predestinate scratcht face. Id.
Heaven forbid a shallow scratch should dtive
The prince of Wales from such a field as this.
Id. Henry IV.
Francis Cornfield did scratch his elbow, when he
nad sweetly invented to signify his name St. Francis,
with a friary cowl in a cora field. Camden.
Or if too hard and deep
This learning be for a scratch'd name to teach
It as a given death's-head keep,
Lovers' mortality to preach,
Or think this ragged bony name to be
My ruinous_anatomy. Donne.
Scots are like witches : do but whet your pen,
Scratch till the blood come, they'll not hurt you then.
Cleaveland.
To wish that there were nothing but such dull
tame things in the world, that will neither bite nor
scratch, is as childish as to wish there were no fire
in nature. More.
The lab'ring swain
Scratched with a rake a furrow for his grain,
And covered with his hand the shallow seed again.
Dry den.
Unhand me, or I'll scratch your face ;
Let go, for shame. Id.
The coarse file cuts deep, and makes deep scratches
in the work ; and, before you can take out those deep
scratches with your finer cut files, those places where
the risings were when your work was forged, may
become dents to your hammer dents.
Moxons Mechanical Exercises.
A sort of small sand-colored stones, so hard as to
scratch glass. Crew's Museum.
These nails with scratches shall deform my breast,
Lest by my look and color be expressed
The mark of aught high-born, or ever better dressed.
Prior.
The smaller the particles of those substances are,
the smaller will be the scratches by which they conti-
nually fret and wear away the glass until it be po-
lished ; but be they never so small, they can wear
away the glass no otherwise than by grating and
tcratehing it, and breaking the protuberances ; and
therefore polish it no otherwise than by bringing its
roughness to a very fine grain, so that the scratches
and frettings of the surface become too small to be
visible. Newton't Opticks.
Other mechanical helps AreUcus uses to procure
sleep, particularly the scratching of the temples and
the ears. Arbuthnot.
Be mindful, when invention fails,
To scratch your head, and bite your nails. Swift.
If any of their labourers can scratch out a pam •
phlet, they desire no wit, stile, or argument. Id.
SCRATCH-PANS, in the English salt-works.
See SALT. Their use is to receive a selenitic
matter, known by the name of soft scratch,
which falls during the evaporation of the salt
water.
SCRAVV, n. s. Irish and Erse. Surface or
scurf.
Neither should that odious custom be allowed, oi
cutting scraws, which is flaying ofT the green surface
of the ground, to cover their cabins, or make up
their ditches. Su-ifi.
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SCRAWL, v. a., v. n., Sc n. s. [I suppose to be
corrupted from scrabble. — Johnson.] To draw
or mark irregularly or clumsily : to write thus ; the
writing itself.
The left hand will make such a scrawl, that it will
not be legible. Arbuthnot's H. of John Bull.
Mr. Wycherly hearing from me how welcome his
letters would be, writ to you, in which I inserted my
scrawl. Pope.
Peruse my leaves through ev'ry part,
And think thou seest its owner's heart,
Scrawled o'er with trifles thus, and quite
As hard, as senseless, and as light. Steift.
Think not your verses sterling,
Though with a golden pen you scrawl,
And scribble in a berlin. Id.
SCREAM, v. n. & n.s. Sax. prieman. To
cry out shrilly, as in terror or agony ; the cry
made.
I heard the owl scream, and the crickets cry.
Shakspeare.
Our chimnies were blown down ; and, as they say,
Lamentings heard in the air, strange screams of
death. Id.
The fearful matrons raise a screaming cry,
Old feeble men with fainter groans reply ;
A jarring sound results, and mingles in the sky.
Dry den.
Then flashed the livid lightning from her eyes,
And screams of horror rend the affrighted skies.
Pope.
If chance a mouse creeps in her sight,
Can finely counterfeit a fright ;
So sweetly screams, if it comes near her,
She ravishes all hearts to hear her. Swift.
SCREAMER^ in zoology. See PALAMEDEA.
SCREECH, v. n. &w.s. ^ Tslan. skr<ekia,io
SCREECH-OWL, n.s. S cry. To cry out
as in terror or anguish ; the cry : the screech-
owl is noted for a cry of this kind.
Deep night,
The time of night when Troy was set on fire,
The time when screechowls cry, and bandogs howl.
Shakspeare.
Screeching is an appetite of expelling that which
suddenly strikes the spirits. Bacon.
By the screeckowl's dismal note,
By the black night-raven's throat,
I charge thee, Hob. Drayton.
Jupiter, though he had jogged the balance to weigh
down Turnus, sent the screechawl to discourage him.
Dry den.
Sooner shall screechowls bask in sunny day,
Than I forget my shepherd's wonted love. Gay.
The birds obscene, that nightly flocked to taste
With hollow screeches fled from the dire repast ;
And ravenous dogs, allured by scented blood,
And starving wolves, ran howling to the wood.
Pope.
SCREEN, n. s. Fr. escran. Any thing that
affords shelter or concealment ; a sieve.
Now near enough : your leavy screens throw
down,
And show like those you are. Shakspeare. Macbeth.
Some- ambitious meri seem as screens to princes in
matters of danger and envy. Bacon.
When there is a screen between the candle and
the eye, yet the light passeth to the paper whereon
one writeth. Id.
Back'd with a ridge of hills,
That screened the fruits of the earth, and seats of
men,
From cold Septentrion blasts.
.Villon** Paradise Regained.
A good magitsrate's retinue of state screens him
from the dangers which he is to incur for the sake of
lt- Atterlwry.
This gentle deed shall fairly be set foremost,
To screen the wild escapes of lawless passion.
Rowe.
Our people, who transport themselves, are settled
in those interjacent tracts, as a screen against the in-
sults of the savages. Swift.
One speaks the glory of the British queen,
And one describes a charming Indian screen. Pope.
SCREW, n. s. Fr. escrow ; Belg. scroeve.
One of the mechanical powers, of which there
are two kinds, the male and female ; the former
being cut convex, so that its threads rise out-
wards ; the latter channelled on its concave side,
so as to receive the former. See below. To
turn, or move, or fasten, by a screw ; deform ;
oppress.
We fail !
But screw your courage to the sticking place,
And we'll not fail. Shakspeare. Macbeth.
The screw is a kind'of wedge, that is multiplied
or continued by a helical revolution about a cylinder,
receiving its motion not from any stroke, but from a
vectisat one end of it. Wilkins's Mathematical Magick.
Sometimes a violent laughter screwed his face,
And sometimes ready tears dropped down apace.
Cowleif.
He resolved to govern by subaltern ministers, who
screwed up the pins of power too high.
Howel's Vocal Forest.
He screwed his face in to a hardened smile,
And said, Sebastian knew to govern slaves.
Dryden.
After your apples are ground, commit them to the
tcre& press, which is the best.
Mortimer's Husbandry.
To screw your lock on the door, make wide holes,
big enough to receive the shank of the screw.
Moron.
Some, when the press, by utmost vigour screw'd,
Has drained the pulpous mass, regale their swine
With the dry refuse. Philips.
With screwed face, and doleful whine, they ply
you with senseless harangues against human inven-
tions on the one hand, and loud outcries for a further
reformation on the other. South.
No discourse can be, but they will try to turn
the tide, and draw it all into their own channel ; or
they will screw in here and there some intimations
of what they said or did. Government of the Tongue.
Let others screw their hypocritic face,
She shews her grief in a sincerer place. Swift.
Our country landlords, by unmeasurable screwing,
and racking their tenants, have already reduced the
miserable people to a worse condition than the pea-
sants in France. Id.
Ask him, if your knotted scourges,
Matches, blood-extorting screws,
Are the means that duty urges
Agents of his will to use? Cotrper.
SCREW. The general principles on which this
instrument is constructed will be found detailed
under our article MECHANICS, and we have now
to examine the theory of the screw in connexion
with its application to the useful arts.
The screw may be considered as composed
of the lever and the inclined plane ; as will be
evident from a more minute account of the man-
ner in which it may be conceived to be generated.
If an isosceles triangle B F G turn about the axis
A Z (plate SCREW, fig. 1), there will be generated
585
SCREW.
by that revolution two conic frustums united by
their greater ends ; conceive now that, besides
the motion of rotation, this triangle has also a
motion of translation in the direction of the axis
A Z, so regulatedthat, while the triangle makes a
complete revolution, the point B is moved to G,
and the whole triangle is found in the position
G F G', and so on : the solid thus generated is
called the interior screw ; and the height G B is
called the distance of the threads. The exterior
screw is so adapted to the other as if it were its
mould ; and is nothing else than the solid gene-
rated by the polygon H G F B C, supposing it
to partake of the same motions as the triangle
BGF. For the sake of distinction we shall
apply the name spindle to the interior screw,
calling the exterior one only the screw. The
spindle then is a cylinder invested with a spiral
band of uniform thickness, and of which the
inclination with respect to the axis of the cylinder
is constant : the screw, on the contrary, is a solid
having a correspondent spiral hollow. In some
cases the spindle is fixed in a solid block, as
A B, fig. 2, while the screw E is moved upon it
by means of a lever DC. At other times the
screw is fixed and the spindle moveable ; but this
causes no difference in the theory.
The curve which any one of the points of the
generating polygon, as N for instance, describes
about A Z, is obviously traced on the surface of
a right cylinder whose axis is A Z, and radius of
its base E N (fig. 3). If we develope this, then
d c (fig. 4), being the circumference which has
EN for its radius, and taking the perpendicular
be equal to the distance between two contiguous
threads, the hypothenusal line d b will be the
development of an entire revolution of the
point N. In effect, the helix being throughout
of constant inclination with respect to any posi-
tion whatever of the generating line of the cylin-
der, every parallel to A D will make with the
development of that curve the same angle ; thus,
the development will be a right line, as d b ; and
in like manner the right line a /'will be the de-
velopment of a second revolution. This being
granted, we may demonstrate, in a very satisfac-
tory manner, the truth of the following proposi-
tion : —
There will be an equilibrium in the screw
when the power is to the resistance as the dis-
tance between two contiguous threads in a di-
rection parallel to the axis is to the circumference
described by the power.
Let us suppose the spindle A B to be fixed
(fig. 2), and that the screw is moveable by the
aid of a power P applied to the extremity C of
a lever C E— R, acting horizontally perpendicu-
lar to the lever. Let W be the weight of the
screw, or that which the screw supports, or the
resistance opposed by the screw to the power P.
If the screw pressed only on one of the points
of the spindle, suppose it to be at the distance r
from the axis, and that its position on the deve-
lopment d b of the spiral be at n ; then will the
pressure on the spindle be exactly the same as
on the inclined plane d b. From the theory the
power M, which we suppose applied horizon-
tally in the direction M n, must retain the equi-
librium. We may thus illustrate this proportion :
cb
M : W : : c b : c d ; whence Mi=\V. _— W. — —
cd 2 v r
where h~bc, and ?r~3'141593, as heretofore.
The force M, which is supposed applied in w,
when the helix is not developed is perpendicular
to the edge of the cylinder, or acts in a tangen-
tial direction to the cylinder, and in consequence
always parallel to the power P.
Now, substituting for this subsidiary power M
the power P, acting at the distance R, we have
from the principles of the lever P R— M r, the
lengths of the arms being R and r. For M, in
this equation, substitute its value in the former
one, and there arises 2 TT R P— W h. This equation,
not containing r, is entirely independent of the
distance at which the point n is supposed from
the axis ; it will therefore be the same if we sup-
pose that point any where else on the spindle.
Hence we deduce a general result; for this equa-
tion will even be true, if the screw, instead of
touching the spindle in a single point, as we have
hitherto supposed, touch it in any number of
points whatever. In this latter case, every point
on the thread of the spindle bears a portion of
the weight W ; these portions being denoted by
W, \V", W", &c., give \V'+ \V"+ \\ "', &:c.— W.
But, on the other hand, the force P, which sup-
ports the weight of the screw, may be considered
as the sum of as many forces P', P", P'", &c., as
there are points of contact, each of which is em-
ployed in supporting the weights W', W", \V",
&c. To each of these the last equation applies ;
we have", therefore, W h— 2 -IT R P', \\" h =r 2 w
R P", W" h — 2 ;r R P'", &c., their sum mani-
festly producing the equation \V A — 2 TT R P ;
whence P : W : : A : 2 *• R. Q. E. D.
If the screw had a square or rectangular fillet
instead of a triangular one, the conclusion would
be the same ; for it is independent of the form of
the generating polygon.
In the same screw the effect is always the
greater as the power is applied farther from the
axis.
In two different screws, a force acting with the
same distance of lever produces a greater effect
in proportion as the threads of the screw are
nearer together.
In the endless or perpetual ^crew BC (fig. 5),
which drives the teeth of the wheel F D, we shall,
in the case of an equilibrium, have P x A B x
rad. of F D iz W x distance of threads x rad.
of axle. For the perpetual screw is a combina-
tion of the axis in peritrochio and the screw.
The screw may be used to measure minute
distances; for its point advances through 1 while
the radius by which it is turned describes 360°.
Instruments for this purpose are named micro-
meters ; their principal part is a fine and accu-
rate screw which carries a frame, across which a
fine wire is stretched at right angles to the axis
of a telescope or microscope, and in the plane of
its principal image; by turning the screw the
wire moves parallel to itself, and its distance
from a parallel fixed wire is the magnitude of the
portion of the image included between them;
and from this we draw the magnitude of the ob-
ject. This distance is indicated by a circular
head on the screw which is graduated; thus, if
the interval be TJg of an inch, and the circum-
SCREW.
587
ference of the head three inches, divided into
sixty parts for every one of these which passes
an index, the wire moves through ^ of an inch.
Smeaton asserts that lie had used a scresv which
agreed with itself to j^. The posver of the
screw in producing pressure depends on the fine-
ness of its thread, and this is limited by the
strength of materials ; as, if too fine, it would be
broken from the cylinder, and on the other hand
micrometer screws cannot be made beyond a
certain interval. The endless screw is supposed to
l>e the engine by which the geometer of Syracuse
launched by his single strength one of Hieoro's
•.allies, when challenged by that sovereign to
give a specimen of the use of mechanics.
In the Philosophical Transactions, vol. Ixxi.,
a new method of applying the screw, so as to
make it act with the greatest accuracy, is de-
scribed by Mr. Hunter. This method depends
upon these general principles, applicable to most
machines: 1. That the strength of the several
parts of the engine be adjusted in such a man-
ner, to the force they are intended to exert, that
they shall not break under the weight they ought
to counteract, nor yet encumber the motion by a
greater quantity of matter than is necessary to
give them a suitable degree of strength. 2. That
the increase of power by means of the machine
be so regulated that, while the force is thereby
rendered adequate to the effect, it may not be re-
tarded in procuring it more than is absolutely
necessary. 3. That the machine be as simple
as is consistent with other conditions. 4. That
it be as portable, and as little troublesome as
oossible in its application. 5. That the moving
~ower be applied in such a manner as to act to
.he greatest advantage ; and that the motion ul-
timately produced may have that direction and
velocity which is most adapted to the execution
of the ultimate design of the machine. 6. Of
two machines, equal in other respects, that de-
serves the preference in which the friction least
diminishes the effect proposed by the whole.
To attain all these advantages in any one ma-
chine is perhaps impossible ; but Mr. Hunter's
method of applying the screw certainly combines
a great portion of them. Let A B (fig. 6) be a
plate of metal in which the screw C D plays,
having a certain number of threads in an inch,
suppose ten. Within the screw C D there is an
exterior screw which receives the smaller screw
D E of eleven threads in an inch. This screw
is kept from moving about with the former by
means of the apparatus at A F G B. If the handle
C K Lbe turned ten times round, the screw C D
will advance an inch upwards ; and, if we sup-
pose the screw D E to move round along with
C D, the point E will advance an inch. If we
now turn the screw D E ten times backward, the
point E will move downwards $ of an inch, and
the result of both motions will be to lift the
point E an eleventh of an inch upwards. But
if, while the screw C D is turned ten times round,
I) E be kept from moving, the effect will be the
same as if it had moved ten times round with
C D, and been turned back again ten times ;
that is, it will advance |j of an inch. At one
turn, therefore, it will advance ^ of ^zr Tt0 of
an inch. If now the handle be six inches long,
the power to produce an equilibrium must be to
the weight as 1 to 110 X 6 X 2 ir — 4146'912.
Thus, the force of Mr. Hunter's screw is greatly
superior to the common one ; for a common one
with a six inch handle must have 110 threads in
an inch to produce the same effect, and this great
number of threads would render it too weak to
resist any considerable violence.
With regard to the second general maxim, both
kinds of screws are equally applicable ; only that
the more complicated structure, and conse-
quently greater expense of Mr. Hunter's screw,
renders it convenient to use the common screw
where only a small increase of power is requi-
site, and the improved one where a great power
is wanted. The handle being short makes this
machine accord with the fourth maxim.
To answer the fifth both seem equally proper ;
but, for the sixth, the preference must be given
to such as best answer the specific purpose pro-
posed. Thus, if the screw D E be designed to
carry an index which must turn round at the
same time that it rises upward, the common
screw seems preferable ; though Mr. Hunter pro-
poses a method by which his may answer the
same purpose : with this view a still smaller
screw ought to play within D E, and be con-
nected with CD, so as to move round along
with it. It must have, according to the fore-
going proportions, 111 threads in an inch: and
they must lie in a contrary direction to those of
C D ; so tnat when they are both turned together,
and C D moves upwards, this other may move
downwards. At one turn this will move up-
wards isjroth part of an inch, and at the same
time will move in a circular direction. Similar
methods may be applied in many other cases :
indeed they have lately been applied very fre-
quently ; though few of those who have adopted
them have acknowledged by whom they were
first proposed ; on which account we have given
this brief description of Mr. Hunter's contrivance,
and of his judicious practical maxims.
Mr. Walsh has invented a mode of cutting
screws by means of a very simple apparatus in-
dependent of the guide and slide-rest usually
employed for that purpose. The process may be
thus described : — The first step is to turn a short
cylinder of soft steel exactly twice the diameter
of the intended screw. This is then to be fitted
on an arbor in the lathe ; and, by means of a
common screw-stool of the required number of
teeth, is to be cut into a double-threaded screw,
and is then to be hardened : of this latter screw
bb, fig. 7, represents a lateral and front view.
Another short cylinder of soft steel is then to be
made of exactly the diameter of the intended
screw ; it is then to be fitted on a pin and put
into the frame d; in this situation it is to be
pressed against the cylinder b, while revolving
in the lathe, until a good thread is raided on its
surface. The thread thus formed will be a
single one, although taken from a double thread,
because, during the process, it revolves in pro-
portion to the larger cylinder as one to two, it
will also be a left-handed thread, because taken
by impression from a right-handed one. After
a few revolutions from the cylinder c the frame
in which it is placed is to be turned upside
588
SCREW.
down, and the same number of revolutions are to
be made with the frame in this position, by
which alteration the thread will be kept quite
perpendicular to its axis, and the more the two
cylinders are worked together the more will the
cylinder c be free from errors of the first cylinder.
Being completed it is then to be hardened, and is
again to be put into the frame d. The cylinder
a a being put into a lathe, the screw c is to be
pressed hard against it in the manner of a mil-
ling-tool, beginning on the right hand : when it
has made a sufficient impression, or thread, it is to
be shifted one thread towards the left hand, the fol-
lowing threads of the screw always working in the
preceding impression, which serves as their guide.
This is to be continued till the whole cylinder is
impressed with the spiral thread, which will of
course be right-handed, because the impressing
screw is left-handed. The thread thus obtained
is to be eased or cut deeper by the pointed tool
e, and is then to be finished by the screw c, tak-
ing care, as before directed, to reverse the frame
d from time to time. To make a left-handed
screw to suit a given right-handed one, tap a cy-
linder qf steel in the same dies and of the same
diameter as the given screw, and turn each end
down to a pivot and harden it; place it in the
open frame d, and work it hard against the pre-
pared cylinder exactly as described above for the
original screw, by which a left-handed thread
will be obtained, which is to be deepened with the
point tool, and finished by the roller as before.
When this screw is obtained it may be hardened,
and left-handed dies may be made from it.
A very ingenious patent process for making
screws, by Mr. Colbert, must now be described :
* Fig. 1 1 is a side view of the apparatus ; a a a
is the lower piece of a pair of cutting shears;
this is fixed to a work bench or other solid
frame ; the upper part b b works on a centre d,
by the handle c ; ee is the face of a plate used
to regulate the lengths of wire to be cut, adjusti-
ble by apparatus shown in fig. 12.
' Fig. 12 is a perpendicular geometrical view
of the same, in which the same letters of refe-
rence are affixed respectively to the same parts ;
ee is the upper edge of the plate e e, and gg an
horizontal face of the same plate; this plate is
adjustible as to its distance from the cutters a
and 6, by a sliding motion on the two bars h, h,
on sockets i, t ; to cut the wires he elevated the
upper arm b, of the shears, and introduced the
wires horizontally, and at right angles to the face
of the shears, and as far between the cutters as
the vertical plate e e will allow : the patentee
then works the shears in the usual manner of
shears, and similar cutting .instruments ; the re-
quired length of the wires being cut, they are
placed between the cheeks of a vice.
'Fig. 13 is a groove or cavity of suitable dimen-
sions to the size required, and, the cheeks of the
vice being closed, the head of the intended screw
is formed by the spread ing of the metal by strokes
of a hammer ; and the solid form of the intended
screw thus obtained. There remained the thread
to be cut on the cylinder of the length, and the
nick or cut to be made across the head; the
thread is cut, and head of the screw turned
•eady for the making of the nick or rut bv the
machinery represented in fi^s. 14, 15, 16, 17;
a tid is a steel axis, working in supports or up-
rights, b, r , (/, on a frame DD; at the extremity
e of the axis, a piece crosses k at right angles,
to which is affixed by screws and nuts the two
bent arms ff, ff, which move on the screws
g, g, as centres ; each is furnished with a strong
spring h, which bears against the axis, and
presses the corresponding extremity i strongly
towards each other : in each of these extremities
i, i, is fixed, by dovetailed slides and screws, a
steel cutter k ; m is a conical tube, which may
be moved forward along the axis a a a (towards
the end to which the bent arms f,f, are fixed),
for the purpose hereinafter described, to cut the
thread of the screw and turn the head of it. The
patentee places the piece of wire of which the
screw is intended to be made, between the hold-
ing pieces_/,y, the head of the intended screw
between and just within the extremities of the
two cutters k, k, as shown in fig. 15.
' The fig. 16 represents a side elevation of a
metal frame of two parts a and b, opening from
each other on the joint at c, by the handle or
stem d, the upper or movable piece a, moving
between two cheek pieces, of which one is seen
at e ; into each of these pieces a and b, and in a
direction at right angles to their length, is placed
in dovetailed grooves, and there secured by
screws, a steel cutter having teeth, or being ser-
rated in the usual way, for the purpose of cut-
ting a screw thread on a metal cylinder intro-
duced between them; these pieces are shown in
the figure at g and h, and they are sufficiently
held together for that purpose, by the action of
the lever and weight shown in the figure at m
and n. This part of the machinery is placed
when in use in a direction at right angles to the
direction of the piece shown at fig. 14. The
cutters g and h, being directly opposite to the
extremity of the cutters k, k, of the fig. 14, and
within a small distance of it, so that the wire
introduced and held by one extremity by the
cutters fr, k, may by the other extremity intro-
duce itself between the serrated or toothed cut-
ters g, A, of fig. 16. The position herein described
for the piece represented in fig. 16 is shown in
the engraving of fig. 14, at X, Y, Z, which repre-
sents a perpendicular geometrical view of the
same ; the same parts of it being respectively
marked with the same letters of reference as in
the side elevation of the same piece shown at
fig. 16.
' The patentee thus gives motion to the ma-
chinery : the fig. 1 7 is a front elevation of the
upright piece d, of fig. 14, showing an aperture
O, a thin steel edge piece Z Z, moveable on a
centre r. It has a suspended weight W, at a
little distance beyond the centre, and a treadle
S affixed to the other extremity. A steel screw
R is fixed to the extremity of the axis a a, fig.
14, and secured by a small screw T; this screw
R passes through the aperture O, of fig. 14,
without touching it ; when the treadle is not
pressed, the steel edge Z Z remains clear of tho
screw R ; but, when the treadle is pressed, the
steel edge is forced to enter one of the threads
of the screw R : this being done, and the axis
a a made to revolve l>y the box BB, or any
S C R £ W.
589
other well known method of turning an axis, the
axis, being cylindrical through its whole length,
will, by the action of the screw R on the fixed
edge Z, make a forward progress, viz. towards
that part of the machinery marked xyz, and the
rate of that progressive advance will be always
regulated and beadjustible by the fineness of the
screw R ; if the screw R be coarser, the pro-
gress will be quicker, and vice versa; for this
purpose of regulation and adjustment, the screw
It may be changed at pleasure ; the aforesaid
progressive advance of the axis a a will thus
force the wire, placed as already described at
A k, into the small space between the screw cut-
ters g ht of fig. 16, and v.-ill thus produce the
thread of the screw. The conical piece m is
now moved forward over the bent arms J\j,f,f,
so as by means of the rollers g,g, and the springs
h ,//, the extremities i, i, are separated a little,
and with them the cutters k, k ; the new screw,
which was before held by the cutters k, k, is thus
released from them, and is now held between
the screw cutters g and h, of fig. 16, but is still
at liberty to turn on its thread; a pressure on
the handle t, such as to bring the screw A-, fig.
15, to bear on the spring x, will hold the screw
more firmly so that it cannot be turned ; and
now if the conical piece m be moved back on
the axis a a, to its former situation, so that the
cutters k, k, may again approach each other ; the
axis a a is then caused to revolve, on which the
cutters k, k, turn, and forms the bevel of the head
of the screw ; Mr. Colbert then slides the conical
piece a little distance over the bent arms f,f,J',f,
as before, so as to detach the cutters k k from the
screw ; and releases the pressure on the treadle
S, of fig. 17, and thus causes the steel edge Z to
leave the thread of the screw R, fig. 14. The
patentee then causes the axis a a to revolve, and
the small cutter marked at the extremity of the
axis will turn the flat surface of the head of the
screw. The screw is now completed except the
nick or cut in the head. By means of the handle
t, of the piece xyz, the workman afterwards
moves the upper part of the said piece on its
lower part by the joint or centre at C, fig. 16,
and then lifts the axis a a a little way upwards,
by that extremity of it which has the cutters fixed
to it, and the screw, so far formed as described,
will drop out and clear of the machinery ; the
axis a a, fig. 14, may be lifted as described, by
means of a contrivance shown in fig. 18, in
which figure 6 is a front elevation of the upright
piece also marked b, in fig. 14; in this upright
the part of it in which is the aperture y, through
which the axis passes, has a sliding motion up
or down, sufficient to allow the lifting of the
axis as described.
' Fig. 19 is a geometrical plan of a rectangu-
lar box or frame, of which A B C D is the lower
part, and E, E, two lids or covers, which are in
this figure shown as opened and thrown back to
show the interior of the frame; the pieces G G,
and M M, form a channel or groove, in which
may be introduced the metal slide 1 1, which
passes on through the whole length of the frame;
it passes under the projections of the screw
heads h,h,h,k, which thus confine it to its in-
tended place ; the plate 1 1 is perforated, as
shown in the engraving, to receive the screws
on which the machine is intended to operate ;
they are placed in it as shown at fig. 20, in
which 1 1 represents a part of the slide, and SS
the heads of screws placed in it. The plate 1 1
being passed entirely into the frame, as far as the
projecting pin k allows, the unfinished screws
are placed in it, and the covers E, E, are shut
down and fastened. The covers E, E, when they
are shut down, do not quite meet, but leave a
narrow open space through which the blade of a
steel saw is introduced, and with which the
heads of all the screws placed in the machine
have their nicks or cuts made at the same time.
The following observations published by a
' workman' in the Repertory of Arts are of
great importance : — ' Having had considerable
experience in the construction of new and com-
plicated machinery, and knowing of no method
by which minute and accurate movements or di-
visions may be obtained with such certainty as
by means of the screw, it has not unfrequently
been the most trying part of my labors to obtain
a screw that shall be tolerably accurate through-
out, when it has been required of any consider-
able length. The tapping of screws with new
and sharp dies, and great care and slowness, is
undoubtedly one of the best, if not absolutely
the best method of making a good and true
screw. But it is found that, when a stock is
worked by hand, there is generally a stopping
place perceptible on the screw itself, where the
workman changes hands, which is most probably
the chief imperfection that produces inaccuracy
when such screws are set to subdivide their own
threads. If one handle be more depressed than
the other, the screw will have a periodical varia-
tion of obliquity, which workmen call a drunken
screw, and it is difficult to avoid this error where
the screw is short. As the dies at best cut ra-
ther by the force of the setting screws than the
keenness of their own edge, they not only bend
the tap or screw, but scarcely ever take equally
off from all sides. The best remedy for this is
to use long dies ; but, even with these, a centred
and turned tap will seldom prove straight and
round after it has received the thread. In mi-
nutely considering the action of the dies it will be
seen that the opposite sides of the thread in-
cline towards different regions, and therefore, in
effect, cross each other. Hence it is impossible
for the dies to be made to approach each other
in the plane of the helix. (A tangental plane to
the helix, having a vertical axis, will in fact re-
volve round the axis itself, preserving a constant
angular inclination to the same.) But the dies
approach in a plane at right angles to the axis.
It follows, therefore, that there are limits to dia-
meter, depth of cut, and inclination, beyond
which the dies cannot operate. These limits are
the cause why a true flat thread screw cannot be
cut in dies ; and a many-threaded screw, or
screw of great obliquity, in a single pair of dies,
is impracticable, and can only be cut by a suc-
cession of different pairs of dies. If dies arc
not well fitted in the stock, and the stuff be veiny
or unequally hard, they will yield to the hard
parts, and by the effect of this shake produce
an undulated thread. Long dies do indeed
SCR
590
SCR
greatly remedy this imperfection ; but it must
always exist, however small. As a pair of well
fixed dies tan never both run alonu: the same
stroke till quite home to their natural place, the
cut made by the one will tend to draw the other
along the cylinder, so that while one die cuts the
upper side of the thread, the other die will cut
the opposite or under side. In this cross action
the frame and the dies themselves will yield from
elasticity, and that the more, where the stuff is
most hard or the work forced. Hence, with a
like pressure, the soft side will have the widest
cut, and be soonest cut down, and the sides of
the thread will be waving. This seems to be
the chief reason why tapping a screw throws it
out of centre and roundness. It is found by ex-
perience, in the attempt to tap a screw much
larger than the original of the dies, that the cor-
ners of the dies, taking hold first, are nearly in-
different as to the run; and, if left to ope-
rate without pressure in the line of the axis,
would as probably cut mere rings, or a left-
handed screw, as the right-handed screw (sup-
posed to be in the dies). In these circumstances,
therefore, the thread at first turns out to be
wavey, with very little rise in the run of each
corner, until it suddenly falls into the cut made
by the corner it follows. Each turn consists ac-
cordingly of four waves, which are amended as
the dies sink deeper, and are led by their own
slope. But it may be questioned if these waves,
once produced, are ever completely removed, so
that the screw probably approximates to the
truth, without ever attaining it. And, in the na-
ture of the operation of tapping, this error in
the first instance can only be diminished, but
not absolutely removed, because all cutting is
begun by the corner of the dies.'
Eddy's screw-wrench. — This screw wrench is ac-
tuated by a screw, as that is which is in common
use, but differs from this latter in the screw being
introduced into the sliding part instead of into
the handle. By this arrangement the instrument
is rendered much stronger, and is not liable to
open and shut by the turn of the hand while
using it, as is the case with the common one.
In manufactories where the work is heavy, the
common wrench is often breaking in the screw,
an accident which cannot occur with the new
one, as the strain is not on that part which con-
tains the screw. It may be made at nearly the
same expense as the one in common use.
Plate SCREW, fig. 8, is a side view. Fig. 9 is
an edge view. Fig 10 is a longitudinal section.
[The same letters refer to the same parts in all
the figures.] a is the fixed chap, 6 is the fixed
bar, c is the moveable chap which passes through
and slides upon the bar, 6 ; d the moveable bar
fixed to the chap c. This bar has a hollow bar-
rel screwed at its orifice, in which the solid
thumb-screw /works. At the extremity of the
bar, 6, is formed a shoulder, on which rests the
square piece, g ; or the bar may be turned up
at right angles, forming a short projecting leg,
which will answer the purpose of the piece g,
and will be both stronger and cheaper. A
square hole is to be made in g, to admit the
screw f, and this hole is to be contracted in one
part by the insertion of two square pins, i and /•
which confine the neck of the screw so as to
allow it to turn round, but not to move back-
wards or forwards : e is a plate of iron, wrapped
round the end of the instrument in order to keep
the parts in their proper places, and to prevent
the screws from being choked with dirt. Hence
it is obvious that, when the screw f is turned
in one direction, the barrel d, with' the chap e,
is pushed towards the chap a, and that it is with-
drawn when the screw is turned in the opposite
direction.
SCR I BANI (Charles), a Jesuit, born at Brus-
sels in 1561, was successively. professor and
rector of the college of his native place, but
afterwards removed to Antwerp, as provincial of
his order, and head of the university. He died
in 1629, and is chiefly known by a virulent
publication against the Calvinists, printed under
the fictitious name of Clarus Bonarscius, and
entitled Amphitheatrum Honoris Adversus Cal-
vinistas, 4to. 1606. His other works are — 1. His-
tory of the Civil Wars of the Low Countries, in
Latin, 8vo. 2. Origines Antverpensium, 4to.
3. Orthodoxae Fidei controversa, 4to. 4. Ars
Mentiendi Calvinistica. 5. Meditationes Sacrn?,
2 vols. 8vo. 6. Medicus Religiosus. 7. C'aeno-
barachia. 8. Politico Christianis.
SCRIBE, n. s. \ Fr. scribe ; Lat.
SCRIB'BLE, v. a. & n. ^scriba. A writer:
SCRIB'BLER, n. s. j scribble is a diminu-
tive of scribe.
Hearts, tongues, figures, scribes, bards, poets,
cannot
Think, speak, cast, write, sing, number, ho !
His love to Antony.
Sthakspeare. Antony and Cieopatra.
My master, being the scribe to himself, should
write the letter. ShaAspeare.
How gird the sphere
With centrick and eccentrick, scribbled o'er
Cycle and epicycle, orb in orb.
Milton'* Paradise Lost
By solemnly endeavouring to countenance my
conjectures, I might be thought dogmatical in a hasty
scribble. Boyle.
The actors represent such things as they are capa-
ble, by which they and the scribbler may get their
living. Dryden.
The most copious writers are the arrantest scrib-
bler*, and in so much talking the tongue runs before
the wit. L'Ettrange.
\Ve are not to wonder, if he thinks not fit to
make any perfect and unerring scribes.
Grew't Cosmologia.
The following letter comes from some notable
young female scribe. Spectator.
The fcribbler, pinched with hunger, writes to dine,
And to your genius must conform his line.
Granville.
If a man should affirm that an ape, casually
meeting with pen, ink, and paper, and falling to
tcribble, did happen to write exactly the Leviathan
of Hobbes, would an atheist believe such a story 1
And yet he can easily digest things as incredible as
that. Bentlty.
If Mxvius tcribble in Apollo's spite,
There are who judge still worse than he can write.
Pope.
Nobody was concerned or surprised, if this or
that scribbler was proved a dunce.
Letter to Pope's Dundud.
SCRIPTURE.
59J
If it struck the present taste, it was soon trans-
ferred into the plays and current scribbles of the
week, and became an addition to our language.
Stoift.
To affirm he had cause to apprehend the same
treatment with his father is an improbable scandal
flung upon the nation by a few bigotted French
scribblers. Id.
His court, the dissolute and hateful school
Of Wantonness, where vice was taught by rule,
Swarmed with a scribbliny herd, as deep inlaid
With brutal lust as ever Circe made.
From these a long succession, in a rage
Of rank obscenity, debauched their age. Cowper.
SCRI'MER, n. s. Fr. escrimeur. A gladia-
tor; a fencing-master. Not in use.
The scrimers of their nation,
He swore, had neither motion, guard, nor eye,
If you opposed them. Shakspeare. Hamlet.
SCEINE, n. s. Lat. scrmium. A place in
which writings or curiosities are reposited.
Help, then, O holy virgin,
Thy weaker novice to perform thy will ;
Lay forth out of thine everlasting scrine,
The antique rolls which there lie hidden still.
Faerie Queene.
SCRIP, n. s. Isl. skrappa. A small bag; a
satchel : and (Lat. scriptio) a small writing.
Come, shepherd, let us make an honourable re-
treat ; though not with bag and baggage, yet with
scrip and scrippage. Shaksjteare.
Call them man by man, according to the scrip. Id.
He'd in requital ope his leathern tcrip,
And shew me simples of a thousand names,
Telling their strange and vigorous faculties. Milton.
Bills of exchange cannot pay our debts abroad,
till scrips of paper can be made current coin. Locke.
SCRIPTURE.
SCRIPTURE, n. s. \ Lat. scriptura. Writ-
SCRIP'TURAL, adj. S ing ', particularly sa-
cred writings ; the Bible : commonly used in the
plural : the adjective signifies contained in the
Bible; biblical.
With us there is never any time bestowed in
divine service, without the reading of a great part
of the holy scripture, which we account a thing
most necessary. Hooker.
The devil can cite scripture for his purpose :
An evil soul producing holy witness
Is like a villain with a smiling chock. Shakspeare.
It is not only remembered in many scriptures, but
famous for the death and overthrow of Crassus.
Raleigh.
Forbear any discourse of other spirits, till his
reading the scripture history put him upon that en-
quiry. Locke.
There is not any action which a man ought to
do, or to forbear, but the scripture will give him a
clear precept, or prohibition, for it. South.
Creatures, the scriptural use of that word deter-
mines it sometimes to men. Atterbury.
Scripture proof was never the talent of these men,
and 'tis no wonder they are foiled. Id.
Why are scripture maxims put upon us without
taking notice of scripture examples that lie cross
them •> Id.
The Author of nature and the scriptures has ex-
pressly enjoined, that he who will not work shall not
eat. Seed's Sermons.
SCRIPTURE. The word scripture is most com-
monly used to denote the writings of the Old
and New Testament ; called also sometimes The
Scriptures, sometimes the Sacred or Holy Scrip-
tures, and sometimes Canonical Scriptures.
These books are called the Scriptures by way of
eminence, as they are the most important of all
writings ; they are holy or sacred on account of
the doctrines which they teach ; and they are
termed canonical, because, when their number
and authenticity were ascertained, their names
were inserted in ecclesiastical canons, to distin-
guish them from other books ; which, being of
no authority, were kept as it were out of sight,
and therefore styled apocryphal, from
to put out of sight. See APOCRYPHA.
Our article BIBLE (to which we beg the
attention of the reader as an introduction to this)
is chiefly critical ; and regards the formation of
the Jewish and Christian canon considered as a
whole. We shall in this article enter more at
large into the question of the authenticity and
inspiration of Scripture, and an analysis of its
contents.
PART I.
OF THE OLD TESTAMENT.
INTRODUCTION.
The authenticity of the Old Testament may
be proved from the character of the Jews, from
internal evidence, and from testimony.
1. The character of the Jews forms a strong
presumptive evidence that they have not forged
or corrupted the Old Testament. Were a per-
son brought before a court of justice on a sus-
picion of forgery, and yet no presumptive or
positive evidence of his guilt could be produced,
it would be allowed by all that he ought to be
acquitted. But if the forgery alleged were in-
consistent with the character of the accused ; if
it tended to expose to disgrace and reproach
his general principles and conduct; or if we
were assured that he considered forgery as an
impious and abominable crime, it would require
very strong testimony to establish his guilt. This
case corresponds exactly with the character and
situation of the Jews. If a Jew had forged any
book of the Old Testament, he must have been
impelled to so bold and dangerous an enterprise
by some very powerful motive. It could not be
national pride ; for there is scarcely one of these
books which does not severely censure the na-
tional manners. It could not be the love of
fame ; for that passion would have taught him
to flatter and extol the national character ; and
the punishment, if detected, would have been
infamy and death. The love of wealth could
not produce such a forgery ; for no wealth was
to be gained by it. The Jews were selected from
SCRIPTURE.
all other nations, and preserved a distinct peo-
ple, from the time of their emigration from
Egypt to the Babylonish captivity, a period of
892 years ; and they still continue to be a dis-
tinct people, though scattered among all the na-
tions in the world ; which is itself a standing
and perpetual miracle in proof of Christianity,
unparalleled in the history of mankind; and
which the Christian may defy all the enemies of
revelation to account for, without admitting the
truth of the Christian system. The principal
purposes for which they were selected was to
preserve, in a world running headlong into
idolatry, the knowledge and worship of the one
true God, and to be the guardians of those sacred
books that contained the prophecies which were
to prove to future ages the divine mission of the
Redeemer of mankind. To fit them for these
important trusts, the spirit of their laws and the
rites of their religion had the strongest tendency.
Miracles were orjenly performed, to convince
them that the God of Israel was the God of all
the earth, and that he alone was to be wor-
shipped. Public calamities always befel them
when they became apostates from their God ; yet
they continued violently attached to idolatry, till
their captivity in Babylon made them' for ever
renounce it. The Jews then had two opposite
characters at different periods of their history.
At first they were addicted to idolatry ; after-
wards they acquired a strong antipathy against
it. Had any books of the Old Testament been
forged before the Babylonish captivity, when
the Jews were devoted to idolatry, is it to be
conceived that the impostor would hive in-
veighed so strongly against this vice, and so often
imputed to it the calamities of the state; since
by such conduct he knew that he would render
himself obnoxious to the people, and to those
idolatrous monarchs who persecuted the pro-
phets ? But it may be alleged that the sacred
books were forged after the Babylonish capti-
vity, when the principles of the Jews would lead
them to inveigh against the worship of idols.
But these principles would surely never lead
them to expose the character of their ancestors,
and to detail their follies and their crimes.
Never had any people more national pride, or a
higher veneration for their ancestors than the
Jews. Miracles and prophecies ceased soon
after their return to Jerusalem ; and from that
period their respect for the sacred books ap-
proached to superstition. They preserved them
with pious care, they read them often in their
synagogues, and they considered every attempt
to alter the text as an act of sacrilege. Is it
probabve that such men could be guilty of for-
gery, or could false writings be easily imposed
on them ?
2. There is internal evidence in the books of
the Old Testament that proves them to have been
written by different persons, and at distant pe-
riods ; and enables us with precision to ascertain
a time at or before which they must have been
composed. It is an undeniable fact that Hebrew
ceased to be the living language of the Jews
during their captivity in Babylon, and that the
Jewish productions after that period were in
general written either in Chaldee or in Greek.
The Jews of Palestine, some ages before the
coming of our Saviour, were unable, without the
assistance of a Chaldee paraph-ase, to understand
the Hebrew original. It necessarily follows,
therefore, that every book which is written in
pure Hebrew was composed either before o:
about the time of the Babylonish captivity. This
being admitted, we may advance a step farther,
and insist that the period which elapsed between^
the composition of the most ancient and the
most modern book of the Old Testament was
very considerable; or, in other words, that the
most ancient books of the Old Testament were
written many ages before the Babylonish cap-
tivity. No language continues stationary; and
the Hebrew, like other tongues, passed through
its several stages of infancy, youth, manhood,
and old age. If, therefore, on comparison, the
several parts of the Hebrew Bible are found to
differ not only in regard to style, but also in re-
gard to character and cultivation, we have strong
internal evidence that they were composed at
different and distant periods. No classical
scholar would believe, independent of the Gre-
cian history, that the poems ascribed to Homer
were written in the age of Demosthenes, the
Orations of Demosthenes in the time of Ori.en,
or the Commentaries of Origen in the time of
Lascaris and Chrysoloras. For the very same
reason, it is certain that the five books which are
ascribed to Moses were not written in the time
of David, the Psalms of David in the age of
Isaiah, nor the prophecies of Isaiah in the time
of Malachi ; and, since the Hebrew became a
dead language about the time of the Babylonish
captivity, the book of Malachi could not have
been written much later. Before that period,
therefore, were written the prophecies of Isaiah,
still earlier the Psalms of David, and much
earlier than these the books which are ascribed
to Moses. But infidels are never critics. A
modern one, the apostle of vulgar infidelity,
boasts that he had never opened a Bible for
many years when he sat down to impugn its di-
vine character.
3. Let us now consider the evidence of tes-
timony for the authenticity of the Old Testa-
ment. As the Jews were a more ancient people
than the Greeks or Romans, and for many ages
totally unconnected with them, it is not to be
expected that we should derive much evidence
from the historians of those nations ; it is to the
Jews alone we must look for information. But
it has unfortunately happened that few of their
works, except the Scriptures themselves, have
been preserved. Josephus is one of the most
ancient of the Jewish historians to whom we
can appeal. He informs us that the Old Testa-
ment was divided into three parts, the Law, the
Prophets, and the Hagiographa, or the Holy
Writings, or poetical books. No man, says he,
hath ever dared to add or take away from them.
He tells us, also, that other books were written
after the time of Artaxerxes ; but, as they were
not composed by prophets, they were not
reckoned worthy of the same credit (see BIBLE).
Since the promulgation of the Christian religion,
it is impossible that any material alterations or
corruptions could have taken place in the books
SCRIPTURE.
503
of the Old Testament ; for, from that period
they have been in the hands both of Jews and
Christians. Had the Jews attempted to make
any alterations, the Christians would have de-
tected and exposed them ; nor would the Jews
have been less severe against the Christians, if
they had corrupted the sacred text. But the
copies in the hands of Jews and Christians
agree ; and therefore we justly conclude that the
Old Testament is still pure and uncorrupted.
The division mentioned by our Saviour into
the Law, the Prophets, and the Psalms, corre-
sponds with that of Josephus. We have there-
fore sufficient evidence to convince even a deist,
that the Old Testament existed at that time.
And, if the deist will only allow that Jesus
Christ was a person of a virtuous and irreproach-
able character, he will acknowledge that we draw
a fair conclusion, when we assert that the Scrip-
tures were not corrupted in his time ; for when
he accused the Pharisees of making the law of
no effect by their traditions, and when he en-
joined his hearers to search the Scriptures, he
could not have failed to mention the corruptions
or forgeries of Scripture, if any in that age had
existed. But we are assured by very respecta-
ble authority that the canon of the Old Testa-
ment was fixed some centuries before the birth
of Jesus Christ. Jesus, the son of Sirach, the
author of Ecclesiasticus, makes evident refer-
ences to the prophecies of Isaiah, Jeremiah, and
Kzekiel, and mentions these prophets by name.
lie speaks also of the twelve minor prophets.
It appears also, from the prologue, that the law
and the prophets, and other ancient books, existed
at the same period. The book of Ecclesiasti-
cus, according to the best chronologers, was
written in Syriac, about A.M. 3772, that is 232
years before the Christian era, and was translated
into Greek in the next century by the grandson
of the author. The prologue was added by the
translator ; but this circumstance does not dimi-
nish the evidence for the antiquity of Scripture ;
for he informs us that the law and the prophets,
and the other books of their fathers, were stu-
died by his grandfather; a sufficient proof that
they existed in his time. As no authentic books
of a more ancient date, except the sacred writ-
ings themselves, have reached our time, we can
ascend no higher in search of testimony.
There is, however, one remarkable historical
fact which proves the existence of the law of
Moses at the dissolution of the kingdom of
Israel, when the ten tribes were carried captive
to Assyria by Shalmaneser, and dispersed among
the provinces of that extensive expire ; that is,
about 741 years before Christ. About that time
the Samaritans were transported from Assyria to
repeople the country which the ten captive
tribes of Israel had formerly inhabited. The
posterity of the Samaritans still inhabit the land
of their fathers, and have preserved copies of
the Pentateuch, two or three of which were
brought to this country in the seventeenth cen-
tury. The Samaritan Pentateuch is written in
old Hebrew characters, and therefore must have
existed before the time of Ezra. But so violent
were the animosities which subsisted between
the Jews and Samaritans, that in no period of
VOL. XIX.
their history would the one nation have received
any books from the other. They must therefore
have received them at their first settlement ir_
Samaria, from the captive priest whom Shal-
maneser sent to teach them how they should fear
the Lord (2 Kings xvii.). The canon of the Old
Testament, as both Jewish and Christian writers
agree, was completed by Ezra and some of his
immediate successors. (See BIBLE.) In our
copies the sacred books are divided into thirty-
nine. The Jews reckoned only twenty-two,
corresponding to the number of letters in the
Hebrew alphabet. They united the books of
Judges and Ruth ; they joined the two books of
Samuel ; the books of Kings and Chronicles
were reckoned one ; Ezra and Nehemiah one ;
the Prophecies and Lamentations of Jeremiah
were taken under the same head ; and the twelve
minor prophets were considered as one book —
so that the whole number of books in the Jewish
canon amounted to twenty-two.
In our article REVELATION will be found seve-
ral of the general arguments in favor of revealed
religion : its connexion with natural religion, &c.
Before closing this introductory essay we may add
some excellent observations which modern infide-
lity has been the means of eliciting on the genuine-
ness as distinct from the authenticity of a book;
and then advert to the proofs of the inspiration
of scripture as distinguishable from both.
The late bishop Watson, addressing Thomas
Paine, says, ' You know but of one ancient book
that authoritatively challenges universal consent
and belief, and that is Euclid's Elements. If I
were disposed to make frivolous objections, I
should say that even Euclid's Elements had not
met with universal consent ; that there had been
men, both in ancient and modern times, who
had questioned the intuitive evidence of some of
his axioms, and denied the justness of some of
his demonstrations : but, admitting the truth, I
do not see the pertinency of your observation.
You are attempting to subvert the authenticity
of the Bible, and you tell us that Euclid's Ele-
ments are certainly true. — What then ? Does it
follow that the Bible is certainly false? The
most illiterate scrivener in the kingdom does not
want to be informed that the examples, in his
Wingate's Arithmetic, are proved by a different
kind of reasoning from that by which he per-
suades himself to believe that there was such a
person as Henry VIII., or that there is such a
city as Paris. It may be of use to remove this
confusion in your argument to state, distinctly,
the difference between the genuineness and the
authenticity of a book. A genuine book is that
which was written by the person whose name it
bears as the author of it. An authentic book is
that which relates matters of fact as they really
happened. A book may be genuine without
being authentic ; and a book may be authentic
without being genuine. The books written by
Kicluirdson and Fielding are genuine books,
though the histories of Clarissa and Tom Jones
are fables. The history of the island of Formosa
is a genuine book ; it was written by Psalmana-
zar : but it is not an authentic book (though it
was long esteemed as such, and translated into
different languages); for the author, in the latt?.-
2 Q
594
SCRIPTURE.
part of his life, took shame to himself for having
imposed on the world, and confessed that it was
a mere romance. Anson's Voyage may be consi-
dered as an authentic book, it, probably, containing
a true narration of the principal events recorded
in it ; but it is not a genuine book, having not
been written by Walter, to whom it is ascribed,
but by Robins.
' This distinction between the genuineness and
authenticity of a book will assist us in detecting
the fallacy of an argument, which you state with
great confidence in the part of your work now
under consideration, and which you frequently
allude to, in other parts, as conclusive evidence
against the truth of the Bible. Your argument
stands thus : if it be found that books ascribed
to Moses, Joshua, and Samuel, were not written
by Moses, Joshua, and Samuel, every part of the
authority and authenticity of these books is gone
at once. — I presume to think otherwise. The
genuineness of these books, in the judgment of
those who say that they were written by these
authors, will certainly be gone; but their authen-
ticity may remain ; they may still contain a true
account of real transactions, though the names of
the writers'of them should be found to be differ-
ent from what they are generally esteemed to be.
Had, indeed, Moses said that he wrote the
first five books of the Bible; and had Joshua
and Samuel said that they wrote the books
which are respectively attributed to them ; and
had it been found that Moses, Joshua, and
Samuel, did not write these books ; then, I grant,
the authority of the whole would have been gone
at once ; these men would have been found liars,
as to the genuineness of the books; and this
proof of their want of veracity, in one point,
would have invalidated their testimony in every
other ; these books would have been justly stig-
matised as neither genuine nor authentic. A
history may be true, though it should not only
be ascribed to a wrong author, but though the
author of it should not be known ; anonymous
testimony does not destroy the reality of facts,
whether natural or miraculous. Had Lord Cla-
rendon published his History of the Rebellion,
without prefixing his name to it; or had the
history of Titus Livius come down to us under
the name of Valerius Flaccus, or Valerius Maxi-
mus, the facts mentioned in these histories would
nave been equally certain.'
This same perspicuous advocate of Christianity
may well introduce the arguments for the inspi-
ration of Scripture.
Addressing his opponent, with more courtesy
than he merited at such hands, he says, in the
conclusion of the able Apology for the Bible,
' You admit the possibility of God's revealing
his will to man : yet ' the thing so revealed,'
you say, is ' revelation to the person only to
whom it is made ; his account of it to another is
not revelation.' — This is true ; his account is
simple testimony. You add, ' there is no possible
criterion to judge of the truth of what he says.' —
This I positively deny : and contend that a real
miracle, performed in attestation of a revealed
truth, is a certain criterion by which we may
judge of the truth of that attestation. I am per-
fectly aware of the objections which may be
made to this position ; 1 have examined them
with care ; I acknowledge them to be of weight ;
but I do not speak unadvisedly, or as wishing to
dictate to other men, when I say that I am per-
suaded the position is true. So thought Moses,
when, in the matter of Koran, he said to the Israel-
ites— ' If these men die the common death of all
men, then the Lord hath not sent me.' So thought
Elijah, when he said, ' Lord God of Abraham,
Isaac, and of Israel, let it be known this day that
thou art God in Israel, and that I am thy ser-
vant ;' — and the people, before whom he spake,
were of the same opinion ; for, when the fire of
the Lord fell and consumed the burnt-sacrifice,
they said — ' The Lord he is the God.' So
thought our Saviour when he said — ' The works
that I do in ray Father's name, they bear witness
of me;' and, ' If I do not the works of my Father,
believe me not.' What reason have we to be-
lieve Jesus speaking in the Gospel, and to dis-
believe Mahomet speaking in the Koran? Both
of them lay claim to a divine commission ; and
yet we receive the words of the one as a revela-
tion from God, and we reject the words of the
other as an imposture of man. The reason is
evident; Jesus established his pretensions, not
by alleging any secret communication with the
Deity, but by working numerous and indubitable
miracles in the presence of thousands, and which
the most bitter and watchful of his enemies- could
not disallow; hut Mahomet wrought no miracles
at all. Nor is a miracle the only criterion by which
we may judge of the truth of a revelation. If
a series of prophets should, through a course of
many centuries, predict the appearance of a cer-
tain person, whom God would, at a particular
time, send into the world for a particular end ;
and at length a person should appear, in whom
all the predictions were minutely accomplished :
sacn a completion of prophecy would be a crite-
rion of the truth of that revelation, which that
person should deliver to mankind. Or if a per-
son should now say (as many false prophets
have said, and are daily saying) that he had a
commission to declare the will of God ; and, as
a proof of his veracity, should predict that, after
his death, he would rise from the dead on the
third day ; the completion of such a prophecy
would, I presume, be a sufficient criterion of the
truth of what this man might have said concern-
ing the will of God. Now I tell you (says Jesus
to his disciples, concerning Judas, who was to
betray him), before it come, that when it is come
to pass, ye may believe that I am he. In vari-
ous parts of the Gospels our Saviour, with the
utmost propriety, claims to be received as the
messenger of God, not only from the miracles
which he wrought, but from the prophecies
which were fulfilled in his person, and from the
predictions which he himself delivered. Hence,
instead of there being no criterion by which we
may judge of the truth of the Christian revela-
tion, there are clearly three. It is an easy mat-
ter to use an indecorous flippancy of language
in speaking of the Christian religion, and, with
a supercilious negligence, to class Christ and
his apostles amongst the impostors who have
SCRIPTURE.
595
figured in the world ; but it is not, I think, an
easy matter for any man, of good sense and
sound erudition, to make an impartial examina-
tion into any one of the three grounds of Christ-
ianity which I have here mentioned, and to re-
ject it.'
Dr. Olinthus Gregory has ably collected the
more general arguments for the inspiration of
Scripture, and in particular of the New Testa-
ment, in the following portion of his Letters
on the Evidences of Christianity : —
' A firm and cordial belief of the inspiration
of the Bible is, indeed, of the highest moment ;
for, unless you are persuaded that those who were
employed in the composition of the respective
books were entirely preserved from error, a con-
viction of their honesty and integrity will be but
of little avail. Honest men may err, may point
out the wrong track, however unwilling they
may be to deceive ; and, if those who have pen-
ned what we receive as revelation are thus open
to mistakes, we are still left to jnake the voyage
of life in the midst of rocks, and shelves, and
quicksands, with a compass vacillating and use-
less, and our pole-star enveloped in mists and
obscurity. But some of these writers assure us
that ' all Scripture is given us by inspiration of
God' (b) ; meaning, at least, the Jewish Scrip-
tures ; a declaration which deserves attention on
the score of the general veracity by which we
have already shown their assertions are always
marked. Still, as a like claim is made by
writers who, it has been ascertained, were wicked
and designing, let us enquire on what grounds
and to what extent the divine inspiration of the
Bible ought to be admitted.
' Theologians have enumerated several kinds
of inspiration : such as an inspiration of super-
intendency, in which God so influences and di-
rects the mind of any person as to keep him more
secure from error in some complex discourse,
than he would have been merely by the use of
his natural faculties : — plenary superintendent
inspiration, which excludes any mixture of error
whatever from the performance so superintended :
—inspiration of elevation, where the faculties act
in a regular, and, as it should seem, in a com-
mon manner, yet are raised to an extraordinary
degree, so that the composition shall, upon the
whole, have more of the true sublime, or pathe-
tic, than natural genius could have given : — and
inspiration of suggestion, in which the use of
the faculties is superseded, and God does, as it
were, speak directly to the mind, making such
discoveries to it as it could not otherwise have
obtained, and dictating tne very words in which
such discoveries are to be communicated, if they
are designed as a message to others. It is not
my purpose to enter into any enquiry how far
different portions of Scripture were composed
under one or other of these kinds of inspiration.
I have enumerated them merely to show you
that those who contend that Scripture is in-
spired have not arrived at their decision by a
gross and careless process, but by sedulous, cri-
tical, and discriminating investigation. I mean,
however, to affirm, and I trust the references I
(b) 2 Tim. iii. 16.
have thrown at the foot of the page, together
with a few particular arguments I shall advance,
will prove to you the reasonableness of admit-
ting that, while the authors employed in the
composition of the Bib'e exercised generally
their own reason and judgment (c), the spirit of
God effectually stirred them up to write (d);
appointed to each his proper portion and topic,
corresponding with his natural talents, and the
necessities of the church in his time (e); enlight-
ened their minds and gave them a distinct view
of the truths they were to deliver (_/*); strength-
ened and refreshed their memories to recollect
whatever they had seen or heard, the insertion of
which in their writings would be beneficial (g) ;
directed them to select from a multitude of facts
what was proper for the edification of the church,
and neither more nor less (A) ; excited afresh in
their minds such images and ideas as had been
laid up in their memories, and directed them to
other ends and purposes than themselves would
ever have done of their own accord (t) ; sug-
gested and imprinted upon their minds such
matters as could not have been discovered or
known by reason, observation, or information,
but were subjects of pure revelation (/c); superin-
tended every particular writer, so as to render
him infallible in his matter, words, and order,
especially whenever they related to facts, dis-
courses, or doctrines, the communication of
which is the great object of Scripture ; thus ren-
dering the whole canon, at any given period, an
infallible guide to true holiness and everlasting
happiness (/).
' Now that the Scriptures were actually dic-
tated by an inspiration of this kind may, 1 think,
be inferred both from the reasonableness and
from the necessity of the thing. It is reasonable
that the sentiments and doctrines developed in
the Scriptures should be suggested to the minds
of the writers by the Supreme Being himself.
They relate principally to matters concerning
which the communicating information to men is
worthy of God : and the more important the in-
formation communicated, the more it is calcu-
lated to impress mankind, to preserve from
moral error, to stimulate to holiness, to guide to
happiness, the more reasonable is it to expect
that God should make the communication ia
a manner free from every admixture or risque
of error. Indeed the notion of inspiration enters
(c) Ps. xlv. 1. Mark xii. 36. Luke i. 3. Acts
i. 1. 1 Pet. i. 11.
(d) 2 Pet. i 21.
(e) 2 Pet. i. 21. Matt. xxv. 15.
(/) Jer. i. 11—16. xiii. 9—14. Ezek. iv. 4—8
Dan. viii. 15—19. ix. 22—27. x. 1—8. Amos vii
7, 8. viii. 2. Zech. i. 19—21. iv. 11—14. v. 6.
John xvi 13. Eph. iii. 3, 4. 1 Pet. i. 10, 11.
(0) Lu« i. 3. John xiv. 26. Jer. xxxi. 3.
(fc) Jonn xx. 30, 31. xxi. 25. Rom. iv. 23, 24
xv. 4. 1 Cor. x. 6—11.
(») Amos i. and ix. Acts xvii. 28. 1 Cor. xv.
33. Tit. i. 12.
(A) Gen. i. ii. iii. Lev. xxvi. Isa. xli. 22, 23.
xlv. 21. xlvi. 9, 10. 1 Tim. iii. 16.
(/) Deut. viii. 1 — 4. Ps. xix. 7 — 11. cxix. Matt,
xxii. 29. Luke xiv. 25—31. John v. 39. Rom.
xv. 4. 2 Tim. iii. 15—17. 2 Pet. i. 19.
2 Q2
S C FM
essentially into our ideas of a revelation from
God; so that to deny inspiration is tantamount
»o affirming there is no revelation. And why
should it be denied ? Is man out ef the reach
of him who created him ? Has he, who gave
man his intellect, no means of enlarging or il-
luminating that intellect? And is it beyond his
power to illuminate and inform in an especial
manner the intellects of some chosen individuals;
or contrary to his wisdom to preserve them from
error when they communicate to others, either
orally or by writing, the knowledge he imparted
to them, not merely for their own benefit, but
for that of the world at large ?
' But, farther, inspiration is necessary. The
necessity of revelation I have shown in a former
fetter ; and the same reasoning, in connexion
with what I have just remarked, establishes the
necessity of inspiration. Besides this, the sub-
jects of Scripture render inspiration necessary.
Some past facts recorded in the Bible could not
possibly have been known had not C»od revealed
'hem. Many things are recorded there as fu-
ture, that is, are predicted, which God alone
could foreknow and foretel, which notwithstand-
ing came to pass, and which, therefore, were
foretold under divine inspiration. Others, again,
are far above human capacity, and could never
have been discovered by men: these, therefore,
roust have been delivered by divine inspiration.
The authoritative language of Scripture, too,
argues the necessity of inspiration, admitting
the veracity of the writers. They propose things
not as matters for consideration, but for adoption :
they d« not leave us the alternative of receiving
or rejecting; do not present us with their own
thoughts ; but exclaim, ' Thus saith the Lord,'
and on that ground demand our assent. They
must of necessity therefore speak and write as
they ' were inspired by the Holy Ghost,' or be
impostors : and the last supposition is precluded
by reasonings which I have again and again
brought forward in these letters. Very striking
proofs of the inspiration of the Scriptures might
DC deduced from a consideration of their sub-
limity, their union of perspicuity with profundity,
their piety, their pure and holy tendency, their
efficacy, their harmony, and their miraculous
preservation. But I shall leave you to reflect
upon these at your leisure, and proceed to lay
before you, as an argument of no small weight,
the testimony of those who lived nearest the apos-
tolic times on this point. They may naturally be
expected, so far I mean as is independent of the
written word, to know more of the mind of those
who, in regard to religious topics, had the ' mind
of Christ,' than any Christians in subsequent ages.'
Our author then establishes by quotations from
these writers (which we have not room to trans-
cribe) that nearly all the Christian writers in the
first three centuries, whose performances have
wholly or partly reached us, speak of the Scrip-
tures as divine, call them the Holy Scriptures,
the sacred fountain, the divine fountains of salva-
tion, &c., evidently implying their inspiration :
and that in those early ages the whole church
agreed in sentiment that no book should be re-
ceived into the canon of Scripture of whose m-
spiiation there was any doubt. The curious
T I" R E.
reader may consult farther tlu- testimonies col-
lected by Dr. Whitby, vol. t. I'ref., by Dr.
Lardner in the second part of his Credibility, Dr.
Doddridge in his Lectures on Divinity, and in
his Family Expositor, vol. iii.
' Thus, then, we see,' he adds, ' that in the
primitive ages the universal opinion was in favor
of the inspiration of the Scriptures. Let us next
enquire how far this opinion grows naturally out
of an examination of the Scriptures themselves.
Considered in relation to the present subject,
the books of Scripture fall under three classes :
the prophetical books ; the historical books of
the Old Testament ; and the New Testament,
being in part historical, in part doctrinal.
' Now, as to the prophetical books, their di-
vine authority and their inspiration follow at
once from the completion of several of the pre-
dictions they contain : the entire fulfilment of the
whole is not essential to the argument. The in-
spiration of the New Testament may be inferred
from the language of our Lord, and that of the
apostles. Thus, Jesus Christ promised extraordi-
nary assistance to his apostles. He promised them
' the Comforter,' ' the Holy Spirit,' ' the Spirit of
Truth,' who should ' testify of him,' should ' teach
them all things, bring all things to their remem-
brance whatsoever Christ had said unto them,
should guide them into all truth, should abide with
them for ever, and show them things to come (;«).'
Again, he says, * when the Comforter is come,
whom I will send to you from the Father, even
the Spirit of Truth, which proceedeth from the
Father, he shall testify of me ; and ye also (being
so assisted) shall bear witness (n).' From these
passages it is but fair and reasonable to conclude
that the aid of this Heavenly Guide was to be
vouchsafed them on all suitable occasions ; and
surely no occasions could render it more ex-
pedient than when they were engaged in de-
livering written instructions, whether in the form
of Gospels or of Epistles, which were intended
for the edification of the Christian church till
* time should be no longer.' In fact, the Spirit
could not abide with them for ever, in relation to
t! e church, in any other way than by preserving
the word they delivered from such human or
diabolical depreciation and corruption as migh*
render it injurious instead of being salutary. It
will also be worth our while to notice the re-
markable language in which Jesus Christ pro-
mises his apostles the extraordinary assistance of
the Spirit while they are defending his cause be-
fore magistrates. 'Settle it therefore in your
hearts not to meditate before what ye shall
answer ; for I will give you a mouth and wisdom
which all your adversaries shall not be able to
gainsay or resist. Take no thought how or what
ye shall speak ; for it shall be given you in that
same hour what ye shall speak ; for it is not you
that speak, but the Spirit of your Father thai
speaketh in you (o).* If this were to be the case
when they pleaded before magistrates, how much
more reason is there to conclude that, when they
(m) John xiv. 16—26. xvi. 13.
(n) John xv. 26, 27.
(o) Luke xxi. 14, 15. Matt. x. 19, 20. Mark
riii. 11.
SCRIPTURE.
597
were writing for the use of all future generations,
it was not so much they who wrote as the Spirit
of the Father who dictated to them, and thus
wrote by them. For the occasion is evidently
much more important in the latter instance than
in the former : an error in their writings would
have a much more extensive, permanent, and
injurious influence, than any error that could oc-
cur in a pleading or argument, necessarily of
transient impression, before a magistrate.
' In estimating the authority claimed by the
eight writers of the New Testament, we must not
only consider their unbroken, unimpeachable in-
tegrity, but that five of them were of the number
of the apostles to whom the promises just cited
were made. Of the other three, one, namely
Luke, is generally admitted to have been of the
seventy disciples sent out by Christ, and who
received" the promise of divine superintendence
and inspiration recorded in his Gospel (p).
With regard to Mark, if his own immediate in-
spiration cannot be established, that of his Gospel
can, since it has never been questioned that he
wrote under the superintendence of Peter, an
inspired apostle. There then remains only Paul,
who repeatedly and solemnly asserts his own
inspiration, and his equality in every respect
with all the other apostles ; appealing to miracles
publicly wrought by himself in proof of his di-
vine commission. That the apostles themselves
had a full persuasion that they wrote under Di-
vine inspiration is evident from a great variety
of texts ; to some of the most important of which
I shall refer you (<?), that you may consult them
carefully, and allow them their full impression
upon your mind. You will find, too, that the
apostles considered themselves as communicating
to the world a perpetual rule of faith and prac-
tice, which would be comprehended by all ex-
cept the finally impenitent. If, say they, ' if
our gospel be under a veil, it is veiled to those
that are perishing (r).' On these accounts, as it
should seem, they preferred themselves before
the prophets, saying (x) ' God hath set in the
church, first, apostles ; secondly, prophets ; thirdly,
teachers :' language which could not properly
have been employed had the apostles been in-
spired only to preach, and not to write ; for in
that case they would manifestly be inferior to
the prophets, who in their writings, as well as
their oral denunciations, ' spake as they were
moved by the Holy Ghost.'
Dr. Doddridge, in his valuable Dissertation
on the Inspiration of the Scriptures, well ob-
serves : — ' The inspiration, and consequently the
genuineness and credibility, of the Old Testa-
ment, may be certainly inferred from that of the
New, because our Lord and his apostles were so
(p) Luke xii. 11, 12. See also Luke x 16.
(9) 1 Cor. ii. 10—16. iii. 21-23. xi. 23. xiv.
37. 2 Cor. ii. 10. iii. 5, 6. iv. 8. xi. 7. xiii. 3.
Gal. i. H, 12. Ephes. iii. 3—5. 10. iv. 11, 12.
1 Tim. i. 11. 1 Pet. i. 12. 21. 2 Pet. iii. 2. 15,
16. John x. 35. 1 John ii. 20. iv. 6. Rev. i. 1,
&c. I Thess. i. 5. 2 Thess. ii. 13.
(r) E« Sc gat «<rt KtKaXvfjifuvov TO tvajyi\iov
ijfHov, fv TO»C aTroXAvuei/oic «<rt KtKaXvuuivov.
2 Cor. iv. 3.
(f) 1 Cor. xii. 28. Ephes. ii. 20.
far from charging the Scribes and Pharisees
(who on all proper occasions are censured so
freely) with having introduced into the sacred
volume any merely human compositions; that,
on the contrary, they not only recommend a
diligent and constant perusal of these Scriptures,
as of the greatest importance to men's .eternal
happiness, but speak of them as divine oracles,
and as written by the extraordinary influence
of the Holy Spirit upon the minds of the authors.
' I desire that the following list of Scriptures
may be attentively consulted and reflected on
in this view. I might have added a great many
more, indeed several hundreds, in which the
sacred writers of the New Testament argue from
those of the Old in such a manner as nothing
could have justified but a firm persuasion that
they were divinely inspired. Now, as the Jews
always allowed that 'the testimony of an ap-
proved prophet was sufficient to confirm the
mission of one who was supported by it,' so I
think every reasonable man will readily conclude
that no inspired person can erroneously attest
another to be inspired ; and indeed the very defi-
nition of plenary inspiration absolutely excludes
any room for cavilling on so plain a head. I
throw the particular passages which I choose to
mention into the margin below (£); and he must
be a very indolent inquirer into a question of so
much importance, who does not think it worth
his while to turn carefully to them ; unless he
have already such a conviction of the argument
that it should need no farther to be illustrated or
confirmed.'
Of late, objections to the evidence from mira-
cles for the inspiration of Scripture having been
revived in one of our most popular literary
journals, bishop Gleig, of the Scottish Episcopal
Church, has inserted a valuable Supplementary
Dissertation on the Miracles of our Lord and
his Apostles in his new edition of Stackhouse's
History of the Bible. The following is an ab-
stract of the most material part of this excellent
essay : —
' A miracle has been defined — ' An effect or
event contrary to tha established constitution or
course of things,' or ' a sensible deviation from
the known laws of nature.' To this definition I
am not aware tnat any objection has ever been
made, or indeed can be made. That the visible
world is governed by stated general rules or
laws ; or that there is an order of physical causes
and effects established in every part of the sys-
tem of nature, whicli falls under our observation,
is a fact, which is not, and cannot be, contro-
verted. Effects which are produced by the re-
gular operation of these laws or physical causes,
or which are conformable to the established
(i) John v. 39. Matt. iv. 4. 7. 10. Mark xii.
24. Luke x. 26, 27. Matt. v. 17, 18; xxi. 42;
xxii. 29. 31. 43 ; xxiv. 15; xxvi. 54. 56. Luke i.
67. 69, 70 : xvi. 31 ; xxiv. 25. 27. John vi. 31 ;
x. 35. Acts ii. 16. 25 ; iii. 22. 24 ; iv. 25 ; xvii. 11 ;
xviii. 24. 28 ; xxviii. 25. Rom. iii. 2. 10 ; ix. 17.
25. 27. 29 ; x. 5. 1.1. 16 ; xv. 4 ; xvi. 26. 1. Cor.
x. 11. 2 Cor. iv. 13 ; vi. 16, 17. Gal. iii. 8.
1 Tim. v. 18 ; 2 Tim. iii. 15, 16. Heb. i. 1. 5—13 r
iii. 7. Jam. ii. 8; iv. 5, 6. 1 Pet. i. 10—13
2 Pet. i. 19—21.
698
SCRIPTURE.
course of events, are said to be natural ; and
every palpable deviation from this constitution
of the natural system, and the correspondent
course of events in it, is called a miracle.
' If this definition of a miracle be accurate,
no event can be justly deemed miraculous merely
because it is strange, or even to us unaccount-
able ; for it may be nothing more than the regu-
lar effect of some physical cause operating
according to an established though unknown law
of nature. In this country earthquakes happen
but rarely, and at no stated periods of time ; and
for monstrous births perhaps no particular and
satisfactory account can be given : yet an earth-
quake is as regular an effect of the established
laus of nature as the bursting of a bomb-shell,
or the movements of a steam engine ; and no
man doubts but that, under particular circum-
stances unknown to him, the monster is nature's
genuine issue. It is therefore necessary, before
we can pronounce an event to be a true miracle,
that the circumstances under which it was pro-
duced be known, and that the common course of
nature be in some degree understood; for, in all
those cases in which we are totally ignorant of
nature, it is impossible to determine what is, or
what is not, a deviation from her course. Mi-
racles, therefore, are not, as some have represent-
ed them, appeals to our ignorance. They sup-
pose some antecedent knowledge of the course
of nature, without which no proper judgment
can be formed concerning them ; though with it
their reality may be so apparent as to leave no
room for doubt or disputation. Thus, were a
physician to give instantly sight to a blind man,
by anointing his eyes with a chemical, prepara-
tion, which we had never before seen, and to the
nature and qualities of which we were absolute
stangers, the cure would to us undoubtedly be
wonderful , but we could not pronounce it mi-
raculcus, because it might be the physical effect
of the operation of the uuguent on the eye. But
were he to give sight to his patient merely by
commanding him to receive it, or by anointing
his eyes with spittle, we should with the utmost
confidence pronounce the cure to be a miracle ;
because we know perfectly that neither the hu-
man voice, nor human spittle has, by the estab-
lished constitution of things, any such power
over the diseases of the eye. No one is now ig-
norant that persons apparently dead are often
restored to their families and friends, by being
treated, during suspended animation, in the
manner recommended by the Humane Society.
To the vulgar, and sometimes even to men
of science, these resuscitations appear very won-
derful ; but, as they are known to be effected by
physical agency, they can never be considered as
miraculous deviations from the laws of nature,
though they may suggest to different minds very
different notions of the state of death. On the
other hand, no one could doubt of his having
witnessed a real miracle who had seen a person,
that had been four days dead, come alive out of
the grave at the call of another, or who had even
beheld a person exhibiting all the common evi-
dences of death instantly resuscitated merely by
being desired to live. Thus easy is it to distin-
guish between such miracles as those of our
blessed Saviour and the most wonderful phe-
nomena produced by physical causes, operating
according to the established laws of nature.
Yet it seems difficult to admit, on any occasion,
a suspension of these laws ; and we may safely
pronounce that they have never been suspended
but for some important purpose, which could
not otherwise have been accomplished. 'Events,'
says an able writer, ' may be so extraordinary
that they can hardly be established by any tes-
timony ;' and the instance which he gives is of
an event, in which I am not aware that any law
of nature would be suspended. ' We would not
give credit to a man who should affirm that he
saw 100 dice thrown in the air, and that they
all fell on the same faces.' To such an affirma-
tion I certainly would give no credit; for, though
I think that 100 dice might all fall on the same
faces without the suspension of any known law
of nature, such an event is so extremely impro-
bable, and of so very little importance in itself,
that it would require the evidence of more than
one witness to establish its credibility. The au-
thor however considers it as the violation of
some unknown law of nature, and immediately
infers, from its not being admitted on the report
of one man, 'that the probability of the continu-
ance of the laws of nature is superior to every
other evidence, and to that of historical facts the
best established.' In this inference I cannot ac-
quiesce; but, before entering into any discussion
on the subject, it will be necessary to ascertain
with some precision what is meant by the laws
of nature, and whence those laws had their origin.
' If this profound mathematician (Laplace is
here referred to) be, as his countrymen in gene-
ral were some years ago, convinced, either that
there is no God ; or that, if there be a God, he is
not the moral governor of the world ; or that the
present laws of nature, or the established course
of things, have existed from all eternity inde-
pendent of him and of every intellectual being,
he is perf'-ctly consistent when he says that no
weight of testimony could prove the miraculous
suspension of these laws. It would indeed be
ridiculous to talk of miracles to the atheist or
fatalist ; for if there were no God, or if God were
not the moral as well as physical governor of
the world, the- very notion of miracles, as it is
entertained by Christians, would involve in it :\
contradiction and absurdity. It is only with
theists, therefore, and such theists as, admitting
the moral attributes of God, believe that the es-
tablished course of things, or the laws of nature,
were established by him for the accomplishment of
some great and good purpose, that any discussion
can be carried on respecting the evidence necessary
to prove the temporary suspension of any one of
these laws ; for if they be all necessary, and
have been from eternity, it is as impossible to
suspend them by any power, or for any purpose,
as it is to render a geometrical axiom false.'
Let us now suppose that, when the Creator of
the world was about to establish that course of
events which we call the laws of nature, in such
order as he knew would produce the greatest
quantity of happiness to the whole sentient and
intelligent creation, lie foresaw that man, for
whose accommodation chiefly we must suppose
SCRIPTURE.
699
this earth to have beeu fitted up, would bring
aimself into such circumstances that his happi-
ness would become impossible, unless some one
of these laws should for a time be suspended ;
may we not suppose that a Being of infinite
power and wisdom might make provision for
such an event in the very establishment of those
laws? To control by force the freedom of the
human will would be to destroy that very nature
on which depends the greatest happiness of
which man is capable ; but might not some por-
tion of inanimate matter be diverted for a short
time from its regular course without the smallest
injury to any sentient or intelligent being in the
universe ? In the journal to which I have al-
ready referred, it is confidently affirmed that it
could not. ' Suppose a man,' says this critic,
* not at all versed in astronomy, who considers
the moon merely as a luminous circle that, with
certain irregularities, goes round the earth from
east to west nearly in twenty-four hours, rising
once and setting once in that interval. Let this
man be told, from some authority that he is ac-
customed to respect, that on a certain day it had
been observed at London that the moon did not
set at all, but was visible above the horizon for
twenty-four hours : — there is little doubt that,
after making some difficulty about it, he would
come at last to be convinced of the truth of the
assertion. In this he could not be accused of
any extraordinary or irrational credulity. The
experience he had of the uniform setting and
rising of the moon was but very limited ; and the
fact alleged might not appear to him more ex-
traordinary than many of the irregularities to
which that luminary is subject. Let the same
thing be told to an astronomer, in whose mind
the rising and setting of the moon were necessa-
rily connected with a vast number of other ap-
pearances ; who knew, for example, that the
supposed fact could not have happened, unless
the moon had exceedingly deviated from that
orbit in which it has always moved ; or the po-
sition of the earth's axis had been suddenly
changed ; or that the atmospherical refraction
had been increased to an extent that was never
known. Any of all these events must have affected
such a vast number of others, that, as no such
thing was ever before perceived, an incredible
body of evidence is brought to ascertain the con-
tinuance of the moon in her regular course. The
barrier that generalization and the explanation of
causes thus raises against credulity and super-
stition,— the way in which it multiplies the evi-
dence of experience, is highly deserving of at-
tention, and is likely to have a great influence
on the future fortunes of the human race.
Against the uniformity, therefore, of such laws, it
is impossible for testimony to prevail.' Cer-
tainly, it is impossible for such testimony as that
supposed, to prevail against the uniformity of
any law of nature ; for, as I have already ob-
served, if those laws be necessary and eternal,
their uniformity can never be interrupted for
any purpose or by any power, and, if they have
been established by a God of perfect wisdom and
goodness, we may be assured that they will never
be suspended for so unworthy a purpose as only
to make the citizens of London stare, and enable
one of them to try the credulity of some clown,
who believes the moon to consist, according to
the Scotch expression, of green cheese! What
such a ridiculous tale as this, supposing it ever
to have been seriously told, would have to do
with superstition, it is not easy to conceive ; but
the ingenious critic might as well have told us, in
plain terms, that it is impossible for testimony
to render credible what is said of the sun and
moon standing still at the call of Joshua ; for
even his friend, who believes the moon to be a
mere luminous circle of cheese, if at all conver-
sant with his Bible, must perceive that this is
what he intended to say under the cover of a
clumsy apologue.
' If the laws of nature be the work of fate, I
readily agree with him that the story of the sun
and moon standing still cannot be rendered cre-
dible by any testimony. If those laws be, as I
believe them to be, the constitution of an Al-
mighty and infinitely wise and good God, I
likewise readily agree with him that no testi-
mony could render credible the phenomena of
the sun and moon's standing still, but for some
important purpose that could not have been
otherwise so well accomplished. What the pur-
pose was for which the children of Israel were
separated from the idolatrous nations around
them, and established in the land of Canaan, has
been fully stated elsewhere; and the theist, with
whom I am now arguing, will admit that, whe-
ther it was real or not, that purpose was of great
importance. Great, however, as that purpose
was, for the reasons elsewhere assigned, no tes-
timony could prevail with me to believe, that, for
the sake of it, the rotation of the earth on its
axis, and the course of the moon in her orbit,
were literally arrested, unless the same Almighty
power wrought another miracle at the same in-
stant to prevent the natural consequences of the
sudden cessation of motions so rapid. Without
this second miracle, I am as fully aware as our
critic, that those events produced by the first
must have not only affected a vast number of
others, but been also productive of mischief —
such as the reducing of the earth to a state of
chaos — more than sufficient to balance the good
expected from the miracle ; — nay, that they
would have rendered the miracle itself useless,
by destroying those for whose instruction it was
meant to be wrought. I confess, however, that
I do not perceive what injury could have been
done to any sentient or intelligent being in the
solar system, or how the different planets, of
which that system is composed, could have been
disturbed in their courses, by an extraordinary
atmospherical refraction of part of the solar rays,
by which I believe the miracle in question to
have been affected. It is very true that my
knowledge of the sciences of astronomy and op-
tics is very limited when compared with that of
Laplace and his friend ; but I may surely be al-
lowed to know more of them than the man, who,
without displaying any irrational credulity, be-
lieves that on a certain day the moon had at
London forgotten to set. I have likewise con-
versed often, on the subject of miracles in gene-
ral, and of that of Joshua in particular, with
ohilosophical laymen, some of whom, with re-
600
SCRIPTURE.
spect to their knowledge of optics and astronomy,
mi<*ht, without presumption, have been brought
into comparison even witli Laplace ; and they
saw as little danger as I do, to any part of the
creation, from a temporary increase of the re-
fractive power of the atmosphere to any extent.
Indeed all philosophical theists, with whom I
have conversed freely on such subjects, have
held the will of God to be the immediate cause
(I mean efficient cause) of every law of inani-
mate nature, as well as of every deviation from
those laws, which deviations were foreseen and
provided for from the beginning, when ' the
world first rose out of chaos.' I confess likewise
that I see not how the restoration of a dead man
to life, or any other miracle recorded of our
Lord in the Gospels, could affect such a vast
number of others as (o bring what our critic
calls an incredible body of evidence against the
reality of those miracles. The most astonishing
of them all has long appeared to me to be the
multiplication of the loaves and fishes, because
it seems to imply the power of creation ; and we
certainly have the evidence of uniform experi-
ence, as far as experience can be had in such a
case, that not an atom of matter has been either
created or annihilated since the beginning of the
world. The quantity, however, of new matter
added, on those two occasions, to the old, suppos-
ing such to have been the case, was comparatively
so small, that the philosophers, who ' weigh not
only the mountains of the earth,' but even the
earth itself and all the planetary system, ' in a
pair of scales,' and who hope, by the aid of ' a
calculus sufficiently powerful, to make near ap-
proaches to omniscience,' will admit that it could
not have greatly disturbed the motions of the
earth and moon, or any other planet.
' On the principles of pure theism, therefore,
though certainly not on those of atheism or fa-
talism, the possibility of miracles — and even of
such miracles as those of our Lord, — will surely
be admitted : but the great question is, what
evidence is sufficient to render them credible ?
The Christians say that the evidence of testimony
is sufficient for this purpose, and indeed that no
other evidence can be had. That the truth of
the gospel miracles admits, in the present age,
of no other evidence than that of testimony, will
be readily admitted; but our critic contends, as
Hume had done before him, that the improbabi-
lity of the violation of the order of those events,
of which the course is known from experience
to be perfectly uniform, is so strong, that no tes-
timony can prevail against it. 'It will always
be more wonderful,' he says, ' that the violation
of such order should have taken place, than that
any number of witnesses should have been de-
ceived themselves, or should be disposed to de-
ceive others.' If this doctrine be true, how
many facts have taken place in nature, or have
been said by philosophers to take place in nature,
which notone man of 10,000, or even 10,000,000,
can rationally believe to have happened ! ' That
testimony derives all its force from experience,'
says the critic, ' seems very certain ;' and Hume,
as he acknowledges, had said the same thing be-
fore him. But, if this be true, upon what evi-
dence can I and hundreds of millions beside me
believe, that showers of meteoric stones have, in
different ages and distant nations, fallen from
the atmosphere on the earth ? I never saw one
such stone fall, and I have the evidence of uni-
form experience that the atmosphere does not
regularly generate metallic stones. Every man
who is in the same predicament with me has the
same immense weight of experience to place in
the balance against the testimony of the compa-
ratively very small number who say that they
had witnessed such stones fall from the heavens;
and, if it be very certain that testimony derives
all it;; force from experience, how can it be pos-
sible for hundreds of millions of men, possessing
common sense, to admit, in opposition to their
own uniform experience, the testimony of some
dozens of people who may have been deceived
themselves, or disposed, like the London citizen
with his moon of cheese, to deceive others ? It
is vain to say that we liave the experience of
ages, and of numbers of chemists who have ex-
amined the stones, in corroboratioa of the testi-
mony that they fell from the heavens ; for in this
argument, where experience of the uniformity of
the laws of nature is opposed to testimony bear-
ing witness that those laws have been occasion-
ally suspended, no experience can be admitted
but individual personal experience. The expe-
rience of ages and of distant nations — indeed the
experience of every individual but myself — is
known to me only by testimony ; and is it pos-
sible that any philosopher can seriously contend
that testimony derives all its force from that ex-
perience, of which we never could have known
any thing — of which, indeed, we never could
have heard — but through the medium of testimony?
This is surely not possible, and therefore it must
be by every man's individual personal experi-
ence, by which, on the principles of Hume and
his followers, the truth of testimony is to lie
tried. If so, I ought not to believe that there
has ever been an earthquake; for 1 never felt the
shock of one, though I have heard of many, and
of some which were said to have been felt by
numbers in the very town where I then was ! I
ought not to believe that a monstrous child was
ever born of a woman; for I never saw a human
being, who could with any propriety be called a
monster, whilst I know, by uniform personal
experience, that every monstrous birth, if there
have been any such births, has been a deviation
from the regular course of nature. In vain shall
I be told that earthquakes may be accounted for
in certain circumstances, and shown to be pro-
duced by the operation of the laws of nature ;
for those circumstances are probably assumed
for the purpose, and, whether they be or not,
they are made known to me only by testimony
•wnich I ought to disregard, because directly
contrary to my uniform experience.
' But even this mode of converting testimony
into experience cannot be had recourse to in
the case of the meteoric stones ; for, according to
one of the most scientific chemists of the age,
4 it would be absurd, in the present state of our
knowledge, to attempt any explanation of the
manner in which they are formed ; for not even
a conjectural cause for them in the smallest de-
gree probable can be assigned.' We are told in-
SCRIPTURE.
601
deed that the testimony produced in support of
the origin of those stones, ' has been confirmed
by a scrupulous examination into the natural
history of the facts (the stones) themselves.
When the stones which were said to have fallen
from the heavens came to be chemically analyzed,
they were found to have every where the same
characters, and to consist of the same ingredients,
nearly in the same proportions ;' whilst no other
stones have any where been found of precisely
the same character. ' Here, therefore,' says the
reviewer of Laplace, ' we have a testimony con-
firmed, and rendered quite independent of our
previous knowledge of the veracity of the wit-
nesses.' This inference I cannot admit; nor
can I conceive by what rule of logic it is drawn
from the premises. Not to insist on the unquestion-
able fact that the result of the chemical analysis
of the stones can be known, to those myriads who
were not present when it was made, only by tes-
timony, all thatseemsto me to have been proved
by that analysis is that the stones in question are
of one and the same species, and that the spe-
cies itself is very uncommon. These two facts I
admit to have been completely proved ; for I
have no hesitation to receive the testimony of
the chemist by whom they were ascertained ; but
why stones of a singular character, found in dif-
ferent regions of the earth, should therefore be
inferred to have fallen from the heavens, I con-
fess that I am yet to learn. That a stone of two
or three tons weight, as some of those meteoric
stones have been, should be generated in the
higher regions of the atmosphere, and float in a
horizontal direction over various countries, at
the distance of sixty miles from the earth, is di-
rectly contrary not only to all my experience,
but likewise to all that I know of the constitution
of the atmosphere, as well as of the law of gravi-
tation— the best ascertained, perhaps, of all the
laws of corporeal nature ! Am I then to reject
with scorn all that I have been told of ignited
stones falling from the heavens ? Undoubtedly I
ought to do so, if testimony derives all its force
from experience; for though those stones have
been chemically analysed, and their composition
ascertained by experiments, not an individual of
the human race can believe that they fell from
the atmosphere on any other evidence than the
unsupported testimony of those very few persons
who have said that they saw them fall. ' But it
will always be more wonderful tiiat masses of
iron, pyrites, and earth, of the weight of two or
three tons, should be formed in the higher regions
jf the atmosphere, and even float horizontally in
that rare medium, as a log of wood floats in
water, than that any number of witnesses, who
affirm that they say them fall, should have been
deceived themselves, or disposed to deceive
others.' They may have had their origin in the
heart of the earth, and been forced upwards by
ubterraneotis fire ; and this may seem the more
probable, that the principal ingredient in them is
iron in the metallic state ; that they have been
generally found hot and buried to a considerable
depth in the earth ; and that such eruptions
from the bowels of the earth, through the craters
of volcanoes, have frequently been accompanied
by appearances in the air which might easily be
mistaken by a few individuals — almost stupified
with astonishment — for meteors descending from
the heavens.
' In a word, it appears to me that there is not
one objection urged by Hume, Laplace, or any
of their pupils, against the sufficiency of testi-
mony to prove the reality of the gospel miracles,
which does not hold with at least equal force
against the reality of those showers of meteoric
stones which are said to have fallen in all the
quarters of the globe. The truth, however, is,
that these objections are in both cases founded
on a palpable mistake. Testimony is so far from
deriving all its force from experience, that as was
justly observed long ago (by Dr. Campbell in
his admirable Dissertation on Miracles), it is the
sole foundation of by far the greater part of what
the opponents of the gospel call firm, unaltera-
ble, and universal experience ; and that if we
did not, in certain circumstances, repose implicit
confidence in testimony, every man s knowledge
of events would be confined to those which had
fallen under the immediate observation of his
own senses. Hume seems to have been per-
fectly aware of this, when he supposed a case, in
which, were it ever to occur, testimony would be
sufficient to establish the credibility even of a
miracle. ' No testimony,' says he, ' is sufficient
to establish a miracle, unless the testimony be
of such a kind that its' falsehood would be more
miraculous than the fact which it endeavours to
establish. — When any one tells me, that he saw
a dead man restored to life, I immediately con-
sider with myself, whether it be more probable
that this person should either deceive or be de-
ceived, or that the fact, which he relates, should
really have happened. I weigh the one miracle
against the ether, and, according to the superio-
rity which I discover, I pronounce my decision,
and always reject the greater miracle. If the
falsehood of his testimony would be more mira-
culous than the event which he relates; then,
and not till then, can he pretend to command
my belief or opinion.
' There is some inaccuracy of language in
talking of greater and less miracles when omni-
potence is supposed to have performed them all;
but it is no more than justice to acknowledge
that the author admitted, in a note, that all real
miracles are equally easy to the Almighty, by
observing ' that the raising of a feather, when the
wind wants ever so little force requisite for that
purpose is as real a miracle as the raising of a
house or ship into the air.' By greater and less
miracles therefore, and by always rejecting the
greater, it is evident that he meant nothing more
than that of two or more deviations from the known
laws of nature, one might iu itself, when con-
templated with all its circumstances, appear less
probable than the others ; and that, if he could
not reject them all, his principles would compel
him to reject that which should appear least
probable when viewed in all its bearings. This
seems to be a just maxim ; and therefore, if it
can be shown that the testimony given by the
apostles and other first preachers of the gospel
to the miracles of their Lord, would, on the sup-
position that those miracles were not really per-
formed, have been as great a deviation from the
602
SCRIPTURE.
known laws of nature as the miracles themselves, tural connexion between the signs and the things
the balance must be considered as evenly poised signified — between ideas or notions in the mind
by opposite miracles ; and, whilst it shall conti- and articulate vocal sounds — yet it is obvious
nue so, the judgment must remain in a state of that, without a violent effort of the speaker to
suspense. But if it shall appear that, in this the contrary, they must always be in conformity
with each other, because, in every language,
rase, the false testimony would have been a de-
viation from the laws of nature much less pro-
bable in itself than the miracles recorded in the
gospels, the balance will be instantly destroyed ;
and, by Mr. Hume's maxim, we must reject the
supposition of falsehood in the testimony of the
apostles, and admit the miracles of Christ to
have been really performed.
' In this argument it is needless to waste time
in proving that those miracles, as they are re-
presented in the writings of the New Testament,
were of such a nature, and performed before so
many witnesses, that no imposition could possi-
bly be practised on the senses of those who affirm
that they were present. From every page of the
gospels this is so evident that the philosophical
adversaries of the Christian faith never suppose
the apostles to have been themselves deceived,
but boldly accuse them of bearing false witness.
But, if this accusation be well founded, their tes-
timony itself is as great a miracle, or, in other
words, as real a deviation from the laws of na-
ture, as any which they record of themselves or
of their master. That testimony does not derive
all its force from experience has been already
proved; and M indeed little less than self-evi-
dent from the unquestionable fact that the ear-
liest assent, which is given to testimony by chil-
dren who have no experience, is unlimited,
whilst the experience of age renders men dis-
trustful. Exactly the reverse would be the case,
were our belief in testimony the result of expe-
rience. It has therefore been thought that the
beneficent Author of nature, who intended man
to be a social creature, hath implanted in every
human breast an instinctive propensity to speak
truth, and likewise a disposition to confide im-
plicitly in the veracity of others; and it cannot
be denied that children believe whatever is told
them, and that the greatest liar on earth speaks
a hundred truths for one falsehood. That truth
is indeed always at the door of the lips ; that it
requires no effort to bring it forth ; that in ordi-
nary cases men speak truth uninfluenced by any
motive moral or political ; and that lying is
never practised by the worst of men without
some effort to accomplish some end, are posi-
tions which daily experience renders it impossi-
ble to question. But, notwithstanding all this, I
do not think that truth is spoken by an original
and instinctive principle ; because men appear
not to be impelled by instinct to speak any arti-
culate language at all ; and it is surely incon-
ceivable that instinct should teach the use of ar-
bitrary and artificial signs, such as the words of
every language undoubtedly are, or that between
such signs and ideas any natural relation should
ever be formed :' — In human testimony the ideas
in the mind of the speaker are the things signi-
fied, and the words of the language spoken are
the signs by which they are expressed; and,
when these things and signs are in conformity
to each other, the words uttered express so much
truth Now, though in this case there is no na-
evcry
there are words appropriated to the purpose of
denoting every idea, and every relation of ideas,
which can be expressed by that language; and
in the mind of every man those ideas, relations
of ideas, and their appropriate words, have been
constantly associated or linked together from the
time that he first learned to speak. So intimate
is this association, and so impossible to be
broken, that whoever will pay sufficient attention
to the operations of his own mind, will find that
he thinks as well as speaks in some language ;
and that in cogitation he runs over, silently and
habitually, those sounds which in speaking he
actually utters. Hence it is that hardly any
man has written in perfect purity a language in
which he has not been accustomed to think ; and
hence too, I believe, it is, that so many men of
deep thinking have been remarked for the prac-
tice of speaking to themselves. If this be so, it
is impossible that a man, without some effort,
should ever speak any thing but truth ; for the
ideas of what he has seen or heard, &c., are not
of his manufacture ; they are generated in his
mind by external objects, according to the es-
tablished laws of nature ; and, till they be effaced
from his memory, they must always, by the law
of association, which is one of those laws, make
their appearance there with all their mutual re-
lations, and in their appropriate dress. In the
very act of learning to speak, we necessarily
learn to speak the truth ; for what I have called
mental truth is impressed upon our minds by
him who cannot err, and, were we not to employ
words for the expression of that truth exactly as
they are employed by those with whom we con-
verse, our language (if language it could be called)
would be unintelligible jargon; and we could
neither declare our wants, nor ask relief with any
hope of scccess. Children beginning to speak
may indeed often utter untruths or nonsense
without any motive, and merely from mistake;
and this indeed they often do, because the ideas
and words of children have neither been long
nor closely linked together ; but it is impossible
that a man, however wicked, should habitually,
and without motives, lie on ordinary occasions,
unless the constituent principles of his nature
have been totally altered ; unless his brain has
been disordered by disease ; unless his ideas
and notions have been disarranged ; and all the
associations which have taken place among them
from his infancy have been dissolved, and quite
contrary associations formed in their stead. We
know indeed, by woeful experience, that immo-
ral men occasionally utter falsehoods with a
view to deceive. But in these cases they are in-
fluenced by some motive either of hope or of
terror; the falsehood is always uttered with an
effort; and so very strong is the association be-
tween words and ideas that the truth will at
times break out in spite of all their endeavours
to conceal it ; so that the end or middle of a
false narrative, if it be of any length, and include
SCRIPTURE.
603
a numbc. af particular events or incidents, is
commonly inconsistent with the beginning. We
entertain a suspicion of falsehood, when those
who relate the same tale either palpably contra-
dict each other, or agree in every minute circum-
stance, and speak throughout the very same
language — when they are but few in number and
of a doubtful character — when they have an in-
terest in what they affirm or deny — when they
deliver their testimony either with hesitation, or
with superfluous and violent asseverations of its
trutli ; because all these are circumstances which
have been generally observed to accompany false
witness. It is likewise wiih reluctance that we
admit a narrative of evenis entirely different
from every thing that we have hitherto seen or
heard ; because we may not be certain that the
narrator is not under some influence to deceive
us in matters concerning which we have nothing
but his testimony on which to ground our judg-
ment. But in every case, where the fact record-
ed is in itself possible, and attributed to a cause
which we know to be adequate ; where a compe-
tent number of witnesses had sufficient means of
information, and were certainly under no in-
ducement to deceive, testimony is complete evi-
dence, however extraordinary the fact may be ;
because no fact, which is known to have had an
adequate cause, can be so incredible, as that a
number of men of sound understanding should
act in a manner inconsistent with the fundamental
principles of human nature, or be able, if so dis-
posed, to dissolve every association which had
been formed in the mind of each of them from
his infancy, and form new ones, all agreeing ex-
actly with one another, and yet all contrary to
llie truth.
' If this reasoning be just, and if the testimony
of the apostles to their own and their Master's
miracles be false, it follows undeniably, either
that they concerted a consistent scl erne of false-
nood, and agreed to publish it at every hazard ;
or that God had dissolved all the associations,
which had been formed in their minds, of ideas
of sense with the words of language, and arbi-
trarily formed new associations all in exact con-
formity with each other, but all in direct contra7
diction to truth. One or other of these events
must have taken place; because, upon the sup-
position of falsehood, there is no other alternative.
But such dissolution and formation of associa-
tions of ideas with words, as is supposed in the
latter event, is as great a deviation from the es-
tablished laws of nature, or, in other words, as
real a miracle, as the resurrection of a man from
the dead ; and, all real miracles being acknow-
ledged to be equally great, either of these could
have been performed only by a power equal to
the performance of the other. Nor would the
supposed voluntary agreement of the apostles,
in such a scheme of falsehood as they are said to
have published to the world, be an event less
miraculous than the Divine interposition for the
unworthy purpose implied in the former hypo-
thesis. When they sat down to fabricate their
pretended revelation, and to contrive a series of
miracles, to which they were all to appeal for its
truth, it is plain, since they proved successful in
their daring enterprise, that they must have
clearly foreseen every possible circumstance in
which they could be placed, and have prepared
consistent answers to every question that could
be put to them by their most inveterate and most
enlightened enemies ; by the statesman, the law-
yer, the philosopher, and the priest. That such
foreknowledge as this would have been miracu-
lous will not surely be denied ; since it forms
the very attribute which we find it most difficult
to allow even to God himself. . It is not, how-
ever, flie only miracle, which this supposition
would compel us to admit. The very resolution
of the apostles to propagate the belief of false
miracles, in support of such a religion as that
which is taught in the New Testament, would
have been as wide a deviation from the laws of
nature, and therefore as great a miracle, as the
mind of man has ever conceived.
' When they formed this design, either they
must have hoped to succeed, or they must have
been convinced that they should fail in their un-
dertaking ; and, in either case, they chose evil,
and what thev knew to be unmixed evil, for its
own sake ! They could not, if they foresaw
that they should fail, look for any thing but that
contempt, disgrace, and persecution, which were
then the inevitable consequences of an unsuc-
cessful endeavour to overthrow the established
religion. Nor would their prospects be brighter
on the supposition of their success. As they
knew themselves to be false witnesses, and impi-
ous deceivers, they could have no hope beyond
the grave ; and, by determining to oppose all the
religious systems, superstitions, and prejudices of
the age in which they lived, they wilfully ex-
posed themselves to inevitable misery in the pre-
sent life, to insult and imprisonment, to stripes
and death. Nor can it be alleged that they
might look forward to power and affluence,
when they should through sufferings have con-
verted their countrymen; for, so desirous were
they of obtaining nothing but misery as the end
of their mission, that they made their own perse-
cution a test of the truth of their doctrines. They
introduced the Master, from whom they professed
to have received those doctrines, as telling them
that they were ' sent forth as sheep in the midst
of wolves ; that they should be delivered up to
councils, and scourged in synagogues ; that they
should be hated of all men for his name's sake ;'
that ' the brother should deliver up the brother
to death, and the father the child ;' and that ' he
who took not up his cross and followed him was
not worthy of him.' The very system of religion,
therefore, which they invented and resolved to
impose upon mankind, was so contrived that
the worldly prosperity of its first preachers, and
even their exemption from persecution, was in-
compatible with its success. Had these clear
predictions of the author of that religion, under
whom the apostles and evangelists acted only as
ministers, not been verified, all mankind must
have instantly perceived that their claim to in-
spiration was groundless, and that Christianity
was a scandalous and impudent imposture. All
this the apostles could not but foresee when
they formed their plan for deluding the world.
Whence it follows that, when they resolved to
support their pretended revelation by an appeal
C04
SCRIPTURE.
to forged miracles, they wilfully, and with theii
eyes open, exposed themselves to inevitable mi-
sery, whether they should succeed or fail in their
enterprise ; and that they concerted their measures
in such a manner as not to admit a possibility
of recompense to themselves, either in this life or
in that which is to come. But if there be a law oi
oatuie, for the reality of which we have better
evidence than we have for others, it is, ' that no
man can choose misery for its own sake,' or make
the acquisition of it the ultimate end of all his
pursuits. The existence of other laws of nature
we know by testimony and our own observation
of the regularity of their effects. The existence
of this law is made known to us not only by
these means, but also by the still clearer and
more conclusive evidence of every man's own
consciousness. Thus, then, do miracles force
themselves upon our assent in every possible
view which we can take of this interesting subject.'
I. Of the Pentateuch. — The Pentateuch con-
sists of the five books of Moses. Some of the
strongest arguments in support of the authenti-
city of the Pentateuch, and inspiration of the
writer, have been already given. But we shall
present two arguments of a different kind, which
would be sufficient to prove at least the former
of these conclusions, from the language and con-
tents of the Mosaic writings, and from the testi-
mony of the other books of Scripture.
From the contents and language of the Pen-
tateuch there arises a very strong presumption
that Moses was its author. The very mode of
writing in the last four books discovers an author
contemporary with the events which he relates ;
every description, both religious and political,
is a proof that the writer was present at each
scene ; and the legislative and historical parts
are so interwoven with each other that neither
of them could have been written by a man who
lived in a later age. Dr. Marsh justly observes,
that the account given in the book of Exodus
of the conduct of Pharaoh towards the children
of Israel, is such as might be expected from a
writer who was not only acquainted with the
country at large, but had frequent access to the
court of its sovereign ; and the minute geogra-
phical description of the passage through Arabia
is such as could have been given only by a
' man like Moses, who had spent forty years in
the land of Midian. The language itself is a
proof of its high antiquity, which appears partly
from the great simplicity of the style, and partly
from the use of archaisms or antiquated expres-
sions, which in the days even of David and So-
lomon were obsolete. For instance XVI ille, and
*\J?J p'uer, which are used in both genders by no
other writer than Moses. See Gen. xxiv. 14.
16. 28. 55. 57; xxxviii. 21. 25. But a strong
argument, to show that the Pentateuch was writ-
ten by a man born and educated in Egypt, is
the use of Egyptian words ; words which never
were, nor ever could have been, used by a native
of Palestine ; and it is a remarkable circumstance
that the very same thing which Moses had ex-
pressed by a word that is pure Egyptian, Isaiah,
as might be expected from his birth and educa-
tion, has expressed by a word that is purely He-
brew. For instance, iflK, written by the Seventy
ijX« or ax«, Gen. xli. 2, and PQn, written by
the Seventy 2u3»j or S»/3*c- See La Croze Lexi-
con .'Egyptiacum, art. AXI and eHBI. The
same thing which Moses expressed by ^HX, Gen.
xli. 2 ; Isaiah (xix. 7) expresses by r\OJ?, for t!ie
Seventy have translated both of these words by
That Moses was the author of the Pentateuch
is proved also from the evidence of testimony.
We shall seek no authority but that of the suc-
ceeding sacred books themselves, which bear in-
ternal evidence that they were written in different
ages, and therefore could not be forged, unless
we were to adopt the monstrous opinion that
there was a succession of impostors among the
Jews who united together in the same fraud.
The Jews were certainly best qualified to judge
of the authenticity of their own books. They
could judge of the truth of the facts recorded,
and they could have no interest in adopting a
forgery. Indeed, to suppose a whole nation
combined in committing a forgery, and that this
combination should continue for many hundred
years, would be the most chimerical supposition
that ever entered into the mind of man. Yet we
must make this supposition, if we reject the histo-
rical facts of the Old Testament. No one will
deny that the Pentateuch existed in the time of
Christ and his apostles ; for they not only men-
tion it, but quote it. ' This we admit,' reply the
advocates for the hypothesis which we are now
combating ; ' but you cannot therefore conclude
that Moses was the author ; for there is reason
to believe it was composed by Ezra.' But, un-
fortunately for men of this opinion, both Ezni
and Nehemiah ascribe the book of the law to
Moses. See Ezra hi. 2 ; viii. 14 ; Neh. xiii. 1.
2. The Pentateuch was in the possession of the
Samaritans before the time of Ezra. 3. It ex-
isted in the reign of Amaziah king of Judah,
A. C. 839 years. 4. It was in public use in the
reign of Jehosaphat, A. C. 912; for that virtuous
prince appointed Levites and priests who taught
in Judah, and had the book of the law of the
Lord with them, and went about throughout all
the cities of Judah and taught the people. 5. It
is referred toby David in his dying admonitions
to Solomon. He also makes many allusions to
it in the Psalms, and sometimes quotes it.
There remains therefore only one resource to
those who contend that Moses was not the au-
thor, viz. that it was written in the period which
elapsed between the age of Joshua and that of
David. But the whole history of the Jews
from their settlement in Canaan to the building
of the temple pre-supposes that the book of the
law was written by Moses. 6. We have satis-
factory evidence that it existed in the time of
Joshua. One passage may be quoted where
this fact is stated. The Divine Being makes use
of these words to Joshua : ' Only be thou strong,
and very courageous, that thou inayest observe
to do all according to the law which Moses my
servant commanded thee. This book of the law
shall not depart out of thy mouth,' &c. See
Josh. i. 7, 8 ; viii. 31 ; xxiii. 6. To the fore-
going demonstration objections may be stated.
' We will admit the force of your arguments,
and grant that Moses actually wrote a work
S C H I P T U R E.
605
called the book of the law; but how can we be
certain that it was the very work which is now
current under his name? And, unless you can
show this to be at least probable, your whole
evidence is of no value.' To illustrate the force
or weakness of this objection, let us apply it to
some ancient Greek author, and see whether a
classical scholar would allow it to be of weight.
It is true that the Greek writers speak of Homer
us an ancient and celebrated poet ; it is true also
that they have quoted from the works which they
scribe to him various passages that we find at
present in the Iliad and Odyssey ; yet still there
is a possibility that the poems which were writ-
ten by Homer, and those which we call the
Iliad and Odyssey, were totally distinct produc-
tions.' Now an advocate for Greek literature
would reply to this objection, not with a serious
answer, but with a smile of contempt ; and
would think it beneath him to silence an oppo-
nent who appeared to be deaf to the clearest
conviction. But still more may be said in de-
fence of Moses than in defence of Homer ; for
the writings of the latter were not deposited in
any temple or sacred archive, to secure them
from the devastations of time ; whereas the copy
of the book of the law, as written by Moses, was
intrusted to the priests and the elders, preserved
in the ark of the covenant, and read to the people
every seventh year. Dent. xxxi. 9 — 11; 14 —
26. Sufficient care therefore was taken not only
for the preservation of the original record, but
that no spurious production should be substi-
tuted in its stead. And that no spurious pro-
duction ever has been substituted in the stead of
the original composition of Moses, appears from
the evidence both of the Greek and the Samaritan
Pentateuch. For as these agree with the Hebrew,
except in some trifling variations (see London
Polyglot, vol. vi. p. 19), to which every work is
exposed by length of time, it is absolutely cer-
tain that the five books which we now ascribe
to Moses are one and the same work with that
which was translated into Greek in the time of
the Ptolemies, and, what is of still greater im-
portance, with that which existed in the time of
Solomon. And as the Jews could have had no
motive whatsoever, during that period which
elapsed between the age of Joshua and that of
Solomon, for substituting a spurious production
instead of the original as written by Moses, and,
even had they been inclined to attempt the im-
posture, would have been prevented by the care
which had been taken by their lawgiver, we
must conclude that our present Pentateuch is
the very identical work that was delivered by
Moses.
II. Of (lie historical Imiiks of the. Old Testa-
ment.— The positive evidence being now pro-
duced, we shall endeavour to answer some
particular objections that have been urged.
Most of these occur in the book ofGr.NKsis:
we shall reserve them, therefore, for separate
examination, and here only consider the objec-
tions peculiar to the four last books. They may
be comprised under one head, viz. expressions
and passages' in these books which could not
have been written "by Moses. 1. The account
'/f the death of Mo^es, in tho hist chapter of
Deuteronomy, we allow must have been added
by some succeeding writer ; but this can never
prove that the book of Deuteronomy is spurious.
What is more common among ourselves than to
see an account of the life and death of an author
subjoined to his works, without informing us by
whom the narrative was written? 2. It has been
objected that Moses always speaks of himself in
the third person. This is the objection of foolish
ignorance, and therefore scarcely deserves an an-
swer. Such persons have never read Caesar's
Commentaries, where the author uniformly speaks
of himself in the third person, as writers of the
most correct taste will often do ; who reflects
on the absurdity of employing the- pronoun of
the first person in a work intended to be read
long after his death. 3. As to the objection that
in some places the text is defective, as in Exo-
dus xv. 8, it is not directed against the author,
but against some transcriber; for what is want-
ing in the Hebrew is inserted in the Samaritan
text. 4. The only other objection that deserves
notice is made from two passages. It is said in
one place that the bed of Og is at llamah to this
day; and in another (Deut. iii. 14) ' Jair the
son of Manasseh took all the country of Argob
into the coasts of Geshuri and Maacathi, and
called them after his own name, Bashan-havoth-
jair, unto this day.' The last clause in both
these passages could not have been written by
Moses; but it was probably placed in the mar-
gin by some transcriber by way of explanation
and was afterwards by mistake inserted in the
text. Whoever doubts the truth of this asser-
tion rnay have recourse to the MSS. of the Greek
Testament, and he will find that the spurious
additions in the texts of some MSS. are actually
written in the margin of others.
That the Pentateuch, therefore, at least the
four last books of it, was written by Moses, we
have very satisfactory evidence ; which, indeed,
at the distance of 3000 years, is wonderful, and
which cannot be affirmed of any profane history
written at a much later period. But the book
of Genesis was evidently not written by a person
who was contemporary with the facts which he
records ; for it contains the history of 2369 years,
a period comprehending almost twice as many
years as all the rest of the historical books of
the Old Testament put together. Moses has
been acknowledged as the author of this book
by all the ancient Jews and Christians; but it
has been a matter of dispute from what source
he derived his materials ; some affirming that
all the facts were revealed by inspiration, and
others maintaining that he procured them from
tradition.
Some, who pretend to be profound philoso-
phers, have rejected many parts of the book of
Genesis as fabulous and absurd ; but it cannot
be the wisdom of philosophy, but the vanity of
ignorance, that could lead to such an opinion.
In fact, the book of Genesis affords a key to
many difficulties in philosophy, which cannot
otherwise be explained. It has been supposed
that the diversities among mankind prove that
they are not descended from one pair; but it
has been fully shown that all these diversities
may be accounted for by natural causes It la»
606
SCRIPTURE.
been reckoned a great difficulty to explain how
fossil shells were introduced into the bowels of
the earth ; but the deluge explains this fact better
than all the romantic theories of philosophers.
See DELUGE. It is impossible to account for
the origin of such a variety of language in a
more satisfactory manner than is done in the
account of the confusion of tongues which took
place at Babel. It would be no easy matter to
show why the sea of Sodom is so different from
every other sea on the globe which has yet been
explored, if we had not possessed the scriptural
account of the miraculous destruction of Sodom
and Gomorrah. It is saturated with bitumen
and salt, and contains few or no fishes. These
are very singular facts, which have been fully
established by late travellers. The book of
Genesis, too, has been treated with contempt,
because it makes the world less ancient than is
necessary to support the theories of modern phi-
losophers, and because it is difficult to reconcile
the chronologies of several nations with the opi-
nion that the world is not above 6000 or 7000
years old. The Chaldeans, in the time of Cicero,
reckoned up 470,000 years. The Egyptians
pretend that they have records extending 50,000
years back ; and the Hindoos go beyond all
bounds of probability, carrying back their chro-
nology, according to Halhed, more than 7,000,000
of years.
An attempt was formerly made by M. Bailly,
mayor of Paris, to reconcile these magnified
calculations with the chronology of the Septua-
gint, which is justly preferred to the Hebrew.
See SCPTUAGINT. He affirms that the Hindoos,
as well as the Chaldeans and Egyptians, had
years of arbitrary determination ; as for instance
months of fifteen days, and years of sixty days,
or two months. A month is a night and a day
of the patriarchs ; a year is a night and a day of
the gods ; 4000 years of the gods are as many
hundred years of men. By attention to such
modes of computation, the age of the world will
be found very nearly the same in the writings of
Moses and in the calculations and traditions of
the Brahmins. With these also we have a re-
markable coincidence with the Persian chrono-
logy. Bailly has established these remarkable
epochas from the creation to the deluge. The
Septuagint gives 2256 years ; the Chaldeans
2222 ; the Egyptians 2340 ; the Persians 2000 ;
the Hindoos 2000; the Chinese 2300. The
same author attempts to show the singular coin-
cidence of the age of the world as given by four
distinct and distantly situated people. The
ancient Egyptians make it 5544 years ; the
Hindoos 5502 ; the Persians 5501 ; the Jews,
according to Josephus, 5555.
Having made these remarks, to show that the
facts recorded in Genesis are not inconsistent
with truth, we shall now, by a few observations,
confirm the evidence, from testimony, that Moses
was the author, and answer the objections that
seem strongest. There arises a great probability,
from the book of Genesis itself, that the author
lived near the time of Joseph ; for, as we ad-
vance towards the end of that book, the facts
jradually become more minute. The materials
of the antediluvian history are very scanty. The
account of Abraham is more complete; but the
history of Jacob and his family is still more
fully detailed. This is indeed the case with
every history. In the early part the relation is
very short and general ; but, when the historian
approaches his own time, his materials accumu-
late. It is certain too that the book of Genesis
must have been written before the rest of the
Pentateuch ; for the allusions in the last four
books to the history of Abraham, of Isaac, and
of Jacob, are very frequent. The simplicity of
the style shows it to be one of the most ancient
of the sacred books ; and perhaps its similarity
to the style of Moses would determine a critic to
ascribe it to him. It will be allowed that no
man was better qualified than Moses to com-
pose the history of his ancestors. He was
learned in all the wisdom of the Egyptians, the
most enlightened nation of his time, and he had
the best opportunities of obtaining accurate in-
formation. The short account of the antedilu-
vian world could easily be remembered by
Abraham, who might obtain it from Shem, who
was his contemporary. To Shem it might be
conveyed by Methuselah, who was 340 years old
when Adam died. From Abraham to Moses, the
interval was less than 400 years. The splendid
promises made to that patriarch would certainly
be carefully communicated to each generation,
with the concomitant facts ; and thus the history
might be conveyed to Moses by the most dis-
tinguished persons, and through very few hands.
The accounts respecting Jacob and his son
Joseph might be given to Moses by his grand-
father Kohath, who must have been born long
before the descent to Egypt ; and Kohath might
have heard all the facts respecting Abraham and
Isaac from Jacob himself. Thus we can easily
point out how Moses might derive the materials
of the book of Genesis, and especially of tK..
last thirty-eight chapters, from the most authentic
source.
But 1. It is objected that the author of the
two first chapters of Genesis must have lived in
Mesopotamia, as he discovers a knowledge of
the rivers that watered paradise, of the cities of
Babylon, Erech, Resen, and Calneh ; of the
gold of Pison ; of the bdellium and onyx stone.
But if he could not derive this knowledge from
the wisdom of the Egyptians, which is far from
being improbable, he might surely obtain it by
tradition from Abraham, who was born and
brought up beyond the Euphrates. 2. In Gene-
sis xiv. 14 it is said, Abraham pursued the four
confederate kings to Dan, yet that name was not
given till after the conquest of Palestine.
(Judges xviii. 22.) We answer this might be
inserted by a transcriber: but such a supposi-
tion is not necessary ; for, though we are told
in the book of Judges that a city originally
called Laish received then the name of Dan,
this does not prove that Laish was the same cit\
with the Dan which is mentioned in Genesis.
The same answer may be given to the objection
which is brought from Genesis xxxv. 21, where
the tower of Edar is mentioned, which the ob-
jectors say was the name of a tower over one of
the gates of Jerusalem. But the tower of Edar
signifies the tower of the flocks, which in lh«
SCRIPTURE.
607
pastoral country of Canaan might be a very
common name. 3. The most formidable objec-
tion perhaps is derived from these two passages,
Gen. xii. 6 : — ' And the Canaanite was then in
the land.' Gen. xxxvi. 31: — 'These are the
kings that reigned over the land of Edoin, before
there reigned any king over the children of Is-
rael.' Now it is certain that neither of these
passages could be written by Moses. We allow
they were added by a later writer; but this cir-
cumstance cannot invalidate the evidence which
has been already produced. It does not prove
that Moses was not the author of the book of
Genesis, but only that this book has received two
additions or interpolations since his death. Ac-
cording to Rivet, our Saviour and his apostles
have cited twenty-seven passages verbatim from
the book of Genesis, and have made thirty-eight
allusions to the sense.
The book of EXODUS contains the history of
the Israelites for about 145 years. It gives an
account of the slavery of the Israelites in Egypt;
of the miracles by which they were delivered, of
their passage through the Red Sea, and journey
through the wilderness ; of the solemn promulga-
tion of the decalogue on Mount Sinai, and of the
building and furniture of the Tabernacle. This
book is cited by David, by Daniel, and other
sacred writers. Twenty-five passages are quoted
by our Saviour and his apostles in express
words, and they make up nineteen allusions to
the sense.
The book of LEVITICUS contains the history
of the Israelites for one month. It consists
chiefly of laws. Indeed, properly speaking, it
is the code of the Jewish ceremonial and politi-
cal laws. It describes the consecration of Aaron
and his sons, the daring impiety and exemplary
punishment of Nadab and Abihu. It contains
also some predictions respecting the punishment
of the Israelites in case of apostasy ; and contains
an assurance that every sixth year should pro-
duce abundance to support them during the
seventh or sabbatical year. This book is quoted
as the production of Moses in several books of
Scripture.
The book of NUMBERS comprehends the his-
tory of the Israelites for about thirty-eight years,
reckoning from the first day of the second
month after their departure from Egypt. It
contains an account of two numberines of the
people ; the first in the beginning of the second
year of their emigration, the second in the plains
of Moab towards the conclusion of their journey
in the wilderness. It describes the ceremonies
employed at the consecration of the tabernacle ;
gives an exact journal of the marches and en-
campments of the Israelites ; relates the appoint-
ment of the seventy elders, the miraculous cure
performed by the brazen serpent, and the mis-
conduct of Moses when he was commanded to
bring water from the rock. There is also added
an account of the death of Aaron, of the con-
quest of Sihon and Og, and the story of Balaam,
with his celebrated prophecy concerning the
Messiah. The book of Numbers is quoted as
the work of Moses in several parts of Scripture.
The book of DEUTERONOMY comprehends a
period of about two months. It consists of an
interesting address to the Israelites, in which
Moses recals to their remembrance the many
instances of divine favor which they had ex-
perienced, and reproaches them for their ingrati-
tude. He lays before them, in a compendious
form, the laws which he had formerly delivered,
and makes some explanatory additions. This
was the more necessary, because the Israelites,
to whom they had been originally promulgated,
and who had seen the miracles in Egypt, at the
Red Sea, and Mount Sinai, had died in the wil-
derness. The divine origin of these laws, and
the miracles by which they were sanctioned,
must already have been well known to them ;
yet a solemn recapitulation of these by the man
who had miraculously fed the then present ge-
neration from their infancy, who, by the lifting
up of his hands, had procured them victory in
the day of battle, and who was going to leave
the world to give an account of his conduct to
the God of Israel, could not but make a deep
and lasting impression on the minds of all who
heard him. He inculcates these laws by the
most powerful motives. He presents before
them the most animating rewards, and de-
nounces the severest punishments to the re-
bellious. The prophecies of Moses towards the
end of this book, concerning the fate of the
Jews, their dispersions and calamities, the con-
quest of Jerusalem by the Romans, the miseries
of the besieged, and the present state of the
Jewish nation, cannot be read without astonish-
ment. They are perspicuous and minute, and
have been literally accomplished. This book is
cited as the production of Moses by Christ and
his apostles, Matt. iv. 4, John i, 45, Sec.
The other historical books of the Old Testa-
ment are twelve in number, Joshua, Judges,
Ruth, I. and II. Samuel, I. and II. Kings, I.
and II. Chronicles, Ezra, Nehemiah, Esther.
These, if considered distinctly from the Penta-
teuch, and the writings more properly styled
prophetical, contain a compendium of the Jewish
history from the death of Moses, A. M. 2552, to
the reformation established by Nehemiah after
the return from the captivity, A. M. 3595, com-
prehending a period of 1043 years.
To enable us to discover the' authors of these
books, we have no guide but conjecture, internal
evidence, or the authority of the modern Jews.
From the frequent references in Scripture, and
from the testimony of Josephus, it appears that
the Jews were in possession of many historical
records which might have thrown much light
upon this subject if they had been preserved
But during the calamities which befel that infa-
tuated nation in their wars with the Romans,
and the dispersion which followed, these writings
have perished. But though we can produce no
testimony more ancient than the age of our
Saviour to authenticate the historical books, yet
there are some facts respecting the mode of their
preservation which entitle them to credit. The
very circumstance itself, that the Jews have pre-
served them in the sacred volume to this day,
while their other ancient books have been lost,
is a proof that they considered them as the
genuine records of their nation. Josephus,
whose authority ;« of great importance, informs
608
SCRIPTURE.
us, in his treatise against Apion, that it was the
peculiar province of the prophets and priests to
commit to writing the annals of the nation, and
to preserve them to posterity. That these might
be faithfully preserved, the sacerdotal function
was made hereditary, and the greatest care was
observed to prevent intermarriages either with
foreigners or with the other tribes. No man
could officiate as a priest who could not prove
his descent in a right line by unquestionable
evidence. Ezra ii. 61, 62. Registers were
kept in Jerusalem, which at the end of every
war were regularly revised by the surviving
priests ; and new ones were then composed. As
a proof that this has been faithfully performed,
Josephus adds that the names of all the Jewish
priests, in an uninterrupted succession from
father to son, had been registered for 2000 years ;
that is, from the time of Aaron to the age of
Josephus. The national records were not al-
lowed to be written by any man who might think
himself fit for the office; and, if the priest falsi-
fied them, he was excluded from the altar and
deposed from his office. Thus, we 'are assured,
the Jewish records were committed to the charge
of the priests; and, as they may be considered
as the same family from Aaron to the Babylonish
captivity and downwards, the same credit is due
to them that would be due to family records,
which by antiquarians are esteemed the most
authentic sources of information.
Of the twenty-two books which Josephus
reckoned himself bound to believe, the histo-
rical books from the death of Moses to the reign
of Artaxerxes, he informs us, were written by
contemporary prophets. It appears, then, that
the prophets were the composers, >nd the priests
the hereditary keepers of the national records.
Thus, the best provision possible was made that
they should be written accurately, and be pre-
served uncorrupted. The principal office of these
prophets was to instruct the' people in their duty
to God, and occasionally to communicate the
predictions of future events. For this purpose
they were educated in the schools of the pro-
phets, or in academies where sacred learning
was taught. The prophets were therefore the
learned men of their time, and consequently
were best qualified for the office of historians,
it may be objected that the prophets, in concert
with the priests, might have forged any writings
they pleased. But, before we suspect that they
have done so in the historical books of the Old
Testament, we must find out some motive which
could induce them to commit so daring a crime.
But this is impossible. No encomiums are
made either upon the prophets or the priests;
no adulation to the reigning monarch appears,
nor is the favor of the populace courted. The
faults of all ranks are delineated without reserve.
Indeed there is no history extant that has more
the appearance of impartiality. We are pre-
sented with a simple detail of facts, and are left
to discover the motives and intentions of the se-
veral characters ; and, when a character is drawn,
it is done in a few words, without exaggerating
•he vices or amplifying the virtues of the person.
It is of no real consequence, therefore, whe-
tner we can ascertain the authors of the different
books or not. From Josephus we know that
they existed in his time ; ami, from his account
of the manner in which they were preserved, we
are assured they were not in danger of being
corrupted. They existed also when the Septu-
agint translation was made. Frequent references
are made to them in the writings of later pro-
phets ; sometimes the same facts are related in
detail. In short, there is such a coincidence be-
tween the historical books and the writings of
those prophets who were contemporary, that it
is impossible to suppose the latter true without
receiving the former. Indeed, to suppose that
the Jews could have received and preserved
with such care for so many hundred years false
records, which it must have been in the power
of every person to' disprove, and which at the
same time do so little credit to the character of
their nation, is to suppose one of the greatest
absurdities in the world : it is to suppose that a
whole nation could act contrary to all those prin-
ciples which have always predominated in the
human mind, and which must always predo-
minate till human nature undergo a total revo-
lution.
The book which immediately follows the Pen-
tateuch has been generally ascribed td Joshua,
the successor of Moses. It contains, however,
some things which must have been inserted after
the death of Joshua. There is some accidental
derangement in the order of the chapters of this
book which was probably occasioned by the an-
cient mode of fixing together a number of rolls.
If chronologically placed, they should be read
thus, first chapter to the tenth verse ; then the
second chapter ; then from the tenth verse to the
end of the first chapter ; afterwards should fol-
low the sixth, seventh, eighth, ninth, tenth, and
eleventh chapters ; then the twenty-second ; and
lastly the- twelfth and thirteenth chapters to the
twenty-fourth verse of the latter. The facts
mentioned in this book are referred to by many
of the sacred writers. See 1 Chron. ii. 7, xii. 15 ;
Psal. cxiv. 3 ; Isa. xxviii. 22 ; Acts vii. 45 ;
Heb. xi. 31, xiii. 5; James ii. 25. 28. In the
book of Kings, xvi. 34, the words of Joshua
are said to be the words of God. See JOSHUA.
By whom the book of JUDGES was written is
uncertain ; but, as it contains the history of the
Jewish republic for 317 years, the materials must
have been furnished by different persons. The
book, however, seems to be the composition of
one individual who lived in the reign of Saul,
and before the accession of David : for it is said,
in chap i. ver. 21, that the Jebusites were still in
Jerusalem ; who, we know, were dispossessed of
that city early in the reign of David, 2 Sam. v.
6. 8. We have reason, therefore, to ascribe this
book to Samuel. The history of this book may
be divided into two parts ; the first contains an
account of the Judges from Othniel to Sampson,
ending at the sixteenth chapter. The second
part relates several remarkable transactions which
occurred soon after the death of Joshua ; but are
thrown to the end of the book, that they might
not interrupt the course of the history. See
JUDCI I.
The book of 1'n a ,> a kind of supplement
to the book of Judges, and an introduction to
SCRIPTURE.
609
the history of David, as it is related in the books
of Samuel. Since the genealogy which it con-
tains descends to David, it must have been
written after the birth of that prince, but not at
any considerable time after it ; for the history of
Boaz and Ruth, the great-grandfather and great-
grandmother of David, could not be remembered
above two or three generations. As the elder
brothers of David and their sons are omitted,
and none of his own children are mentioned in
the genealogy, it is evident that the book was
composed in honor of the Hebrew monarch,
after he was anointed king by Samuel, and be-
fore any of his children were born ; and conse-
quently in the reign of Saul. The Jews ascribe
it to Samuel ; and indeed there is no person of
that age to whom it may be attributed with more
propriety. See SAMUEL. We are informed
(1 Sam. x. 25) that Samuel was a writer, and
are assured that no person in the reign of Saul
was so well acquainted with the splendid pros-
pects of David as the prophet Samuel.
The Greeks denominate the books of SAMUEL,
which follow next in order, The books of King-
doms ; and the Latins, The books of Kings I.
and II. Anciently there were but two books of
Kings; the first was the two books of Samuel,
and the second was what we now call the two
books of Kings. According to the present divi-
sion, these two books are four, viz. the first and
second books of Samuel, and the first and se-
cond books of Kings. Concerning the author
of the two books of Samuel there are different
opinions. Some think that Samuel wrote only
twenty or twenty-four chapters of the first book,
and that the history was continued by Nathan
and Gad. This opinion they ground on the
following passage in 1 Chron. xxix. 29 : ' Now
tl»e acts of David the king, first and last, behold
they are written in the book of Samuel the seer,
and in the book of Nathan the prophet, and
Gad the seer.' Others think they were compiled
by Ezra from ancient records ; but it is evident
that the books of Samuel were written before
the books of Kings and Chronicles ; for in the
latter many circumstances are taken from the for-
mer. The first book carries down the history of
the Israelites from the birth of Samuel to the
fatal battle of Gilboa, comprehending a period
of about eighty years. The second relates the
history of David, from his succession to the
throne of Israel, till within a year or two of his
death, containing forty years. There are two
beautiful passages in these books, which every
man of sentiment and taste must feel and admire,
the lamentation or elegy on Saul and Jonathan,
and the parable of Nathan. The impartiality
of the historian is fully attested, by the candor
and freedom with which the actions of Saul and
David are related. There are some remarks in-
terspersed, which were probably added by Ezra.
When the two books of KINGS were written,
or by whom they were compiled, is uncertain.
Some have supposed that David, Solomon, and
Hezekiah, wrote the history of their own times.
But this seems not probable, as their crimes and
vices are so particularly recorded. Others have
been of opinion that the prophets, viz. Gad, Na-
»han, Isaiah, and Jeremiah, wrote each the his-
Voi.. XIX.
tory of the reign m which he lived, which ap
pears much more probable. But it is generally
believed that Ezra wrote these two books, and
published them in the form in which we have
them at present. There can be no doubt but
the prophets drew up the lives of the kings who
reigned in their times ; for the names and writ-
ings of those prophets are frequently mentioned,
and cited. Still, however, it is evident that the
two books of Kings are but an abridgment of a
larger work, the substance of which is contained
in the books before us. In support of the opi-
nion that Ezra is the author of these books, it is
said that in the time of the penman, the ten
tribes were captives in Assyria, whither they had
been carried as a punishment for their sins :
That in the second of these books the author
makes some reflections on the calamities of Israel
and Judah, which demonstrate that he lived after
that event. But to this it is objected that the
author of these books expresses himself through-
out as a contemporary, and as one would have
done who had been an eye and ear witness of
what he related. To this objection it is answer-
ed that Ezra compiled these books from the
prophetic writings which he had in his posses-
sion ; that he copied them exactly, narrating the
facts in order as they happened, and interspersed
in his history some reflections and remarks aris-
ing from the subjects which he handled. The
first book comprises a period of 126 years, from
the death of David to that of Jehoshaphat. The
second book records the transactions of the suc-
ceeding kings of Judah and Israel for about 300
years, from the death of Jehoshaphat to the de-
struction of Jerusalem and the temple, A. M
3416, A.C. 588.
The Hebrews style the two books of CHRO-
NICLES, Deberi Imim, i. e. Words of days, jour-
nals or diaries, in allusion to those ancient jour-
nals which appear to have been kept among the
Jews. The Greeks call them HapaXinrop.(i>a,
Paralipomena, which signifies things omitted ;
as if these two books were a kind of supple-
ment, to inform us of what had been omitted or
too much abridged in the books of Kings. The
two books of Chronicles contain indeed several
particulars which are not to be met with in the
other books of Scripture : but it is not therefore
to be supposed that they are the records of the
kings of Judah and Israel, so often referred to in
the books of Kings. Those ancient registers
were apparently much more copious than these
books ; and the compiler of the books of Chro-
nicles often refers to them, and makes extracts
from them.
Some suppose that the author of these two
books was the same with that of the two books
of Kings. The Jews say that they were written
by Ezra, after the return from the captivity, as-
sisted by Zechariah and Haggai, who were then
alive. But events are mentioned in them of so
late a date as to show that he could not have
written them in their present form ; and there is
another objection to his being their author, which
is little less forcible : between the books of
Kings and Chronicles there is a great number of
variations both in dates and facts, which could
not have happened if Ezra had been the author
2 R
610
S C R I P T U R !•:.
of them, or indeed if they had been the work of
any one person. The books of Chronicles are
not to be considered merely as an abridgment of
former histories with some useful additions, but
as books written witli a particular view ; which
seems to have been to furnish a genealogical re-
gister of the twelve tribes, deduced from the
earliest times ; to point out those distinctions
which were necessary to discriminate the mixed
multitude that returned from Babylon ; to ascer-
tain the lineage of .hid ah; and tore-establish on
their ancient footing the pretensions and func-
tions of each individual tribe.
The books of EZRA and NEIIKMIAII '>re attri-
buted by the ancients to the former of these pro-
phets; and they called them the first and second
books of Esdras ; which title is still kept up by
ihe Latin church. It is indeed highly probable
that the former of these books, which comprises
the history of the Jews, from the time that Cyrus
made the decree for their return until the twen-
tieth year of Artaxerxes Longimanus (which
was about 100 years, or as others think seventy-
nine years), was all composed by Ezra, except
the first six chapters, which contain an account
of the first return of the Jews upon the decree
of Cyrus ; whereas Ezra did not return till the
time of Artaxerxes. It is of this second return
therefore that he writes the account ; and adding
it to the other, which he found ready composed
to his hand, he made it a complete history of the
Jewish restoration. This book is written in
Chaldee from chap. iv. 8 to chap. vii. 27. As
this part of the work chiefly contains letters, con-
versations, and decrees expressed in that lan-
guage, the fidelity of the historian has probably
induced him to take down the very words which
were used. The people, too, had been accus-
tomed to the Chaldee during the captivity, and
probably understood it better than Hebrew ; for
it appears Cro;;; Ni'iicininii's account, chap. viii.
2. 8, that all could not understand the law.
The book of NEHEMIAII bears, in the Latin
bibles, the title of the second book of Esdras ; tl>e
ancient canons likewise gave it the same name, be-
cause, perhaps, it was considered as a sequel to the
book of Ezra. In the Hebrew Bibles it has the
name of Ne'hemiah prefixed to it ; which name
:s retained in the English Bible. But, though
.nat chief is by the writer of the second book of
Maccabees affirmed to have been the author of
it, there cannot, we think, be a doubt, but that
either it was written at a later period, or had
additions made to it after Nehemiah's death.
With the books of Nehemiah and Esther tin;
history of the Old Testament concludes. This
is supposed to have taken place about A. M.
3574. A. C. 434. But Prideaux with more
probability has fixed it at A. M. 3595. See
NEHEMIAH.
It is uncertain who was the author of the book
of ESTHER. Clement of Alexandria, and many
commentators, have ascribed it to Mordecai ;
and the book itself seems to favor this opinion ;
for we are told, in chap. ix. 20, that ' Mordecai
wrote these things.' Others have supposed that
Ezra was the author ; but the more probable
opinion of the Talmudists is that the great syna-
gogue (See SYNAGOGUE), to perpetuate the me-
mory of the deliverance of the Jews from the
conspiracy of Haman, and to account for the
origin of the feast of Purim, ordered this book
to be composed very likely of materials left by
Mordecai, and afterwards approved and admitted
it into the sacred canon. The time when the
events which it relates happened, is supposed
by some to have been in the reign of Artaxerxes
Longimanus, and by others in that of Darius
the son of Hystaspes, called by the sacred pen-
man Ahasuerus. See AHASUERUS.
The following TABLE exhibits the Contemporary Reigns of the respective Kings of JUDAH and
ISRAEL, and will assist in reading the Historical Books.
A.M.
3029
3046
3049
3050
3051
3074
3075
3086
3090
3106
3108
3112
3119
3120
3126
3148
3163
3165
3179
3194
:5231
3232
3243
Judah.
Rehoboam
Abijam
Asa
Jehoshaphat
Jehoram, or Joram
Aha/.iali
Athaliah
.I oash
Jeroboam
Nadab
BaastiD
Elah
/iinn
Omri
Ahab
Israel.
Ante A. 1).
975
958
955
954
953
930
929
Ahaziah
Jehoram, or- Joram
Jehu
Amaziah
A/ariah, or I 'zciah
Jehoaha/.
Jehoash, or Joash
Jeroboam II.
Zachariah
Shallum
iMenahem
Pekahial.
761
Judah.
3-2G2
3264
3254
3258
3283
3306
3326
3361
3363
3394
3398
3405
3416
Jotham
Ahaz
Hezekiah
SCRIPTURE.
Israel.
Pekan
First captivity of Israel by Tiglath Pileser
An interregnum
Hoshea
Manasseh
Amon
Josiah
Tehoahaz
Jehoiakim
First captivity of Judah
Jehoiachin, Coniah, or Jeconiah
Second Captivity of Judah
Zedekiah
Third and final captivity
Second captivity, by Shalmanese:
Third captivity, by Esar-haddon
III. — Of the Hagiographa. — The third general
division of the books of the Old Testament,
among the Jews, according to Josephus, was
the Hagiographa, or Holy Writings ; which,
however, are generally ranked second in order
in all modern bibles. This comprehends the
books of Job, Psalms, Proverbs, Ecclesiastes,
and the Song of Solomon.
Concerning the author of the book of JOB,
there are many different opinions. Some have
supposed that Job himself wrote it in Syriac or
Arabic, and that it was afterwards translated by
Moses. Others have thought that Elihu wrot'e
it ; and by others it is ascribed to Moses, to
Solomon, to Isaiah, and to Ezra. To give even an
abridgment of the arguments brought in sup-
port of these various opinions would fill a vo-
lume, and at last leave the reader in uncertainty.
The most able summary of these opinions is to
be found in the worK of Dr. M. Good on Job.
The writer of this article is decidedly of opinion,
that Elihu was the author. He is the only one
of Job's four friends who incurred no reproof.
He listened with attention to them all, and at last
delivered his opinion ; and it is therefore highly
probable, that he drew up the narrative of the
whole. See ELIHU ; and Job, xxxii. 15, 16,
where he seems to speak of himself as the writer.
The book of Job, by whomsoever it was writ-
-en, has been always esteemed a portion of canoni-
cal scripture, and is one of the most sublime
compositions in the sacred volume. It appears
to stand single and unparalleled in the sacred
volume, having apparently little connexion with
the other writings of the Hebrews, and no rela-
tion whatever to the affairs of the Israelites.
The scene is laid in Idumea ; the history of an
inhabitant of that country is the basis of the
narrative ; the characters who speak are Idumeans,
or at least Arabians of the adjacent country, all
originally of the race of Abraham. The language
is pure Hebrew, although the author appears to
be an Idumean ; for it is not improbable that all
the posterity of Abraham, Israelites, Idumeans,
and Arabians, whether of the fa'mily of Sarah,
Keturah, or Isr-naei, spoke for a considerable
length of time one common language. That
the Idumaearis, howpver, and the Tcmanites in
606
599
588
particular, were eminent for the reputation of
wisdom, appears by the testimony of the prophets
Jeremiah and Obadiah. (Jer. xlix. 7, Ob. 8.)
Baruch also particularly mentions them among
1 the authors (or expounders) of fables, and search-
ers out of understanding.' Chap. iii. 22, 23.
The principal personage in this poem is Job ;
and in his character is meant to be exhibited (as far
as- is consistent with human infirmity) an exam-
ple of perfect virtue. This is intimated in the
introduction, but is still more eminently dis-
played in his actions and sentiments. He is holy,
devout, and most piously and reverently im-
pressed with the sacred awe of his divine Crea-
tor ; he is also upright, and conscious of his own
integrity ; he is patient of evil, and yet very re-
mote from that insensibility, or rather stupidity,
to which the Stoics pretended. Oppressed, there-
fore, with unparalleled misfortunes, he laments
his misery, and even wishes a release by death ;
in other words, he obeys, and gives place to the
dictates of nature. Irritated, however, by the
unjust insinuations and the severe reproaches of
his pretended friends, he is more vehemently ex-
asperated, and his too great confidence in his own
righteousness leads him to expostulate with God
in terms scarcely consistent with piety and strict
decorum.
The first speech of Job, though it bursts forth
with all the vehemence of passion, consists wholly
of complaint, ' the words and sentiments of a de-
spairing person empty as the wind ; ' which is
indeed the apology that he immediately makes
for his conduct ; intimating that he is far from
presuming to plead with God, far from daring
to call in question the divine decrees, or even to
mention his own innocence in the presence of his
all-just Creator; nor is there any good reason for
the censure which has been passed by some
commentators upon this passage. The poet seems,
with great judgment and ingenuity, to have per-
formed in this what the nature of his work re-
quired, lie has depicted the affliction and an-
guish of Job, as flowing from his wounded heart
in a manner so agreeable to human nature (and
certainly so far venial) that it may be truly said,
' in all this Job sinned not with his lips.' It is,
nevertheless, embellished by *uch affecting ima-
2 K 2
SCRIPTURE.
fiery, and inspired with such A warmth and force
of sentiment, that we find it afforded ample
scope for calumny; nor did the unkind witnesses
of his sufferings permit so fair an opportunity
lo escape. The occasion is eagerly embraced by
Eliphaz to rebuke the impatience of Job ; and,
not satisfied with this, he proceeds to accuse him
in direct terms of wanting fortitude, and ob-
liquely to insinuate something of a deeper dye.
Though deeply hurt with the coarse reproaches
of Eliphaz ; still, however, when Job afterwards
complains of the severity of God, he cautiously
refrains from violent expostulations with his
Creator, and, contented with the simple expres-
sion of affliction, he humbly confesses himself a
sinner. Hence it is evident that those vehement
attestations of his innocence, those murmurs
against the divine Providence, which his tottering
virtue afterwards permits, are to be considered
merely as the consequences of momentary passion,
and not as the ordinary effects of his settled cha-
racter or manner.
The three friends are exactly such characters
as the nature of the poem required. They are
severe, irritable, malignant censors, readily, and
with apparent satisfaction, deviating from the
purposes of consolation into reproof and con-
tumely. Even from the very first they manifest
this evil propensity, and indicate what is to be
expected from them.
The lenity and moderation of Elihu afford a
beautiful contrast to the intemperance and aspe-
rity of the other three. He is pious, mild, and
equitable ; equally free from adulation and se-
verity ; and endued with singular wisdom, which
he attributes entirely to the inspiration of God ;
and his modesty, moderation, and wisdom, are
the more entitled to commendation when we
•consider his youth. As the characters of his de-
tractors were in all respects calculated to inflame
the mind of Job, that of this arbitrator is admi-
rably adapted to sooth and compose it : to this
point the whole drift of the argument tends, and
on this the very purport of it seems to depend.
Another circumstance deserving particular at-
tention, in a poem of this kind, is the sentiment;
which must be agreeable to the subject, and ero-
ttellished with proper expression. It is by Aris-
totle enumerated among the essentials of a
dramatic poem ; not indeed as peculiar to that
species of poetry, tut as common, aiid of the
greatest importance to all. Manners or cha-
racter are essential only to that poetry in which
living persons are introduced; and all such
poems must afford an exact representation of
human manners ; hut sentiment is essential to
every poem, indeed to every composition what-
ever. It respects both persons and things. As
far as it regards persons, it is particularly con-
cerned in the delineation of the manners and
passions ; and those instances to which we have
just been adverting are sentiments expressive of
manners.
The poem of Job abounds chiefly in the more
vehement passions, grief and anger, indignation
and violent contention. It is adapted in every
respect to the incitement of terror ; and is uni-
versally animated with the true spirit of sublimity.
It is, however, not wanting in the gentler affec-
tions. The whole abounds with the most beauti-
ful imagery, and is a most perfect specimen of^
the elegiac. His grief becomes fervent ; hut is
at the same time soft and querimonious. It is
unnecessary to quote instances. The book is in
every body's hands.
The dignity of the style is answerable to that
of the subject ; its force and energy to the great-
ness of those passions which it describes ; and,
as this production excels all the other remains
of the Hebrew poetry in economy and arrange-
ment, so it yields to none in sublimity of style,
and in every grace and excellence of composition.
Among the principal of these, may be accounted
the accurate and perfectly poetical conformation
of the sentences, which is indeed generally most
observable in the most ancient of the poetical
compositions of the Hebrews. Here, however,
as is natural and proper in a poem of so great
length and sublimity, the writer's skill is dis-
played in the proper adjustment of the period,
and in the accurate distribution of the members,
rather than in the antithesis of words, or in any
labored adaptation of the parallelisms.
The chief doctrines of the patriarchal religion,
collected from different parts of this poem by
Drs. Hales and Good, are as follow : —
1. The creation of the world by one Supreme
and Eternal Intelligence. See c. xxxviii. — \li.
2. Its regulation by his perpetual and super-
intending providence. See c. i. 9 — '21 ; ii. 10;
v. 8—27; ix. 4—13.
3. The intentions of his providence carried in-
to effect by the ministrations of a heavenly hier-
archy. See c. i. 6, 7; iii. 18, 19; v. 1.; xxxiii.
22, 23.
4. The heavenly hierarchy, composed of vari-
ous ranks and orders, possessing different names,
dignities, and offices. As obelim, servants ;
malachim, angels ; melizim, intercessors ; me-
mitim, destinies or destroyers ; alep, the chiliad
or thousand ; kedoshim, sancti, the heavenly
saints or hosts generally. See c. iv. 18;- xxxiii.
22, 23 : v. 2 ; xv. 15.
5. An apostasy, or defection, in some rank 01
order of these powers (c. iv. 18; xv. 15), of
which Satan seems to have been one, and per-
haps chief, c. i. 6 — 12 ; ii. 2—7.
6. The good and evil powers or principles
equally formed by the Creator, and hence equal-
ly denominated ' Sons of God ;' both of. them
employed by him in the administration of his
providence ; and both amenable to him at stated
courts, held for the purpose of receiving an ac-
count of their respective missions. See c. i. G,
7; ii. i.
7. A day of future resurrection, judgment, and
retribution to all mankind. See c. xiv. 13 — 15 ;
xix. 25 — 29; xxi. 30; xxxi. 14.
8. The propitiation of the Creator, in the case
of human transgressions, by sacrifices (c. i. .•">,
xlii. 8), and the mediation and intercession of a
righteous person. See c. xlii. 8, 9.
9. The idolatrous worship of the heavenly
bodies, a judicial offence, to be punished by the
judge. See. c. xxxi. 26 — 28.
10. The innate corruption of man; or what is
generally termed ' original sin.' See c. xiv. 4
xv. 14 — 16 ; xxxv. 4.
SCRIPTURE.
fit3
Mr. Good has remarked that nothing can be
more unfortunate for this most excellent compo-
sition than its division into chapters, and espe-
cially such a division as that in common use ; in
which, not only the unity of the general subject,
but in many instances that of a single paragraph,
or even of a single clause, is completely broken
in upon and destroyed. Various are the divi-
sions which have been adopted. Dr. Hales, who
excludes the exordium and conclusion, divides it
into five parts ; but Dr. Good, who justly re-
inarks that these are requisite to the unity vf the
composition, divides it into six. We have then
1. History of Job's character and trials (c. i. —
iii.) 2. First series of conversations or contro-
versy— Eliphaz's address (c. iv. v.) ; Job's
answer (c. vi. vii.) ; Bildad's address (c. viii.) ;
Job's answer (c. ix. x.) ; Zophar's address (c.
xi.); Job's answer (c. xii. — xiv.) 3. Second
series of controversy — Eliphaz's address (c. xv.);
Job's answer (c. xvi. xvii.) ; Bildad's address
(c. xviii.); Job's answer (c. xix.) ; Zophar's ad-
dress (c. xx.) ; Job's answer (c. xxi.). 4. Third
series of controversy — Eliphaz's address (c. xxii.);
Job's answer (c. xxiii. xxiv.) ; Bildad's address
(c. xxv.) ; Job's answer (c. xxvi — xxxk). .5.
Elihu's four speeches to Job (c. xxxii — xxxvii.).
6. Jehovah's first and second address to Job, his
humiliation, and final prosperity, c. xxxviii. —
xlii.
The word PSALMS is a Greek term, and signi-
fies songs. The Hebrews call it n'bnfi ISO,
Seper Tehellim, that is, the Book of Praises ; and
in tre Gospel it is styled the Book of Psalms,
t veneration has always been paid to this
collection of divine songs. The Christian church
has, from the beginning, made them a principal
part of her holy services ; and in the primitive
times it was almost a general rule that every
bishop, presbyter, and religious person, should
have the psalter by heart.
Many learned fathers, and modern writers,
have maintained that David was the author of
them all. Several are of a different opinion, and
insist that David only wrote seventy-two of them,
and that those without titles are to be ascribed
to the authors of the preceding psalms, whose
names are affixed to them. (See DAVID, ASAPH,
&.c.) Those who suppose that David alone was
the author, contend that in the New Testament,
and in the language of the church universal, they
are expressly called the Psalms of David. That
David was the principal author of these hymns,
is universally acknowledged, and therefore the
whole collection may properly enough go under
his name; but that he wrote them all is a palpa-
ble mistake. Nothing certain can be gathered
from the titles of the psalms ; for, although un-
questionably very ancient, yet authors are not
agreed as to their authority, and they differ as
much about their signification. The Hebrew
doctors generally agree that the ninety-second
psalm was composed by Adam : an opinion which,
for many reasons, we are not inclined to adopt.
There seems, however, to be no doubt but that
some of them were written by Moses ; that So-
lomon was the author of the forty-ninth ; and
that others were occasioned by events long pos-
* terior to the flourishing era of the kingdom of
Judah. The 137th particularly "is one of thcwe
which mentions the captivity of Babylon.
Josephus, and most of the ancient writers, as-
sert that the Psalms were composed in numbers :
little, however, respecting the nature and princi-
ples of the Hebrew versification is known.
There existed a certain kind of poetry among the
Hebrews, principally intended, it should seem,
for the assistance of the memory ; in which,
when there was little connexion between the sen-
timents, a sort of order or method was preserved,
by the initial letters of each line or stanza fol-
lowing the order of the alphabet. Of this there
are several examples extant among the sacred
poems (Psalms xxv., xxxiv., xxxvii., cxi., cxii.,
cxix., cxlv. ; Prov. xxxi., from the tenth verse to
the end ; the whole of the Lamentations of Jere-
miah except the last chapter) ; and in these ex-
amples the verses are so exactly marked and de-
fined that it is impossible to mistake them for
prose ; and particularly if we attentively consi-
der the verses, and compare them with one an-
other, since they are in general so regularly ac-
commodated, that word answers to word, and
almost syllable to syllable. The Hebrew poetry
has likewise another property altogether peculiar
to metrical composition. It admits foreign words,
and certain particles which seldom occur in
prose composition, and thus forms a distinct
poetical dialect. One or two of the peculiarities
also of the Hebrew versification are very obser-
vable in those poems in which the verses are de-
fined by the initial letters. The first is that the
verses are very unequal in length ; the shortest
consisting of six or seven syllables ; the longest
extending to about twice that number : the same
poem is, however, generally continued throughout
in verses not very unequal to each other. The
close of the verse generally falls where the mem-
bers of the sentences are divided. The ingeni-
ous Dr. Lowth has, however, with great acute-
ness, examined the peculiarities of Hebrew
poetry, and has arranged them under general
divisions. The correspondence of one verse or
line with another he calls parallelism. When a
proposition is delivered, and a second is sub-
joined to it, equivalent or contrasted with it in
sense, or similar to it in the form of grammatical
construction, these he calls parallel lines; and
the words or phrases answering one to another
in the corresponding lines, parallel terms. Pa-
rallel lines he reduces to three sorts ; parallels
synonymous, parallels antithetic, and parallels
synthetic. For examples we refer to his work.
The following arrangement of the Book of Psalms
will be found useful in reading them. It is from
the Scripture Magazine, vol. iii., but chiefly ex-
tracted from Mr. Townsend, the able author of a
Chronological Arrangement of the Old Testa-
ment.
SCRIPTURE
Numbers.
Authors.
Probable Occasions.
Connexions.
B.C.
88.
90.
9.
11.
59.
56.
34.
142.
17.
52. 109. 35. 140.
64. 31.
54.
57. 58.
63.
141.
139.
68.
132.
105. 106. 96.
2.45.22. 16.118.110.
60. 108.
20. 21.
51.
32. 33. 103.
3.
7.
42.43.55.4. 5. 62. 143.
144.70.71. . . .
18.
30.
91.
1-1.5.
40.41.61.65.69.78.
6.8.19.12.23.2428.29.38
39.86.95.101.104.120.
121.122.124.131.133.
72.
47.97.98.99.100.
135. 136.
82.115.46.
44.
73.75.76.
79. 74. 83. 94.
137.130.80.77.37.67.49
53.50.10.13.14.15.25.
26.27.36.89.92.93.123
102.
126. 85.
107. 87. 111. 112. 113.
114.116.117.125.127.
128. 134
84.66
129.
138.
48.81.146.147.148.149.
150. . . .
Hem an.
Moses.
David.
} ;::
}'•'•'•
Solomon.
Asapli and others.
Hezekiah.
Asaph.
{Asaph, Ethan,
i and others.
Daniel.
Sons of Korah.
> Various.
Sons of Korah.
Ezra or Nehem.
Haggai or Zech.
> Various.
Ezra.
Affliction of Israel in Egypt.
Shortening of man's life.
Victory over Goliath.
Advised to flee to the mountains.
Saul's soldiers surrounding the
town.
With Philistines at Gath.
Leaving the city of Gath.
In the cave of Adullam.
Priests murdered by Doeg.
Persecution by Doeg.
Persecution by Saul.
Treachery of the Ziphites.
Refusal to kill Saul.
Wilderness of Engedi.
Driven out of Judea.
King of all Israel.
First removal of the Ark.
Second removal of the Ark.
Ark taken from Obed-Edom's.
Nathan's prophetic address.
Conquest of Edom by Joab.
War with Ammonites and Sy-
rians.
Confession of adultery and mur-
der.
Pardon and thanksgiving.
His flight from Absalom.
The reproaches of Shimei.
By the Jordan, from Absalom.
Conclusion of his wars.
Dedication of Araunah's thresh-
ing floor.
After his advice to Solomon.
A review of his past life.
Dates and occasions unknown.
At some periods, after his ac-
cession.
The Coronation of Solomon.
Ark removed into the Temple.
Dedication of Solomon's Tem-
ple.
The reign of Jehoshaphut.
Message of Rabshakeh.
Destruction of Sennacherib's
army.
Burning of the Temple at Jeru-
salem.
During the Babylonian Cap-
tivity.
Near the close of that Captivity.
Decree for restoring the Jews.
Israel's return from the Capti-
vity.
Foundation of second Temple.
Opposition of the Samaritans.
Rebuilding of the Temple.
Dedication of the second Tem-
ple.
Manuals of devotion.
Exod. ii. 25.
Numb xiv. 45.
I Sam. xviii.4.
xix. 3.
1 7
1531
1489 ,
1063
1062
xxi. 15.
xxii. 1.
10
xxiii 12.
°3
1061
xxvii. 1.
iChron.xii 4.
2 Sam. vi. 11.
1 Chron. xv. 4.
lChro.xvi.43.
xvii. 27.
1 Kings xi. 20.
2 Sam. x. 19.
xii. 15.
1058
1048
1042
1040
1036
1034
xv 29.
xvi. 14.
xvii. 29.
1023
1019
1017
1015
1 Chro. xxi 30.
xxviii. 10.
xxviii. 21.
xxix. J9.
2 Chro. vii. 10
1004
xx. 26.
2 Kings xix. 7.
10
896
710
Jer. xxxix. 10.
Dan. vii. 28.
Dan. ix. 27.
Ezra i. 4.
iii. 7.
1 *?
588
541—539
538
536
535
534
519
444
iv. 24.
vi. 13.
Zech. viii. 23.
Nehem. xiii. 3
1 and 119.
S C R 1 P T U II E.
616
The book of PROVKRBS lias always been ac-
counted canonical. The Hebrew title of it is
^iPn, Mishli, which signifies similitudes. It
has always been ascribed to Solomon, whose
name it bears, though some have doubted whether
he really was the author of every one of the
naxims which it contains. Those in chapter
xxx. are indeed called the words of Agur, the
son of Jakeh, and the title of the thirty-first or
last chapter is the words of king Lemuel. It
seems certain that the collection called the Pro-
verbs of Solomon was digested in the order in
which we now have it by different hands; but it
is not, therefore, to be concluded that they are
not the work of Solomon. Several persons
might have made collections of them : Hezekiah,
among others, is mentioned c. xxv. Agur and
Ezra might have done the same. From these
several collections the work was compiled which
we have now in our hands.
The book of Proverbs may be considered un-
der five divisions. 1. The first, which is a kind
of preface, extends to the tenth chapter. This
contains general cautions and exhortations for a
teacher to his pupil, expressed in elegant lan-
guage, duly connected in its parts, illustrated
with beautiful description, and well contrived to
engage and interest the attention. 2. The second
part extends from the beginning of c. x. to c.
xxii. 17, and consists of what may strictly and
properly be called proverbs, viz. unconnected
sentences, expressed with much neatness and
simplicity. They are truly, to use the language
of their sage author, ' apples of gold in pictures
of silver.' 3. In the third part, which is included
between c. xxii. 16, and c. xxv., the tutor drops
the sententious style, addresses his pupil as pre-
sent, and delivers his advices in a connected
manner. 4. The Proverbs which are included
between c. xxv. and c. xxx. are supposed to have
been selected by the men of Hezekiah from some
larger collections of Solomon, that is, by the
prophets whom he employed to restore the ser-
vice and writings of the church. Some of the
proverbs which Solomon had introduced into the
former part of the book are here repeated. 5.
The prudent admonitions which Agur delivered
to his pupils Ithiel and Ucal are contained in the
thirtieth chapter, and in the thirty-first are re-
corded the precepts which the mother of Lemuel
delivered to her son. Several references are evi-
dently made to the book of Proverbs by the
writers of the New Testament. Rom. ix. 1 6. 20 ;
1 Peter iv. 8, v. 5 ; James iv.
The Proverbs of Solomon afford specimens of
the didactic poetry of the Hebrews. They abound
with antithetic parallels ; for this form is pecu-
liarly adapted to that kind of writing, to adages,
aphorisms, and detached sentences. Indeed, the
elegance, acuteness, and force of a great number
of Solomon's wise sayings arise in a great measure
from the antithetic form, the opposition of dic-
tion and sentiment.
The Hebrew title of the book called En i ESI-
ASTES is Keleth, that is, the gatherer or collector ;
and it is so called, either because the work itself
is a collection of maxims, or because it was
delivered to an assembly gathered together to
hear them. The Greek term Ecdrsiastes is cf
the same import, signifying one whc gathers tc
gether a congregation, or who discourses or
preaches to an assembly convened. That Solo-
mon was the author of this book is beyond all
doubt ; the beautiful description of the phenomena
in the natural world, and their causes ; of the circu-
lation of the blood, as some think (see Horsley's
Sermon before the Humane Society), and the
economy of the human frame, shows it to be the
work of a philosopher. At what period of his
life it was written may be easily found out. The
affecting account of the infirmities of old a^e
which it contains is a strong indication tha' the
author knew by experience what they were ; and
his complete conviction of the vanity of all
earthly enjoyments proves it to have been the
work of a penitent. Some passages in it seem,
indeed, to express an epicurean notion of Provi-
dence. But it is to be observed that the author,
in an academic way, disputes on both sides of
the question ; and at last concludes properly,
that to ' fear God and keep his commandments
is the whole duty of man ; for God will bring
every work to judgment.'
The general tenor and style of Ecclesiastes is
very different from the book of Proverbs, though
there are many detached sentiments and proverbs
interspersed. For the whole work is uniform,
and confined to one subject, namely, the vanity
of the world exemplified by the experience of
Solomon, who is introduced in the character of
a person investigating a very difficult question,
examining the arguments on either side, and at
length disengaging himself from an anxious and
doubtful disputation. The style of this work i->
singular ; the language is generally low ; it is
frequently loose, unconnected, approaching to
the incorrectness of conversation, and possesse-s
very little of the poetical character, even in tin:
composition and structure of the periods ; which
peculiarity may possibly be accounted for from
the nature of the subject. Contrary to the opi-
nion of the rabbies, Ecclesiastes has been classed
among the poetical books ; though authority and
opinions might perhaps on this occasion deserve
some attention.
The Soxo OF SONGS, or CANTICLES OF SOLO-
MON, forms one of the books of canonical Scrip-
ture mentioned by Josephus, and one book in
the Jewish divisions of Scripture adopted by our
Saviour and his apostles. The mystical meaning
of this poem seems to afford the only reason for
its insertion in the Jewish canon. Under the
figure of a marriage is typified the intimate rela-
tion subsisting between Christ and his church ;
and the same figures found in this allegory have
been transferred into the New Testament. See
Matt. ix. 15, xxii. 2, xxv. 1 — 11 ; John iii. 29 ;
2 Cor. xi. 2 ; Eph. v. 23. '27 ; Rev. xix. 7. 9 ;
xxii. 17. Dr. Good, whose excellent trans-
lation of this book of Scripture will afford
much valuable aid in its perusal, considers it as
a series of idyls, like the cassides of the poets of
Arabia. Its style, as remarked by bishop Lowth,
is of the pastoral kind, the two principal person-
ages being represented in the character of shep-
herds. The manner in which the Song of Solo-
mon has been interpreted by most expositors
hi ' ;ul t!ie effect of exposing it to unmerited
C16
SCRIPTURE.
c'-ntempt. Not entering into the style and spir.t
of oriental poesy, they have given to some pas-
sages a coarse and indelicate appearance; and,
not distinguishing between the literal and alle-
gorical senses, they have destroyed the consist-
ency and beauty of the poem, and bewildered
the mind of the reader. To understand this part
of Scripture requires not only a renewed heart
and an enlightened mind, but a sober and cautious
judgment. The spiritual senses must be exercised
to discern clearly spiritual truths, and the imagi-
nation must be curbed by a reverential appre-
hension of the majesty and condescension of
God. Among the Jews, it is said, they were not
allowed to read it until they had attained the
sacerdotal age of thirty years.
IV. Of the prophetical -writings of the Old
Testament. — The second of those great divisions
under which the Jews classed the books of the
Old Testament was that of the PROPHETS, which
formerly comprehended sixteen books ; 'and
which we now consider last in order, according
to their modern arrangement in our bibles.
Although the greater part of the Psalms are pro-
phetical, and the Song of Solomon is esteemed a
prophetical allegory, yet, these writings being
already taken notice of, we mean to restrict the
subject of this section to the writings of the pro-
phets, properly so called. The prophets were
sixteen in number : Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel,
Daniel, Hosea, Joel, Amos, Obadiah, Jonah,
Micah, Nahum, Habakkuk, Zephaniah, Haggai,
Zechariah, Malachi. The first four are called the
greater prophets ; the other twelve are denomi-
nated the minor prophets. The writings of the
prophets are to Christians the most interesting
part of the Old Testament ; for they afford one of
the most powerful arguments for the divine ori-
gin of the Christian religion. If we can only
prove, therefore, that these prophecies were uttered
a single century before the events took place to
which they relate, their claim to inspiration is
unquestionable. But we can do more ; we can
prove that the interval between their enunciation
and accomplishment extended much farther,
even to 500 or 1000 years, and in some cases
much more.
The books of the prophets are mentioned by
Josephus, and therefore surely existed in his
time ; they are also quoted by our Saviour under
the general denomination of the prophets. We
are informed by Tacitus arid Suetonius that about
sixty years before the birth of our Saviour there
was a universal expectation in the east of a
great personage who was to arise ; and the source
of this expectation is traced by the same writers
to the sacred books of the Jews. They existed
also in the time of Antiochus Epiphanes, A. C.
166; for when that tyrant prohibited the read-
ing of the law, the books of the prophets were
substituted in its place, and were continued
as a part of the daily service after the interdict
against the law of Moses was taken off. We re-
marked that references are made by the author
of Ecclesiasticua, A. C. 200, to the writings of
Isaiah, Jeremiah, and Ezekiel, and that he men-
tions the twelve prophets. We can ascend still
higher, and assert, from the language of the pro-
ph»-*, tha.'. al1 their writings must have been com-
posed before the Babylonish captivity, or within
a century after it ; for all of diem, except Daniel
and Ezra, are composed in Hebrew, and even in
them long passages are found in that language ;
but it is a well known fact that all the books
written by Jews about two centuries after that
era are composed in the Syriac or Chaldaic, or
Greek language. ' Let any man,' says Michaelis,
' compare what was written in Hebrew after the
Babylonish exile, and I apprehend he will per-
ceive no less evident marks of decay than in the
Latin language.' Even in the time of Ezra, the
common people, from their long residence in
Babylonia, had forgotten the Hebrew, and it was
necessary for the learned to interpret the law of
Moses to them. We can therefore ascertain with
very considerahle precision the date of the pro-
phetic writings ; which indeed is the only im-
portant point to be determined : for, if we can
only establish their ancient date, we shall be fully
entitled to draw this conclusion, that the predic-
tions of the prophets are inspired.
Much has been written to explain the nature
of inspiration, and to show by what methods
God imparted to the prophets that divine know-
ledge which they were commanded to publish to
their countrymen. But on this subject we shall
not attempt to be wise above what is written.
The manner in which the all-wise and unseen
God may think proper to operate upon the
minds of his creatures, we might expect a priori
to be mysterious and inexplicable. The busi-
ness of philosophy is not to enquire how al-
mighty power produced the frame of nature,
and bestowed upon it that beauty and grandeur
which is every where conspicuous, but to dis-
cover those marks of intelligence and design,
and the various purposes to which the works of
nature are subservient. Philosophy has of late
been directed to theology and the study of the
Scriptures with the happiest effects ; hut it is not
permitted to enter within the veil which the Lord
of nature has thrown over his councils. Its pro-
vince, which is sufficiently extensive, is to ex-
amine the language of the prophecies, and to
discover their application.
The character of the prophetic style varies
according to the genius, the education, and mode
of living of the respective authors ; but there are
some peculiarities which run through the whole
prophetic books. A plain unadorned style
would not have suited those men who were to
wrap the mysteries of futurity in a veil, which
was not to be penetrated till the events them-
selves should be accomplished. For it was never
the intention of prophecy to unfold futurity to
our view, as many of the rash interpreters of
prophecy fondly imagine; for this would be in-
consistent with the free agency of man. It was
therefore agreeable to the wisdom of God that
prophecies should be couched in language which
would render them unintelligible till the period
of their completion ; yet such a language as is
distinct, regular, and would be easily explained
when the events themselves should have taken
place. This is precisely the character of the
prophetic language. It is partly derived from
the hieroglyphical symbols of Kpypt, to which
the Israelites during their servitude were fami-
SCRIPTURE.
617
liarized, and partly from that analogy which
subsists between natural objects and those which
are moral and political.
The prophets borrowed their imagery from
the most splendid and sublime natural objects,
from the host of heaven, from seas and moun-
tains, from storms and earthquakes, and from
the most striking revolutions in nature. The ce-
lestial bodies they used as symbols to express
thrones and dignities, and those who enjoyed
them. Earth was the symbol for men of low
estate. Hades represents the miserable. As-
cending to heaven, and descending to earth, are
phrases which express rising to power, or falling
from it. Great earthquakes, the shaking of hea-
ven and earth, denote the commotions and over-
throw of the kingdoms. The sun represents the
whole race of kings shining with regal power and
glory. The moon is the symbol of the common
people. The stars are subordinate princes and
great men. Light denotes glory, truth, or know-
ledge. Darkness expresses obscurity of condi-
tion, error, and ignorance. The darkening of
the sun, the turning of the moon into blood,
and the falling of the stars, signify the destruc-
tion or desolation of a kingdom. New moons,
the returning of a nation from a dispersed state.
Conflagration of the earth is the symbol for de-
struction by war. The ascent of smoke from
any thing burning denotes the continuance of a
people under slavery. Riding in the clouds
signifies reigning over many subjects. Tem-
pestuous winds, or motion of the clouds, denotes
\v;irs. Thunder denotes the noise of multitudes,
fountains of water express cities. Mountains
and islands, cities with the territories belonging
to them. Houses and ships stand for families,
assemblies, and towns. A forest is put for a
kingdom. A wilderness for a nation much di-
minished in its numbers. Animals, as a lion,
bear, leopard, goat, are put for kingdoms or po-
litical communities corresponding to their re-
spective characters. When a man or beast is
put for a kingdom, the head represents those
who govern, the tail those who art governed ;
the horns denote the number of military powers
or states that rise from the head. Seeing signi-
fies understanding ; eyes, men of understand-
ing ; the mouth denotes a lawgiver ; the arm of
a man is put for power, or for the people by
whose strength his power is exercised ; feet re-
present the lowest of the people.
Such is the precision and regularity of the
prophetic language, which we learn to interpret
by comparing prophecies which are accom-
plished with the facts to which they correspond.
So far is the study of it carried already that a
dictionary has been composed to explain it; and
it is probable that in a short time it may be so
fully understood that we shall find little diffi-
culty in explaining any prophecy. But let us not
from this expect that the prophecies will enable
us to penetrate the dark clouds of futurity: No!
The difficulty of applying prophecies to their
corresponding events, before completion, will
still remain insurmountable. Those men, there-
fore, however pious and well-meaning they may
be, who attempt to explain and apply prophecies
which are not yet accomplished, and who delude
the credulous multitude by their own romantic
conjectures, cannot be acquitted of rashness and
presumption
The predictions of the prophets, according to
the opinion of Dr. Lowth, are written in a poetic
style. They possess indeed all the character-
istics of Hebrew poetry, with the single excep-
tion that none of them are alphabetical or
acrostic, which is an artificial arrangement ut-
terly repugnant to the nature of prophecy. The
other arguments, however, ought to be particu-
larly adverted to upon this subject ; the poetic
dialect for instance, the diction so totally dif-
ferent from the language of common life, and
other similar circumstances, which an attentive
reader will easily discover, but which cannot be
explained by a few examples ; for circumstances
which, when taken separately, appear but of
small account, are in a united view frequently of
the greatest importance. To these we may add
the artificial conformation of the sentences ;
which is a necessary concomitant of metrical
composition, the only one indeed which is now
apparent, as it has always appeared to us.
The order in which the books of the minor
prophets are placed is not the same in the Sep-
tuagint as in the Hebrew. According to the lat-
ter, they stand as in our translation ; but in the
Greek the series is altered, as to the first six, to
the following arrangement : — Hosea, Amos, Mi-
cah, Joel, Obadiah, Jonah. This change, how-
ever, is of no consequence, since, neither in the
original nor in the Septuagint, are they placed
with exact regard to the time in which their
sacred authors respectively flourished. The
order in which they should stand, if chronolo-
gically arranged, is by Blair and others supposed
to be as follows : — Jonah, Amos, Hosea, Micah,
Nahum, Joel, Zephaniah, Habakkuk, Obadiah,
Haggai, Zechariah, Malachi. And this order
will be found to be generally consistent with the
periods to which the prophets will be respec-
tively assigned in the following pages, except in
the instance of Joel, who propably flourished
rather earlier than he is placed by these chrono-
logers. The precise period of this prophet,
however, cannot be ascertained ; and some dis-
putes might be maintained concerning the pri-
ority of others also, when they were nearly con-
temporaries, as Amos and Hosea ; and when the
first prophecies of a latter prophet were delivered
at the same time with, or previous to those of a
prophet who was called earlier to the sacred of-
fice. The following scheme, however, in which
also the greater prophets will be introduced, may
enable the reader more accurately to comprehend
the actual and relative periods in which they se~
verally prophesied : —
618
SCRIP TUR E.
The PROPHETS in their supposed CHRONOLOGI-
CAL ORDER, according to Blair's Tables, with
some variations.
Prophets.
Years B.C.
Kings of Israel, Judah,
Babylon, and Persia.
Jehu and Jehoahaz.
Between
Lloyd.
Jonah
856and784
Joash and Jeroboam II.
Blair.
Amos
810 — 785
Uzziah and Jeroboam II.
llosea
810 — 725
Uzziah and Jeroboam II.,
Jotharn, and Ahaz, to
the third year of Heze-
kiah.
Isaiah
810 — 698
Uzziah, Jotham, Ahaz,
Hezek iah,and Manasseh .
Joel
810 — 660
Uzziah to Manasseh.
Micah
758 — 699
Jotham, Ahaz, Hezekiah,
Pekah, and Hosea.
Nalium
720 — 698
Hezekiah.
Zephaniah
640 — 609
Josiah.
Jeremiah
628 — 586
Josiah, Jehoahaz, Jehoia-
kim, Jeconiah, Zede-
kiah, and Gedaliah.
Habakkuk
612 — 598
Jehoiakim.
Daniel
606 — 534
Nebuchadnezzar, Evilme-
rodach, Belshazzar, Cy-
axares II. or Darius the
Mede, Cyrus the Great.
Obadiah
588 — 583
Nebuchadnezzar.
Ezekiel
595 — 536
Nebuchadnezzar.
Haggai
520 — 518
Darius Hystaspis.
Zechariah
Malachi
520 — 516 Darius Hystaspis.
436 — 397iAhasuerus or Artaxerxes.
ISAIAH is supposed to have entered upon the
prophetic office in the last year of the reign of
Uzziah, about 758 years A. C., and it is certain
that he lived to the fifteenth or sixteenth year of
Hezekiah. This makes the least possible term of
the duration of his prophetical office about forty-
eight years. The Jews say that Isaiah was put
death in the reign of Manasseh, being sawn
asunder with a wooden saw by the command of
that tyrant, and this seems to be confirmed by
St. Paul in Heb. xi. 37 (see ISAIAH). The time
of the delivery of some of his prophecies is
either expressly marked, or sufficiently clear
from the history to which they relate. The date
of a few others may be deduced from internal
marks ; from expressions, descriptions, and cir-
cumstances interwoven.
Isaiah, the first of the prophets both in order
and dignity, abounds in such transcendent excel-
lencies that he may be properly said to afford
the most perfect mode of the prophetic poetry.
He is at once elegant and sublime, forcible and
ornamented ; he unites energy with copiousness,
and dignity with variety. In his sentiments
there is uncommon elevation and majesty ; in his
iiira-ery the utmost propriety, elegance, dignity,
and diversity ; in his language uncommon beauty
and energy ; and, notwithstanding the obscurity
of his subjects, a surprising degree of clearness
and simplicity. There is such sweetness in the
poetical composition of his sentences that the
native grace and harmony of the Hebrew poetry
is chiefly to be found in the writings of Isaiah.
He greatly excels too in all the graces of method,
order, connexion, ai:d arrangement ; though in
asserting this we must not forget the nature of
the prophetic impulse, which bears away the
mind with irresistible violence, and frequently in
rapid transitions from near to remote objects,
from human to divine ; we must also remark
limits of particular predictions, since, as they
are now extant, they are often improperly con-
nected, without any marks of discrimination ;
which injudicious arrangement, on some occa-
sions, creates almost insuperable difficulties. It
is, in fact, a collection of different prophecies,
nearly allied to each other as to the subject,
which, for that reason, having a sort of connexion
are not to be separated but with the utmost dif-
ficulty. The general subject is the restoration of
the churcii. Its deliverance from captivity, the
destruction of idolatry, the vindication of the
divine power and truth, the consolation of the
Israelites, the divine invitation to them, their in-
credulity, impiety, and rejection, the calling in
of the Gentiles, the restoration of the chosen
people, the glory and felicity of the churcii in
its perfect state, and the ultimate destruction of
the wicked — are all set forth with a sufficient
respect to order and method. If we read these
passages with attention, and duly regard the na-
ture and genius of the mystical allegory, at the
same time remembering that all these points have
been frequently touched upon in other pro-
phecies promulgated at different times, we shall
neither find any irregularity in the arrangement
of the whole, nor any want of order and con-
nexion as to matter or sentiment in the different
parts. Dr. Lowth esteems the whole book of
Isaiah to be poetical, a few passages excepted,
which would not exceed the bulk of five or six
chapters. The fourteenth chapter of Isaiah is one
of the most sublime odes in the Scripture, and
contains one of the noblest personifications to be
found in the records of poetry.
The prophet, after predicting the liberation of
the Jews from their severe captivity in Babylon,
and their restoration to their own country, intro-
duces them as reciting a kind of triumphal song
upon the fall of the Babylonish monarch, replete
with imagery, and with the most elegant and
animated personifications. A sudden exclama-
tion, expressive of their joy and admiration on
the unexpected revolution in their affairs and
the destruction of their tyrants, forms the ex-
ordium of the poem. The earth itself triumphs
with the inhabitants thereof; the fir-trees and
the cedars of Lebanon (under which images the
parabolic style frequently delineates the kin_rs
and princes of the Gentiles) exult with joy, and
persecute with contemptuous reproaches the
humbled power of a ferocious enemy.
. How forcible is this imaircTV, how diversified,
how sublime! how elevated the diction, the
fr-rures, the sentiments! The Jewish nation, the
cedars of Lebanon, the ghosts of departed kings,
the Babylonish monarch, the travellers who find
his corpse, and, last of all, Jehovah himself,
are the characters which support this beautiful
lyric drama. One continued action is kept up,
or rather a series of interesting actions are con-
nected together in an incomparable whole. This
SCRIPT U R E.
619
indeed is the principal and distinguishc.l excel-
lence of the sublimer ode, and is displayed in
its utmost perfection in this poem of Isaiah,
which may be considered as one of the most
ancient, and certainly the most finished speci-
mens of that species of composition which has
been transmitted to us. The personifications
here are frequent, yet not confused ; bold, yet
not improbable; a free, elevated, and truly
divine spirit, pervades the whole: nor is there
any thing wanting in this ode to defeat its claim
to the character of perfect beauty and sublimity.
' If,' says Dr. Lowth, ' I may be indulged in
the free declaration of my own sentiments, I do
not know a single instance, in the whole compass
of Greek and Roman poetry, which, in every
excellence of composition, can be said to equal,
or even approach it.' But though we cordially
agree with Dr. Lowth, in the encomiums he
bestows on the poetical beauties of this inspired
prophet, we must observe that his chief merit
lies in something of much superior value. The
great, the infinite value of Isaiah's writings to
the Christian consists in this, that his prophe-
cies abound with the clearest and most accurate
descriptions of the birth, life, and humiliations,
preaching, miracles, propitiatory sufferings,
death, resurrection, and divine character of our
Saviour, of any of the whole inspired writings ;
insomuch that this prophet has been justly
styled the evangelical prophet. Without this
pre-eminent merit, all the beauties of his style
and imagery would be of no more importance
to mankind than those in Homer, Virgil, or
Milton.
JF.RKMIAH was called to the prophetic office
in the thirteenth year of the reign of Josiah the
son of Amon, A. M. 3376, A. C. 628, and con-
tinued to prophecy upwards of forty years,
during the reigns of the degenerate princes of
Judah, to whom he boldly threatened those
marks of the divine vengeance which their re-
bellious conduct drew on themselves and their
country. After the destruction of Jerusalem by
the Chaldeans, he was suffered by Nebuchad-
nezzar to remain in the desolate land of Judea
to lament the calamities of his infatuated coun-
trymen. He was afterwards, as he informs us,
carried with his disciple Baruch into Egypt, by
Johanan the son of Kareah. It appears from
several passages that Jeremiah committed his
prophecies to writing. In the thirty-sixth chap-
ter we are informed that the prophet was com-
manded to write upon a roll all the prophecies
which he had uttered ; and, when the roll was
destroyed by Jehoiakim the king, Jeremiah dic-
tated the same prophecies to Baruch, who wrote
them, together with many additional circu'm-
stances. The works of Jeremiah extend to the
last verse of the fifty-first chapter, in which we
have these words : — ' Thus far are the words of
Jeremiah.' Tiie fifty-second chapter was there-
fore added by some other writer. It is, how-
ever, a very important supplement, as it illus-
trates the accomplishment of Jeremiah's prophe-
cies respecting the fate of Zedekiah.
The prophecies of Jeremiah are not arranged
in the chronological order in which they were
delivered. What has occasioned this transposi-
tion cannot now be determined, it is generally
maintained that, if we consult heir dates, they
ought to be thus placed : — In the reign of Josiah,
the first twelve chapters. In the reign of Jehoi-
akim, chapters xiii., xx., xxi., xiv. 11,14, xxii.,
xxiii., xxv., xxvi., xxxv., xxxvi., xlv.— xlix.
1 — 33. In the reign of Zedekiah, chap. xxi.
1 — 10, xxiv., xxxvii., xxxiv., xxxviii,, xxxix.,
xlix., 34—39, 1. and li. Under the government
of Gedaliah, chapters xl. xliv. The prophecies
which related to the Gentiles were contained in
the forty-sixth and five following chapters, being
placed at the end, as in some measure uncon-
nected with the rest. But in some copies of
the Septuagint these six chapters follow imme-
diately after the thirteenth verse of the twenty
fifth chapter.
Jeremiah, though deficient neither in elegance
nor sublimity, must give place in both to Isaiah.
Jerome seems to object against him a sort o_
rusticity of language, no vestige of which Dr
Lowth was able to discover. His sentiments,
indeed, are not always the most elevated ; nor
are his periods always neat and compact ; but
these are faults common to those writers whose
principal aim is to excite the gentler affections,
and to call forth the tear of sympathy or sorrow.
This observation is strongly exemplified in the
Lamentations, where these are the prevailing
passions ; it is, however, frequently instanced in
the prophecies of this author, and most of all
in the beginning of the book, which is chiefly
poetical. The middle of it is almost entirely
historical. The latter part, again, consisting of
the last six chapters, is altogether poetical ; it
contains several different predictions, which are
distinctly marked ; and in these the prophet ap-
proaches very near the sublimity of Isaiah. On
the whole, however, not above half the book of
Jeremiah is poetical.
The book of LAMENTATIONS, as we are in-
formed in the title, was composed by Jeremiah.
We shall present to our reader an account of
this elegiac poem from the elegant pen of Dr.
Lowth. * The Lamentations of Jeremiah (foi
the title is properly and significantly plural;
consist of a number of plaintive effusions, com-
posed upon the plan of the funeral dirges, all
upon the same subject, and uttered without con-
nexion as they rose in the mind, in a long course
of separate stanzas. These have afterwards been
put together, and formed into a collection or
correspondent whole. If any reader, however,
should expect to find in them an artificial and
methodical arrangement of the general subject, a
regular disposition of the parts, a perfect con-
nexion and orderly succession in the matter, and
with all this an uninterrupted series of elegance
and correctness, he will really expect what was
foreign to the prophet's design. In the character
of a mourner, he celebrates, in plaintive strains, -
the obsequies of his ruined country ; whatever
presented itself to his mind in the midst of deso-
lation and misery, whatever struck him as parti-
cularly wretched and calamitous, whatever the
instant sentiment of sorrow dictated, he pours
forth in a kind of spontaneous effusion. lie
frequently pauses, and, as it were, ruminates
upon the same object; frequently varies and
620
SCRIPTURE.
illustrates the same, though with different
imagery, and a different choice of language ; so
that the. whole bears rather the appearance of an
accumulation of corresponding sentiments, than
an accurate and connected series of different
ideas, arranged in the form of a regular treatise.
There is, however, no wild incoherency in the
poem ; the transitions are easy and elegant.
' The work is divided into five parts; in the
first, second, and fourth chapters, the prophet
addresses the people in his own person, or intro-
duces Jerusalem as speaking. In the third a
chorus of the Jews is represented. In the fifth
the whole captive Jews pour forth their united
complaints to Almighty God. Each of these
five parts is distributed into twenty-two stanzas,
according to the number of the letters of the
alphabet. In the first three chapters these
stanzas consist of three lines. Iu the first four
chapters the initial letter of each period follows
the order of the alphabet; and in the third
chapter each verse of the same stanza begins
with the same letter. In the fourth chapter all
the stanzas are evidently distichs, as also in the
fifth, which is not acrostic. The intention of
the acrostic was to assist the memory to retain
sentences not much connected. It deserves to
be remarked that the verses of the first four
chapters are longer by almost one-half than
Hebrew verses generally are : the length of them
seems to be on an average about twelve sylla-
bles. The prophet appears to have chosen this
measure as being solemn and melancholy.
' That the subject of the Lamentations is the
destruction of the holy city and temple, the
overthrow of the state, the extermination of the
people ; and that these events are described as
actually accomplished, and not in the style of
prediction merely, must be evident to every
reader; though some authors of considerable
reputation (Josephus, Jerome, Usher, &c.) have
imagined this poem to have been composed on
the death of king Josiah. The prophet, indeed,
has so copiously, so tenderly, and poetically
bewailed the misfortunes of his country, that he
seems completely to have fulfilled the office and
duty of a mourner. In my opinion, there is not
extant any poem which displays such a happy
and splendid selection of imagery in so concen-
trated a state. What can be more elegant and
poetical than the description of that once flourish-
ing city, lately chief among the nations, sitting
in the character of a female, solitary, afflicted, in
a state of widowhood, deserted by her friends,
betrayed by her dearest connexions, imploring
relief, and seeking consolation in vain ? What
a beautiful personification is that of the ' ways
of Sion, mourning because none are come to her
solemn feasts !' How tender and pathetic are
the complaints! See chap. i. 12 — 16.
EZEKIEL was carried to Babylon as a captive,
and received the first revelations from heaven, in
the fifth year of Jehoiakim's captivity, A. C. 595.
The book of Ezekiel is sometimes distributed
under different heads. In the first three chapters
the commission of the prophet is described.
From the fourth to the thirty- second, inclusive,
the calamities that befel the enemies of the Jews
are predicted, viz. the Ammonites, the Moabites,
and Philistines. The ruin of Tyre and of Sidon,
and the fall of Egypt, are particularly foretold ;
prophecies which have been fulfilled in the most
literal and as'onishing manner, as we have been
often assured by the relation of historians and
travellers. From the thirty-second chapter to
the fortieth, he inveighs against the hypocrisy and
murmuring spirit of his countrymen, admonish-
ing them to resignation by promises of deliver-
ance. In the thirty-eighth and thirty-ninth
chapters he undoubtedly predicts the final return
of the Jews from their dispersion in the latter
days, but in a language so obscure that it can-
not be understood till the event take place. The
last nine chapters of this book furnish the de-
scriptions of a very remarkable vision of a new
temple and city, of a new religion and polity.
' Ezekiel is much inferior to Jeremiah in ele-
gance ; in sublimity he is not even excelled by
Isaiah ; but his sublimity is of a totally different
kind. He is deep, vehement, tragical; the only
sensation he affects to excite is the terrible ; his
sentiments are elevated, fervid, full of fire, in-
dignant; his imagery is crowded, magnificent,
terrific ; his language is pompous, solemn, aus-
tere, rough, and at times unpolished; he employs
frequent repetitions, not for the sake of grace or
elegance, but from the vehemence of passion or
indignation. Whatever subject he treats of,
that he sedulously pursues, from that he rarely
departs, but cleaves as it were to it; whence the
connexion is in general evident and well pre-
served. In many respects he is perhaps excelled
by the other prophets ; but in that species of
composition to which he seems by nature adapt-
ed, the forcible, the impetuous, the great and
solemn, not one of the sacred writers is superior
to him. His diction is sufficiently perspicuous;
all his obscurity consists in the nature of the
subject. Visions (as for instance, among others,
those of Hosea, Amos, and Jeremiah) are ne-
cessarily dark and confused. The greater part
of Ezekiel, towards the middle of the book espe-
cially, is poetical, whether we regard the matter
or the diction. His periods, however, are fre-
quently rude and incompact. Isaiah, Jeremiah,
and Ezekiel, as far as relates to style, may be
said to hold the same rank among the Hebrews
as Homer, Simonides, and &schyles, among the
Greeks.'
A pretty full account of DANIEL and his writ-
ings has been already given under that article.
Daniel flourished during the reign of five Baby-
lonish kings from Nebuchadnezzar to Belshazzar,
until the conquest of Babylon by Cyrus. The
events recorded in the sixth chapter were contem-
porary with Darius the Mede ; but in the seventh
and eighth chapters Daniel returns to an earlier
period, to relate the visions which he beheld in
the first three years of Belshazzar's reign ; and
those which follow in the last four chapters were
revealed to him in the reign of Darius ; except
the tenth, which is expressly dated in the third
year of Cyrus, and records his glorious vision of
the Messiah, who therein styles him ' a man
greatly beloved.' But the last six chapters are
all connected as parts of one great scheme.
They extend through many ages, and furnish the
most striking description of the fall of successive
SCRIPTURE.
621
kingdoms, which were to be introductory to the
establishment of the Messiah's reign. They cha-
racterise in descriptive terms the four great mon-
archies of the world to be succeeded by ' that
kingdom which shall never be destroyed.' See
Dan. ii. 44, and MONARCHY.
The whole book of Daniel being a plain rela-
tion of facts, partly past and partly future, ad-
mits not of poetical beauties. Much indeed of
the parabolic imagery is introduced in that book ;
but the author introduces it as a prophet only ;
as visionary and allegorical symbols of objects
and events, totally untinctured with the true
poetical coloring. The Jews, indeed, refuse to
Daniel even the character of a prophet; but
their arguments for this opinion are futile, tri-
fling, absurd, and totally destitute of scriptural
authority.
The prophecies of Daniel appear so plain and
intelligible, after their accomplishment, that Por-
phyry, who wrote in the third century, affirms
tha they were written after the events to which
they refer took place. A little reflection will
show the absurdity -of this supposition. Some
of the prophecies of Daniel clearly refer to An-
tiochus Epiphanes, with whose oppressions the
Jews were too well acquainted. Had the book
of Daniel not made its appearance till after the
death of Epiphanes, every Jew who read it must
have discovered the forgery. And what motive
could have induced them to receive it among
their sacred books ? It is impossible to conceive
one. Their character was quite the reverse ;
their respect for the Scriptures had degenerated
into superstition. But we are not left to deter-
mine this important point from the character of
the Jews; we have access to more decisive evi-
dence ; we are sure that the book of Daniel con-
tains prophecies, for some of them have been
accomplished since the time of Porphyry; par-
ticularly those respecting Antichrist; some of
them seem to be at present fulfilling ; and others
will evidently not be fulfilled till near the final
consummation of all sublunary things ; of which,
indeed, his concluding verses seem to point out
the period. Dan. xii. 11, 12.
The language in which the book of Daniel is
composed proves that it was written about the
tune of the Babylonish captivity. Part of it is
pure Hebrew; a language in which none of the
Jewish books were composed after the age of
i'.j'iphanes. These are arguments to a deist. To
a Christian the internal marks of the book itself
will show the time in which it was written, and
t if testimony of Ezekiel will prove Daniel to
have been at least his contemporary. See Ezek.
xiv. 14, xxviii. 3.
The twelve minor prophets were so called, not
from any supposed inferiority in their writings,
but on account of the small size of their works.
Perhaps it was for this reason that the Jews join-
ed them together, and considered them as one
volume. These twelve prophets present in scat-
tered hints a lively sketch of many particulars
relative to the history of Judah and of Israel, as
well as of other kingdoms ; they prophesy with
historical exactness the fate of Babylon, of Nine-
veh, of Tyre, of Sidon, and of Damascus. The
last three prophets especially illustrate many cir-
cumstances at a period when the historical pages
of Scripture are closed, and when profane wri-
ters are entirely wanting. At first the Jewish
prophets appeared only as single lights, and fol-
lowed each other in individual succession ; but
they became more numerous about the time of
the captivity. The light of inspiration was col-
lected into one blaze, previous to its suspension ;
.and it served to keep alive the faith and hopes of
the Jews during the awful interval which pre-
vailed between the expiration of prophecy and
its grand completion in the advent of Christ.
HOSEA has been supposed the most ancient of
the twelve minor prophets. He flourished in the
reign of Jeroboam II. king of Israel, and during
the successive reigns of Uzziah, Jotham, Ahaz,
and Hezekiah, kings of Judah. He was there-
fore nearly contemporary with Isaiah, Amos, and
Jonah. Hosea is the first in order of the minor
prophets, and is perhaps, Jonah excepted, the
most ancient of them all. His style exhibits the
appearance of very remote antiquity; it is point-
ed, energetic, and concise. It bears a distin-
guished mark of poetical composition, in that
pristine brevity and condensation which is ob-
servable in the sentences, and which latter writers
have in some measure neglected. This peculi-
arity has not escaped the observation of Jerome :
' He is altogether,' says he, ' laconic and senten-
tious.' But this very circumstance, which an-
ciently was supposed no doubt to impart uncom-
mon force and elegance, in the present ruinous
state of the Hebrew literature, is productive of
so much obscurity, that, although the general sub-
ject of this writer be sufficiently obvious, he is
the most difficult and perplexed of all the pro-
phets. There is, however, another reason for
the obscurity of his style : Hosea prophesied
during the reigns of the four kings of Judah,
Uzziah, Jotham, Ahaz, and Hezekiah. The du-
ration of his ministry, therefore, in whatever
manner we calculate, roust include a very consi-
derable space of time. We have now only a
small volume of his remaining, which seems to
contain his prophecies ; and these are extant in a
continued series, with no marks of distinction as
to the times in which they were published, or
the subjects of which they treat.
Concerning the date of the prophecy of JOEL
there are various conjectures. The book itself
affords nothing by which we can discover when
the author lived, or upon what occasion it was
written. Joel speaks of a great famine, and of
mischiefs that happened in consequence of an in-
undation of locusts ; but nothing can be gathered
from such general observations to enable us to
fix the period of his prophecy. St. Jerome
thinks (and it is the general opinion) that Joel
was contemporary with Hosea. Calmet places
him under the reign of Josiah, at the same time
with Jeremiah, and thinks it probable that the
famine to which Joel alludes is the same with
that which Jeremiah predicted, chap. viii. 13.
The style of Joel is essentially different from
that of Hosea ; but the general character of his
diction, though of a different kind, is not less
poetical. He is elesrant, perspicuous, copious,
and fluent ; he is also sublime, animated, and
energetic. In the first and second chapter*, ne
622
SCRIPTURE.
displays the full force of the prophetic poetry,
in metaphors, allegories, and comparisons. Nor
is the connexion of the matter K-ss clear and evi-
dent than the complexion of the style ; this is
exemplified in the display of the impending
evils which gave rise to the prophecy ; the exhor-
tation to repentance ; the promises of happiness
and success, both terrestrial and eiernal, to those
who become truly penitent ; the restoration of
the Israelites ; and the vengeance to be taken of
their adversaries. But, while we allow this just
commendation to his perspicuity, we must not
deny that there is sometimes great obscurity in
his subjects. His prophecy of the plague of lo-
custs is described with great sublimity of expres-
sion. See chap. i. 6, 7, 10, &c.
AMOS was contemporary with Hosea. They
both began to prophesy during the reigns of Uz-
ziah over Judah, and of Jeroboam II. over Israel.
Amos saw his first vision two years before the
earthquake, which Zechariah informs us happen-
ed in the days of I'zziah. See AMOS.
Amos was no prophet (as he informed Ama-
ziah), neither was he a prophet's son, that is, he
had no regular education in the schools of the
prophets. The prophecies of Amos consist of
several distinct discourses, which chiefly respect
the kingdom of Israel ; yet sometimes the pro-
phet inveighs against Judah, and threatens the
adjacent nations, the Syrians, Philistines, Tyrians,
Edonutes, Ammonites, and Moabites. Mr. Locke
has observed that the comparisons of this pro-
phet are chiefly drawn from lions and other ani-
mals with which he was most accustomed ; but
the finest images and allusions are drawn from
scenes of nature. There are many beautiful pas-
sages in the writings of Amos.
The writings of OBADIAH, which consist of
one chapter, are composed with much beauty,
and unfold a very interesting scene of prophecy.
Of this prophet little can be said, as the speci-
men of his genius is so short, and the greater
part of it included in one of the prophecies of
Jeremiah. Compare Ob. 1 — 9 with Jer. xlix.
14,15,16. See OBADIAU.
Though JONAH be placed the sixth in order of
the minor prophets, both in the Hebrew and Sep-
tuagint, he is generally considered as the most
ancient of all the prophets, not excepting Hosea.
He lived in the kingdom of Israel, and prophesied
to the ten tribes under Joash and Jeroboam.
The book of Jonah is chiefly historical, and con-
tains nothing of poetry but the prayer of the pro-
phet. The sacred writers, and our Lord himself,
speak of Jonah as a prophet of considerable
eminence. See JONAH, and Matt. xii. 39. 41,
xvi. 4, and Luke xi. 29.
MIC AH began to prophesy soon after Isaiah,
Hosea, Joel, and Amos ; and he prophesied be-
tween A. M. 3246, when Jotham began to reign,
and A. M. 3305, when Hezekiah died. One of
his predictions saved the life of Jeremiah, who
under the reign of Jehoiakim would have been
put to death for prophesying the destruction of
the temple, had it not appeared that Micah had
foretold ».he same thing under Hezekiah about
100 years before. Joseph. Antiq. lib. x. c. 7,
Mic. iii. 12. Micah is mentioned as a prophet
ir the book of Jeremiah and in Matt. li. 5 ;
John vii. 42. He is imitated by succeeding
prophets, as he himself had borrowed expres-
sions from his predecessors. Our Saviour him-
self spoke in the language of this prophet. SPB
Micah, vii. 6, aud Matt. x. 35, 36. The style
of Micah is for the most part close, forcible,
pointed, and concise ; sometimes approaching
the obscurity of Hosea; in many parts animated
and sublime ; and in general truly poetical. In
his prophecies there is an elegant poem, which
Dr. Lowth thinks is a citation from the answer
of Balaam to the king of the Moabites. See
chap. vi. 6 — 8.
Josephus asserts that NAHUM lived in the time
of Jotham king of Judah ; in which case he may
be supposed to have prophesied against N'ineveh
when Tiglath-Pileser king of Assyria carried
captive the natives of Galilee and other parts,
about A.M. 3264. It is however probable that
his prophecies were delivered in the reign of
Hezekiah ; for he appears to speak of the taking
of No-Ammon, a city of Egypt, and of the inso-
lent messengers of Sennacherib, as of things past;
and he describes the people of Judah as still in
their own country, and desirous of celebrating
their festivals. While Jerusalem was threatened
by Sennacherib, Nahum promised deliverance to
Hezekiah, and predicted that Judah would soon
celebrate her solemn feasts secure from invasion,
as her enemy would no more disturb her peace.
In the second and third chapters Nahum foretels
the downfal of the Assyrian empire and the final
destruction of Nineveh, which was probably ac-
complished by the Medes and Babylonians,
whose combined forces overpowered the As-
syrians by surprise, ' while they were folden
together as thorns, and while they were drunken
as drunkards,' when the gates of the river were
opened, the palace demolished, and an ' over-
running flood' assisted the conquerors in their
devastation ; who took an endless store of spoil
of gold and silver, making an utter end of Nine-
veh, that vast and populous city, whose walls
were 100 feet high, and so broad that three
chariots could pass abreast. Yet, so completely
was this celebrated city destroyed, that even in
the second century the spot on which it stood
could not be ascertained, every vestige of it
being gone. It is impossible to read of the
exact accomplishment of the prophetic denuncia-
tions against the enemies of the Jews, without
reflecting on the astonishing proofs which that
nation enjoyed of the divine origin of their re-
ligion. From the Babylonish captivity to the
time of Christ they had numberless instances of
the fulfilment of their prophecies. ' None of the
minor prophets,' says Dr. Lowth, ' seem to equal
Nahum in boldness, ardor, and sublimity. His
prophecy, too, forms a regular and perfect poem ;
the exordium is not merely magnificent, it is
truly majestic ; the preparation for the destruc-
tion of Nineveh, and the description of its down-
fal and desolation, are expressed in the most
vivid colors, and are bold and luminous in the
highest degree.'
As the prophet HABAKKUK makes no mention
of the Assyrians, and speaks of the Chaldean in-
vasions ds near at hand, he probably lived uftcr
the destruction of the Assyrian empire in the
S C R 1 P T U R E.
(323
Ull of Nineveh, A.M. 3392, and not long before
die devastation of Judea by Nebuchadnezzar.
Uabakkuk then was nearly contemporary with
Jeremiah, and predicted the same events. A
general account of llabakkuk's prophecies have
already been given under the article HABAKKIK.
The prayer in the third chapter is a most beauti-
ful and perfect ode, possessing all the fire of
poetry, and the profound reverence of religion.
The prophet illustrates his subject throughout
with great sublimity; selecting an assemblage of
miraculous incidents the most noble and impor-
tant, displaying them in the most splendid colors,
and embellishing them with the sublimest imagery,
figures, and diction, the dignity of which is
heightened and recommended by the superior
elegance of the conclusion. Habakkuk is imi-
tated by succeeding prophets, and his words are
borrowed by the evangelical writers. Ileb. x.
37, 38; Rom. i. 17; Gal. iii. 2; Acts xiii. 41 ;
compare with Hab. i. 5.
ZEHHANIAH, who was contemporary with Jere-
miah, prophesied in the reign of Josiah king of
Judali^; and, from the idolatry which he describes
as prevailing at that time, it is probable that his
prophecies were delivered before the last refor-
mation made by that pious prince, A.M. 3381.
The account which Zephaniah and Jeremiah
give of the idolatries of their age is so similar
that St. Isidore asserts that Zephaniah abridged
the descriptions of Jeremiah. But it is more
probable that the prophecies of Zephaniah were
written some years before those of his contempo-
rary ; for Jeremiah seems to represent the abuses
as partly removed which Zephaniah describes as
flagrant and excessive. In the first chapter
Zephaniah denounces the wrath of God against
the idolaters who worshipped Baal and the host
of heaven, and against the violent and deceitful.
In the second he threatens destruction to the
Philistines, the Moabites, the Ammonites, and
Ethiopians ; and describes the fate of Nineveh in
emphatic terms. In the third he inveighs against
the pollutions and oppressions of the Jews ; and
concludes with the promise, ' That a remnant
would be saved, and that multiplied blessings
would be bestowed upon the penitent.' The
style of Zephaniah is poetical, but is not dis-
tinguished by any peculiar elegance or beauty,
though generally animated and impressive.
HAGGAI was the first who flourished among
the Jews after the Babylonish captivity. He
began to prophesy in the second year of Darius
Hystaspis, about 520 years B. C. The intention
of his prophecy was to encourage the dispirited
Jews to proceed with the building of the temple.
The only prediction mentioned refers to the
Messiah, who, the prophet assures his country-
men, would fill the new temple with glory. So
well was this prediction understood by the Jews
that they looked with earnest expectation for the
Messiah's appearing in this temple till it was
destroyed by the Romans. But, as the victorious
Messiah whom they expected did not appear,
they have since applied the prophecy to a third
temple, which they hope to see reared in some
future period. The style of Ilaggai, in the
opinion of Dr. Lowth, is prosaic. Dr. New-
come thinks that a great part of it is poetical.
AKI ii A in AH was undoubtedly a contemporary
of Ilaggai, and began to prophesy two months
after him, in the eighth month of the second year
of Darius Hystaspis, A. M. 3484, being also
commissioned to exhort the Jews to proceed in
the building of the temple, after the interruption
which the work had suffered. We are informed
by Ezra(vi. 14) that the Jews prospered through
the prophesying of Zechariah and Haggai.
Zechariah begins with general exhortations to
his countrymen, exciting them to repent from
the evil ways of their fathers, whom the prophets
had admonished in vain. He describes angels of
the Lord interceding for mercy on Jerusalem and
the desolate cities of Judah, which had experienced
the indignation of the Most High for seventy
years, while the neighbouring nations were at
peace. lie declares that the house of the Lord
should be built in Jerusalem, and that Zion
should be comforted. The prophet then repre-
sents the increase and prosperity of the Jews
under several typical figures. He describes the
establishment of the Jewish government, and the
coming of the Messiah. He admonishes those
who observed solemn fasts without due contri-
tion, to execute justice, mercy, and compassion,
every man to his brother ; not to oppress the
widow nor the fatherless, the stranger nor the
poor. He promises that God would again show
favor to Jerusalem ; that their mournful fasts
should be turned into cheerful feasts ; and that
the church of the Lord should be enlarged by the
accession of many nations. The twelfth verse of
the eleventh chapter of this book, which exhibits
a prophetic description of some circumstances
afterwards fulfilled in our Saviour, appears to be
cited by St. Matthew (xxvii. 9, 10) as spoken by
Jeremiah ; and as the eleventh, twelfth, and thir-
teenth chapters have been thought to contain
some particulars more suitable to the age of
Jeremiah than to that of Zechariah, some learned
writers are of opinion that they were written by
the former prophet, and have been, from simi-
larity of subject, joined by mistake to those of
Zechariah. But others are of opinion that St.
Matthew might allude to some traditional pro-
phecy of Jeremiah, or, what is more probable,
that the name of Jeremiah was substituted, by
mistake, in place of Zechariah. The twelfth.,
thirteenth, and fourteenth chapters, contain pro-
phecies which refer entirely to the Christian dis-
pensation ; the circumstances attending which he
describes with a clearness which indicated their
near approach. The style of Zechariah is so
similar to that of Jeremiah that the Jews were
apcustomed to remark that the spirit of Jeremiah
had passed into him. He is generally prosaic
till towards the conclusion of his work, when he
becomes more elevated and poetical. The whole
is beautifully connected by easy transitions, and
present and future scenes are blended with the
greatest delicacy.
MALACHI was the last prophet that flourished,
under the Jewish dispensation ; but neither the
time in which he lived, nor any particulars of
his history, can now be ascertained. It is even
uncertain whether the word "ON^D, Malachi, be
a proper name, or denote, as the Septuagint have
rendered it, his angel, that is, ' the angel of the
024
SCRIPTURE.
Lord.' Origen supposed that Malachi was an
angel incarnate, and not a man. As it appears,
from the concurring testimony of all the ancient
Jewish and Christian writers, that the li^ht of
prophecy expired in Malacht, we may suppose
that the termination of his ministry coincided
with the accomplishment of the first seven weeks
of Daniel's prophecy, which was the period ap-
pointed for sealing the vision and prophecy.
This, according to Prideaux, took place in A. M.
3595 ; but, according to bishop Lloyd, in A. M.
3607, twelve years later. Whatever reckoning
we prefer, it must be allowed that Malachi com-
pleted the canon of the Old Testament 400 years
R. C. It appears certain that Malachi prophesied
under Nehemiah, and after Haggai and Zechariah,
at a time when great disorders remained among
the priests and people of Judah, which are re-
proved by Malachi. He inveighs against the
priests (i. 6, &c.; ii. 1, 2, &c.); lie reproaches
the people with having taken strange wives
(ii. 11); he reproves them for their inhumanity
towards their brethren (ii. 10, iii. 5); their too
frequently divorcing their wives ; their neglect of
Sying their tithes and first fruits (Mai. iii 13).
; seems to allude to the covenant that Nehe-
miah renewed with the Lord (iii. 10, and ii. 4, 5,
&c.), assisted by the priests and the chief of the
nation. He speaks of the sacrifice of the new
law, and of the abolition of those of the old, in
chap. i. 10 — 13. He declares that the Lord
was weary with the impiety of Israel; and
assures them that the Lord whom they sought
should suddenly come to his temple, preceded
by the messenger of the covenant, who was to
prepare his way ; that the Lord, when he ap-
peared, should purify the sons of Levi from their
unrighteousness, and refine them as metal from
the dross; and that then the offering of Judah,
the spiritual sacrifice of the heart, should be
pleasant to the Lord. The prophet, like one
who was delivering a last message, denounces
destruction against the impenitent in emphatic
and alarming words. He encourages those who
feared the name of the Lord with the animating
promise, that the ' Sun of Righteousness should
arise with salvation in his rays,' and render them
triumphant over the wicked. And now that
prophecy was to cease, and miracles were no
more to be performed till the coming of the
Messiah — now that the Jews were to be left to
the guidance of their own reason, and the written
instructions of their prophets — Malachi exhorts
them to remember the law of Moses, which the
Lord had revealed from Horeb for the sake of all
Israel. At length he seal? up the prophecies of
the Old Testament, by predicting the commence-
ment of the new dispensation, which should be
ushered in by John the Baptist, with the power
and spirit of Elijah ; who should turn the hearts
of fathers and children to repentance ; but, if his
admonitions should be rejected, that the Lord
would smite the land with a curse.
PART II.
OF THE NEW TESTAMENT.
INTRODITTION. — Of the authenticity and inspi-
ration of the Scriptures of the New Tettamtnt. —
The collection of writings composed after the
ascension of Christ, and acknowledged by his
followers to be divine, is known in general
by the name of Kmv?j AiaOntn- This title,
though neither given by divine command nor
applied to these writings by the apostles, was
adopted in a very early age, though the pre-
cise time of its introduction is uncertain, it beini;
justified by several passages in Scripture, and
warranted by the authority of St. Paul in particu-
lar, who calls the sacred books before the time
of Christ ira\aia oiaQijeij. Even long before that
period, either the whole of the Old Testament,
or the five books of Moses, were entitled /3i/3Xtoi/
£ia9t]KT]f, or book of the covenant ; 1 Mac.
i. 57.
As the word SiaQnKij admits of a two-fold in-
terpretation, we may translate this title either the
New Covenant or the New Testament. The
former translation must be adopted, if respect be
had to the texts of Scripture from which the
name is borrowed, since those passages evidently
convey the idea of a covenant ; and, besides, a
being capable of death can neither have made an
old, nor make a new testament. It is likewise
probable that the earliest Greek disciples, who
made use of this expression, had no other notion
in view than that of covenant. We, on the con-
trary, are accustomed to give this sacred collec-
tion the name of Testament ; and since it would
be not only improper, but even absurd, to speak
of the Testament of God, we commonly under-
stand the Testament of Christ ; an explanation
which removes but half the difficulty, since the
new only, and not the old, had Christ for its
testator.
In stating the evidence for the truth of Chris-
tianity, there is nothing more worthy of con-
sideration than the authenticity of the books of
the New Testament. This is the foundation on
which all other arguments rest ; and, if it is
solid, the Christian religion is fully established.
The proofs for the authenticity of the New
Testament have this peculiar advantage that
they are plain and simple, and involve no
metaphysical subtilties. Every man who can
distinguish truth from falsehood must see their
force ; and if there are any so blinded by pre-
judice, or corrupted by licentiousness, as to at-
tempt by sophistry to elude them, their sophistry
will be easily detected by every man of common
understanding who has. read the historical evi-
dence with candor and attention. Instead, there-
fore, of declaiming against the infidel, we solicit
his attention to this subject, convinced that,
where truth resides, it will shine with so constant
and clear a light that the combined ingenuity
of all the deists since the beginning of the world
will never be able to extinguish or to obscure it. If
the books of the New Testament are really genuine,
opposition will incite the Christian to bring for-
ward the evidence ; and thus, by the united efforts
of the deist and the Christian, the arguments will
be stated with all the clearness and accuracy of
which they are susceptible in so remarkable a
degree. It is surprising that the enemies of
Christianity have not always made their first
attacks in this quarter ; for if they admit that the
writings of the New Testament are as ancient n^
we affirm, and composed by the nersons to
SCRIPTURE.
625
whom they are ascribed, they must allow, if
they reason fairly, that the Christian religion is
true.
The stpostles allude frequently in their epistles
to the gift of miracles, which they had commu-
nicated to the Christian converts by the impo-
sition of hands, in confirmation of the doctrine
delivered in their speeches and writings, and
sometimes to miracles which they themselves had
performed. Now, if these epistles are really
genuine, it is hardly possible to deny those mi-
racles to be true. The case is here entirely dif-
ferent from that of an historian, who relates ex-
traordinary events in the course of his narrative,
since either credulity or an actual intention to
deceive may induce him to describe as true a
series of falsehoods respecting a foreign land or
distant period. Even to the evangelists might
an adversary of the Christian religion make this
objection : but to write to persons with whom
we stand in the nearest connexion, ' I have not
only performed miracles in your presence, but
have likewise communicated to you the same
extraordinary endowments,' to write in this man-
ner, if nothing of the kind had ever happened,
would require such an incredible degree of ef-
frontery that he who possessed it would not only
expose himself to the utmost ridicule, but, by
giving his adversaries the fairest opportunity to
detect his imposture, would ruin the cause which
he attempted to support.
St. Paul's First Epistle to the Thessalonians is
addressed to a community, to which he had
preached the gospel only three Sabbath days,
when he was forced to quit it by the persecution
of the populace. In this epistle he appeals to
the miracles which he had performed, and to the
gifts of the Holy Spirit which he had communi-
cated. Now is it possible, without forfeiting
all pretensions to common sense, that, in writing
to a community which he had lately established,
he could speak of miracles performed, and gifts
of the Holy Ghost communicated, if no member
of the society had seen the one, or received the
other ? To suppose that an impostor could
write to the converts or adversaries of the new
religion such epistles as these, with a degree of
triumph over his opponents, and yet maintain
his authority, implies ignorance and stupidity
hardly to be believed. Credulous as the Chris-
tians have been in later ages, and even so early
as the third century, no less severe were they in
their enquiries, and guarded against deception,
at the introduction of Christianity. This charac-
ter is given them even by Lucian, a writer of the
second century, who vented his satire not only
against certain Christians, who had supplied Pe-
regrinus with the means of subsistence, but also
against heathen oracles and pretended wonders.
He relates of his impostor (Pseudomantis) that
he attempted nothing supernatural in the pre-
sence of the Christians and Epicureans. This
Pseudomantis exclaims before the whole assem-
bly, < away with the Christians, away with the
Epicureans, and let those only remain who be-
lieve in the Deity (TriTtvavrtT rai Qua) '.' upon
which the populace took up stones to drive away
the suspicious; while the other philosophers,
Pythagoreans, Platonists, and Stoics, as credu-
Vot. XtX.
Ions friends and protectors of the cause, were
permitted to remain.
It is readily acknowledged that the arguments
drawn from the authenticity of the New Testa-
ment only establish the truth of the miracles
performed by the apostles, and are not applica-
ble to the miracles of our Saviour ; yet, if we ad-
mit the three first gospels to be genuine, the
truth of the Christian religion will be proved
from the prophecies of Jesus. For if these gospels
were composed by Matthew, Mark, and Luke,
at the time in which all the primitive Christians
affirm, that is, previous to the destruction of
Jerusalem, they must be inspired; for they
contain a circumstantial prophecy of the destruc-
tion of Jerusalem, and determine the period at
which it was accomplished. Now it was impos-
sible that human sagacity could foresee that
event; for when it was predicted nothing was
more improbable. The Jews were resolved to
avoid an open rebellion, well knowing the great-
ness of their danger, and submitted to the op-
pressions of their governors in the hope of ob-
taining redress from the court of Rome. The
circumstance which gave birth to these misfor-
tunes is so trifling in itself, that, independent of
its consequences, it would not deserve to be re-
corded. In the narrow entrance to a synagogue
in Csesarea some person had made an offering
of birds, merely with a view to irritate the Jews.
The insult excited their indignation, and occa-
sioned the shedding of blood. This seemingly
trifling circumstance, ordained by Him without
whose permission a sparrow cannot fall to the
ground, gave rise to a bloody war, which ended
in the fulfilment of our Saviour's prophecy, by
the total destruction of Jerusalem, and the
dreadful massacre of its inhabitants. See JEWS.
Florus, who was then procurator of Judea, con-
verted this private quarrel into public hostilities,
and compelled the Jewish nation to rebel, con-
trary to its wish and resolution, to avoid what
the Jews had threatened, an impeachment before
the Roman emperor, for his excessive cruelties.
But, even after this rebellion had broken out, the
destruction of the temple was a very improbable
event. It was not the practice of the Romans to
destroy the magnificent edifices of the nations
which they subdued ; and, of all the Roman ge-
nerals, none was more unlikely to demolish so
ancient and august a building as Titus Vespa-
sian. So important then is the question, whe-
ther the books of the New Testament be genuine ?
that the arguments which prove their authen-
ticity prove also the truth of the Christian re-
ligion. Let us now consider the evidence which
proves the authenticity of the New Testament.
We receive the books of the New Testament
as the genuine works of Matthew, Mark, Luke,
John, and Paul, for the same reason that we re-
ceive the writings of Xenophon, Polybius, Plu-
tarch, Caesar, and Livy. We have the uninter-
rupted testimony of all ages, and we have no
reason to suspect imposition. This argument is
much stronger when applied to the books of the
New Testament than when applied to any other
writings; for they were addressed to large so-
cieties, were often read in their presence, and
acknowledged by them to be the writings of the
2 S
626
SCRIPTURE.
apostles. Whereas, the most eminent profane
writings which still remain were addressed only
to individuals, or to no persons at all : and we
have the authority to affirm that they were read
in public ; on the contrary, we know that a
liberal education was uncommon ; books were
scarce, and the knowledge of them was confined
to a few individuals in every nation.
The New Testament was read over three quar-
ters of the world, while profane writers were
limited to one nation or to one country. An
uninterrupted succession of writers from the
apostolic ages to the present time quote the
sacred writings, or make allusions to them ; and
these quotations and allusions are made not only
by friends but by enemies. This cannot be as-
serted of even the best classic authors. And it
is highly probable that the translations of the
New Testament were made so early as the
second century ; and in a century or two after
they became very numerous. After this period
it was impossible to forge new writings, or to
corrupt the sacred text, unless we can suppose
that men of different nations, of different senti-
ments, and different languages, and often exceed-
ingly hostile to one another, should all agree in
one forgery. This is so strong that, if we deny
the authenticity of the New Testament, we may
with a thousand times more propriety reject all
the other writings in the word ; we may even
throw aside human testimony itself. But, as this
subject is of great importance, we shall consider
it at more length ; and, to enable our readers to
judge with greater accuracy, we shall state, from
the valuable work of Michaelis, as translated by
the learned bishop Marsh, the reasons which
may induce a critic to suspect a work to be
spurious : —
1. When doubts have been made, from its first
appearance in the world, whether it proceeded
from the author to whom it is ascribed. 2.
When the immediate friends of the pretended
author, who were able to decide upon the sub-
ject, have denied it to be his production. 3.
When a long series of years has elapsed after
his death, in which the book was unknown, and
in which it must unavoidably have been men-
tioned and quoted, had it really existed. 4.
When the style is different from that of his
other writings, or, in case no other remain, dif-
ferent from that which might reasonably be ex-
pected. 5. When events are recorded which
«ippen later than the time of the pretended au-
ihor. 6. When opinions are advanced which
contradict those he is known to maintain in his
other writings : though this latter argument alone
leads to no positive conclusion, since every man
is liable to change his opinion, or through for-
getfulness to vary in the circumstances of the
same relation, of which Josephus, in his Anti-
quities and Wars of the Jews, affords a striking
example.
1. But it cannot be shown that any one
doubted of the authenticity of the New Testa-
ment in the period in which it first appeared. 2.
No ancient accounts are on record whence we may
conclude it to be spurious. 3. No considerable
period elapsed after the death of the apostles, in
which the New Testament was unknown; but,
on the contrary, it is mentioned by their very
contemporaries, and the accounts of it in the
second century are still more numerous. 4. No
argument can be brought in its disfavor from the
nature of the style, it being exactly such as might
be expected from the apostles, not Attic but
Jewish Greek. 5. No facts are recorded which
happened after their death. 6. No doctrines are
maintained which contradict the known tenets of
the authors, since, beside the New Testament, no
writings of the apostles exist. But, to the honor
of the New Testament be it spoken, it contains
numerous contradictions to the tenets and doc-
trines of the fathers in the second and third cen-
tury, whose morality was different from that of
the gospel, which recommends fortitude and
submission to unavoidable evils, but not that
enthusiastic ardor for martyrdom for which
these centuries are distinguished; it alludes to
ceremonies which in the following ages were either
in disuse or totally unknown ; all which circum-
stances infallibly demonstrate that the New Tes-
tament is not a production of either of those
centuries. We shall now consider the positive
evidences for the authenticity of the New Testa-
ment. These may be arranged under the three
following heads: i. The impossibility of a for-
gery, arising from the nature of the thing it-
self, ii. The ancient Christian, Jewish, and
Heathen testimony it its favor, iii. Its own in-
ternal evidence.
i. The impossibility of a forgery, arising from
the nature of the thing itself, is evident. It is
impossible to establish forged writings as authen-
tic in any place where there are persons strongly
inclined and well qualified to detect the fraud.
Now the Jews were the most violent enemies of
Christianity. They put the founder of it to death ;
they persecuted his disciples with implacable
fury ; and they were anxious to stifle the new re-
ligion in its birth. If the writings of the New
Testament had been forged, would not the Jews
have detected the imposture ? Is there a single
instance on record where a few individuals have
imposed a history upon the world against the
testimony of a whole nation ? Would the inha-
bitants of Palestine have received the gospels, if
they had not had sufficient evidence that Jesu»
Christ really appeared among them, and per-
formed the miracles ascribed to him ? Or would
the churches of Rome or of Corinth have acknow-
ledged the epistles addressed to them as tlu-
genuine works of Paul, if Paul had never
preached among them ? We might as well think
to prove that the history of the Reformation is
the invention of historians ; and that no revolu-
tion happened in Great Britain during the seven-
teenth century.
ii. The second kind of evidence which we
produce, to prove the authenticity of the New
Testament, is the testimony <>/' ancii-iit writers,
Christians, Jews, and Heathens. In reviewing
the evidence of testimony, it will not be ex
pected that we should begin at the present age,
and trace backwards the authors who have
written on this subject to the first ages of Chris-
tianity. This indeed, though a laborious task,
could be performed in the most complete man*
ner; the whole series of authors, numerous in
SCRIPTURE.
627
every age, who hare quoted from the books of
the New Testament, written commentaries upon
them, translated them into different languages,
or who have drawn up a list of them, could be
exhibited so as to form such a perfect body of evi-
dence that we imagine even a jury of deists would
find it impossible, upon a deliberate and candid
examination, to reject or disbelieve it. We do
not, however, suppose that scepticism has yet
arrived at so great a height as to render such a
tedious and circumstantial evidence necessary.
Passing over the intermediate space, therefore,
we shall ascend at once to the fourth century,
when the evidence for the authenticity of the
New Testament was fully established, and trace
it back from that period to the age of the apostles.
Tins method of stating the evidence will appear
more natural, and will afford more satisfaction,
than that which has been usually adopted.
It is surely more natural, when we investigate
the truth of any fact which depends on a series of
testimony, to begin with those witnesses who
lived nearest the present age, and whose cha-
racters are best established. In this way we shall
learn from themselves the foundation of their
belief, and the characters of those from whom
they derived it; and thus we ascend till we
arrive at its origin. This mode of investigation
will give more satisfaction to the deist than the
usual way ; and we believe no Christian, who is
confident of the goodness of his cause, will be
unwilling to grant any proper concessions. The
deist will thus have an opportunity of examining,
separately, what he will consider as the weakest
parts of the evidence, those which are exhibited
by the earliest Christian writers, consisting of ex-
pressions, and not quotations, taken from the
New Testament. The Christian, on the other
hand, ought to wish that these apparently weak
parts of the evidence were distinctly examined,
for thsy will afford an irrefragable proof that the
New Testament was not forged ; and, should the
deist reject the evidence of those early writers,
it will be incumbent on him to account for the
origin of the Christian religion, which he will
find more difficult than to admit the common hy-
pothesis.
In the fourth century we could produce the
testimonies of numerous witnesses to prove that
the books of the New Testament existed at that
time ; but it will he sufficient to mention their
names, the time in which they wrote, and the sub-
stance of their evidence. This we shall present
in a concise form in the following table, taken
from Jones's New and Full Method of establish-
ing the canon of the New Testament ; but con-
densed to save room.
It exhibits, 1. The names of the writers. 2.
The times in which they lived. 3. The variation
or agreement of their catalogues with ours now
received : and, 4. The books in which these
catalogues are.
I. Atnanasius, bishop of Alexandria. A. D. 315.
The same perfectly with ours now received.
Fragment. Epist. Testal. torn. 2, et in Synops.
torn. i.
II. Cyril, bishop of Jerusalem, A. D. 340. The
same with ours, only the Revelation is omitted.
Catech. IV. sect. ult. p. 101.
III. The bishops assembled in the council of
Laodicea. A. D. 364. The Revelation is
omitted. Canon. LIX. N. B. The canons of
this council were not long afterwards received
into the body of the canons of the universal
church.
IV. Epiphanius, bishop of Salamis in Cyprus.
A. D. 370. The same with ours now received.
Haeres. 76. cont. Anom. p. 399.
V. Gregory Nazianzen, bishop of Constantinople,
A. D. 375. Omits the Revelation. Carm. de
veris et genuin. Scriptur.
VI. Philastrius, bishop of Brixia in Venice.
A. D. 380. The same with ours now re-
ceived ; except that he mentions only thir-
teen of St. Paul's epistles (omitting very
probably the Epistle to the Hebrews), and
leaves out the Revelations. Lib. de Haeres.
Numb. 87.
VII. Jerome. A. D. 382. The same with
ours, except that he speaks dubiously of the
Epistle to the Hebrews ; though in other
parts of his writings he receives it as ca-
nonical. Ep. ad Paulin. 83. Tract. 6. p. 2.
Also commonly prefixed to the Latin vulgar.
VIII. Ruffin, presbyter of Aquilegium. A. D.
390. It perfectly agrees with ours. Expos,
in Symb. Apostol. sect. 36. int. Ep. Hieron.
Par. 1. Trac. 3, p. 110, et inter. Op. Cypr.
p. 575.
IX. Austin, bishop of Hippo in Africa. A. D.
394. It perfectly agrees with ours. De
Doctrin. Christ. 1, 2, c. 8. Tom. Op. 3.
p. 25.
X. The XLIV. bishops assembled HI the third
council of Carthage. St. Austin was present
at it. It perfectly agrees with ours. Vid.
Canon. XL VII. et cap. ult.
We now go back to Eusebius, who wrote
about the year 315, and whose catalogue of the
books of the New Testament we shall mention
at more length. ' Let us observe,' says he, ' the
writings of the apostle John, which are uncon-
tradicted ; and, first of all, must be mentioned,
as acknowledged of all, the gospel according to
him, well known to all the churches under
heaven.' The author then proceeds to relate the
occasions of writing the gospels, and the reasons
for placing St. John's the last, manifestly speak-
ing of all the four as equal in their authority, and
the certainty of their original. The second p*as-
sage is taken from a chapter, the title of which is
' Of the Scriptures universally acknowledged,
and of those that are not such.' Eusebius begins
his enumeration in the following manner: 'In
the first place are to be ranked the sacred four
Gospels, then the book of the Acts of the Apos-
tles; after that are to be reckoned the Epistles of
St. Paul ; in the next place, that called the first
Epistle of John and the Epistle of Peter are to
be esteemed authentic : after this is to be placed,
if it be thought fit, the Revelation of St. John ;
about which we shall observe the different
opinions at proper seasons. Of the controverted,
but yet well known or approved by the most, are
that called the Epistle of James and that of Jude
the second of Peter, and the second and third ot
John, whether they were written by the evan
2 S 2
628
SCRIPTURE.
gelist, or by another of the same name.' He then
proceeds to reckon up five others, not in our
canon, which he calls in one place spurious, in
another controverted ; evidently meaning the
same thing by these two words. He uses still
stronger terms with respect to the pretended gos-
pels of Peter, and Thomas, and Matthias, and
some others, which he says are altogether absurd
and impious.
A. D. 290, Victorin bishop of Pettaw in Ger-
many, ;'n a commentary upon this text of the
ixerelation, 'The first was like a lion, the second
was like a calf, the third like a man, and the
fourth like a flying eagle,' makes out that by
the four creatures are intended the four gospels ;
and, to show the propriety of the symbols, he re-
cites the subject with which the evangelist opens
liis history. The explication is fanciful, but the
testimony positive. He also expressly cites the
Acts of the Apostles.
A. D. 230, Cyprian bishop of Carthage gives
the following testimony: 'The church,' says this
father, ' is watered like Paradise by four rivers,
that is, by four gospels.' The Acts of the
Apostles are also frequently quoted by Cyprian
under that name, and under the name of the
Divine Scriptures. In his various writings are
such frequent and copious citations of Scripture
as to place this part of the testimony beyond
controversy. Nor is there, in the works of this
eminent African bishop, one quotation of a spu-
rious or apocryphal Christian writing.
A. D. 210, Origen is a most important evi-
dence. Nothing can be more peremptory upon
the subject now under consideration, and, from a
writer of his learning and information, nothing
more satisfactory, than the declaration of Origen,
preserved in an extract of his works by Eusebius :
' That the four gospels alone are received with-
out dispute by the whole church of God under
heaven :' to which declaration is immediately
subjoined abrief history of the respective authors,
to whom they were then, as they are now,
ascribed. The sentiments expressed concerning
the gospels in all the works of Origen which re-
main entirely, correspond with the testimony here
cited. His attestation to the Acts of the Apostles
is no less positive ; ' And Luke also once more
sounds the trumpet relating the Acts of the
Apostles.' That the Scriptures were then uni-
versally read is plainly affirmed by this writer
in a passage in which he is repelling the objec-
tions of Celsus, ' That it is not in private books,
or such as are read by few only, and those stu-
dious persons, but in books read by every body,
that it is written the invisible things of God, from
the creation of the world are clearly seen, being
understood by things that are made.' It is to
no purpose to single out quotations of Scripture
from such a writer as this. We might as well
make a selection of the quotations of Scripture
in Dr. Clarke's sermons. They are so thickly
sown in the works of Origen, that Dr. Mill says,
' If we had all his works remaining, we should
have before us almost the whole text of the
Bible.'
A. D. 194, T i- r hi 11 tan exhibits the number of
the gospels then received, the names of the evan-
gelists, and their proper designations, in one
•hort sentence. ' Among the apostles, John and
Matthew teach us the faith ; among apostolical
men, Luke and Mark refresh it.' The next pas-
sage to be taken from Tertullian affords as com-
plete an attestation to the authenticity of the
gospels as can be well imagined. After enu-
merating the churches which had been founded
by Paul at Corinth, in Galatia, at Philippi, Thes-
salonica, and Ephesus, the church of Rome es-
tablished by Peter and Paul, and other churches
derived from John, he proceeds thus : ' I say
then that with them, but not with them only
which are apostolical, but with all who have fel
lowship with them in the same faith, is that gospel
of Luke received from its first publication, which
we so zealously maintain ;' and presently after-
wards adds, ' The sam« authority of the aposto-
lical churches will support the other gospels,
which we have from them, and according to them,
I mean John's and Matthew's, although that
likewise which Mark published may be said to
be Peter's, whose interpreter Mark was.' In
another place Tertullian affirms that the three
other gospels, as well as St. Luke's, were in the
hands of the churches from the beginning. This
noble testimony proves incontestably the anti-
quity of the gospels, and that they were univer-
sally received ; that they were in the hands of
all, and had been so from the first. And this
evidence appears not more than 150 years after
the publication of the books. Dr. Lardner ob-
serves ' that there are more and larger quota-
tions of the small volume of the New Testament,
in this one Christian author, than there are of all
the works of Cicero, in writers of all characters,
for several ages.'
A. D. 178, Irenaeus was bishop of Lyons, and
is mentioned by Tertullian, Eusebius, Jerome,
and Photius. In his youth he had been a disciple
of Polycarp, who was a disciple of John. He as-
serts, of himself and his contemporaries, that they
were able to reckon up in all the principal
churches the succession of bishops to their first
institution. His testimony to the four gospels
and Acts of the Apostles is express and positive.
' We have not received,' says Irenseus, ' the
knowledge of the way of our salvation by any
others than those by whom the gospel has been
brought to us. Which gospel they first preached,
and afterwards, by the will of God, committed
to writing, that it might be for time to come the
foundation and pillar of our faith. For after that
our Lord rose from the dead, and they (the
apostles) were endowed from above with the
power of the Holy Ghost coming down upon
them, they received a perfect knowledge of all
things. They then went forth to all the ends of
the earth, declaring to men the blessing of hea-
venly peace, having all of them, and every one
alike, the gospel of God. Matthew then, among
the Jews, wrote a gospel in their own language,
while Peter and Pau'l were preaching the gospel
at Rome, and founding a church there. And,
after their exit, Mark also, the disciple and inter-
preter of Peter, delivered to us in writing the
things that had been preached by Peter. And
Luke, the companion of Paul, put down in a
book the gospel preached by him (Paul). After-
wards John, the disciple of the Lord, wl.o
also leaned upon his breast, likewise pub-
lished a gosnel while he dwelt at Ephesus i~
SCRIPTURE.
629
Asia.' Irenaeus then relates how Matthew begins
his gospel, how Mark bpgins and ends his; and
gives tlie supposed reasons for doing so. He
enumerates at length all the passages of Christ's
history in Luke, which are not found in any of
the other evangelists. He states the particular de-
sign with which St. John composed his gospel,
and accounts for the doctrinal declarations which
precede the narrative. If any modern divine
should write a book upon the genuineness of the
gospels, he could not assert it more expressly, or
state their original more distinctly, than Irenaeus
hath done within little more that 100 years after
they were published.
Respecting the book of the Acts of the
Apostles, and its author, the testimony of Irenaeus
is no less explicit Referring to the account of
St. Paul's conversion and vocation, in the ninth
chapter of that book, ' Nor can they,' says he,
meaning the parties with whom he argues,
* show that he is not to be credited, who has re-
lated to us the truth with the greatest exactness.'
In another place, he has actually collected the
several texts, in which the writer of the history
is represented as accompanying St. Paul, which
led him to exhibit a summary of almost the
whole of the last twelve chapters of the book.
According to Lardner, Irenasus quotes twelve
'of Paul's epistles, naming their author ; also
the first epistle of Peter, the two first epistles of
John, and the Revelation. The epistles of Paul
which he omits are those addressed to Philemon
and the Hebrews. Eusebius says that he quotes
the epistle to the Hebrews, though he does not
ascribe it to Paul. The work, however, is lost.
A. D. 172, Tatian, who is spoken of by Cle-
mens Alexandrinus, Origen, Eusebius, and Je-
rome, composed a harmony of the four gospels,
which he called D atessaron, of the four. This
title, as well as the work, is remarkable, because
it shows that then as well as now there were four
and only four, gospels in general use among
Christians.
A. D. 170, the churches of Lyons and Viennp
in France sent an account of the sufferings of
their martyrs to the churches of Asia and Phry-
gia, which has been preserved entire by Euse-
bius. And what carries in some measure the
testimony of these churches to a higher age is,
that they had now for their bishop Pothinus,who
was ninety years old, and whose early life con-
sequently must have immediately followed the
times of the apostles. In this epistle are exact
reference to the gospels of Lufce and John, and
to the Acts of the Apostles. The form of re-
ferences is the same as in all the preceding ar-
ticles. That from St. John is in these words :
' Then was fulfilled that which was spoken by
the Lord, that whosoever killeth you, will think
that he doth God service.' Distinct references
ure also made to other books, viz. Acts, Romans,
Ephesians, Philippians, 1 Timothy, 1 Peter,
1 John, Revelation.
A. D. 140, Justin Martyr composed several
fiooks, which are mentioned by his disciple Ta-
tian, by Tertullian, Methodius, Eusebius, Jerome,
Epiphanius, and Photius. In his writings be-
tween twenty and thirty quotations from the
gospels and Acts of the Apostles are reckoned
up, which are clear, distinct, and copious; if
each verse be counted separately, a much greater
number; if each expression still more. Jones,
in his book on the Canon of the New Testament,
ventures to affirm that he cites the books of
which it consists, particularly of the four gos-
pels, above 200 times. We meet with quota-
tions of three of the gospels within the compass
of half a page, viz. from Matthew xxv. 41, Luke
x. 19, and Mark viii. 31. But all the references
in Justin are made without mentioning the au-
thor ; which proves that these books were per-
fectly well known, and that there were no othei
accounts of Christ then extant, or at least no
others so received and credited as to make it ne-
cessary to add any marks of distinction. But,
although Justin mentions not the author's names,
he calls the books Memoirs composed by the
Apostles ; Memoirs composed by the Apostles
and their Companions; which descriptions, the
latter especially, exactly suit the titles which the
Gospels and Acts of the Apostles now bear.
He informs" us, in his first apology, that the
Memoirs of the Apostles, or the writings of the
prophets, are read according as the time allows ;
and, when the reader has ended, the president
makes a discourse, exhorting to the imitation of
such excellent things. A few short observations
will show the value of this testimony. 1. The
Memoirs of the Apostles, Justin in another place
expressly tells us, are what are called gospels.
And that they were the gospels which we now
use is made certain by Justin's numerous quota-
tions of them, and his silence about any others.
2. He describes the general usage of the Chris-
tian church. 3. He does not speak of it as re-
cent or newly instituted, but in the terms in
which men speak of established customs. Justin
also makes such allusions to the following books
as shows that he had read them : Romans, 1 Co-
•inthians, Galatians, Ephesians, Philippians,
Colossians, 2 Thessalonians, Hebrews, 2 Peter ;
and he ascribes the Revelation to John, the
apostle of Christ.
A. D. 116, Papias, a hearer of John, and com-
panion of Polycarp, as Irenaeus attests, and of
the apostolical age, as all agree, in a passage
quoted by Eusebius from a work now lost, ex-
pressly ascribes the two first gospels to Matthew
and Mark ; and in a manner which proves that
these gospels must have publicly borne the
names of these authors at that titne, and pro-
bably long before ; for Papias does not say that
one gospel was written by Matthew, and ano-
ther by Mark ; but, assuming this as perfectly
well known, he tells us from what materials
Mark collected his account, viz. from Peter's
preaching, and in what language Matthew wrote,
viz. in Hebrew. Whether Papias was well in-
formed in this statement or not, to the point for
which this testimony is produced, namely, that
these books bore these names at this time, his
authority is complete. Papias himself declares
that he received his accounts of Christianity
from those who were acquainted with the
apostles, and that those accounts which he thus
received from the older Christian-, and had com-
mitted to memory, he inserted in his books. He
farther adds that he was very solicitous to obtain
630
SCRIPTURE.
every possible information, especially to learn
what the apostles said and preached, valuing
such information more than what was written in
books.
A. D- 108, Polycarp was bishop of Smyrna,
and disciple of John the Apostle. This testimony
concerning Polycarp is given by Irenaeus, who in
his youth had seen him. ' I can tell the place,'
saith Irenaus, ' in which the blessed Polycarp sat
and taught, and his going out and coming in, and
the manner of his life, and the form of his person,
and the discourses he made to the people, and
how he related his conversation with John and
others who had seen the Lord, and how lie re
lated their sayings, and what he had heard con-
cerning the Lord, both concerning his miracles
and his doctrines, as he had received them from
the eye-witnesses of the word of life; all which
Polycarp related agreeable to the Scriptures.
Of Polycarp, whose proximity to the age and
country and persons of the apostles is thus at-
tested, we have one undoubted epistle remain-
ing ; which, though a short performance, contains
nearly forty clear allusions to the books of the
New Testament. See POLYCARP. This is strong
evidence of the respect which was paid to them
by Christians of that age. Among these, al-
though the writings of St. Paul are more fre-
quently used by Polycarp than other parts of
Scripture, there are copious allusions to the gos-
pel of St. Matthew, some passages in the gos-
pels both of Matthew and Luke, and some which
:nore nearly resemble the words in Luke. He
thus fixes the authority of the Lord's prayer,
and the use of it among Christians. If, there-
fore, we pray the Lord to forgive us, we ought
also to forgive. And again, With supplication
beseeching the all-seeing God, not to lead us into
temptation.
In another place he quotes the words of our
Lord : ' But remember what the Lord said,
teaching, Judge not, that ye be not judged. For-
give, and ye shall be forgiven ; be ye merciful,
that ye may obtain mercy ; with what measure ye
mete, it shall be measured to you again.' Sup-
posing Polycarp to have had these words from the
books in which we now find them, it is manifest
that these books were considered by him, and by
his readers, as he thought, as authentic accounts
of Christ's discourses, and that this point was in-
contestable. He quotes also the following books,
the first of which he ascribes to St. Paul : 1 Co-
rinthians, Ephesians, Philippians, 1 and 2Thes-
snlonians; and makes evident references to
others, particularly to Acts, Romans, 2 Corin-
thians, Galatians, 1 Timothy, 2 Timothy, 1 Peter,
1 John.
Ignatius, as it is testified by ancient Christian
writers, became bishop of Antioch about thirty-
seven years after Christ's ascension : and there-
fore, from his time and place, and station, it is
probable that he had known and conversed with
ri;uiy of »he apostles. See IGNATH>. Kpistles
of Ignatius are referred to by Polycarp his con-
temporary. Passages found in the epistles now
extant under his name are quoted by Irenaeus,
A. D. 178, by Origen, A. D. 230 ; and the occa-
sion of writing them is fully explained by Euse-
bius and Jerome. What are called the smaller
epistles of Ignatius are generally reckoned the
same which were read by Irenacus, Origen, and
Eusebius. They are admitted as genuine by
Vossius, and have been proved to be so by bishop
Pearson, with a force of argument which seem?
to admit of no reply. In these epistles are un-
doubted allusions to Matt. iii. 15, xi. 16; to John
iii. 8 ; and their venerable author, who often
speaks of St. Paul in terms of the highest re-
spect, once quotes his epistle to the Ephesians
by name.
Near the conclusion of the epistle to the Ro-
mans, St. Paul, amongst others, sends the fol-
lowing salutation: ' Salute Asyrtcritus, Phlegon,
Hernias, Patrobas, Hermes, and the brethren
which are with them.' Of Hermas, who appears
in this catalogue of Roman Christians as contem-
porary with St. Paul, there is a book still re-
maining, the authenticity of which cannot be
disputed. See HERMAS. It is called the Shep-
herd or Pastor of Hermas. Its antiquity is
incontestable from the quotations of it in Irenaeus,
A. D. 178, Clement of Alexandria, A. D. 194,
Tertullian, A. D. 200, Origen, A. D. 230. The
notes of time extant in the epistle itself agree
with its title, and with the testimonies conerning
it, which intimate that it was written during the
lifetime of Clement. In this piece are tacit allu-
sions to St. Matthew's, St. Luke's, and St. John's
gospels ; that is to say, there are applications
of thoughts and expressions found in these gos-
pels, without citing the place or writer from
which they were taken. In this form appear in
Hermas the confessing and denying of Christ ;
the parable of the seed sown; the comparison of
Christ's disciples to little children; the saying
' he that putteth away his wife, and marrietii
another, committeth adultery ;' the singular ex-
pression, ' having received all power from his
Father,' is probably an allusion to Matt, xxviii.
18, and Christ being the gate, or only way of
coming ' to God,' is a plain allusion to John xi».
6, x. 7, 9. There is also a probable allusion to
Acts v. 32. The Shepherd of Hermas has been
considered as a fanciful performance. This, how-
ever, is of no importance in the present case.
We only adduce it as an evidence that the books
to which it frequently alludes existed in the first
century ; and for this purpose it is satisfactory, as
its authenticity has never been questioned.
A. D. 96, we have aa epistle written by Cle-
ment, the fourth bishop of Rome, whom ancient
writers, without any doubt, assert to have been
the Clement whom St. Paul mentions, Philip, iv.
3, ' with Clement also, and other my fellow
laborers, whose names are in the. book of life.'
This epistle is spoken of by the ancients as an
epistle acknowledged by all ; and, as Irenaeus
well represents its value, ' written by Clement,
who had seen the blessed apostles and conversed
with them, who had the preaching of the apos-
tles still sounding in his ears, and their tradi-
tions before his eyes.' It is addressed to the
church of Corinth ; and, what alone may seem a
decisive proof of its authenticity, Dionysius
bishop of Corinth, about the year 170, i.e. about
eighty or ninety years after the epistle was
written, bears witness, 'that it had been usually
read in that church from ancient times.' This
SCRIPTURE.
631
epistle affords, amongst others, the following
valuable passages : * especially remembering the
words of the Lord Jesus, which he spake, teach-
'ng gentleness and long suffering;' for thus he
said, 'Be ye merciful, that ye may obtain
mercy ; forgive, that it may be forgiven unto
you,' &c. Again, ' Remember the words of the
Lord Jesus ; for he said, wo to that man by whom
offences come ; it were better for him that he
had not been born,' &c. He ascribes the first
epistle to the Corinthians to Paul, and makes such
allusion to the following books as is sufficient to
show that he had seen and read them : Acts,
Romans, 2 Corinthians, Galatians, Ephesians,
Philippians, Colossians, 1 Thessalonians, 1 Ti-
mothy, 2 Timothy, Titus, 1 Peter, 2 Peter. It
may be said, as Clement has not mentioned the
books by name, from which we assert these al-
lusions or references are made, it is uncertain
whether he refers to any books, or whether he
received these expressions from the discourses
and conversation of the apostles. Mr. Paley has
given a very satisfactory answer to this objec-
tion : 1st. That Clement, in the very same man-
ner, namely, without any mark of reference,
uses a passage now found in the epistle to the
Romans (chap. i. 29) ; which passage, from the
peculiarity of the words that compose it, and
from their order, it is manifest that he must have
taken from the epistle. 2dly, That there are
many sentences of St. Paul's first epistle to the
Corinthians to be found in Clement's epistle,
without any sign of quotation, which yet cer-
tainly are quotations; because it appears that
Clement had St. Paul's epistle before him ; for
in one place he mentions it in terms too express
to leave us in any doubt. 'Take into your
hands the epistle of the blessed apostle Paul.'
3dly. That this method of adopting words of
Scripture, without reference or acknowledgment,
was a method in general use amongst the most
ancient Christian writers. St. Paul himself
quotes the heathen poet, Aratus, without naming
him. See ARATUS. These analogies not only
repel the objection, but cast the presumption on
t'ae other side ; and afford a considerable degree
of positive proof that the words in question
!iave been borrowed from the places of Scripture
in which we now find them. But take it the
oilier way, that Clement had heard these words
from the apostles or first teachers of Christianity ;
\\iih respect to the precise point of our argu-
ment, viz. that the Scriptures contain what the
apostles taught, this supposition may serve al-
most as well.
We have now traced the evidence to the
times of the apostles ; but we have not been
anxious to draw it out to a great length, by in-
troducing every thing. On the contrary, we
have been careful to render it as concise as pos-
sible, that its force might be discerned at a
glance. The evidence which has been stated is
of two kinds. Till the time of Justin Martyr
and Irenxus it consists chiefly of allusions, re-
ferences, and expressions, borrowed from the
books of the New Testament, without mentioning
them by name. After the time of Irenaeus it be-
came usual to cite the sacred books, and mention
the authors from which the citations were taken.
The only point of importance to be deter,
mined is, whether these references are a suffi-
cient proof of the existence of the books to
which they allude. This, we presume, will not
be denied ; especially in the present age, when
it is so common to charge an author with pla-
giarism, if he happen to fall upon the same train
of ideas, or express himself in a similar man-
ner wih authors who have written before him.
We may farther affirm, that these tacit references
afford a complete proof that those ancient
writers had no intention of imposing a forgery
upon the world. They prove the existence of the
Christian religion, and of the apostolical writings,
without showing any suspicious earnestness that
men should believe them. Had these books
been forged, those who wished to pass them upon
the world would have been at more pains than
the first Christians were to prove their authen-
ticity. They acted the part of honest men ;
they believed them themselves, and they never
imagined that others would suspect their truth.
It is a consideration of great importance, in
reviewing the evidence which has been now
stated, that the witnesses lived in different conn-
tries ; Clemens flourished at Rome, Polycarp at
Smyrna, Justin Martyr in Syria, Irenaeus in
France, Tertullian at Carthage, Origen at Alex-
andria, and Eusebius at Caesarea. This proves
that the books of the New Testament were
equally well known in distant countries by men
who had no intercourse with one another. The
same thing is proved by testimonies, if possible,
less exceptionable. The ancient heretics, whose
opinions were sometimes grosser and more im-
pious than those which any modern sectary
has ventured to broach, and whose zeal in the
propagation of them equalled that of the most
flaming enthusiast of the seventeenth century,
never called in question the authenticity of the
books of the New Testament. When they met
with any passage in the gospels or epistles which
they could not reconcile to their own heretical
notions, they either erased it, or denied that the
author was inspired ; but they nowhere con-
tend that the book in which it stood was not
written by the apostle or evangelist whose name
it bore. Eusebius relates that the Ebionites
rejected all the epistles of Paul, and called him
an apostate, because he departed from the Le-
vitical law ; and they adopted as their rule of
faith the Gospel of St. Matthew, though indeed
they greatly corrupted it. This proves, therefore,
that the Gospel according to Matthew was then
published, and that St. Paul's epistles were then
known.
Of the heretics who erased or altered passages
to make the Scriptures agree with their doc-
trines, we may produce Marcion as an instance,
who lived in the beginning of the second cen-
tury. He lived in an ag« when he could have
easily discovered if the writings of the New
Testament had been forged ; and as he was much
incensed against the orthodox party, if such a
forgery had been committed unquestionably he
would not have failed to make the discovery, as
it would have afforded the most ample means of
revenge and triumph, and enabled him to estao-
lish his own opinions with less difficulty But
SCRIPTURE.
hi* whole conduct shows clearly that he be-
lieved the writings of the New Testament to be
authentic. He said that the Gospel according to
S . Matthew, the Epistle to the Hebrews, with
those of St. Peter and St. James, as well as the
Old Testament in general, were writings not for
Christians but for Jews. He published a new
edition of the Gospel according to Luke, and the
first ten epistles of Paul ; in which it has been
affirmed by Epiphanius that he altered every
passage that contradicted his own opinions :
but as many of these alterations are what mo-
dern critics call various readings, though we re-
ceive the testimony of Epiphanius, we must not
rely upon his opinion. Dr. Loeffer wrote a
dissertation vindicating Marcion from this
charge. Hence it is evident that the books of
the New Testament above-mentioned did then
exist, and were acknowledged to be the works of
the authors whose names they bear.
Dr. Lardner, in his General Review, sums up
this head of evidence in the following words :
1 Noetus, Paul of Samosata, Sabellius, Marcel-
lus, Photinus, the Novatians, Donatists, Mani-
cheans, Priscillianists, beside Artemon, the Au-
dians, the Arians, and divers others, all received
most or all the same books of the New Testa-
ment which the Catholics received ; and agreed
in a like respect for them as written by apostles
or their disciples and companions.'
Celsus and Porphyry, both enemies of the
Christian religion, are powerful witnesses for the
antiquity of the New Testament. Celsus, who
lived towards the end of the second century, not
only mentions by name, but quotes passages from
the books of the New Testament : and that the
books to which he refers were no other than our
present gospels is evident from the allusions to
various passages still found in them. Celsus
takes notice of the genealogies, which fixes two
of these gospels ; of the precepts, resist not him
that injures you, and, if a man strike thee on the
one cheek, offer to him the Bother also ; of the
woes denounced by Christ ; of his predictions ;
of his saying that it is impossible to serve two
masters ; of the purple robe, the crown of thorns,
and the reed which was put into the hand of
Jesus ; of the blood that flowed from his body
upon the cross, a circumstance which is re-
corded only by John ; and (what is instar om-
nium for the purpose for which we produce it)
of the difference in the accounts given of the
resurrection by the evangelists, some mention-
ing two angels at the sepulchre, others only one.
It is extremely material to remark that Celsus
not only perpetually referred to the accounts of
Christ contained in the four gospels, but that he
referred to no other accounts ; that he founded
none of his objections to Christianity upon any
thing delivered in spurious gospels.
The testimony of Porphyry is still more im-
portant than that of Celsus. See PORPHYBIUS.
He was was born in 233, and died in 304, aged
seventy-one. Unfortunately for the present age,
says Michaelis, the mistaken zeal of the Chris-
tian emperors has banished his writings from the
world ; and every real frend of our religion
would gladly give the works of one of the pious
fathers to rescue those of Porphyry from the
flames. But Mr. Marsh, the learned and j«
dicious translator of Michaelis, relates that, ac-
cording to the accounts of Isaac Vossius, a MS.
of the works of Porphyry is preserved in the
Medicean library at Florence, but kept so secret
that no one is permitted to see it. It is univer-
sally allowed that Porphyry is the most sensible,
as well as the most severe adversary of the
Christian religion that antiquity can produce.
He was versed not only in history, but also in
philosophy and politics. His acquaintance with
the Christians was not confined to a single
country; for he had conversed with them in
Tyre, in Sicily, and in Rome. Enable! by his
birth to study the Syriac, as well as the Greek
authors, he was of all the adversaries to the
Christian religion the best qualified to enquire
into the authenticity of the sacred writings. He
possessed therefore every advantage which na-
tural abilities or a scientific education could af-
ford, to discover whether the New Testament
was a genuine work of the apostles and evange-
lists, or whether it was imposed upon the world
after the decease of its pretended authors. But
no trace of this suspicion is any where to be
found in his writings. In the fragments, which
still remain, mention is made of the gospels of
St. Matthew, St. Mark, and St. John, the Acts
of the Apostles, and the Epistle to the Gala-
tians ; and it clearly appears, from the very ob-
jections of Porphyry, that the books to which he
alludes were the same which we possess at pre-
sent. Thus he objects to the repetition of a
generation in St. Matthew's genealogy ; to
Matthew's call ; to the quotation of a text from
Isaiah, which is found in a psalm ascribed to
Asaph ; to the calling of the lake of Tiberias a
sea ; to the expression in St. Matthevv, ' the
abomination of desolation ;' to the variation in
Matthew and Mark upon the text ' the voice of
one crying in the wilderness.' Matthew citing
it from Isaiah, Mark from the prophets ; to
John's application of the term Word ; to Christ's
change of intention about going up to the feast
of tabernacles (John vii. 8) ; and to the judgment
denounced by St. Peter upon Ananias and Sap-
phira, which he calls an imprecation of death.
The instances here alleged serve in some mea-
sure to show the nature of Porphyry's objections,
and prove that Porphyry had read the gospels
with that sort of attention which a writer would
employ who regarded them as the depositories of
the religion which he attacked. Besides these
specifications, there exists in the writings of an-
cient Christians general evidence that the places
of Scripture, upon which Porphyry had made
remarks, were very numerous.
iii. The internal evidence of the authenticity
of the New Testament consists of two parts : —
The nature of the style, and the coincidence of
the New Testament with the history of the times.
1. The STYLE of the New Testament is singu-
lar, and differs very widely from the style of
classical authors. It is full of Hebraisms and
Syriasms; a circumstance which pious ignorance
has considered as a fault, and which, even so
late as the present century, it has attempted to
remove ; not knowing that these very deviations
from Grecian purity afford the strongest pre-
SCRIPTURE.
633
sumption in its favor ; for they prove that the
New Testament was written by men of Hebrew
origin, and is therefore a production of the first
century. After the deatli of the first Jewish con-
verts, few of the Jews turned preachers of the
gospel ; the Christians were generally ignorant
of the Hebrew, and consequently could not
write in the style of the New Testament. After
the destruction of Jerusalem, and the dispersion
of the Jews, their language must have been
blended with that of other nations, and their ver-
nacular phraseology almost entirely lost. The
language of the early fathers, though not always
the purest classic Greek, has no resemblance to
that of the New Testament, not even excepting
the works of the few who had a knowledge of the
Hebrew ; as Origen, Epiphanius, and Justin
Martyr, who, being a native of Palestine, might
liave written in a style similar to that of the New
Testament, had such a style then prevailed. He
that suspects the New Testament to be the forgery
of a more recent period ought to produce some
person who has employed a similar diction ; but
those who are conversant with eastern writings
know well that a foreigner, who has not been
inured to eastern manners and modes of think-
ing from his infapcy, can never imitate with
success the oriental style, much less forge a his-
tory or an epistle, which contains a thousand
incidental allusions which nothing but truth
could suggest. To imitate closely the style of
the New Testament is even more difficult than to
imitate that of any other oriental book ; for there
is not a single author, even among the Jews
themselves, since the destruction of Jerusalem,
that has composed in a style in the least degree
like it. The style of Clemens Romanus may
perhaps be an exception. By many eminent
critics it has been thought so like to that of the
Epistle to the Hebrews as to give room for the
opinion that Clement either was the author of
that epistle, or was the person who translated it
from the Syro-Chaldaic language, in which it
was originally composed.
But, though the books of the New Testament
bear so close a resemblance in idiom, there is a
diversity of style which shows them to be the
work of different persons. Whoever reads with
attention the epistles of Paul must be convinced
that they were all written by the same author.
An equal degree of similarity is to be found be-
tween the gospel and first epistle of John. The
writings of St. John and St. Paul exhibit marks
of an original genius which no imitation can ever
attain. The character of Paul as a writer is
drawn with great judgment by Michael is : —
' His mind overflows with sentiment, yet he
never loses sight of his principal object, but, hur-
ried on by the rapidity of thought, discloses fre-
quently in the middle a conclusion to be made
only at the end. To a profound knowledge of
the Old Testament he joins the acuteness of
philosophical wisdom, which he displays in ap-
plying and expounding the sacred writings ; and
Ins explanations are therefore sometimes so new
and unexpected that superficial observers might
!->e tempted to suppose them erroneous. The
fire of his genius, and his inattention to style,
iisi.. n frequently a twofold obscurity, he
being often too concise to be understood except
by those to whom he immediately wrote, and not
seldom on the other hand so full of his subject
as to produce long and difficult parentheses, and
a repetition of the same word even in different
senses. With a talent for irony and satire, he
unites the most refined sensibility, and tempers
the severity of his censures by expressions of
tenderness and affection ; nor does he ever forget
in the vehemence of his zeal the rules of modesty
and decorum. He is a writer, in short, of so sin-
gular and wonderful a composition that it would
be difficult to find a rival. The truly sensible
and sagacious Mr. Locke was of the same opi-
nion, and contended that St. Paul was without
an equal.'
2. Poems have been forged and ascribed to
former ages with some success. Philosophical
treatises might be invented which it would be
difficult to detect; but there is not a single in-
stance on record, where an attempt has been
made to forge a history or a long epistle, where
the fraud has not been either fully proved, or
rendered so suspicious that few are weak enough
to believe it. Whoever attempts to forge a his-
tory or an epistle in the name of an ancient au-
thor, will be in great danger of contradicting the
history or the manners of that age, especially if
he relate events which are not mentioned in ge-
neral history, but such as refer to a single city,
sect, religion, or school. The difficulty of forg-
ing such histories as the gospels, and such epis-
tles as those of Paul, cannot be overcome by all
the genius, learning, and industry, of any indi-
vidual or society of men that ever lived. They
contain a purer system of ethics than all the an-
cient philosophers could invent : they discover
a candor and modesty unexampled : they ex-
hibit an originality in the character of Jesus, and
yet such a consistency as the imagination of our
best poets has ever reached. Now it is a very
remarkable circumstance that histories, written
by four different men, should preserve such dig-
nity and consistency, though frequently relating
different actions of Jesns, and descending to the
most minute circumstances in his life. The scene
of action is too extensive, and the agreement of
facts with the state of the times as represented
by other historians is too close, to admit the pos-
sibility of forgery.
The scene of action is not confined to one
country, it is successively laid in the greatest
cities of the Roman empire ; in Rome, in An-
tioch, in Corinth, in Athens, as well as in Jeru-
salem and the land of Palestine. Innumerable
allusions are made to the manners and opinions
of the Greeks, the Romans, and the Jews ; and,
respecting the Jews, they extend even to the
trifles and follies of their schools. Yet, after the
strictest examination, the New Testament will
be found to have a wonderful coincidence and
harmony with Josephus, the principal historian
of these times, and an enemy of Christianity. It
has been a question who the soldiers were who
are said in the gospel of Luke to have addressed
John the Baptist in these words, What shall w,;
do? An answer to this question maybe found
in Josephus : Antiq. lib. 58. c. 5. § 1, 2. He-
rod the tetrarch of Galilee was engaged in a wai
634
SCRIPTURE.
with his father-in-law Aretas, a petty king in
Arabia Petraea, at the very time that John was
preaching in the wilderness ; and, the road from
Galilee to Arabia running through that wilder-
ness, the soldiers on their march had this inter-
view with the Baptist. A coincidence like this,
which has been overlooked by all the commenta-
tors, would not probably be attended to in a forgery.
Another instance of an agreement no less re-
markable we shall quote from the valuable work
of Michaelis. It has been a question of some
difficulty among the learned, who was the Ana-
nias who commanded St. Paul to be smitten on
the mouth when he was making his defence be-
fore the council in Jerusalem : Acts xxiii. 2 —
5. Krebs, in his remarks taken from Josephus,
has shown him to have been the son of Nebedeni.
But, if so, how can it be reconciled with chrono-
logy, that Ananias was, at that time, called high
priest, when it is certain from Josephus that the
time of his holding that office was much earlier ?
And how comes it to pass that St. Paul says, ' I
wist not, brethren, that he was the high priest ?'
The sacerdotal garb must have discovered who
he was ; a jest would have ill-suited the gravity
of a tribunal ; and a falsehood is inconsistent
with the character of St. Paul. All these diffi-
culties vanish as soon as we examine the special
history of that period : — ' Ananias the son of
Nebedeni was high priest at the time that Helena
queen of Adiabene supplied the Jews with corn
from Egypt, during the famine which took place
in the fourth year of Claudius, mentioned in the
eleventh chapter of the Acts. St. Paul, there-
fore, who took a journey to Jerusalem at that
period, could not have been ignorant of the ele-
vation of Ananias to that dignity. Soon after
the holding of the first council, as it is called, at
Jerusalem, Ananias was dispossessed of his of-
fice, in consequence of certain acts of violence
between the Samaritans and the Jews, and sent
prisoner to Rome ; but, being afterwards released,
fie returned to Jerusalem. Now from that pe-
riod he could not be called high priest in the
proper sense of the word, though Josephus has
sometimes given him the title of ap^itptvf, taken
in the more extensive meaning of a priest who
had a seat and voice in the Sanhedrim; and
Jonathan, though we are not acquainted with the
circumstances of his elevation, had been raised
in the mean time to the supreme dignity in the
Jewish church. Between the death of Jonathan,
who was murdered by order of Felix, and the
high priesthood of Ismael, who was invested
with that dignity by Agrippa, elapsed an inter-
val during which the sacerdotal office was vacant.
Now it happened precisely in this interval that
St. Paul was apprehended in Jerusalem ; and,
the Sanhedrim being destitute of a president, he
undertook of his own authority the discharge of
that office, which he executed with the greatest
tyranny. It is possible therefore that St. Paul,
who had been only a few days in Jerusalem,
might be ignorant that Ananias, who had been
dispossessed of the priesthood, had taken upon
himself a trust to which he was not entitled ; he
might therefore very naturally exclaim, ' I wist
not, brethren, that he was the high priest!' Ad-
mitiing him on the other hand to have been ac-
quainted with the fact, the expression must be
considered as an indirect reproof, and a tacit rt-
fusal to recognise usurped authority.' Could sucn
a correspondence as this subsist between truth ana
falsehood, between a forgery and an authentic
history ? or is it credible that these events conld
be related by any person but a contemporary ?
Impressed with the love of truth, and feel-
ing contempt as well as detestation at pious
frauds, we hesitate not to acknowledge that
in some particular facts there is a difference
either real or apparent between Josephus
and the writers of the New Testament. The
objections arising from these differences are of
two kinds ; 1. Such as would prove a book not
to have been written by the author to whom it
is ascribed. 2. Such as would prove that the
author was mistaken, and therefore not divinely
inspired. To the first class belongs the follow
ing objection : — St. Paul says (2 Cor. xi. 32)
that the governor of Damascus was under Aretas
the king; but if we are to judge from the eigh-
teenth book of the Jewish Antiquities, which
corresponds with the period of St. Paul's journey
to 'Damascus, this city must have belonged at
that time to the Romans ; and what authority
could Aretas, a petty king in Arabia Pe-
trcea, have in such a city ? In answer to this
question, J. G. Ayne, in a dissertation pub-
lished in 1755, has shown it to be highly
probable that Aretas, against whom the Ro-
mans, not long before the death of Tiberius,
made a declaration of war, which they neglected
to put in execution, took the opportunity of seiz-
ing Damascus, which had once belonged to his
ancestors; an event omitted by Josephus, as
forming no part of the Jewish history, and by
the Roman historians, as being a matter not flat-
tering in itself, and belonging only to a distant
province. 2dly, That Aretas was by religion a
Jew; a circumstance the more credible, when
we reflect that Judaism had been widely propa-
gated in that country, and that even kings in
Arabia Felix had recognised the law of Moses.
The difficulty then is so far removed that it
ceases to create suspicion against an epistle
which has so many evident marks of authenti-
city ; and it is only to be regretted that, in
order to place the subject in the clearest point of
view, we are not sufficiently acquainted with the
particular history of Damascus.
Examples of the second kind are such as, if
allowed their full force, might indeed prove a
writer not divinely inspired, but could afford no
reason to conclude that he was not the author of
the writings which bear his name, since mistakes
may be committed by the most accurate his-
torian. The chief difficulties of this nature are
found in the Gospel according to St. Luke, and
do not apply to the writings of Matthew, John,
Paul, and Peter. Laying aside the idea of in-
spiration altogether, let us enquire whether Luke
or Josephus be most entitled to credit in those
passages where they differ : which of them is
most accurate, and which of them had the best
opportunities of exploring the truth of the facts
which they relate. Now Josephus relates the
same story differently in different parts of his
works, and is sometimes equally mistaken ir
SCRIPTURE.
635
them all. We do not recollect to have seen such
inconsistencies in the writings of St. Luke.
Luke knew the characters, and witnessed many
of the facts, of which he speaks, and he could
receive the best information respecting those
facts which were transacted in his absence. Jo-
sephus was bom A. D. 37, some years after our
Saviour's ascension. Now it is a very important
observation of Michaelis that the period of his-
tory with which mankind are least acquainted is
that which includes the time of their childhood
and youth, together with the twenty or thirty
years immediately preceding their birth. Con-
cerning the affairs transacted during that period
we are much more liable to fall into mistakes than
concerning those of a remoter age. The reason
is, that authentic history never comes down to the
period of our birth ; our knowledge of the period
immediately preceding depends on hearsay; and
the events which pass within the first eighteen or
twenty years of our lives we are too young and
heedless to observe with attention. This must
have been more remarkably the case in the time
of Josephus than at present, when there were
neither daily papers nor periodical journals to
supply the want of regular annals. There was
no historian from whom Josephus could derive
any knowledge of the times that immediately
preceded his birth. There is a period then of
forty or fifty years, in which, even with the most
diligent enquiry, he was exposed to error.
When we find, therefore, the relations of
Luke and Josephus so different as not to be re-
conciled, it would be very unfair to determine,
without any further enquiry, in favor of Jose-
phus. Let their character, works, and situation,
be strictly examined; let their testimony be
duly weighed and compared ; and then let the
preference be given to that author who, accord-
ing to the strictest rules of equity and justice,
seems entitled to the highest degree of credit.
The decision of a jury, we shall venture to say,
would in every instance turn out in favor of
Luke.
Having thus ascertained the authenticity of the
books of the New Testament, the next thing to be
considered is their inspiration. It is certainly of
some importance to know how far the apostles
and evangelists were guided in their writings by
the immediate influence of the Spirit of God ;
though this knowledge, if attainable, is not
equally important with that of the authenticity
of these writings. Michaelis indeed asserts that
the divinity of the New Testament may be
proved whether we can evince it to be written
by immediate inspiration or not. ' The ques-
tion,' says he, ' whether the books of the New
Testament are inspired, is not so important as
the question whether they are genuine I The truth
of our religion depends upon the latter, not ab-
solutely on the former. Had the Deity inspired
not a single book of the New Testament, but
left the apostles and evangelists without any other
aid than that of natural abilities to commit what
they knew to writing, admitting; their works to
be authentic, and possessed of a sufficient de-
gree of credibility | the Christian religion would
nil Iv well founded. The miracles in- which
it is confirmed would equally demonstrate Us
truth, even if the persons who attested them were
not inspired, but simply human witnesses; and
their divine authority is never presupposed,
when we discuss the question of miracles, but
merely their credibility as human evidence. If
the miracles are true which the evangelists relate,
the doctrines of Christ, recorded in the gospels,
are proved to be the infallible oracles of God ;
and even if we admit the apostles to be mistaken
in certain not essential circumstances, yet, as the
main points of the religion which Christ com-
missioned them to preach are so frequently re-
peated, their epistles would instruct us as well in
the tenets of the Christian system as the works
of Maclaurin in the philosophy of Newton. It
is possible, therefore, to doubt, and even to deny,
the inspiration of the New Testament, and yet be
fully persuaded of the truth of the Christian re-
ligion ; and many really entertain these senti-
ments either publicly or in private, to whom we
should render great injustice, if we ranked them
in the class of unbelievers. Yet the Christian
religion would be attended with difficulty, if our
principium cognoscendi rested not on firmer
ground ; and it might be objected that sufficient
care had not been taken for those whose con-
sciences were tender, and who were anxiously
fearful of mistaking the smallest of the divine
commands. The chief articles, indeed, of Chris-
tianity are so frequently repeated, both by Christ
and his apostles, that even were the New Testa-
ment not inspired we could entertain no doubt
of the following doctrines : ' Jesus was the Mes-
sias of the Jews, and an infallible messenger of
God : he died for our iniquity ; and by the satis-
faction made by his death we obtain remission of
sins, if on our part be faith and amendment of
life ; the Levitical law is abolished, and moral
precepts with the ceremonies of baptism and the
Supper of the Lord, are appointed in its stead;
after the present follows an everlasting life, in
which the virtuous shall be rewarded and the
wicked punished, and where Christ himself shall
be the judge.'
' To the epistles indeed/ says Michaelis, ' in-
spiration is of real consequence ; but with respect
to the historical books, viz. the gospels and Acts
of the Apostles, we should really be no losers if
we abandoned the system of inspiration, and in
some respects have a real advantage. We should
be no losers, if we considered the apostles in his-
torical facts as merely human witnesses, as Christ
himself has done in saying, ' Ye also shall bear
witness, because ye have been with me from the
beginning,' John xv. 27. And no one that at-
tempts to convince an unbeliever of the truth of
Christianity, would begin his demonstration by
presupposing a doctrine which his adversary de-
nies, but would ground his arguments on the
credibility of the evangelists as human his-
torians, for the truth of the miracles, the death,
and the resurrection of Christ. Even those who
examine the grounds of their faith for their own
private conviction must treat the evangelists as
human evidence ; since it would be arguing in a
circle to conclude that the facts recorded in the
gospels are true because they are inspired, \\litn
we conclude the Scriptures to be inspired, in
636
SCRIPTURE.
consequence of their contents. In these cases,
then, we are obliged to consider the evangelists
as human evidence ; and it would be no detri-
ment to the Christian cause to consider them at
all times as such in matters of historical fact.
We find it nowhere expressly recorded that the
public transactions which the apostles knew by
their own experience, and of which St. Luke in-
formed himself by diligent enquiry, should be
particular objects of divine inspiration. We
should even be considerable gainers, in adjusting
the harmony of the gospels, if we were permitted
to suppose that some one of the evangelists had
committed an immaterial error, and that St.
John has rectified some trifling mistakes in the
preceding gospels. The most dangerous objec-
tions which can be made to the truth of our re-
ligion, and such as are most difficult to answer,
are those drawn from the different relations of
the four evangelists.
Before any enquiry is made respecting the in-
spiration of the books of the New Testament, it
is necessary to determine the reading of the
term ; for theologians have given to it a variety
of significations. Most of the German divines
make it to consist in an infusion of words as well
as ideas. Luther, Beza, and Salmasius, restrict
it to ideas alone. Doddridge understands by it
an intervention of the Deity, by which the na-
tural faculties of the mind were directed to the
discovery of truth. Warburton and Law think
it was a negative intervention to preserve the sa-
cred writers from essential errors. Some believe
every circumstance was dictated by the Holy
Ghost ; others suppose that no supernatural as-
sistance was granted except in the epistolary
writings. See INSPIRATION.
As there is an evident distinction between in-
spiration and revelation, and as the origin of the
Christian religion maybe still proved divine, even
though it were denied that those who record its
facts and doctrines were inspired in the act of
writing, it will be most judicious and safe to em-
ploy the word inspiration in that sense which can
be most easily defended and supported. By doing
this, much may be gained and nothing lost. It is
difficult to prove to a deist that the words of
Scripture are divine, because he sees that every
writer has words and phrases peculiar to him-
self. It is difficult also to prove that the ideas
were infused into the mind of the authors while
they were engaged in the act of writing ; be-
cause, concerning facts, they appeal not to di-
vine inspiration, but declare what they have
seen ana heard. In reasoning, they add their
own sentiments to what they had received from
the Lord, and subjoin, especially in their epistles,
things not connected with religion. The defi-
nition which Doddridge gives seems applicable
to ordinary gifts, or the usual endowments of
rational creatures, rather than to the extraordi-
nary gifts of the Holy Spirit, which were be-
stowed on the apostles. Those who maintain
that every fact or circumstance was suggested bv
divine inspiration will find it no easy matter to
prove their position. The opinion of Warbur-
toii and Law, with proper explanations, seems
most probable. The opinion of Grotiu«, that only
the epistles were inspired, may be easily refuted.
The proof of the authenticity of the New Tes-
tament depends on human testimony . the proof
of its inspiration is derived from the declaration
of inspired persons. In proving that the New
Testament is inspired, we presuppose its authen-
ticity ; that the sacred books were written by the
apostles whose names they bear ; and that they
have been conveyed to us pure and uncorrupted.
This we have already attempted to prove, and
we hope with success. The evidence of inspira-
tion is the testimony of Christ and his apostles,
which we receive as credible, because they con-
firmed their doctrines by miracles. From the
important mission of Christ and his apostles, we
infer that every power was bestowed which divine
wisdom thought expedient; and from their con-
duct we conclude that it is morally impossible
that they could lay claim to any powers which
they did not possess. It is proper, therefore, to
enquire into the declarations of Christ and his
apostles concerning the nature, degree, and ex-
tent of the inspiration bestowed upon the writers
of the sacred books.
If we consider Christ's more immediate pro-
mises of inspiration to the apostles, we shall find
that he has given them, in the most proper sense
of the word, at three several periods, 1st, When
he sent the apostles to preach the gospel ; '2dly,
In holding a public discourse relating to the
gospel, at which were present a considerable
multitude ; 3dly, In this prophecy of the destruc-
tion of Jerusalem. When he sent the apostles
to preach the gospel, he thus addressed them :
' When they deliver you up, take no thought
how or what ye shall speak; for it shall be given
you in that same hour what ye shall speak ;
for it is not you that speak, but the spirit of
your Father that speaketh in you.' The same
promise was made almost in the same words in
the presence of an immense multitude: Lukexii.
11, 12. From these passages it has been urged
that, if the apostles were to be inspired in the
presence of magistrates in delivering speeches,
which were soon to be forgotten, it is surely rea-
sonable to conclude that they would be inspired
when they came to compose a standard of faith
for the use of all future generations of Christians.
If this conclusion be fairly deduced, it would
follow that the writings of the New Testament
are the dictates of inspiration, not only in the
doctrines and precepts, but in the very words.
But it is a conclusion to which sincere Chris-
tians have made objections; for, say they,
though Christ promises to assist his apostles in
cases of great emergency, where their own pru-
dence and fortitude could not be sufficient, it
does not follow that he would dictate to them
those facts which they knew already, or those
reasonings which their own calm reflection might
supply. Besides, say they, if the New Testament
was dictated by the Holy Spirit, and only
penned by the apostles, what reason can be
given for the care with which Christ instructed
them both during his ministry and after his cru-
cifixion in those things pertaining to the kingdom
of God?
In answer to this we may observe that though
it be difficult to prove that the identical words of
the New Testament were dictated by the Holy
SCRIPTURE.
637
Spirit, or the train of ideas infused into tin?
minds of the sacred writers, there is one species
of inspiration to which the New Testament has
an undoubted claim. It is this, that the memo-
ries of the apostles were strengthened, and their
understandings preserved from falling into essen-
tial errors. This we prove from these words of
our Saviour, ' and I will pray the Father, and
he will give you another Comforter, that he may
abide with you for ever. He shall teach you all
things, and bring all things to your remembrance
whatsoever I have said unto you.' John xiv. 16,
26. This promise was surely not restrained to
the day of Pentecost; it must have been a per-
manent gift, enabling the apostles at all times to
remember with accuracy the discourses of our
Saviour. When the apostles therefore (Matthew
and John) relate those precepts of Christ which
they themselves had heard, they write indeed
from memory, but under 'the protection of the
Spirit, who secures them from the danger of mis-
take : and we must of course conclude that their
gospels are inspired.
Were we called upon more particularly to
declare what parts of the New Testament we
believe to be inspired, we would answer, The
doctrines, the precepts, and the prophecies,
every thing essential to the Christian religion.
From these the idea of inspiration is inseparable.
As to the events, the memory of the apostles was
sufficient to retain them. If this opinion be just,
it will enable ns to account for the discrepancies
between the sacred writers, which are chiefly
confined to the relation of facts and events.
I. Of the language of the New Testament
Scriptures. — All the books of the New Testament
weie originally written in Greek, except the
Gospel according to Matthew and the Epistle to
the Hebrews, which there is reason to believe
were composed in the Syro-Chaldaic language,
which in the New Testament is called Hebrew.
Various reasons have been assigned why the
greatest part of the New Testament was written
in Greek ; but the true reason is this: it was the
language best understood both by writers and
readers. Had St. Paul written to a community
in the Roman province of Africa, he might have
written perhaps in Latin ; but epistles to the in-
habitants of Corinth, Galatia, Ephesus, Philip-pi,
and Thessalonica, to Timothy, Titus, and Phi-
lemon, from a native of Tarsus, could hardly be
expected in any other language than Greek. The
same may be said of the epistles of St. Peter,
which are addressed to the Christians of differ-
ent countries, who had no other language in
common than the Greek; and likewise of the
epistles of St. James, who wrote to the Jews that
lived at a distance from Palestine, and were ig-
norant of Hebrew. The native language of St.
Luke, as well as of Theophilus, to whom he
addressed his gospel and Acts of the Apostles,
appears to have been Greek, and that St. John
wrote his gospel in that language, and not in
Hebrew, is by no means a matter of surprise,
since he wrote at Ephesus.
With respect to the Epistle to the Romans, it
may be asked indeed why St. Paul did not write
in Latin 1 Now, whoever proposes this question,
n.ujt presuppose that St. Paul was master of the
Latin language in such a degree as to find nu
difficulty in writing it; a matter which remains
to be proved. It is very probable that St. Paul
was acquainted with the Latin ; but, between un-
derstanding a language and being able to write
it, there is a very material difference. As St. Paul
was a native ol Tarsus, his native language was
Greek; he had travelled during several years
through countries in which no other language
was spoken, and when h« addressed the Roman
centurion at Jerusalem, he spoke not Latin, but
Greek. Is it extraordinary, then, that in writing
to the inhabitants of Rome he should have used
a language which was there so generally under-
stood ? It has been long remarked that Greek
was at that time as well known in Rome as
French in any court of modern Europe : that
according to Juvenal even the female sex made
use of Greek as the language of familiarity and
passion ; and that, in letters of friendship, Greek
words and phrases were introduced with greater
freedom than French expressions in German
letters, as appears from Cicero's epistles to At-
ticus, and from those of Augustus preserved in
the works of Suetonius. To this must be added
a material circumstance, that a great part of the
Roman Christians consisted of native Jews, who
were better acquainted with Greek than with
Latin, as either they themselves or their ances-
tors had come from Greece, Asia Minor, or
Egypt, in which Greak was the language of the
country. At least they read the Bible in that
language, as no Latin translation of the OKI
Testament at that time existed; and, the Chris-
tian church at that period consisting chiefly of
Jews, the heathen converts in Rome were of
course under the necessity of accustoming them-
selves to the Greek language. In short, St. Paul
in his Epistle to the Romans made use of a lan-
guage, in which alone those who were ignorant
of Hebrew could read the Bible. What has
been here advanced respecting the Epistle to the
Romans is equally applicable to the Greek of
St. Mark, on the supposition that it was written
at Rome.
To the above arguments may be added the
example of Josephus, who, as well as the apos-
tles, was by birth a Jew. He even lived in
Rome, which is more than can be said of St.
Paul and St. Mark, who resided there only a
certain time : he was likewise younger than
either ; he came to Italy at an age which is
highly suitable to the learning of a language, and
previous to that period had spent several years
in the Roman camp. The -Jewish antiquities,
the history of the Jewish war, and the account
of his own life, he wrote undoubtedly with a
view of their being read by the Romans ; and
yet he| composed all these writings in Greek.
He expresses his motive for writing his Greek
account of the Jewish war in the following
terms : ' That having written in his native lan-
guage (i. e. the Hebrew dialect at that time
spoken) a history of the war, in order that Par-
thians, Babylonians, Arabians, Adiabeues, and
the Jews beyond the Euphrates might be in-
formed of those events, he was now resolved to
write for the Greeks and Romans, who had not
been engaged in the campaigns, a more certain
638
SCRIPTURE.
account than had hitherto been given.' The
motives which induced Joseplms to write in
tJreek are fully as applicable to St. Paul and
St. Mark.
Michaelis has thus characterised the style of
the New Testament. ' The New Testament,'
says he, ' was written in a languase at that
time common among the Jews, which may be
named Hebraic Greek ; the first trace* of which
we find in the translation of the LXX. Every
man acquainted with the Greek language, who
had never heard of the New Testament, must
immediately perceive, on reading only a few
lines, that the style is widely different from that
of the classic authors. We find this character
in all the books of the New Testament, in a
greater or less degree, but we must not there-
fore conclude that they possess a uniformity of
style. The harshest Hebraisms, which extend
even to grammatical errors in the government of
cases, are the distinguishing marks of the book
of Revelation ; but they are accompanied with
tokens of genius and poetical enthusiasm of
which every reader must be sensible who has
taste and feeling. There is no translation of it
which is not read with pleasure even in the days
of childhood; and the very faults of grammar
are so happily placed as to produce an agreeable
effect. The gospels of St. Matthew and St. Mark
have strong marks of this Hebraic style ; the
former has harsher Hebraisms than the latter,
the fault of which may be ascribed to the Greek
translator, who has made too literal a version,
and yet the Gospel of St. Mark is written in worse
language, and in a manner that is less agreeable.
The epistles of St. James and St. Jude are some-
what better, but even these are full of Hebraisms,
and betray in other respects a certain Hebrew
tone. St. Luke has in several passages written
pure and classic Greek, of which the first four
verses of his gospel may be given as an instance ;
in the sequel, where he describes the actions of
Christ, he has very harsh Hebraisms, yet the
style is more agreeable than that of St. Matthew
or St. Mark. In the Acts of the Apostles he is
not free from Hebraisms, which he seems to have
never studiously avoided; but his periods are
more classically turned, and sometimes possess
beauty devoid of art. St. John has numerous,
though not uncouth, Hebraisms both in his
gospel and epistles ; but he has written in a
smooth and flowing language, and surpasses all
the Jewish writers in the excellence of narrative.
St. Paul again is entirely different from them all ;
his style is indeed neglected and full of He-
braisms, but he has avoided the concise and
verse-like construction of the Hebrew language,
and has upon the whole a considerable share of
the roundness of Grecian composition. It is
evident that he was as perfectly acquainted with
the Greek manner of expression as with the
Hebrew, and he has introduced them alternately,
as either the one or the other suggested itself the
first, or was the best approved.'
Michaelis has shown that the New Testament
not only contains Hebraisms, but Rabbinisms,
Syriasms, Chaldaisms, Arabisms, Latinisms, and
Persian words, of which he has exhibited many
specimens. To theologians, whose duty it cer-
tainly is to study the language of the New Tes-
tament with attention, we would strenuously
recommend the perusal of this work, which in
the English translation is one of the most va-
luable accessions to scriptural criticism that has
yet appeared. We speak of the English transla-
tion, which the large and judicious notes of Mr.
Marsh has rendered infinitely superior to the
original.
We shall here add a few remarks on the pe-
culiarities of the style and manner of the sacred
writers, particularly the historians. These re-
marks extend to the Old Testament as well as to
the New. 1. The first quality, for which the
sacred history is remarkable, is simplicity in the
structure of the sentences. The first five verses
of Genesis furnish an example, which consist of
eleven sentences. The substantives are not at-
tended by adjectives, nor the verbs by adverbs,
no synonymes, no superlatives, no effort at expres-
sing things in a bold, emphatical, or uncommon
manner. 2. The second quality is simplicity of
sentiment, particularly in the Pentateuch, arising
from the very nature of the early and unculti-
vated state of society about which that book is
conversant. 3. Simplicity of design. The sub-
ject of the narrative so engrosses the attention of
the writer, that he himself is as nobody. He
introduces nothing as from himself, no remarks,
doubts, conjectures, or reasonings. Our Lord's
biographers particularly excel in this quality.
This quality of style we meet with in Xenophon
and Caesar.
The evangelists may be ranked next to Gene-
sis for simplicity of composition in the sentences.
John and Matthew are distinguished for it more
than Mark and Luke. But the sentiment is not
so remarkable for simplicity in the evangelists
as in the Pentateuch. The reasons of this differ-
ence are, the state of the Jews was totally changed ;
their manners, customs, &c., split into factions
both in religion and politics. 2. The object of
our Lord's ministry, which is the great subject
of the gospels, was to inculcate a doctrine and
morality with which none of their systems per-
fectly coincided ; besides, being constantly op-
posed by all the great men, the greater part of
his history consists of instructions and disputes.
3. As it is occupied with what our Saviour said,
and what he did, this makes two distinctions
of style and manner ; that of our Saviour
and the sacred penman's. In their own charac-
ter, they neither explain nor command, promise
nor threaten, praise nor blame. They generally
omit the names of our Lord's enemies; thus di-
recting our hatred at the vices they committed,
not at the persons. They never mention such
persons without necessity; which is the case
with the high-priest, Pilate, Herod, and Judas :
the first three for the chronology, the fourth to
do justice to the eleven.
Herodias is indeed mentioned with dishonor,
but her crime was a public one. On the other
hand, all persons distinguished for any thing vir-
tuous are carefully mentioned, Joseph of Arima-
thea, Nicodemus, Zaccheus, Bartimeus, Jairus,
Lazarus, Mary, and Martha. They record their
own faults (Peter's, Thomas's), nor do they make
any merit of their confession. In one uniform
SCRIPTURE.
639
strain they relate the most signal miracles and
most ordinary facts.
From the narrative is excluded that quality of
style which is called animation. Nothing that
discovers passion in the writer, or is calculated
to excite the passions of the readers. Every
thing is directed to mend the heart. But, in the
discourses and dialogues of our Saviour, the ex-
pression, without losing any of its simplicity, is
often remarkable for spirit and energy. Respect-
ing harmony and smoothness, qualities which
only add an external polish to language, they
had not the least solicitude.
As to elegance, there in an elegance which re-
sults from the use of such words as are most in
use with those who are accounted fine writers,
and from such arrangements in the words and
clauses as have generally obtained their approba-
tion. This is disclaimed by the sacred authors.
But there is an elegance of a superior order more
nearly connected with the sentiment ; and in this
sort of elegance they are not deficient. In all the
oriental languages great use is made of tropes,
especially metaphors. When the metaphors em-
ployed bear a strong resemblance, they confer vi-
vacity ; if they be borrowed from objects which
are naturally agreeable, beautiful, or attractive,
they add also elegance. The evangelists furnish
us with many examples of this kind of vivacity
and elegance. Our Lord borrows tropes from
corn-fields, vineyards, gardens, &c.
As a valuable appendage to this part of our
subject, we subjoin Dr. Campbell's method of
studying the books of the New Testament. This
we offer to our readers as a beautiful instance of
tiie judicious application of philosophy to sacred
studies. It is the same method of discovering
truth, by analysis and induction, which was pur-
sued by Sir Isaac Newton with such astonishing
success, which since his time has been uniformly
practised in natural philosophy, and has been
also applied to chemistry, to medicine, to natural
history, and to the philosophy of the mind, by
the ingenious Dr. Reid. This is the path of
sound philosophy, which can alone lead to the
discovery of truth. In following it, our progress
may be slow, but it will be sure. If all the
theologians would steadily adhere to it, we
might then entertain the pleasant hope of dis-
carding for ever those absurd systems of religion
which are founded on single passages and de-
tached fragments of Scripture, and of establish-
ing opinions and doctrines on a solid foundation.
' 1 . To get acquainted with each writer's style ;
to observe his manner of composition, botli in
sentences and paragraphs ; to remark the words
and phrases peculiar to him, and the peculiar
application that he may sometimes make of or-
dinary words ; for there are few of those writers
who have not their peculiarities in all the re-
spects now mentioned. This acquaintance with
each can be obtained only by the frequent and
attentive reading of his works in his own lan-
guage.
' 2. To enquire into the character, the situa-
tion, and the office of the writer, the time, the
place, and the occasion of his writing, and the
people for whose immediate use he originally
intended his work. Every one of these particu-
lars will sometimes serve to elucidate expres-
sions otherwise obscure or doubtful. This
knowledge may in part be learned from a dili-
gent and reiterated perusal of the book itself,
and in part be gathered from authentic, or at
least probable accounts that have been trans-
mitted to us concerning the compilement of the
canon.
' 3. The next general direction is, to consider
the principal scope of the book, and the particu-
lars chiefly observable in the method by which
the writer has purposed to execute his design.
This direction is particularly applicable to the
epistolary writings, especially those of Paul
' 4. If a particular word or phrase occur,
which appears obscure, perhaps unintelligible,
the first thing we ought to do, if satisfied that
the reading is genuine, is to consult the context,
to attend to the manner wherein the term is in-
troduced, whether in a chain of reasoning or in
a historical narration, in a description, or includ-
ed in an exhortation or command. As the con-
clusion is inferred from the premises, or as from
two or more known truths a third unknown or
unobserved before may fairly be deduced ; so
from such attention to the sentence in connexion,
the import of an expression, in itself obscure or
ambiguous, will sometimes, with moral certainty
be discovered. This, however, will not always
answer.
' 5. If it do not, let the second consideration
be, whether the term or phrase be one of the
writer's peculiarities. If so, it comes naturally
to be enquired, what is the acceptation in which
he employs it in other places ? If the sense
cannot be precisely the same in the passage un-
der review, perhaps, by an easy and natural
metaphor or other trope, the common acceptation
may give rise to one which perfectly suits the
passage in question. Recourse to the other
places wherein the word or phrase occurs in the
same author is of considerable use, though the
term should not be peculiar to him.
' 6'. But 3dly, If there should be nothing in
the same writer that can enlighten the place, let
recourse be had to the parallel passages, if there
be any such, in the other sacred writers. By
parallel passages, I mean those places, if the dif-
ficulty occur in history, wherein the same or a
similar story, miracle, or event, is related ; if in
teaching or reasoning, those parts wherein the
same argument or doctrine is treated, or the
same parable propounded ; and, in moral lessons,
those wherein the same class of duties is recom-
mended ; or, if the difficulty be found in a quo-
tation from the Old Testament, let the parallel
passage in the book referred to, both in the ori-
ginal Hebrew, and in the Greek version, be con-
sulted.
' 7. But if, in these, there be found nothing
that can throw light on the expression of which
we are in doubt, the fourth recourse is to all the
places wherein the word or phrase occurs in the
New Testament, and in the Septuagint version
of the Old, adding to these the consideration of
the import of the Hebrew or Chaldaic word,
whose place it occupies, and the extent of signi-
fication, of which in different occurrences such
Hebrew or Chaldaic term is susceptible.
640
SCRIPTURE.
' 8. Perhaps the term in question is one of
those which very rarely occur in the New Tes-
tament, or those called aira£ Xeyo/«va, only once
read in Scripture, and not found at all in the
translation of the LXX. Several such words
there are. There is then a necessity, in the fifth
place, for recurring to the ordinary acceptation
of the term in classical authors. This is one of
those cases wherein the interpretation given by
the earliest Greek fathers deserves particular
notice. In this, however, I limit myself to those
comments wherein they give a literal exposition
of the sacred text, and do not run into vision
and allegory.' See ALLEGORY.
II. Of the ancient MSS. and early editions
of the ffew Testament.— The MSS. of the New
Testament are the natural source, from which
the genuine readings of the Greek Testament are
to be drawn. The printed editions are either
copies of more ancient editions, or of MSS., and
they have no further authority than as they cor-
respond to the MSS. from which they were ori-
ginally taken. By MSS. of the New Testament
we mean those only which were written before
the invention of printing. The most ancient of
these are lost, and there is no MS. now extant
older than the sixth century. Few contain the
whole New Testament; some contain the four
gospels; some the Acts of the Apostles -and
epistles ; and others the book of Revelation.
The greatest number are those which contain the
first part; those which have the second, or the
first and second together, are likewise numerous ;
but those of the third are extremely few. It
must be added, also, that in many MSS. those
epistles are omitted whose divine authority was
formerly doubted.
Wetstein, in collating many MSS. anew, made
discoveries which had entirely escaped the no-
tice of his predecessors. The fourth, class con-
sists of such as have been completely and accu-
rately collated more than once. The fifth class,
which is by far the most valuable, consists of
such as have been printed word for word, and
therefore form an original edition of the Greek
Testament. We can boast but of a very few
MSS. of this kind. Hearne printed at Oxford,
in 1715, the Acts of the Apostles in Greek and
Latin from the Codex Laudianus 3 ; Knittal has
annexed to his edition of Ulpilas, p. 53 — 118, a
copy of two very ancient fragments preserved in
the library of Wolfenbuttle ; the one of the four
gospels in general, the other of St. Luke and St.
John. Woide printed in 1786 the Codex Alex-
andrinus, a MS. of great antiquity ; and the
University of Cambridge has resolved to publish,
in asimilar manner, the Cod. Cant. I., or, as it is
sometimes called, the Codex Beza-, the care of
which is entrusted to Dr. Kipling, a publica-
tion which will be thankfully received by every
friend to sacred criticism. It was the intention
of the abbe" Spoletti, a few years ago, to publish
the whole of the celebrated Codex Vaticanus;
which would likewise have been a most valuable
accession, since a more important MS. is hardly
to be found in all Europe. He delivered for
this nurpose a memorial to the pope ; but the
design was not put into execution, either because
he pope refused his assent, or the abbe" aban-
doned it himself. See the Oriental Bible, vol.
xxii. No. 333, and vol. xxiii. No. 348.
' A very valuable library/ says Michaelis,
' might be composed of the impressions of ancient
MSS. which, though too expensive for a private
person, should be admitted into every university
collection, especially the Alexandrine and Cam-
bridge MSS., to which I would add, if it were now
possible to procure it, Hearne's edition of the
Codex Laudianus 3. A plan of this sort could
be executed only in England, by a private sub-
scription, where a zeal is frequently displayed in
literary undertakings that is unknown in other
countries; and it were to be wished that the
project were begun before length of time has
rendered the MSS. illegible, and the attempt
fruitless. £10,000 would go a great way towards
the fulfilling of this request, if the learned did
not augment the difficulty of the undertaking,
by adding their own critical remarks, and endea-
vouring thereby to recommend their publication
rather than by presenting to the public a faith-
ful copy of the original. Should posterity be
pilt in possession of faithful impressions of im-
portant MSS., an acquisition which would ren-
der the highest service to sacred criticism, all
these editions of the New Testament should be
regulated on the same plan as Hearne's edition
of the Acts of the Apostles.' It must be highly
flattering, to the patriotic spirit of an English-
man, to hear the encomiums which learned fo-
reigners have so profusely bestowed on our li-
berality in supporting works of genius and
learning and public utility. The plan which
Michaelis proposed to us, in preference to all
other nations in Europe, is noble and magnifi-
cent, and would certainly confer immortality on
those men who would give it their patronage
and assistance. There are many ancient .MSS.,
especially in Italy, which have never been col-
lated, but lie still unexplored. Here is a field
where much remains to be done. See Marsh's
Notes on Michaelis, vol. ii.p. 643, and Lectures
on Lady Margaret's professor of divinity in the
university of Cambridge, published in two
parts. Michaelis has given a catalogue of an-
cient MSS., amounting in number to 292, to
which he has added a short account of each.
We shall confine our observations to the two
most celebrated, the Alexandrine and Vatican
MSS., which we have chiefly extracted from
Michaelis.
The Alexandrine muntucript consists of four
volumes ; the first three of which contain the
Old Testament, the fourth the New Testament,
together with the first epistle of Clement to the
Corinthians, and a fragment of the second. In
the New Testament, which alone is the object of
our present enquiry, is wanting <he beginning as
far as Matthew xxv. 6,6 vtp^xoc »;px«ra«, likewise
from John vi. 50 to viii. 52, and from 2 Cor. iv.
13 to xii. 7. The Psalms are preceded by the
epistle of Athanasius to Marcellinus, and followed
by a catalogue, containing those which are to be
used in prayer for each hour, botu of the day and
of the night ; also by fourteen hymns, partly
apocryphal, partly biblical, the eleventh of which
is a hymn in praise of the Virgin Mary, entitled
Mapiac rijc StuTOicH : further the Hy-
S C R I P T li K Ji
641
potheses Eusebii are annexed to the psalms, and
his Canones to the gospels. It is true that this
has no immediate reference to the New Testa-
ment, hut may have influence in determining the
antiquity of the MS. itself. It has neither ac-
cents nor marks of aspiration; it is written with
capital, or, as they are called, uncral letters, and
has very few abbreviations. There are no inter-
vals between the words ; but the sense of a pas-
sage is sometimes terminated by a point, and
sometimes by a vacant space. Here arises a
suspicion that the copyist did not understand
Greek, because these marks are sometimes found
even in the middle of a word ; for instance, Levit.
v. 4, avo/ioc ' »; for avopoan, and Num. xiii. 29, fiu
Yffjjf. This MS. was presented to Charles I. in
1628, by Cyrillus Lucans, patriarch of Constan-
tinople. Cyrillus has given the following ac-
count : — We know so much of this MS. of the
holy writings of the Old and New Testament that
Thecla, an Egyptian lady of distinction (nobilis
fcemina ./Egyptia), wrote it with her own hand
1300 years ago. She lived soon after the council
of Nicaea. Her name was formerly at the end
of the book ; but when Christianity was sub-
verted in Egypt, by the errors of Mahomet, the
books of the Christians suffered the same fate,
and the name of Thecla was expunged. But
oral tradition of no very ancient date (memoria
et traditio recens) has preserved the remembrance
of it.' After all, its antiquity cannot be deter-
mined with certainty, though it appears from the
formation of the letters, which resemble those of
the fourth and fifth centuries, and the want of
accents, that it was not written so late as the
tenth. In this century it was placed by Oudin,
while Grabe and Schulze have referred it to the
fourth, which is the very utmost period that can
be allowed, because it contains the epistles of
Athanasius. Wetstein, with more probability,
has chosen a mean between these two extremes,
and referred it to the fifth century.
The public is now in possession of a perfect
impression of this MS., accompanied with a com-
plete and critical collection of various readings.
Dr. Woide published it in 1786, with types cast
for that purpose, without intervals between the
•words. The copy is so perfect a resemblance of
the original that it may supply its place. Its
title is Novum Testamentum Graecum e codice
MSS. Alexandrino, qui Londini in Bibliotheca
MusaM Britannici asservatur, descriptum. The
preface of the learned editor contains an accurate
description of the MS., with an exact list of all
its various readings, that takes up no less than
eighty-nine pages 7 and each reading is accom-
panied with a remark, in which is given an
account of what his predecessors Juninus,
Walton, Fell, Mill, Grabe, and Wetstein, had
performed or neglected. See ALEXANDRINE
COPY.
The Vatican manuscript contained originally
the whole Greek Bible, including both the Old
and New Testament ; and in this respect, as well
as in regard to its antiquity, it resembles none so
much as the Codex Alexandrinus, but no two
MSS. are more dissimilar in their readings, in
the New Testament as well as in the Old. After
th"1 gospels, which are placed in the usual order,
VOL. XIX
come the Acts of the Apostles, which are imme-
diately followed by the seven catholic epistles.
Professor Hwiid, in a letter dated Rome, April
12th, 1781, assured Michaelis that he had seen
them with his own eyes, and that the second
Epistle of St. Peter is placed" folio 1434, the se-
cond of St. John folio 1442, the third folio 1443:
then follow the epistles of St. Paul, but not ir
the usual order ; for the Epistle to the Hebrews
is placed immediately after those to the Thessa-
lonians. The epistles of St. Paul are divided
into ninety-three sections by figures written in
the margin with red ink ; but the Epistle to the
Galatians ends with 59, and that to the Ephesi-
ans begins with 70 ; the Epistle to the Hebrews,
on the contrary, begins with 60, and ends with
69. With the words a/iw/xovry 5t y, Ileb. ix. 4,
the MS. ceases, the remaining leaves being lost.
There is wanting, therefore, not only the latter
part of this epistle, but the epistles to Timothy,
Titus, and Philemon, with the Revelation of St.
John ; but this last book, as well as the latter
part of the Epistle to the Hebrews, has been
supplied by a modern hand in the fifteenth cen-
tury. In many places the faded letters have
been also retouched by a modern but careful
hand ; and when the person who made these
amendments, who appears to have been a man of
learning, found a reading in his own MS. which
differed from that of the Codex Vaticanus, he has
noted it in the margin, and has generally left the
text itself untouched, though in some few exam-
ples he has ventured to erase it. It is certain
that this MS. is of very high antiquity, though
it has been disputed which of the two in this re-
spect is entitled to the preference, the Vaticanus
or Alexandrinus. The editors of the Roman edi-
tion of the Septuagint, in 1587, referred the date
of the Vatican MS. to the fourth century, the
period to which the advocates for its great rival
refer the Codex Alexandrinus. More moderate are
the sentiments of that great judge of antiquity
Montfau^on, who, in his Bibliotheca Bibiiotheca-
rum, p. 3, refers it to the fifth or sixth century;
and adds that, though he had seen other MSS. of
equal antiquity, he had found none at the same
time so complete.
The Codex Vaticanus has a great resemblance
to the MSS. noted by Wetstein, C. D. .1
13. 33. 69. 102, and to the Latin, Coptic, and
Ethiopic versions ; but it is preferable to most
of them in being almost entirely free from those
undeniable interpolations, and arbitrary correc-
tions, which are very frequently found in the
above-mentioned MSS., especially in D. 1. and
62. It may be applied, therefore, as a mean
not only of confirming their genuine readings,
but of detecting and correcting those that are
spurious. It is written with great accuracy,
and is evidently a faithful copy of the more
ancient from which it was transcribed. But this
MS. has not throughout the whole New Testa-
ment the same uniform text.
As we have now a beautiful printed edition of
the Alexandrine manuscript, by Dr. Woide, it is
much to be wished that we had also an ex-
act impression of the Vatican manuscript. From
the superstitious fears and intolerant spirit of the
irquisition at Rome, all access to this MS. was
2 T
642
SCRIPTURE.
refused to the abbe Spoletti, who presented a
memorial for that purpose. Unless the pope
interpose his authority, we must therefore de-
spair of having our wishes gratified.
The most valuable editions of the Greek New
Testament are those of Mill, Bengel, and Wet-
stein. The edition of Mill, which Itas only
finished fourteen days before his death, occupied
the attention of the author for thirty years. The
collections of various readings which had been
made before the time of Mill, the Valesian, the
Barberini, those of Stephens, the London Poly-
glot, and Fell's edition, with those which the
bishop had left in manuscript, and whatever he
was able to procure elsewhere, he brought to-
gether into one large collection. He made like-
wise very considerable additions to it. He col-
lated several original editions more accurately
than had been done before : he procured extracts
from Greek manuscripts, which had never been
collated ; and of such as had been before collated,
but not with sufficient attention, he obtained
more complete extracts. It is said that he has
collected from MSS. fathers, and versions, not
fewer than 30,000 various readings. This collec-
tion, notwithstanding its many imperfections,
and the superiority of that of Wetstein, is still
absolutely necessary to every critic : for Wet-
stein has omitted a great number of readings
which are to be found in Mill, especially those
which are either taken from the Vulgate, or confirm
its readings. Mill was indeed too much attached
to this version ; yet he cannot be accused of
partiality in producing its evidence. Wetstein,
by too frequently neglecting the evidence in
favor of the Vulgate, has rendered his collection
less perfect than it would otherwise have been.
He likewise added, as far as he was able, read-
ings from the ancient versions; and is much to
be commended for the great attention which he
paid to the quotations of the fathers; the im-
portance of which he had sagacity enough to
discern. It cannot, however, be denied, that
Mill's Greek Testament has many imperfections,
and some of real importance. His extracts from
MSS. are often not only incomplete, but errone-
ous; and it is frequently necessary to correct
his mistakes from the edition of Wetstein. His
extracts from the oriental versions are also im-
perfect, because he was unacquainted with these
languages. The great diligence which Mill had
shown, in collecting so many various readings,
alarmed the clergy as if the Christian religion had
been in danger of subversion. It gave occasion
for a time to the triumphs of the deist, and exposed
the author to many attacks. But it is now uni-
versally known that not a single article of the
Christian religion would be altered, though a
deist were allowed to select out of Mill's 30,000
readings whatever he should think most inimical
to the Christian cause.
' In 1734 Bengel, abbot of Alpirspach, in the
duchy of Wirtemburg, published a new edition
of the Greek Testament. The fears which Mill
had excited began to subside upon this new pub-
lication ; for Bengel was universally esteemed a
man of piety. Bengel was not only diligent in
the examination of various readings, but in the
strictest sense of trie word conscientious ; for he
considered it as an offence against the Deity, if,
through his own levity or carelessness, he intio-
duced a false reading into the sacred text. His
object was not merely to make a collection of
readings, and leave the choice of them to the
judgment of the reader, but to examine the evi-
dence on both sides, and draw the inference : yet
he has not given his own opinion so frequently as
Mill, whom he resembled in his reverence for
the Latin version, and in the preference which
he gave to harsh and difficult readings before
those which were smooth and flowing. He was
a man of profound learning ; and had a cool and
sound judgment, though it did not prevent him
from thinking too highly of the Latin readings,
and of the Codex Alexandrinus ; with other
Latinising MSS. The imperfections of Ben-
gel's edition arise chiefly from his diffidence
and caution. He did not venture to insert into
the text any reading which had not already ap-
peared in some printed edition, even though he
believed it to be the genuine reading. In the
book of Revelation indeed he took the liberty to
insert readings which had never been printed ;
because few MSS. had been used in the printing
of that book.
The celebrated edition of John James Wet-
stein, which is the most important of all, and the
most necessary to those engaged in sacred criti-
cism, was published at Amsterdam in 1751 and
1752, in two volumes folio. No man will deny
that Wetstein's Prolegomena discover profound
erudition, critical penetration, and an intimate
acquaintance with the Greek MSS. It is a work
which, in many respects, has given a new turn to
sacred criticism, and no man engaged in that
study can dispense with it. Wherever Wetstein
has delivered his sentiments respecting a Greek
MS., which he has done less frequently than
Mill, he shows himself an experienced and saga-
cious critic. He is likewise more concise than
Mill in delivering his opinion, and does not sup-
port it by producing so great a number of read-
ings. But the critical rules which he has deli-
vered are perfectly just ; and in this respect
there is a remarkable agreement between him and
his eminent predecessors Mill and Bengel. In
regard to the Latin version alone they appear to
differ ; in Mill and Bengel it has powerful, and
perhaps partial advocates, but in Wetstein a
severe and sagacious judge, who sometimes con-
demns it without a cause. But, in consequence
of this antipathy to the Vulgate, his collection of
various readings is less perfect than it might
have been.
Wetstein, in his character of a critic, is per-
fectly honest.. With respect to his diligence and
accuracy, Michaelis does not pronounce him
faultless. But Mr. Marsh has examined the
examples on which Michaelis founds his asser-
tion, and declares that Michaelis is mistaken in
every one of them. The diligence of Wetstein
can scarcely be questioned by any who are ac-
quainted with his history. He travelled into
different countries, and examined with his own
eyes a much greater number of MSS. than an)
of his predecessors. His collection of various
readings amount to above a million ; and he has
not only produced a much greater quantity of
SCRIPTURE.
643
matter than his predecessors, but has likewise
corrected their mistakes. The extracts from
MS. versions, and printed editions of the Greek
Testament, which had been quoted by Mill, are
generally quoted by Wetstein. Whenever Wet-
stein had no new extracts from the MSS. quoted
by Mill, or had no opportunity of examining
them himself, he copied literally from Mill ; but
wherever Mill has quoted from printed editions,
as from the margin of Robert Stephen's for in-
stance, or from the London Polyglot, Wetstein did
rot copy from Mill, but went to the original
source, as appears from his having corrected
many mistakes in Mill's quotations. On the
whole it is surprising, when we consider the dif-
ficulties and labor which Wetstein had to en-
counter, that his errors and imperfections are so
few.
The proposal of Michaelis, however, of a new
collation of MSS., to form a complete collection
of various readings, is worthy the attention of the
learned. In mentioning this proposal Michaelis
says, Britain is the only country which possesses
'he will and the means to execute the task.
Should a resolution, he adds, be formed in this
island, so happily situated for promoting the
purposes of general knowledge ; to make the
undertaking a public concern, to enter into a
subscription, and to employ men of abilities in
collating MSS. both at home and abroad, they
would be able to do more in ten years than could
otherwise be done in a century. And could
this nation direct its attention to any object
more glorious or more useful than in ascertain-
ing the text of the sacred Scriptures, and giving
to posterity an accurate edition?
As the sense of Scripture, as well as all other
books, is affected by the punctuation, it is of im-
portance to determine whether the stops or
points which we find in the sacred books were
used by the sacred writers, or have been inserted
by modern transcribers. We are told by Mont-
faucon, in his Palaeographia Graeca, p. 31, that
the person who first distinguished the several
parts of a period in Greek writing, by the intro-
duction of a point, was Aristophanes of Byzan-
tium, who lived under Ptolemseus Epiphanes, in
the 145th Olympiad. But, though points were
•lot used in books before this period, they were
employed in inscriptions above 400 years B.C.
See Mont. Pal. Graec. p. 135. As the fact has
not been generally known that the ancients
pointed their MSS., and as it is an important
and interesting fact, we refer our readers to the
first six lines of St. John's Gospel, as they are
pointed in the Alexandrine MS. exhibited in
vol. I. p. 563.
Whether any points for making the sense were
used by the apostles, cannot be determined ; but
the points now in use have been invented since.
In the fourth century Jerome began to add the
comma and colon to the Latin version ; and they
were then inserted in many more ancient MSS.
In the fifth century Euthalius, a deacon of
Alexandria, divided the New Testament into
lines. This division was regulated by the sense,
so that each line ended where some pause was
lo be made in speaking. And when a copyist
was disposed to contract his space, and therefore
crowded the lines into each other, he placed a
point where Euthalius had terminated the line.
In the eighth century the stroke was invented
which we call a comma. In the Latin MSS.
Jerome's points were introduced by Paul Warn-
fried and Alcuin, at the command of Charle-
magne. *In the ninth century the Greek note of
interrogation (;) was first used. At the invention
of printing the editors placed the points arbitra-
rily, probably without bestowing the necessary
attention; and Stephens, in particular, varied
his points in every edition. The meaning of
many passages in the Scripture has been altered
by false pointing.
The ancients divided the New Testament into
two kinds of chapters, some longer and some
shorter. This method appears to be more ancient
than St. Jerome ; for he expunged a passage from
the New Testament which makes an entire
chapter. The longer kind of chapters were called
breves, the shorter capitula. St. Matthew con-
tained, according to St. Jerome, sixty-eight
breves; Mark contained forty-eight; Luke eighty-
three ; and John eighteen. All the evangelists
together consisted of 217 breves and 1126 capi-
tula. The inventor of our modern division into
chapters was Hugo de S. Caro, a French Domi-
nican friar who lived in the thirteenth century.
The ancients had two kinds of verses, one of
which they called <?«xot, and the other ptjjuara.
The remata were lines which contained a certain
number of letters like our printed books, and
therefore often broke off in the middle of a word.
Josephus's twenty books of antiquities contained
60,000 of them, though in Ittiquis's edition there
are only 40,000 broken lines. Stichi were lines
measured by the sense; according to an ancient
written list, mentioned by Father Simon, there
were in the New Testament 18,612 of these.
The verses into which the New Testament is now
divided are more modern, and an imitation of the
division of the Old Testament. Robert Stephens,
the first inventor, introduced them in his edition
in 1551. He made this division on a journey from
Lyons to Paris ; and, as his son Henry tells us
in his preface to the Concordance of the New
Testament, he made it inter equitandum ; i. e.
when he was weary of riding he amused himself
with this work at his inn.
This invention of the learned printer was soon
introduced into all the editions of the New Tes-
tament; and, it must be confessed that in con-
sulting and quoting the Scriptures, and in
framing concordances for them, a subdivision
into minute parts is of the greatest utility. But
all the purposes of utility could surely have been
gained, without adopting the hasty and indigested
division of Stephens, which often breaks tne
sense in pieces, renders plain passages obscure,
and difficult passages unintelligible. To the in-
judicious division of Stephens we may ascribe
a part of the difficulties which attend the inter-
pretation of the New Testament, and many of
those absurd opinions which have disgraced the
ages of the Reformation. For as separate verses
appear to the eyes of the learned, and to the
minds of the unlearned, as so many detached sen-
tences, they have been supposed to contain com-
plete sense, and they have accordingly been ex •
2T 2
644
SCRIPTURE.
plained without any regard to the context, and
often in direct opposition to it. Were any mo-
dern history divided into fragments, with as little
regard to the sense, we should soon find that as
many opposite meanings could be forced upon
them as have been forced upon the books of the
New Testament. The division into v%rses has
been still more injurious to the epistles than to
the gospels, for there is a close connexion be-
tween the different parts of the epistles, which
the verses entirely dissolve. It is therefore to be
wished that this division into verses were laid
aside. The Scriptures ought to be divided into
paragraphs, according to the sense ; and the
figures ought to be thrown into the margin. In
this way, the figures will retain their utility with-
out their disadvantages. Dr. Campbell, in his
beautiful translation of the gospels, has adopted
this method with great judgment and success ;
and he who will read that translation will per-
ceive that this single alteration renders the gos-
pels much more intelligible, and, we may add,
more entertaining.
Respecting the chronological order of the
books of the New Testament critics are by no
means agreed. The following table is from Mr.
Townsend's Chronological Arrangement, where
the conflicting opinions of chronologists have
been considered and decided upon with great
care : —
Book.
Author.
Place at which
it was written.
For whose use primarily
intended.
A.D.
Gospel of Matthew
Matthew
Judea
Jews in Judea
37
Gospel of Mark
Mark
Rome and Je-
Gentile Christians.
44
rusalem,
—
Acts of the Apostles
Luke
—
Epistle to the Galatians
Paul
Thessalonica
51
First to the Thessalonians
Corinth
—
Second to the Thessalonians
. .
52
Epistle to Titus
Nicopolis
53
First to the Corinthians
Ephesus
56
First Epistle to Timothy
Macedonia
56 or 57
Second Epistle to the Corinthians
Philippi
53
Epistle to the Romans
Corinth
Epistle to the Ephesians
Rome
61
Epistle to the Philippians
.
62
Epistle to the Colossians
.
—
Epistle to Philemon
-^___
—
Epistle of James
James
Jerusalem
Jewish Christians
—
Epistle to the Hebrews
Pa-;
Italy
Jews
—
Gospel of St. Luke
Lake
Achaia
Gentile converts
64
Second Epistle to Timothy
Pad
.65 or 66
First Epistle of Peter
Pete.
Jews and Gentile con-
verts
—
Second Epistle of Peter
Italy or Rome
Jewish and Gentile
Christians of the
Dispersion
—
Epistle of Jude
Jude
Probably
Syria
General
66
Boole of* RcvGltition
TrtTin
\<r, IVTin/M*
96
Three Epistles of John
*J Ul 1 II
-Yvjti .M JIIUI
96 to 106
Gospel according to John
III. — Of the historical books of the New Tes-
tament.—The word EYAITEAION signifies any
joyful tidings, and exactly corresponds to our Eng-
lish word Gospel. In the New Testament this
term is confined to 'The glad tidings of the com-
ing of the Messiah.' Thus, in Mat. xi. 5, our Lord
says, ' The poor have the gospel preached ; ' that
is, The coming of the Messiah is preached to the
poor. Hence the name of Gospel was given to
the histories of Christ, in which the good news
of the coming of the Messiah, with all its joyful
circumstances, are recorded.
That the Gospel according to MATTHEW was
composed, says Dr. Campbell, by one born a
Jew, familiarly acquainted with the opinions,
ceremonies, and customs of his countrymen ;
that it was composed by one conversant in the
sacred writings, and habituated to their idiom ;
a man of plain sense, but of little or no learning,
except what he derived from the Scriptures of
the Old Testament ; and finally, that it was the
production of a man who wrote from conviction,
and had attended closely to the facts and speeches
which he related, but who in writing entertained
not the most distant view of setting off himself
— we have as strong internal evidence as the na-
ture of the thing will admit, and much stronger
than that wherein the mind in ninety-nine cases
out of 100 acquiesces.
That the author of this history of our blessed
Saviour was Matthew, appears from the testi-
mony of the early Christians. It is attested by
Jerome, Augustine, Epiphanius, and Chrysostom
and in such a manner as shows that they knew
the fact to be uncontroverted, and judged it t?
be incontrovertible. Origen, who flourished in
SCRIPTURE.
645
the former part of the third century, is also re-
spectable authority. He is quoted by Eusebius
(Hist. lib. 6. c. 25), wherein he specially treats
of Origen's account of the sacred canon. ' As I
have learned,' says Origen, ' by tradition con-
cerning the four Gospels, which alone are re-
ceived without dispute by the whole church of
God under heaven ; the first was written by
Matthew, once a publican, afterwards an apostle
of Jesus Christ, who delivered it to the Jewish
believers, composed in the Hebrew language.'
In another place he says, ' Matthew writing for
the Hebrews who expected him who was to de-
scend from Abraham and David, says, the lineage
of Jesus Christ, son of David, the son of Abra-
ham.' The next authority is that of Irenaeus,
bishop of Lyons, who had been a disciple of
Polycarp. He says in the only book of his ex-
tant, that ' Matthew, among the Hebrews, wrote
a gospel in their own language, whilst Peter and
Paul were preaching the Gospel at Rome, and
founding the church there.'
Irenaeus had the best opportunities of informa-
tion, having been well acquainted in his youth
with Polycarp, the disciple of John ; no objec-
tion can therefore be made to his evidence. But
we can quote an authority still nearer the times
of the apostles. Papias, bishop of Hierapolis,
in Ceesarea, who nourished about 116, affirms
that Matthew wrote his gospel in the Hebrew
tongue, which every one interpreted as he was
able. Papias was the companion of Polycarp,
and besides must have been acquainted with
many persons who lived in the times of the
apostles. The fact, therefore, is fully established,
that Matthew, the apostle of our Saviour, was
the author of that gospel which is placed first in
our edition of the New Testament.
The next subject of enquiry respects the lan-
guage in which it was written. This we are as-
sured by Papias, by Irenaeus, and Origen, was
the Hebrew ; but this fact has been disputed by
Erasmus, Whitby, and others. But though we
are forced to acknowledge that the Gospel accord-
ing to Matthew which we possess is a translation,
it is evidently a close one ; and the very circum-
stance that it has superceded the original, is a
clear proof that it was thought equally valuable
by the ancient Christians. The language in
which the Gospel according to Matthew was ori-
ginally composed, and which is called Hebrew
by Papias, Irenaeus, and Origen, is not the same
with the Hebrew of the Old Testament ; it was
what Jerome very properly terms Syro-Chaldaic,
having an affinity to both langiiages, but much
more to the Chaldean than to the Syrian.
The time when this gospel was composed has
not been precisely ascertained. Irenaeus says that
' Matthew published his gospel when Peter and
Paul were preaching at Rome.' Now Paul ar-
rived at Rome A. D. 60 or 61, and probably suf-
fered martyrdom in A. D.65. This may be justly
concluded from comparing the relation of Tacitus
with that of Orosius, a writer of the fifth century.
Orosius having given an account of Nero's per-
secution of the Christians, and of the death of
the two apostles in it, adds, that it was followed
by a pestilence in the city, and other disasters.
And Tacitus relates that a pestilence prevailed in
the city, and violent storms took place in Italy
A. D. 65. Matthew's gospel was therefore
written between the year 60 and 65.
That this history was primarily intended for
the use of the Jews, we have, besides historical
evidencer'very strong presumption from the book
itself. Every circumstance is carefully pointed
out which might conciliate the faith of that na-
tion ; every unnecessary expression is avoided,
which might in any way serve to obstruct it.
There was no sentiment relating to the Messiah
with which the Jews were more strongly pos-
sessed, than that he must be of the race of Abraham,
and of the family of David. Matthew, therefore,
with great propriety, begins his narrative with
the genealogy of Jesus. That he should be born
at Bethlehem in Judea, is another circumstance
in which the learned among the Jews were uni-
versally agreed. His birth in that city, with some
very memorable circumstances that attended it,
this historian has also mentioned. Those passages
in the prophets, or other sacred books, which ei-
ther foretel any thing that should happen to him,
or admit an allusive appellation, or were in that
age generally understood to be applicable to events
which respect the Messiah, are never passed over
by the evangelist in silence. The fulfilment of
prophecy was always to the Jews, who were con-
vinced of the inspiration of their sacred writings,
strong evidence. Accordingly none of the eran-
gelists has been more careful than Matthew, that
nothing of this kind should be overlooked.
That which chiefly distinguishes Matthew's
writings from those of the other evangelists, is
the minute and distinct manner in which he has
related many of our Lord's discourses and moral
instructions. Of these his sermon on the mount,
his charge to the apostles, his illustrations of the
nature of his kingdom, and his prophecy on
Mount Olivet, are examples. He has also won-
derfully united simplicity and energy in relating
the replies of his master to the cavils of his ad-
versaries. Being early called to the apostleship,
he was an eye and ear witness of most of the
things which he relates. And Dr. Campbell
thinks, that Matthew has approached as near the
precise order of time in which the events happened
as any of the evangelists. See MATTHEW. The
Gospel according to Matthew is cited seven times
in the epistle of Barnabas, twice in the first epistle
of Clemens Romanus to the Corinthians, eight
times in the Shepherd of Hernias, six times in
Polycarp's epistle to the Philippians, and seven
times in the smaller epistles of Ignatius. These
citations may be seen at full length in Jones's
New and Full Method of Settling the Canon,
with the parallel passages in the Gospel according
to Matthew.
That MARK was the author of the gospel which
bears his name, and that it was the second in the
order of time, is proved by the unanimous testi-
mony of the ancient Christians. Many authorities
are therefore unnecessary : we shall only men-
tion those of Papias and Irenaeus. Eusebius
has preserved the following passage of Papias : —
' This is what is related by the elder (that is
John, not the apostle, but a disciple of Jesus).
Mark being Peter's interpreter, wrote exactly
whatever he remembered, not indeed in the or-
646
SCRIPTURE.
der wherein things were spoken an'd done by the
Lord ; for he was not himself a hearer or follower
of our Lord ; but he afterwards, as I said, followed
Peter, who gave instructions as suited the occa-
sions, but not as a regular history of our Lord's
teaching. Mark, however, committed no mistake
in writing such things as occurred to his me-
mory ; for of this one thing he was careful, to
omit nothing which he had heard, and to insert
no falsehood in his narrative.' Such is the testi-
mony of Papias, which is the more to be regarded,
as he assigns his authority. He spake not from
hearsay, but from the information which he had
received from a most credible witness, John the
elder, or presbyter, a disciple of Jesus, and a
companion of the apostles.
Irenaeus adds : — < After the departure (i£o-
Sov) of Peter and Paul, Mark also, the disciple
and interpreter of Peter, delivered to us in writ-
ing the things which had been preached by Peter.'
Mark's gospel was published in Peter's lifetime,
and had his approbation. It is supposed to be but
two years posterior in date to that of Matthew.
Mark has generally been supposed to be the
same person who is mentioned in the Acts and
some of Paul's epistles, who is called John, and
was the nephew of Barnabas. But as this per-
son was the attendant of Paul and Barnabas, and
is nowhere in Scripture said to have accompanied
Peter in his apostolical mission, which ancient
writers inform us. the author of the gospel did,
Dr. Campbell has concluded that these were dif-
ferent persons. The author of the gospel is
certainly meant by Peter, when he says, ' Mar-
cus my son saluteth you.' — 1 Pet. v. 13.
That Mark wrote his gospel in Greek, is con-
formable to the testimony of antiquity. From
the Hebraisms in the style, we should readily
conclude that the author was by birth and edu-
cation a Jew. There are also expressions which
show, that he had lived for some time among the
Latins, as Kivrvpiov, centurion, and <r;r£icX«aT a»p,
sentinel ; words which do not occur in the other
gospels. There are other internal evidences that
this gospel was written beyond the confines of
Judea. The first time the Jordan is mentioned,
wora/ioc, river, is added to the name for expla-
nation ; for though no person in Judea needed
to be informed that Jordan was a river, the case
was different in distant countries. The word Ge-
henna, which is translated hell in the New Tes-
tament, originally signified the Valley of Hinnom,
where infants had been sacrificed by fire to Mo-
loch, and where a continual fire was afterwards
kept up to consume the filth of Jerusalem. As
the words could not have been understood by a
foreigner, the evangelist adds, by way of expla-
nation, irvp TO a<r/3tTov, the unquenchable fire.
Instead of the word mammon, he uses the com-
mon term ^prj^ara, riches. When he employs
the oriental werd corhan, he subjoins the inter-
pretation o £?i tfwpov, that is, a gift. These pecu-
liarities corroborate the historical evidence, that
Mark intended his gospel for the Gentiles. See
Com
It has been affirmed that this evangelist has
been the abridger of Matthew. It is true that
Mark sometimes copies the expressions used by
Matthew ; but he is not to be considered as a mere
abridger, for he omits altogether several thing*
related by Matthew, viz. our Lord's pedigree,
his birth, the visit of the magians, Joseph's flight
into Egypt, and the cruelty of Herod. Dr.
Lardner has given a list of thirty-three passages,
wherein circumstances are related, which are
omitted by the other evangelists. There is one
parable and an account of two miracles, peculiar
to Mark. The parable is mentioned in ch.iv. 26.
One of these miracles was the curing of a deaf
and dumb man, ch. vii. 31 — 37. The other was
the giving sight to a blind man at Bethsaida, ch.
viii. 22, 26. The style of Mark, instead of being
more concise than that of Matthew, is more dif-
fuse. That he had read Matthew's gospel cannot
be doubted ; but that he abridged it, is a
mistake.
According to the testimony above quoted,
Mark derived his information from the apostle
Peter. Yet this evangelist has omitted many
things tending to Peter's honor, which are related
in the other gospels, and has given the most par-
ticular account of Peter's fall. This gospel is
seven times cited by Irenaeus, and nine times by
Tertullian.
That the author of the gospel, which is the
third in order, was LUKE, the companion of the
apostle Paul, is evident from the testimonies of
Irenaeus, Clemens of Alexandria, Origen, Te -
tullian, and many succeeding writers. But it h s
been disputed whether he was a Jew or a Gentile.
That Luke was a Jew by birth, or at least by re-
ligion, may be argued from his being a constant
companion of Paul. If he had been an uncir-
cumcised Gentile, exceptions would have been
made to him, especially at Jerusalem. It is also
rendered highly probable, from his mode of com-
puting time by the Jewish festivals, and from his
frequent use of the Hebrew idiom. It has been
supposed that Luke was one of the seventy dis-
ciples ; but he does not pretend to have been a
witness of our Lord's miracles and teaching ; on
the contrary, he tells us in his introduction, that
he received his information from others. The
design of Luke in writing his gospel was to su-
persede some imperfect and inaccurate histories
of our Saviour, which had then been published.
It has been supposed that Luke chiefly derived
his information from the apostle Paul, whom he
faithfully attended in his travels ; but from Luke's
own words, we may conclude, that the principal
source of his intelligence, as to the facts related
in the gospel, was from those who had been eye
and ear witnesses of what our Lord both did and
taught. It was from conversing with some of the
apostles or disciples of our Lord, who heard his
discourses and saw his miracles, that he obtained
his information. The time when this gospel was
written is not ascertained. But as Origen, Eu-
sebius, and Jerome, have ranged it after those of
Matthew and Mark, we have no reason to doubt
but they were written in the same order. The gos-
pel by Luke has supplied u* with many inter-
esting particulars which had been omitted both by
Matthew and Mark. It has given a distinct nar-
ration of the circumstances attending the birth of
John the Baptist and the nativity of our Saviour.
It has given an account of several memorable
incidents and cures which had been overlooked
SCRIPTURE.
647
by the rest ; the conversion of Zaccheus the
publican ; the cure of the woman who had been
bowed down for eighteen years ; the cure of the
dropsical man ; the cleansing of the ten lepers ;
the inhospitable treatment of our Saviour by the
Samaritans, and the instructive rebuke which he
gave on that occasion to two of his disciples for
their intemperate zeal ; also the affecting inter-
view which he had after his resurrection with two
of his disciples. Luke has also added many edi-
fying parables to those which the other evange-
lists had recorded. Most of these Irenaeus has
specified as particularly belonging to this gospel,
and has thereby shown that the Gospel of Luke
was the same in his time that it is at present.
The style of St. Luke abounds almost as much
with Hebraisms as any of the sacred writings ; but
it contains more of the Grecian idiom than any of
them. It is also distinguished by greater variety
and copiousness ; qualities which may be justly
ascribed to the superior learning of the author.
His occupation as a physician would induce him
to employ some time in reading, and give him
easier access to the company of the great, than
any of the other evangelists. As an instance of
Luke's copiousness, Dr. Campbell has remarked
that each cf the evangelists has a number of
words which are used by none of the rest ; but
in Luke's gospel the number of such peculiarities
or words used in none of the other gospels, is
greater than that of the peculiar words found in
all the other gospels put together ; and that the
terms peculiar to Luke are for the most part long
and compound words. He has also observed
that there is more of composition in Luke's sen-
tences than in the other three, and consequently
less simplicity. Of this the very first sentence
is an example, which occupies no less than four
verses. Luke, too, has a great resemblance to
other historians, in giving what may be called
his own opinion in the narrative part of this
work, a freedom which the other evangelists have
seldom or never used. He calls the Pharisees
lovers of money ; in distinguishing Judas Isca-
riot from the other Judas, he uses the phrase, he
who proved a traitor, (oc Kai tytviTo Trpotforijc)-
Matthew and Mark express the same sentiment
in milder language, ' he who delivered him up.'
In recording the moral instructions of our Lord,
especially in parables, Luke has united an affect-
ing sweetness of manner with genuine simplicity.
This gospel is frequently cited by Clemens Ro-
manus, the contemporary of the apostles, by Ig-
natius, and Justin Martyr. Irenaeus has made
above 100 citations from it. In his lib. iii. adv.
Haeres. c. 14, he vindicates the authority and
perfection of Luke's gospel, and has produced a
collection of those facts which are recorded only
by this evangelist. See LUKE.
That the gospel which is placed last in our
editions of the New lestament was written by
JOHN, our Saviour's beloved disciple, is confirmed
by the unanimous testimony of the ancient
Christians. See JOHN. He possessed a high de-
gree of intrepidity and zeal, a warm and affec-
tionate heart, and was strongly attached to his
master. He and his brother James were ho-
nored with the title of Boanerges, or Sons of
Thunder. He vvas anxious to restrain whatever
he considered as a mark of disrespect against his
Master, and to punish his enemies with severity.
He was incensed against some persons for at-
tempting to cast out demons in the name of Je-
sus ; and required them to desist because they
were not his disciples. James and he proposed
to our Saviour to call down fire from heaven to
punish the inhospitable Samaritans. But these
instances of bigotry were reproved by our Lord.
Nor was the courage of John less ardent than his
zeal. When Peter had disowned his Lord, and
all the other disciples had fled, John continued
to attend his master. He was present at his trial,
and followed him to the cross, where he was a
spectator of his sufferings and death. The inter-
view between Jesus and his disciple at Calvary,
though concisely related, is an event which will
strongly affect every man of feeling, while it con-
vinces him of the unalterable affection of Jesus
for his beloved disciple, as well as discovers his
respectful tenderness for his mother. See JOHN.
The ancients inform us that there were two mo-
tives which induced John to write his gospel ; the
one that he might refute the heresies of Cerin-
thus and the Nicolaitans, who had attempted to
corrupt the Christian doctrine ; the other that he
might supply those important events in the life
of our Saviour which the other evangelists had
omitted. Of the former of these motives Irenaeus
gives an account; but it seems very improbable
that an apostle should write a history of our Lord
on purpose to confute the wild opinions of Cerin-
thus or any other heretic. The intention of John
in writing his gospel was far more extensive and
important. It was evidently, according to Cle-
mens of Alexandria, to supply the omissions of
the other evangelists : It was to exhibit the evi-
dences of the Christian religion in a distinct and
perspicuous manner : It was, as he himself in
the conclusion of his gospel assures us, to con-
vince his readers, < that Jesus is the Messiah, the
Son of God, and that believing they might have
life through his name.' — John xx. 31. He has
executed his plan with astonishing ability, and
has given the most circumstantial and satisfactory
evidence that Jesus was the Messiah the Son of
God. After declaring the pre-existence of Jesus,
he gives the testimony of John the Baptist, and
selects some of the greatest miracles of Jesus to
prtrre his divine mission. In the fifth chapter
he presents us with a discourse which our Saviour
delivered in the temple in the presence of the
Jews, wherein he states in a very distinct manner
the proofs of his mission, from 1. The testimony
of John ; 2. His own miracles ; 3. The declara-
tion of the Father at his baptism ; 4. The Jewish
Scripture. Indeed the conclusion that Jesus was
the Messiah, the Son of God, naturally arises
from almost every miracle which our Saviour is
said to have performed, and from every discourse
that he delivered. This declaration i.« very often
made by our Saviour himself; particularly to
the woman of Samaria, to Nicodemus, and to the
blind man whom he had cured.
John studiously passes over those passages irt
our Lord's history and teaching which had been
treated at large by the other evangelists, or, if he
mentions them at all, he mentions them slightly.
This confirms the testimony of ancient writers,
648
SCRIPTURE.
that the first three gospels were written and pub-
lished before John composed his gospel. Except
the relation of our Saviour's trial, death, and re-
surrection, almost every thing which occurs in
this book is new. The account of our Saviour's
nativity, of his baptism, and of his temptation in
<he wilderness, is omitted ; nor is any notice
taken of the calling of the twelve apostl.es, or of
their mission during our Saviour's life. Not one
parable is mentioned, nor any of the predictions
relating to the destruction of Jerusalem. All the
miracles recorded by the other evangelists are
passed over, except the miraculous supply of
provisions, by which 5000 were fed. The other
miracles which are mentioned are few in number,
but they are minutely detailed. They are these r
the turning of water into wine at Cana ; the cure
of the diseased man at the pool of Bethesda ; the
cure of the man blind from his birth ; the restoring
of Lazarus to life ; and the healing of the servant's
ear which Peter had cut off. But valuable would
this gospel be though it had only recorded the
consolation of Jesus to his disciples previous to
his departure , which exhibits a most admirable
view of our Saviour's character, — of his care and
tender regard for his disciples. Having opened
every source of comfort to their desponding
minds, exhorted them to mutual love, and to the
obedience of his Father's precepts ; having
warned them of the impending dangers and sor-
rows— our Saviour concludes with a prayer, in
the true spirit of piety and benevolence ; ardent
without enthusiam ; sober and rational without
lukewarmness.
The time in which this gospel was written has
not been ascertained. Irenaeus informs ut; that
ST. MATTHEW.
2. Genealogy of Christ,
I. 1—17.
6. Joseph's dream, I
18—24.
8. Birth of Christ, 1. 25
11. Jesus sought and
worshipped by the wise
men : flight into Egypt and
return : massacre of the
children of Bethlehem, ch.
II. 1—23.
ST. MAKE.
it was written at Ephesus, but does not say wii
ther before or after John's return from Patnios-
He was banished to Patmos by Domitian, and
died at Ephesus A. D. 100. The persecution
which occasioned the exile of John commenced
in the fourteenth year of Domitian's reign. John
wrote his gospel after his return to Ephesus, as
is affirmed by Epiphanius, about the year 97.
Thrs gospel is evidently the production of an il-
literate Jew, and its style is remarkable for sim-
plicity. It abounds perhaps with Hebraisms more
than any of the other gospels ; and contains some
strong oriental figures which are not readily un-
derstood by any European. This gospel is cited
once by Clemens Romanus, by Barnabas three
times, by Ignatius five times, by Justin Martyr
six times, by Irenaeus often, and above forty times
by Clemens. Alexandrinus.
The following harmonised Table of the con-
tents of the four Gospels is taken from Marsh's
Translation of Michaelis's Introduction to the
New Testament, vol. iii. p. 40, &c., to which
we are so much in this paper indebted. The
arrangement of facts as they occur in St. Mat-
thew is here generally followed ; and the other
evangelists are collated with his account. The
author observes, ' I would not have the reader
suppose that the several facts here delivered are
arranged,without exception, according to the order
in which they really happened ; for it is my in-
tention to give rather a general index to the four
Gospels than to draw up a chronological table.'
The numbers prefixed to the several sections
point out the consecutive order of the facts as
well as it can be ascertained.
ST. LUKE.
1. Preface, I. 1—4.
III. 23—38.
3. Birth of John, I.
5—25.
4. Birth of Christ an-
nounced to Mary, I. 26
—38.
5. Mary's visit to Eli-
zabeth, I. 39—55.
7. Birth of John I.
56—80.
II. 1—20.
9. Circumcision of
Christ, II. 21.
1 0. Presentation of
Christ in the temple, II.
22—40.
12. Education of
Christ, and remarkable
history of linn in his
twelfth year, at the feast
ST. JOHN.
I. 1—14.
SCRIPTURE.
649
ST. MATTHEW.
13. John preaches, III.
1—12.
14. Christ baptised, III.
13—17.
15. Christ tempted,
i—ll
22. Arrives in Galilee
calls several disciples, anc
performs miracles, IV. 1
—24.
ST. MARK.
ST. LUKE.
V T
f the passover, II. 41
—52.
1,
r
I. 1—8.
III. 1—20.
1.
1 T
I. 9—11.
III. 21—23.
l ' .
1. 12—13.
IV. 1—12.
1
101
el
1111
Ch
bt
pie
n
Ch
01
Ga
wa
II.
at
OV(
er
II.
wh
i
me
io
23
f.
ad
Jo
ce
im
th
HI
th
lee
m;
in
UK
1
I. 14—21.
IV. 13, 14.
tic
at
ab
24. Christ teaches i
the synagogue at Naza
reth, IV. 15—30.*
ra
to
25 — 30. History of a single day, and that a sabbath.
25. Christ teache
in the synagogue a
Capernaum, and heal
a demoniac, I. 21—
28.
s
t
>
IV. 31—37.
ST. JOHN.
16. Remarkable addi-
ion made by this evan-
elist relative to the tes-
imonies in favor of
Ihrist, by which he
btained his first disci-
iles, who soon increased
n numbers, I. 15 — 52.
17—20. History of
Ihrist before the impri-
onment of John.
17. Christ returns to
Jalilee, and changes
water into wine at Cana,
I. 1—12.
18. Goes to Jerusalem
it the feast of the pass-
aver, and drives the sel-
ers out of the temple,
. 13—22.
19. Gives Nicodemus,
who visits him by night,
more complete informa-
ion of his doctrine, II.
23.— III. 21.
20. Remains in Judea :
additional testimony of
John the Baptist con-
cerning him,III. 22— 36.
21 . Returns (after the
mprisonment of John)
through Samaria to Ga-
lilee : conversation with
the woman of Samaria :
many Samaritans believe
in him, IV. t— 42.
IV. 43, 44.
23. Remarkable addi-
tion of a second miracle
at Cana, by which the
absent son of a man of
rank is at once restoied
to health, IV. 45—54.
* In point of chronology, this does not belong to the present place, not even according to St. Luke ; but
I place it here because St. Luke has introduced it immediately after the preceding history. Perhaps it
belongs to No. 50. though 1 have not placed it there, because it does not exactly agree with the accounts
quoted in that article from St. Matthew and St. Mark.
SCRIPTURE.
ST. MATTHEW,
27. Christ delivers a
discourse, in which he con-
demns the morality of the
Pharisees, and opposes to
it a better morality, which
he commissions his apostles
to teach, IV. 25. V. VI.
vn.
28. Cleanses a leper,
VIII. 1—4.
29. Heals the servant of
a centurion, VIII. 5—13.
30. Restores Peter's mo-
ther-in-law, and, after the
sabbath was ended, several
other sick persons, VIII.
14—17.
ST. MARK.
26. Christ ascends
a mountain, passes the
night in prayer, and
then chooses his apos-
tles, III. 13—19.
I. 40—45.
I. 29—34.
ST. LUKE.
VI. 18—16.
VI. 17—49.
V. 12—16.
VII. 1—10.
IV. 38—41.
ST. JOH*.
33.
The day immediately following the preceding sabbath.
31. Christ departs
from Capernaum, I.
35—39. IV. 42—44.
32. Restores to life
the young man at Nain,
VII. 11— 17.
33. Peter's copious
draught of fishes ; of
which no traces are dis-
coverable with respect
to the time when it hap-
pened, V. 1 — 11,
33—37. Another history of a single day, which was likewise a sabbath.
Christ defends his
disciples, who plucked ears
of corn on the sabbath
XII. 1—8.
34. Cures a withered
hand, XII. 9—21.
35. Drives out a devil,
and is accused of doing it
by the assistance of Beel-
zebub, the prince of the
devils. His answer, XII.
22—50.
37. Preaches in parables,
XIII. 1—53.
38. Christ endeavours to
retire from the multitude,
and sails to the other side
of the lake Gennesaret. Ac-
count of one who offers
himself to be a disciple of
Christ, and of another who
requests permission to re-
main witli his father till his
death. VIII. 18—27.
II. 23—28.
III. 1—12.
III. 20—35.
IV. 1—34.
IV. 35—41.
VI. 1—5.
VI. 6— 11.
XI. 14— 36. VIII. 19
—21.
36. Dines with a Pha-
risee : conversation at
table, XI. 37. XII. 12.
VIII. 4—18.
VIII. 22—25. IX. 57—
62.
ST. MATTHEW.
39. Drives out a devil,
who calls himself Legion
VIII. 28—34.
40. Heals a lame man,
IX. 1—8.
41 . Calls Matthew, and
Levi : dines with tax-ga-
therers, IX. 9—17.
42. Heals a woman
afflicted with an hemorrhage
and restores the daughter
of Jairus, who was sup-
posed to be dead, IX. 18
—26.
43. Restores two blinc
men to sight, IX. 27—31.
44. Restores a dumb
man to his speech, IX. 32
—34.
45. Sends out his twelve
Apostles, IX. 33— XI. 1.
46. Answers John, who
enquires of him whether
he is the Messiah, XI. 2 —
19.
47. Curses the cities in
which he had performec
the greatest part of his mi-
racles, XL 20—30.
50. Christ comes to Na-
zareth, where he is disre-
spectfully treated, XIII
54—58.
51. Herod, who had be
headed John, is doubtfu
what he should believe o
Christ, XIV. 1—13.
3. 5000 men fed wit
five loaves and two fishes
XIV. 14—36.
54. Discourses on wash
ing of hands, clean and un-
clean meats, and othe
Jewish doctrines, XV. 1 —
20.
SCRIPTURE.
ST. MARK. ST. LUKE.
651
V. 1—20.
V. 21.11. 1—12.
II. 13—22.
V. 23—43.
VI. 7—13.
VL 1—6.
VI. 14—29.
VI. 30—56.
VII. 1—23.
VIII. 26—39.
VIII. 40. V. 17—2o.
V. 27—39.
VIII. 40—56.
IX. 1—6, and (but a'
a later period) the seventy
disciples, X. 1—24*
VII. 18—35.
48. Is anointed by :
woman who had led ;
sinful life, VII. 35—50
49. Account of those
who ministered to Christ
on his travels, VIII. 1
—3.
Perhaps ch. IV. 15
— 30, which I placec
. 24, belongs to thi
article, and contains the
same history, but dif-
erently related.
IX. 7—9.
IX. 10— 17.
ST. JOHN.
52. Account of several
remarkable transactions
and discourses at a great
?estival in Jerusalem,
omitted by the other
evangelists, ch. V. en-
tire.
VI. entire.
* I place the sending out of the seventy disciples in the same article with that of the twelve apostles,
merely because the two facts resemble each other ; for we have no knowledge of the precise period in which
the former event happened. The evangelists themselves have often adopted a similar plan. — Michaelis.
652
ST. MATTHEW.
55. Christ heals the
daughter of a Canaanit
woman, XV. 21 — 28.
56. Performs several mi
racles, XV. 29—31.
57. Feeds 4000 men
with seven loaves and
few small fishes, XV. 32—
39.
58. Answers those wh
require a sign from heaven
XVI. 1—4.
59. Commands his dis
ciples to beware of the
leaven of the Pharisees
which command they mis
understand, XVI. 5—12.
61. Asks his disciple:
whom they suppose him to
be. Peter answers that hi
is the Messiah, which Jesu
confirms, XVI. 13—20.
62. Fortels his death on
the cross, XVI. 21—28.
63. Is transfigured on
a lofty mountain beyonc
Jordan, XVII. 1—13.
64. Cures a lunatic
XVII. 14—21.
65. Again foretells his
approaching sufferings,
XVII. 22, 23.
66. Pays the half sheke
as tribute for the service 01
the temple, XVII. 24—27
67. His discourses occa-
sioned by the dispute who
was the greatest in the
kingdom of heaven, XVIII.
1—20.
68. Answers Peter's
question, how often we
must forgive, XVIII. 21
35.
SCRIPTURE.
ST. MAKK. ST. LUKE.
VII. 24—30.
VII. 31—37.
vni. 1-10.
VIII. 1—13.
VIII. 14—21.
60. Restores a blinc
man to sight, VIII
22—26.
VII. 27—30.
VIII. 31— IX. 1.
IX. 2—13.
IX. 14—29.
IX. 30—32.
IX. 33—50.
IX. 18—21.
IX. 21—27.
IX. 28—36.
IX. 37—42.
IX. 43—45.
ST. JOHN.
X. 46—50. XVII. 1—
69—83. Single scattered accounts recorded
nly by St. Luke, some of which belong to the
iree or four last months of the life of Christ,
thers to an earlier period, and which are not ar-
ranged according to the order of time
69. Christ is refused
le offices of hospitality
y the Samaritans, IX.
1—56.
70. Answers the que«-
IOD, Who is our neigh-
our?X.26— 37.
71. Visits Martha a
second time : his dis-
burse relative to her too
anxious preparations for
table, X. 38—42.
72. Teaches his disoi-
les to pray, XI. 1—13.
SCRIPTURE.
653
ST. MATTHEW.
ST. MARK.
84. Answers the question
relative to divorces, XIX.
1—12.
85. Takes little children
into his arms and blesses
t'iem : and on this occasion
.eproves his disciples, XIX.
13—15.
86. Answers a rich
young man, who asked him
X. 1—12.
X. 13—16.
ST. LUKE.
73. Discourses occa
sioned by the reques
which a person preser
had made to Christ, tha
he would command hi
brother to divide wit
him his inheritance, XI]
13—59.
74. Discourses occa
sioned by Pilate's havin
put to death several Ga
iileans, and offered thei
blood in sacrifice, XIII
1—9.
75. Christ cures on
the sabbath day an in
firm woman, who wa
unable to walk upright
XIII. 10—22.
76. Answers the ques
tion, whether few o
many will be saved
XIII. 23—30.
77. Replies to those
who desire him to retire
Decause Herod sough
o put him to death
XIII. 31—38.
78. Dines with a Pha-
risee on the sabbath day
lis actions and dis-
courses on that occa-
sion, XIV. entire.
79. Dines with publi-
cans, and justifies hi?
conduct to those who
censure him. Accepta-
ion of the Gentiles:
XV. entire.
80. On this occasion
e instructs his disciples
n the true use of riches,
nd defends his doctrine
.gainst the Pharisees
who ridicule it, XVI.
ntire.
81. His discourse on
he extraordinary effects
)f faith, XVII. 5— 11.
82. Heals ten lepers,
>f whom the Samaritan
lone returned thanks,
CVI1. 11— 19.
83. Answers the ques-
ion, When the kingdom
f God should come
iVII. 20— XVIII. 14.
XVIII. 15—17.
ST. JOHN.
ST. MATTHEW
now he should obtain eter-
nal life. Christ's important
discourse on this occasion
with his disciples, XIX.
16— XX. 16.
87. Discourses again on
his approaching death, XX.
17—19.
88. The mother of the
sons of Zebedee requests
for them the first rank in
the kingdom of heaven.
Christ's answer, XX. 20 —
28.
93. Restores two blinc
men to sight, XX. 29—34
96. Christ is anointed a
Bethany by Mary : he de-
fends this action agains
the unjust censure of his
disciples, particularly o
Judas Iscariot, who form
the resolution to betra
him, XXVI. 6—13.
97. Christ's entry int
Jerusalem, XXI. 1—11.
98. He goes, as Lord
into the temple, and again
drives out the sellers : h
curses a fig-tree, XXI. 12
—22.
99. Answers the question
by what power he does this
XXI. 23—46.
100. Parable of the neg
lected festival of a king
XXII. 1—14.
101. Answer to tfo
question relative to tribute
money, XXII. 15—21.
102 Answer to the ob-
jection made by the Sad
•iucees to the resurrectio
SCRIPTURE.
ST. MARK. ST. LUKE.
X. 17—31.
X. 32—34.
X. 35—40.
X. 46—52.
XIv.3— 9.
XL 1—10.
XL 11—26.
XL 27. XII. 12.
XII. 13— 17.
XVIII. 18—30.
XVIII. 31—34.
ST. JOHN.
89 — 92. Supplement of several events and dis-
courses, omitted by the first three evangelists,
which took place especially at Jerusalem, and
which belong to the period between No. 53 and
No. 88.
89. Christ's actions
ind discourses at Jeru-
salem, at a feast of taber-
nacles, VII. 1—X. 21.
90. Discourses at Je-
rusalem, at the festival
of the dedication of the
temple, X. 22—42.
91. Christ raises La-
zarus from the dead, XL
1-52.
92. Returns to Ephr
raim, XL 54—57.
XVIII. 35—43
94. Visits Zaccheus,
XIX. 1—10.
95. Describes in a
parable the Jews who
rejected him, XIX. 11
—27.
XIX. 28—44.
XIX. 45—48.
XX. 1—19
XX. 20—26.
XII. 1—10.
XII. 9— It
ST. MATTHEW.
of the dead, XXII. 22—
33.
103. Answer to the ques-
tion, Which is the great
commandment of the law ?
XXII. 34—39.
104. The question pro-
posed, Whose son the Mes-
siah is ? XXII. 40—46.
105. Discourse against
the Pharisees, XXIII. en-
tire.
107. Prophecy of the
destruction of Jerusalem,
XXIV. entire.
108. Addition to the
preceding prophecy, found
only in the Gospel of St.
Matthew, XXV. 1—30.
109. Christ answers the
question relative to the last
judgment, XXV. 30—46.
110. After the preceding
discourses were ended he
attain foretels his approach-
ing death, XXVI. 2.
113. Judas Iscariot pro-
mises to betray Christ, and
receives thirty pieces of
silver, XXVI. 3—5, 14—
16.
114. Preparation for the
feast of the passover,XXVI.
17—19.
116. He sits down to
table, and speaks of his be-
trayer, XXVI. 20—25.
118. Institutes the holy
lupper, XXV. 26—29.
SCRIPTURE.
ST. MARK. ST. LUKE.
655
XII. 18-27.
XII. 28—34.
XII. 35—38.
XII. 39, 40.
106. Small alms-
offering of a widow
commended, XII. 41
—44.
XIII. entire.
XIV. 10,11.
XIV. 12—16.
XIV. 17—21.
XIV. 22—25.
XX. 27—40.
XX. 41—43.
XX. 44—47.
XXI. 1—5.
XXI. 6—38.
XXII. 1—5.
XXII. 6—13.
XXII. 14.
117. Presents to hL
apostles the cup of the
passover : his discourse
on that occasion, XXII
15—18.
XXII. 19, 20.
119. After supper he
speaks again of his be
trayer, XXII. 21—23.
ST. JOHN.
111. Of the Greeks
vho wished to see Je-
sus : Christ's discourse
on this occasion, and the
answer from heaven,
XII. 20—36.
112. Discourse on the
nfidelity of the Jews,
after the performance of
,o many miracles, XII.
37—50.
XIII. I.
115. Christ, before he
eats the feast of the pass-
over, washes the feet of
lis discipies, XIII. 1 —
20
xiii. 2i-eo,
656
ST. MATTHEW.
121. Christ goes into the
garden of Gethsemane, and
foretels to Peter that he
would deny him, XXV7!
30—35.
123. Prayer that the cup
might be removed from
him, XXVI. 36—46.
124. Christ is taken into
custody, XXVI. 47—56.
125. Brought before the
Sanhedrim, and condemn-
ed : is denied by Peter,
XXVI. 57—75.
126. Christ is led before
Pilate ; Judas hangs him
self, XXVII. 1—10.
127. Christ is accused
before Pilate, XXVII. 11
—23.
128. Is condemned to
death, XXVII. 24—31.
129. And crucified,
XXVII. 32—38.
130. Is reviled on the
cross, XXVII. 39—49.
132. Extraordinary
events at the death of
Christ, XXVII. 20—54.
134. Burial of Christ,
XXVII. 55—61.
135. Appointment of a
guard at his sepulchre,
XXVII. 62—67.
137. Resurrection of
Christ, and the first accounts
of it, which are brought by
the women, XXVIII. 1—
11.
SCRIPTURE.
ST. MARK. ST. LUKE.
120. Another dispute
among the apostles, who
should be the greatest in
the kingdom of God
XXII. 24— 31.
XIV. 26—31.
XIV. 32—42.
XIV. 43—52.
XIV. 53—72.
XV. I.
XV. 2—14.
XV. 15—20.
XV. 21—28.
XV. 29-37.
XV. 38— 41.
XV. 42—47.
136. The women
purchase spices to em-
halm the body ol
Christ, XVI. 1.
XVI. 2—8.
138. Further ac-
counts of it brought by
Mary Magdalene, who
sees Christ alone, and
is commanded to re-
port it to the apostles
XVI. 9, 10, 11.
XXII. 32—39.
XXII. 39—46.
XXII. 47—53.
XXII. 54—77.
XXIII. 1.
XXIII. 2—22.
XXIII. 23-25.
XXIII. 26—35.
XXIII. 36—46.
XXIII. 47—49.
XXIII. 50—56
XXIII. 56.
XXIV. 1—11.
ST. JOHIT
122. His discourse on
the way, XIII. 31—
XVII. 26.
XVIII. 1-12.
XVIII. 13-28.
XVIII. 29-XIX. 12.
XIX. 13-16.
XIX. 17-25.
131. Supplement of
several facts not recorded
>y the other evangelists,
XIX. 26-30.
133. Christ, on exa-
mination of the crucified,
s found to be already
dead ; and is moreover
>ierced in the side with
a spear, XIX. 31—37
XIX. 38—42
XX. 1-10.
XX. 11—18.
SCRIPTURE.
ST. MATTHEW. ST. MARK. ST. LUKS.
657
I
139. The guards bring
the account to the chief
priests, and are bribed to
say that the disciples had
stolen the body. XXVIII.
11—15.
I
140. Christ shows
himself a-live to the
two disciples, who
were going to Em-
maus, XVI. 12, 13.
141. Christ shows
himself to ten apostles,
and to several disci-
ples who were with
them, XVI. 14—18.
144. Christ shows him-
self in Galilee to all his
disciples, on a mountain,
where he had appointed
.nem, XXVIII. 16—20.
The book entitled the Acts of the Apostles con-
nects the gospels and the epistles. It is evidently
a continuation of Luke's gospel, which appears
both from the introduction and from the attesta-
tions of ancient Christians. Both are dedicated
to Theophilus; and in the beginning of the Acts
a reference is made to his gospel, which he calls
' a former treatise,' recording the actions and dis-
courses of Jesus till his ascension to heaven.
Luke is mentioned as the author of the Acts of
the Apostles by Irenaeus, Tertullian, Origen, and
Eusebius. From the frequent use of the first
person plural it is manifest that Luke was present
at many of the transactions which he relates. He
appears to have accompanied Paul fromTroas to
Philippi. He attended him also to Jerusalem,
and afterwards to Rome, where he remained for
two years. He is mentioned by Paul in several
of those epistles which were written from Rome,
particularly in the second epistle to Timothy, and
in the epistle to Philemon.
This book contains the history of the Christian
church for about twenty-eight or thirty years,
from our Saviour's ascension to Paul's arrival at
Rome in 60 or 61. As it informs us that Paul
resided two years in Rome, it must have been
written after the year 63 ; and, as the death of
Paul is not mentioned, it is probable it was com-
posed before that event, which happened A. D.
65. It may be divided into seven parts : — l.The
account of our Saviour's ascension, and of the
occurrences which happened on the first pente-
cost after that event, contained in c. i. li. 2.
VOL. XIX.
XXIV. 13-34.
XXIV. 36—49.
ST. JOHN.
XX. 19—23.
142. Eight days after
he shows himself to the
eleven apostles, Thomas
likewise being then pre-
sent, XX. 24—31.
143. Christ shows
himself to two disciples
and five apostles, at the
sea of Tiberias. Re-
markable discourse with
Peter and John, XXI.
entire.
The transactions of the Christians of the circum-
cision at Jerusalem ; in Judea, and Samaria, c.
iii. — ix., xi. 1 — 21 ; xii. 3. Transactions in Cae-
sarea, and the admission of the Gentiles, c. x.
4. The first circuit of Barnabas and Paul among
the Gentiles, c. xi. '22, xiii., xiv. 5. Embassy to
Jerusalem, and the first council held in that city,
c. xv. 6. Paul's second journey, c. xvi. — xxi.
7. His arrestment, trial, appeal to Caesar, and
journey to Rome, c. xxi. to the end of the book.
The Acts of the Apostles are cited by Clemens
Romanus, by Polycarp, by Justin Martyr, thirty
times by Irenseus, and seven times by Clemens
Alexandrinus.
IV. Of the epistolary writings of the New
Testament. All the essential doctrines and pre-
cepts of the Christian religion were certainly
taught by our Saviour himself, and are contained
in the gospels. The epistles may be considered
as commentaries on the doctrines of the gospel,
addressed to particular societies, accommodated
to their respective situations ; intended to refute
the errors and false notions which prevailed
among them, and to inculcate those virtues in
which they were most deficient. The plan on
which these letters are written is, first, to decide
the controversy, or refute the erroneous notions
which had arisen in the society to which the
epistle was addressed : and, secondly, to recom-
mend those duties which their false doctrines
might induce them to neglect; at the same time
inculcating, in general exhortations, the most im-
portant precepts of Christian morality.
2 U
658
SCRIPTURE.
Of the epistles, fourteen were written by St.
Paul. These are not placed according to the
order of time in which they were composed, but
according to the supposed precedence of the so-
cieties or persons to whom they were addressed.
The following is their chronological order ac-
cording to Dr. Lardner : —
A TABLE of ST. PAUL'S EPISTLES, with the
PLACES where, and TIMES when, written,
according to Dr. Lardner.
Epistles. Places. A. D.
1 Thessalonians Corinth ...... 52
2 Thessalouians Corinth ...... 52
p. i ,• $ Corinth or ) near the end of 52
3 ' ' I Ephesus $ or beginning of 53
1 Corinthians . Ephesus . the beginning of 53
1 Timothy . . Macedonia ..... 56
Titus . , . jMacedonia}bef.theendof56
I or near it J
2 Corinthians . Macedonia about October 57
Romans . . . Corinth . about February 58
Ephesians . . Rome . . about April 61
2 Timothy . . Rome . . about May 61
Philippians' . . Rome . . bef. the end of 62
Colossians . . Rome . . bef. the end of 62
Philemon . . Rome . . bef. the end of 62
Hebrews
in Spring of 63
A TABLE of the CATHOLIC EPISTLES, and the
REVELATION, according to Dr. Lardner.
Epistles. Places. A. D.
James . . . Judea . or beg. of
Thj, two Epistles jRome
1 John . . . Ephesus . . about . 80
2d and 3d of > P u S between 80
John . . i£Phesus ' { and . 90
Jude .... Unknown . . . 64 or 65
Revelation . . j P£tmos or \ . 95 or 96
S Ephesus S
It is more difficult to understand the episto-
lary writings than the gospels; the cause of
which is evident. Many things are omitted in
a letter, or slightly mentioned, because supposed
to be known by the person to whom it is ad-
dressed. To a stranger this will create much
difficulty. These causes of obscurity are com-
mon to all the writers of the epistles; but there
are some peculiar to St. Paul. 1. As he had an
acute and fertile mind, he seems to have written
with great rapidity, and without attending much
to method and arrangement. To this cause we
may ascribe his numerous and long parentheses.
In the heat of argument he sometimes breaks off
abruptly to follow out some new thought ; and,
when he has exhausted it, he returns from his
digression without informing his readers ; so
that it requires great attention to retain the con-
nexion. 2. His frequent change of person, too,
creates ambiguity ; by the pronoun I he some-
times means himself ; sometimes any Christian ;
sometimes a Jew, and sometimes any man. In
using the pronoun we, he sometimes intends
himself, sometimes comprehends his companions,
sometimes the apostles ; at one time he alludes
to ihe converted Jews, at another time to the
converted Gentiles. 3. There is a third cause of
obscurity ; he frequently proposes objections,
and answers them without giving any formal in-
timation. There are other difficulties which arise
from our uncertainty who are the persons he is
addressing, and what are the particular opinions
and practices to which he refers. To these we
may add two external causes, which have in-
creased the difficulty of understanding the epistles.
1. The dividing them into chapters and verses,
which dissolves the connexion of the parts, and
breaks them into fragments. If Cicero's epistles
had been so disjointed, the reading of them
would be attended with less pleasure and advan-
tage, and with a great deal more labor. 2. We
are accustomed to the phraseology of the epistles
from our infancy ; but we have either no idea
at all when we use it, or our idea of it is de-
rived from the articles or system which we have
Espoused. But, as different sects have arbitrary
definitions for St. Paul's phrases, we shall never
by following them discover the meaning of St.
Paul, who certainly did not adjust his phraseo-
logy to any man's system.
The best plan of studying the epistles is that
which was proposed and executed by Mr. Locke.
That acute and judicious author says, ' After I
had found by long experience that the reading
of the text and comments in the ordinary way
proved not so successful as I wished to the end
proposed, I began to suspect that reading a
chapter, as was usual, and thereupon sometimes
consulting expositors upon some hard places of
it, was not a right method to get into the true
sense of these epistles. I saw plainly that if any
one should write me a letter as long as St. Paul's
to the Romans, concerning such a matter as that
is, in a style as foreign, and expressions as du-
bious, as his seem to be, if I should divide it
into fifteen or sixteen chapters, and read one of
them to-day, and another to-morrow, &c., it is
ten to one I should never come to a full and
clear comprehension of it. The way to under-
stand the mind of him that wrote it, every one
would agree, was to read the whole letter through
from one end to the other all at once, to see
what was the main subject and tendency of it ;
or if it had several views and purposes in it, not
dependent one on another, nor in a subordination
to one chief aim and end, to discover what those
different matters were, and wnere the author con-
cluded one and began another ; and, if there were
any necessity of dividing the epistle into parts,
to make these the boundaries of them. In the
prosecution of this thought, I concluded it
necessary, for the understanding ot any one of
St. Paul's epistles, to read it all through at one
sitting, and to observe, as well as 1 could, the
drift and design of his writing it. If the first
reading gave me some light, the second gave me
more ; so I persisted on, reading constantly the
whole epistle over at once, till I came to have a
good general view of the apostle's main purpose
in writing the epistle, the chief branches of his
discourse wherein he- prosecuted it, the argu-
ments he used, and the disposition of the whole.
This, I confess, is not to be obtained by one or
two hasty readings ; it must be repeated again
and again with a close attention to the tenor of
SCRIPTURE.
659
the discourse, and a perfect neglect of the divi-
sions into chapters and verses.'
Mr. Locke tells us he continued to read the
same epistle over and over again till he disco-
vered the scope of the whole, and the different
steps and arguments by which the writer accom-
plishes his purpose. For he was convinced that
Paul was a man of learning, of sound sense,
and knew all the doctrines of the gospel by re-
velation. The speeches recorded in the Acts of
the Apostles convinced this judicious critic that
Paul was a close and accurate reasoner ; and
therefore he concluded that his epistles would
not be written in a loose, confused, incoherent
style. Mr I ocke accordingly followed the chain
of the apostle's discourse, observed his infe-
rences,, and carefully examined from what pre-
mises they were drawn, till he obtained a general
outline of any particular epistle.
That the Epistle to the ROMANS was written a.t
Corinth, by St. Paul, is ascertained by the testi-
mony of the ancient Christians. It was com-
posed A.D. 58, in the twenty-fourth year after
Paul's conversion, and is the seventh epistle
which he wrote. From the Acts of the Apostles
we learn that it must have been written within
three months ; for that was the whole period of
Paul's residence in Greece (Acts xx. 1, 2, 3).
The following analysis of this epistle is from a
valuable treatise, Dr. Percy's Key to the New
Testament. It exhibits the intention and argu-
ments of the apostle, in the most concise, dis-
tinct, and connected manner, and affords the
best view of this epistle that we have seen.
' The Christian church at Rome appears not
to have been planted by any apostle ; wherefore
St. Paul, lest it should be corrupted by the Jews,
who then swarmed in Rome, and of whom many
were converted to Christianity, sends them an
abstract of the principal truths of the gospel, and
endeavours to guard them against those erro-
neous notions which the Jews had of justifica-
tion, and of the election of their own nation.
Now the Jews assigned three grounds for justi-
fication. First, ' The extraordinary piety and
merits of their ancestors, and the covenant made
by God with these holy men.' They thought
God could not hate the children of such meri-
torious parents ; and, as he had made a cove-
nant with the patriarchs to bless their posterity,
he was obliged thereby to pardon their sins.
Secondly, ' A perfect knowledge and diligent
study of the law of Moses.' They made this a
plea for the remission of all their sins and vices.
Thirdly, ' The works of the Levitical law,' which
were to expiate sin, especially circumcision and
sacrifices. Hence they inferred that the Gen-
tiles must receive the whole law of Moses, in
order to be justified and saved. The doctrine of
the Jews concerning election was, ' That as God
had promised to Abraham to bless his seed, to
give him not only spiritual blessings, but also
the land of Canaan, to suffer him to dwell there
in prosperity, and to consider him as his church
upon earth :' That therefore this blessing extended
to their whole nation, and that God was bound
to fulfil these promises to them, whether they
were righteous or wicked, faithful or unbeliev-
ing. They even believed that a prophet ought
not to pronounce against their nation the pro-
phecies with which he was inspired ; but was
rather to beg of God to expunge his name out of
the book of the living. These remarks will
serve as a key to unlock this difficult epistle, Oi
which we shall now give a short analysis. See
Michaelis's Lectures on the New Testament.
i. The epistle begins with the usual salutation
with which the Greeks began their letters: chap. i.
1—7.
ii. St. Paul professes his joy at the flourishing
state of the church at Rome, and his desire to
come and preach the gospel (ver 8 — 1*9) : then
he insensibly introduces the capital point he in-
tended to prove, viz.
iii. The subject of the gospel (ver. 16, 17);
that it reveals a righteousness unknown before,
derived solely from faith, and to which Jew
and Gentiles have an equal claim.
iv. To prove this, he shows (chap. i. 18; iii.
20) that both Jews and Gentiles are ' under sin,'
i. e. that God will impute their sins to Jews as
well as to Gentiles. His arguments may be re-
duced to these syllogisms (chap. ii. 1. 17 — 24).
1. The wrath of God is revealed against tho«:e
who hold the truth in unrighteousness; i. e. who
acknowledge the truth and yet sin against it.
2. The Gentiles acknowledged truths; but partly
by their idolatry, and partly by their other de-
testable vices, they sinned against the truth they
acknowledged. 3. Therefore the wrath of God
is revealed against the Gentiles, and punisheth
them. 4. The Jews have acknowledged more
truths than the Gentiles, and yet they sin. 5.
Consequently the Jewish sinners are yet more
exposed to the wrath of God: chap. ii. 1 — 12.
Having thus proved his point, he answers certain
objections to it. Obj. 1. ' The Jews were well
grounded in their knowledge, and studied the
law.' He answers, If the knowledge of the law,
without observing it, could justify them, then
God could not have condemned the Gentiles,
who knew the law by nature: chap. ii. 13 — 16.
Oi;. 2. ' The Jews were circumcised.' Ans.
That is, ye are admitted by an outward sign into
the covenant with God. This sign will not avail
you when ye violate that covenant : chap. ii. 25,
to the end. Obj. 3. ' According to this doc-
trine of St. Paul, the Jews have no advantage
before others.' Ans. Yes, they still have advan-
tages ; for unto them are committed the oracles
of God. But their privileges do not extend to
this, that God should overlook their sins : chap,
iii. i — 19. 06;. 4. ' They had the Levitical
law and sacrifices.' Ans. From hence is no
remission, but only the knowledge of sin : chap,
iii. 20.
v. From all this St. Paul concludes that Jews
and Gentiles may be justified by the same means,
without the Levitical law, through faith in Christ:
And, in opposition to the imaginary advantages
of the Jews, he states the declaration of Zecha-
riah, that God is the God of the Gentiles as well
as of the Jews : chap. iii. 21, to the end.
vi. As the whole blessing wa>> promised to
the faithful descendants of Abraham, whom both
Scripture and the Jews call his children, he
proves his former assertion from the example of
Abraham ; who was an idolater before his call,
2U2
660
SCRIPTURE.
but was declared just by God, on account of his
faith, long before his circumcision. Hence he
takes occasion to explain the nature and fruits
of faith : chap iv. 1 , v. 11.
vii. He goes on to prove, from God's justice,
that the Jews had no advantage over the Gen-
tiles with respect to justification. Both Jews
and Gentiles had forfeited life and immortality,
by the means of one common father of their
race, whom they themselves had not chosen.
Now as God was willing to restore immortality
by a new spiritual head of a covenant, viz.
Christ, it was just that both Jews and Gentiles
should share in this new representative of the
whole race : chap. v. 12, to the end. Chap. v.
ver. 15, 16, amounts to this negative question: —
' Is it not fitting that the free gift should extend
as far as the offence ?'
viii. He shows that the doctrine of justifica-
tion, as stated by him, lays us under the strong-
est obligations to holiness : chap vi. 1, to the end.
ix. He shows that the law of Moses no longer
concerns us at all; for our justification arises
from our appearing, in God's sight, as if actually
dead with Christ on account of our sins ; but
the law of Moses was not given to the dead.
On this occasion he proves at large that the
eternal power of God over us is not affected by
this ; and that, whilst we are under the law of
Moses, we perpetually become subject to death,
even by sins of inadvertency : chap. vii. 1, to
the end.
x. Hence he concludes that all those, and
those only, who are united with Christ, and for
the sake of his union do not live according to
the flesh, are free from all condemnation of the
law, and have an undoubted share in eternal life :
chap. viii. 1 — 17.
xi. Having described their blessedness, he is
aware that the Jews, who expected a temporal
happiness, would object to him, that Christians
notwithstanding endure much suffering in this
world . He answers this objection at large : chap,
viii. 18, to the end.
xii. He shows that God is not the less true
and faithful, because he doth not justify, but
rather rejects and punishes, those Jews who
would not believe the Messiah : chap, ix., x., xi.
In discussing this point, we may observe the
cautious manner in which, on account of the
Jewish prejudices, he introduces it (chap.
ix. 1 — 5), as well as in the discussion itself. He
shows that the promises of God were never made
to all the posterity of Abraham, and that God
always reserved to himself the power of choosing
those sons of Abraham, whom, for Abraham's
sake, he intended to bless, and of punishing the
wicked sons of Abraham ; and that, with respect
to temporal happiness or misery, he was not
even determined in his choice by their works.
Thus he rejected Ishmael, Esau, the Israelites in
the time of Moses, and the greater part of that
feople in the time of Isaiah : chap. ix. 6 — 29.
Ie then shows that God had reason to reject
most of the Jews then living, because they
would not believe in the Messiah, though the
gospel had been preached to them : chap. ix. 30,
x. to the end. However, that God had not re-
jected all his people, but was still fulfilling his
promise upon many thousand natural descendants
of Abraham, who believed in the Messiah, and
would in a future period fulfil them upon more ;
for that all Israel would be converted : chap,
xi. 1 — 32. And he concludes with admiring
the wise counsels of God : ver. 33, to the end.
xiii. From the doctrine hitherto laid down,
and particularly from this, that God has in mercy
accepted the Gentiles; he argues that the Ro-
mans should consecrate and offer themselves up
wholly to God. This leads him to mention in
particular some Christian duties (chap, xii.), viz.
xiv. He exhorts them to be subject to magis-
trates (chap. xiii. I — 7), the Jews at that time
being given to sedition.
xv. To love one another heartily : ver .2 — 10;
And,
xvi. To abstain from those vices which were
considered as things indifferent among the Gen-
tiles : ver. 11, to the end.
xvii. He exhorts the Jews and Gentiles -in the
Christian church to brotherly unity : chap. xiv. 2 ;
xv. 13.
xviii. He concludes his epistle with an ex-
cuse for having admonished the Romans, whom
he had not converted; with an account of his
journey to Jerusalem ; and with some saluta-
tions to those persons whom he meant to recom-
mend to the church at Rome. See Michaelis's
Lectures.
CORINTH was a wealthy and luxurious city of
Greece. In this city Paul hadj spent two years
founding a Christian church, which consisted of
a mixture of Jews and Gentiles, but the greater
part Gentiles. About three years after the
apostle had left Corinth he wrote this epistle
from Ephesus, A. D. 56, in the beginning of
Nero's reign. That it was written from Ephesus
appears from the salutation with which the
epistle closes : chap. xvi. 1 9. From these
words it is evident, 1st, that the epistle was
written in Asia. 2dly, from Acts xviii. 18, 19,
that Aquilaand Priscilla accompanied Paul from
Corinth to Ephesus. St. Paul had certainly
kept up a constant intercourse with the churches
which he had founded ; for he was evidently
acquainted with all their revolutions. They
seem to have applied to him for advice in those
difficult cases which their own understanding
could not solve ; and he was ready on all occa-
sions to correct their mistakes. This epistle
consists of two parts. 1. A reproof for those
vices to which they were most prone. 2. An
answer to some queries which they had proposed
to him.
The Corinthians, like the other Greeks, had
been accustomed to see their philosophers divide
themselves into different sects; and, as they
brought along with them into the Christian
church their former opinions and customs, they
wished, as before, to arrange themselves under
different leaders. In this epistle Paul con-
demns these divisions, as inconsistent with the
spirit of Christianity, which inculcates benevo-
lence and unanimity, and as opposite to the con-
duct of Christian teachers, who did not, like the
philosophers, aspire after the praise of eloquence
and wisdom. They laid no claim to these, nor
to any honor that cometh from men. He de-
SCRIPTURE.
661
dares that the Christian truths were revealed
from heaven ; that they were taught with great
plainness and simplicity, and proved by the
evidence of miracles : chap. i. 1. He dissuades
them from their divisions, by reminding them of
the great trial which every man's work must
undergo ; of the guilt they incurred by polluting
the church of God ; of the vanity of human
wisdom; and of glorying in men. He ad-
monishes them to esteem the teachers of the
gospel only as the servants of Christ ; and to
remember that every superior advantage which
they enjoyed was to be ascribed to the goodness
of God : chap. iii. 4.
2. In the fifth chapter the apostle considers
the case of a notorious offender, who had mar-
ried his step-mother ; and tells them that he
ought to be excommunicated. He also exhorts
the Christians not to associate with any person
whe led such an openly profane life.
3. He censures the Corinthians for their liti-
gious disposition, which caused them to prose-
cute their Christian brethren before the heathen
courts. He expresses much surprise that they
did not refer their differences to their brethren ;
and concludes his exhortations on this subject
by assuring them that they ought rather to allow
themselves to be defrauded than to seek redress
from heathens : chap. v. 1 — 9.
4. He inveighs against those vices to which
the Corinthians had been addicted before their
conversion, and especially against fornication ;
the criminality of which they did not fully per-
ceive, as this vice was generally overlooked in
the systems of the philosophers : chap. vi. 9 — 20.
Having thus pointed out the public irregulari-
ties with which they were chargeable, he next
replies to certain questions which the Corinthi-
ans had proposed to him by letter.
1. He determines some questions relating to
the marriage state; as 1st, Whether it was good
to marry under the existing circumstances of the
church ? And 2d, Whether they should withdraw
from their partners if they continued unbeliev-
ers? chap. vii.
2. He instructs them how to act with respect
to idol offerings. It could not be unlawful in
itself to eat the food which had been offered to
idols ; for the consecration of flesh or wine to an
idol did not make it the property of the idol, an
idol being nothing, and therefore • incapable of
property. But some Corinthians thought it law-
ful to go to a feast in the idol temples, which
were places of resort for lewdness, and to eat
the sacrifices whilst praises were sung to the
idols. This was publicly joining in the idolatry.
He even advises to abstain from such participa-
tion as was lawful, rather than give offence to a
weak brother, which he enforces by his own
example, who had abstained from many lawful
things, rather than prove a scandal to the gospel :
chap, viii., ix., x.
3. He answers a third query concerning the
manner in which women should deliver any
thing in public, when called to it by a divine
imputse. And here he censures the unusual dress
of Doth sexes in prophesying, which exposed
them to the contempt of the Greeks, among
whom the men usually went uncovered, and the
women veiled. He goes on to censure the irre-
gularities committed at their love-feasts, or the
Lord's Supper. It was a common practice with
the Greeks at their social suppers for every man
to bring his own provisions along with him, not,
however, to share them with the company, but to
feast upon them in a solitary manner. Thus the
rich ate and drank to excess, while the poor
were totally neglected. The Corinthians intro-
duced the same practice in the celebration of
the Lord's Supper, thus confounding it with their
ordinary meals, and without ever examining into
the end of the institution. This gross abuse
Paul reproves in the eleventh chapter. He also
shows them that all Christians ought to be united
in mutual love ; and that tenderness ought to be
shown to the most inconsiderable member, as
every one is subservient to the good of the whole :
chap. xii. In the thirteenth chapter he gives a
beautiful description of benevolence. He repre-
sents it as superior to the supernatural gifts of
the Spirit, to the most exalted genius, to univer-
sal knowledge, and even to faith. In the four-
teenth chapter he cautions the Corinthians against
ostentation in the exercise of the gift of lan-
guages, and gives them proper advices.
4. He asserts the resurrection of the dead,
founding it upon the resurrection of Jesus Christ,
which he considers as one of the most essential
doctrines of Chnstiaiiity. He then answers
some objections, drawn from our not being
capable of understanding how it will be accom-
plished: chap. xv. He concludes with directions
concerning alms; promises them a visit, and
salutes some of the members.
The second epistle to the CORINTHIANS was
written from Macedonia, A. D. 57. See 2 Cor.
ix. 1 — 5 ; viii. and xiii. 1. St. Paul's first epistle
had wrought different effects among the Corin-
thians ; many of them examined their conduct;
they excommunicated the incestuous man; re-
quested St. Paul's return with tears ; and vindi-
cated him and his office against the false teacher
and his adherents. Others of them still adhered
to that adversary of St. Paul, denied his apos-
tolic office, and furnished themselves with pre-
tended arguments from that epistle. He had
formerly promised to take a journey from Ephe-
sus to Corinth, thence to visit the Macedonians,
and return from them to Corinth: 2 Cor. i.
15, 16. But the unhappy state of the Corin-
thian church made him alter his intention
(ver. 23), since he found he must have treated
them with severity. Hence his adversaries ar-
gued, 1. That St. Paul was irresolute and un-
steady, and therefore could not be a prophet.
2. The improbability of his ever coming to
Corinth again, since he was afraid of them.
Such was the state of the Corinthian church
when St. Paul, after his departure from Ephesus,
having visited Macedonia (Acts xx. 1 ), received
an account of the above particulars from Titus
(2 Cor. vii. 5, 6), and therefore wrote them his
second epistle about the end of the same year, or
the beginning of 58. But to give a more dis-
tinct view of the contents of this epistle : —
1 . The apostle, after a general salutation, ex-
presses his grateful sense of the divine goodness ;
professing his confidence in God, supported by a
662
SCRIPTURE.
sense of his own integrity ; makes an apology
for not having visited the Corinthians as he had
intended, and vindicates himself from the charge
of fickleness : chap i.
2. He forgives the incestuous man, whose
conduct had made so deep an impression on the
apostle's mind, that one reason why he had de-
ferred his journey to Corinth was that he might
not meet them in grief, nor till he had -received
advice of the effect of his admonitions. He men-
tions his anxiety to meet Titus at Troas, to hear
of their welfare; expresses his thankfulness to
God for the success attending his ministry, and
speaks of the Corinthians as his credentials,
written by the finger of God : chap. ii. iii. 1 — 6.
3. He treats of the office committed to him of
preaching the redemption ; and prefers it to
preaching the law, to which probably his adver-
saries had made great pretences. They had ridi-
culed his sufferings ; which he shows to be no
disgrace to the gospel or its ministers ; and gives
a short abstract of the doctrine he preaches:
chap. iii. 6. v. to the end. He expiates on the
temper with which, in the midst of afflictions
and persecutions, he and his brethren executed
their important embassy; and with great affection
exhorts them to avoid idolatry : chap. vi. He
tells them how much he rejoiced in their amend-
ment, and how sorry he had been for the distress
which his necessary reproofs had occasioned :
."•hap. vii. He then exhorts them to make
iberal contributions for the Christians in Judea.
He recommends to them the example of the
Macedonians, and reminds them of the benevo-
lence of the Lord Jesus. He expresses his joy
for the readiness of Titus to assist in making the
collection : makes honorable mention of other
Christian brethren (chap, viii.) ; and recommends
them to the divine blessing: chap. ix.
4. Next he obviates some reflexions thrown
upon him for the mildness of his conduct, as if
it had proceeded from fear. He asserts his
apostolical power and authority : chap. x. He
vindicates himself against the insinuations of
some for having declined pecuniary support
from the church. To show his superiority over
those designing men who had opposed his preach-
ing, he enumerates his sufferings; gives a detail
of some extraordinary revelation which he had
received ; and vindicates himself from the charge
of boasting, by declaring that he had been forced
to it : chap. xi. xii. He closes the epistle, by
assuring them how much it would grieve him
to demonstrate his divine commission by severer
methods.
The GALATIANS were descended from those
Gauls who had formerly invaded Greece, and
afterwards settled in Lower Asia. St. Paul had
preached the gospel among them A.D. 51, soon
after the council at Jerusalem : Acts xvi. 6.
Asia swarmed at that time with zealots for the
law of Moses, who wanted to impose it upon
the Gentiles : Acts xv. 1 . Soon after St. Paul
had left the Galatians, these false teachers had
got among them, and wanted them to be circum-
cised, &c. This occasioned the epistle, which
Michaelis thinks was written in the same year,
before St. Paul left Thessalonica. Dr. Lardner
dates it about th« end of 52, or in the beginning
of 53, before St. Paul set out for Jerusalem by
way of Ephesus. The subject of this epistle is
much the same with that of the Epistle to the
Romans ; only this question is more fully con-
sidered here, ' Whether circumcision, and an ob-
servance of the Levitical law, be necessary to
the salvation of a Christian convert?' These
Judaizing Christians, whose indirect views St.
Paul exposes (Acts xv. 1 ; Gal. v. 3, 9), at first
only represented circumcision as necessary to
salvation ; but afterwards they insisted upon the
Christians receiving the Jewish festivals: Gal.
iv. 10.
As it appears from several passages of this
epistle (chap. i. 7, 8, 10, and v. 11) that the
Judaizing Christians had endeavoured to per-
suade the Galatians that Paul himself had changed
his opinion, and now preached up the Levitical
law ; he denies that charge, and affirms that the
doctrines which he had taught were true, for he
had received them from God by immediate reve-
lation. He relates his miraculous conversion ;
asserts his apostolical authority, which had been
acknowledged by the disciples of Jesus ; and, as
a proof that he had never inculcated a compliance
with the Mosaic law, he declares that he had op-
posed Peter at Antioch for yielding to the preju-
dices of the Jews.
He then argues that the Galatians ought not
to submit to the law of Moses: — 1. Because
they had received the Holy Ghost and the gifts
of miracles, not by the law, but by the gospel :
chap. iii. 1 — 5. 2. Because the promises which
God made to Abraham were not restricted to his
circumcised descendants, but extended to all
who are his children by faith : chap. iii. 6 — 18.
In answer to the objection, ' To what then serveth
the law V he replies, That it was given because
of transgression ; that is, to preserve them from
idolatry till the Messiah himself should come.
3. Because all men, whether Jews or Gentiles,
are made the children of God by faith, or by re-
ceiving the Christian religion, and therefore do
not stand in need of. circumcision : chap. iii.
26 — 29. From the first verse of chap. iv. to
the eleventh, he argues that the law was tempo-
rary, being only fitted for a state of infancy ; but
that the world having attained a state of man-
hood under the Messiah, the law was of no
farther use. In the remaining part of chap. ir.
he reminds them of their former affection for him,
and assures them that he was still their sincere
friend. He exhorts them to stand fast in the
liberty with which Christ had made them free.
He next confutes the false report which had
been spread abroad among the Galatians that
Paul himself preached up circumcision. He
had already indirectly refuted this calumny, but
he now directly and openly contradicts it; 1. By
assuring them that all who thought circumcision
necessary to salvation could receive no benefit
from the Christian religion : chap. v. 2 — 4. 2.
By declaring that he expected justification only
by faith : ver. 5, 6. 3. By testifying that they
had once received the truth, and had never been
taught such false doctrines by him : ver. 7, 8.
4. By insinuating that they should pass some
censure on those who misled them (ver. 9, 10),
by declaring that he was persecuted for opposing
SCRIPTURE.
683
the circumcision of the Christians: ver. 11. 5.
By expressing a wish that those persons should
be cut off who troubled them with this doctrine.
This epistle affords a fine instance of Paul's skill
in managing an argument.
He next cautions them against an idea which
his arguments for Christian liberty might excite,
that it consisted in licentiousness. He shows
them it does not consist in gratifying vicious de-
sires; for none are under stronger obligations to
moral duties than the Christian. He recom-
mends gentleness and meekness to the weak
(chap. vi. 1 — 5), and exhorts them to be liberal
to their teachers, and unto all men: ver. 6 — 10.
He concludes with exposing the false pretences
of the Judaizing teachers, and asserting the in-
tegrity of his own conduct.
EPHESUS was the chief city of all Asia on this
side Mount Taurus. St. Paul had passed
through it in the year 54, but without making
any stay: Actsxviii. 19 — 21. In 55 he returned
to Ephesus again, and staid there three years :
chap. xix. During his abode there he completed
a very flourishing church of Christians, the first
foundations of which had been laid by some in-
ferior teachers. As Ephesus was frequented by
persons of distinction from all parts of Asia
Minor, St. Paul took the opportunity of preach-
ing in the ancient countries (ver. 10) ; and the
other churches of Asia were considered as the
daughters of the church of Ephesus ; so that an
epistle to the Ephesians,was, in effect, an epistle
to the other churches of Asia at the same time.
Dr. Lardner shows it to be highly probable that
this epistl* was written A. D. til, soon after
Paul's arrival at Rome.
As Paul was in a peculiar manner the apostle
of the Gentiles, and was now a prisoner at Rome
inconsequence of having provoked the Jews, by
asserting that an observance of the Mosaic law
was not necessary to obtain the favor of God, he
was afraid lest an advantage should be taken of
his confinement to unsettle the minds of those
whom he had converted. Hearing that the
Ephesians stood firm in the faith of Christ,
without submitting to the law of Moses, he
writes this epistle to give them more exalted
views of the love of God, and of the excellence
and dignity of Christ. This epistle is not com-
posed in an argumentative or didactic style : The
first three chapters consist almost entirely of
thanksgivings and prayers, or glowing descrip-
tions of the blessings of the Christian religion.
The last three chapters contain practical exhorta-
tions to unity, love, and concord, from the con-
sideration that all Christians are members of the
same body, of which Christ is the head. He
then advises them to forsake the vices to which
they had been addicted while they remained
heathens. He recommends justice and charity ;
and condemns lewdness, obscenity, and intem-
perance. In the sixth chapter he points out the
duties of husbands and wives, parents and chil-
dren, masters and servants, &c.
The church at PHILIPPI had been founded by
Paul, Silas, and Timothy (Acts xvi.) in 51, and
had continued to show a strong attachment to
the Christian religion, and a tender affection for
the apostle. Hearing of his imprisonment at
Rome, they sent Epaphroditus, one of their pas-
tors, to supply him with money. It appears
from this epistle that he was in great want of
necessaries before this contribution arrived , for,
as he had not converted the Romans, he did not
consider himself as entitled to receive supplies
from them. Being a prisoner, he could not
work; and it was his maxim never to accept any
pecuniary assistance from those churches where
a faction had been raised against him. From
the Philippians he was not averse to receive a
present, as he considered it as a mark of their
affection.
This letter was written while he was a prisoner
at Rome (chap. -i. 7, 13 ; iv. 22) ; and from the
expectation which he discovers (chap. ii. 24) of
being soon released and restored to them, com-
pared with Philemon ver. 22, and Heb. xiii. 13,
where he expresses a like expectation in stronger
terms, it is probable that it was written towards
the end of his first imprisonment in 62. His de-
sign in this epistle seems *o be to comfort the
Philippians under the concern the,y had expressed
at his imprisonment ; to check a party spirit that
had broken out among them ; to promote union
and harmony ; to guard them agsinst being se-
duced by Judaizing teachers; to support them
under their trials ; and to inspire them with a
desire to adorn their profession by the most emi-
nent attainments. After some admonitions, in
the beginning of the fourth chapter, he, in the
eighth verse, recommends virtue in the most ex-
tensive sense. Towards the close, he makes his
acknowledgments to the Philippians for the sea-
sonable and liberal supply which they had sent
him, as a proof of their affection for him, and
their concern for the support of the gospel.
The Epistle to the COLOSSIA.NS was written
while Paul was in prison (chap. iv. 3), about
A. D. 62. The intention of it was to secure the
Colossians from some erroneous doctrines, and
to excite them to a behaviour worthy of their
sacred character. A new sect had arisen, which
had blended the oriental philosophy with the
superstitious opinions of the Jews. See GNOS-
TICS.
Against these doctrines Paul argues with great
skill and address. He describes the dignity of
Jesus Christ; declares that he had created all
things, whether thrones or dominions, princi-
palities or powers ; that he alone was the head
of the church, and had reconciled men to the
Father: that Jesus was superior to angels; that
they were created beings, and ought not to be
worshipped.
He censures the observation of the Jewish
Sabbath ; rebukes those who required abstinence
from certain kinds of food ; and cautions them
against persons who assume a great appearance
of wisdom and virtue: chap. ii. In the third
chapter he exhorts them, that, rnstead of external
ceremonies, they ought to cultivate pure morality.
He guards them against impurity, to which they
had before their conversion been much addicted.
He admonishes them against the irascible pas-
sions, and falsehood. He exhorts them to culti-
vate the benevolent affections, humility, patience,
and all the relative duties, with prayer and thanks-
giving: chap. iv. 2.
664
SCRIPTURE.
The First Epistle to the THESSALONIANS is
addressed to the inhabitants of Thessalonica, the
capital of Macedonia. It appears from the Acts
(xvii. 1), that the Christian religion was intro-
duced into this city by Paul and Silas, soon after
they had left Philippi. At first they made many
converts ; but at length the Jews stirred up the
rabble, which assaulted the house where the
apostle and his friends lodged, so that Paul and
Silas were obliged to flee to Berea. The apostle
then withdrew to Athens ; and Timothy, at his
desire, returned to Thessalonica (1 Thess. iii. 2),
to see what were the sentiments of the inhabi-
tants after the persecution. Paul went to Co-
rinth, where he stayed eighteen months ; during
which Timothy returned with the joyful tidings
that the Thessalonians remained stedfast to the
faith, and firmly attached to the apostle, not-
withstanding his flight. Upon this he sent them
this epistle, A. D. 52, in the twelfth year of
Claudius.
The intention of Paul in writing this epistle
was evidently to encourage the Thessalonians to
adhere to the Christian religion. This church
being still in its infancy, and oppressed by the
Jews, required to be established in the faith. St.
Paul, therefore, in the first three chapters, endea-
vours to convince the Thessalonians of the truth
of his gospel, both by the miraculous gifts of the
Holy Ghost which had been imparted, and by
his own conduct when among them.
He expresses a strong affection for them ;
mentions it to their honor that they received
the gospel as the word of God and not of man ;
expresses a strong desire to visit them ; and con-
cludes with various exhortations.
The Second Epistle to the THESSALONIANS ap-
pears to have been written soon after the first,
and from the same place ; for Silvanus, or Silas,
and Timothy are joined with the apostle in the
address of this epistle, as well as of the former.
Paul begins with commending the faith and
charity of the Thessalonians ; expresses great joy
on account of the patience with which they sup-
ported persecution ; and observes that their per-
secution was a proof of a righteous judgment to
come, where their persecutors would meet with
a proper recompense, and the righteous be de-
livered out of all their afflictions.
From misunderstanding a passage in his former
letter, the Thessalonians believed the day of
judgment was at hand. To rectify this mistake,
he informs them that the day of the Lord will
not come till a great apostasy has overspread the
Christian world, the nature of which he de-
scribes. Dr. Kurd explains this of the papal
power, to which it applies with astonishing
exactness. Symptoms of this mystery of ini-
quity had then appeared ; but the apostle ex-
presses his thankfulness to God that the Thessa-
lonians had escaped this corruption. He then
proceeds to correct some irregularities. Many
of the Thessalonians seem to have led a dis-
orderly life ; these he severely reproves, and
commands the faithful to shun their company if
they remained incorrigible.
When the First Epistle to TIMOTHY was writ-
ten it is difficult to ascertain, l^ardner dates
it in r.fi; Mill, \\hitt.y, and Macknight, place it
in 64. Timothy was the intimate friend and
companion of Paul, and is always mentioned by
that apostle with much affection and esteem.
Having appointed him to superintend the church
of Ephesus, during a journey which he made to
Macedonia, he wrote this letter to direct him
how to discharge the important trust. This was
the more necessary as Timothy was young and in-
experienced : 1 Tim. iv. 12.
In the second chapter he prescribes the man-
ner in which the worship of God was to be per-
formed iti the church of Ephesus ; and in the
third explains the qualifications of the persons
whom he was to ordain as bishops and deacons.
In the fourth he foretels the great corruptions of
the church which were to prevail in future times.
In the fifth and sixth he teaches Timothy how to
admonish both old and young ; and gives rules
respecting widows, elders, slaves, trifling contro-
versies, and the excessive love of money.
That the Second Epistle to TIMOTHY was
written from Rome is universally agreed ; but
the precise date is uncertain. Timothy was at
Ephesus or in Asia Minor when this epistle was
sent to him. The false teachers who had before
thrown this church into confusion grew every
day worse; insomuch that not only Hymenacus,
but Philetus, another Ephesian heretic, now de-
nied the resurrection. They were led into this
error by a dispute about words. At first they
only annexed various improper significations
to the word resurrection, but at last they denied
it altogether.
Neither the date of the Epistle to TITUS, whom
Paul had appointed over the church of Crete,
nor the place from which it was sent, is ascer-
tained. The apostle reminds Titus of the reasons
for which he had left him at Crete; and directs
him how to act in ordaining Chhristian pastors :
chap. i. He advises him to accommodate his
exhortations to the respective ages, sexes, and
circumstances of those whom it was his duty to
instruct; and to give an example of what he
taught c. ii. : He exhorts him also to teach
obedience to the civil magistrate, because the
Judaizing Christians affirmed that no obedience
was due from the worshippers of the true God
to magistrates who were idolaters. He cautions
against censoriousness and contention ; recom-
mends meekness ; and to avoid useless con ro-
versies ; and concludes with directing him how
to proceed with heretics.
The Epistle to PHILEMON was written from
Rome at the same time with the epistles to the
Colossians and Philippians and A.I). 62 or 63
The occasion of the letter was this : Onesimus,
Philemon's slave, had robbed his master, and fled
to Rome ; where, happily, he met with the apos-
tle, who was then a prisoner at large, and by his
instructions was converted to Christianity, and
reclaimed to a sense of his duty. St. Paul, when
he had made a sufficient trial of him, and found
that his behaviour was entirely agreeable to his
profession, sent him back to his master, and, as
a mark of his esteem, entrusted him, together
with Tychicus, with the charge of delivering his
epistle to the church at Colosse, and giving them
a particular account of the state of things at
Rome, recommending him to them, at the same
SCRIPTURE
time, as a faithful and beloved brother : Col. iv. 9.
And, as Philemon might well be supposed to be
strongly prejudiced against one who had left his
service in so infamous a manner, he sends him
this letter, in which he employs all his influence
to remove suspicions, and reconcile him to the
Baking Onesimus into his family again. See PHI-
LEMON.
It is impossible to read over this admirable
epistle without being touched with the delicacy
of sentiment, and the masterly address that ap-
pear in every part of it. We see here, in a
most striking light, how perfectly consistent true
politeness is, not only with all the warmth and
sincerity of the friend, but even with the dignity
of the Christian and the apostle. And, if this
letter were to be considered in no other view
than as a mere human composition, it must be
allowed a master-piece in its kind. As an illus-
tration of this remark, it may not be improper to
compare it with an epistle of Pliny, that seems
to have been written upon a similar occasion (lib.
ix. ep. 21); which, though it has many beauties,
and was penned by one that is reckoned to excel
in the epistolary style, yet must be acknowledged,
by every impartial reader, vastly inferior to this
animated composition of the apostle.
The Epistle to the HEBREWS has been gene-
rally ascribed to Paul ; but the truth of this
opinion has been suspected by others for three
reasons : — 1. The name of the writer is nowhere
mentioned, neither in the beginning nor in any
other part of the epistle. 2. The style is said to
be more elegant than Paul's. 3. There are ex-
pressions in the epistle which have been thought
unsuitable to an apostle's character. 1. In an-
swer to the first objection, Clemens Alexandrinus
lias assigned a very good reason : ' Writing to
the Hebrews.' says he, ' who had conceived a
prejudice against him, and were suspicious of
him, he wisely declined setting his name at the
beginning, lest he should offend them.' 2. Ori-
gen and Jerome admitted the elegance of the
style, and reckoned it superior to that which
1'aul has exhibited in his epistles; but, as ancient
testimony had assigned it to Paul, they endea-
voured to answer the objection, by supposing
that the sentiments were the apostle's, but the
language and composition the work of some
other person. If the epistle, however, be a
translation, which we believe it to be, the ele-
gance of the language may belong to the trans-
lator. As to the composition and arrangement,
there are many specimens in the writings of this
apostle not inferior in these qualities to the
epistle to the Hebrews. 3. It is objected that,
in Heb. ii. 3, the writer of this epistle joins him-
self with those who had received the gospel
from Christ's apostles. Now Paul had it from
Christ himself. But Paul often appeals to the
testimony of the apostles in support of those
truths which he had received from revelation.
See 1 Cor. xv. 5,6,7,8; 2Tim.ii.2.
This epist.e is not quoted till the end of the
second century, and even then does not seem to
have been universally received. This silence
might be owing to the Hebrews themselves,
vho, supposing this letter had no relation to
me Gentiles, might be at no pains to diffuse
copies of it. The authors, however, on whose
testimony we receive it as authentic, are entitled
to credit ; for they lived so near the age of the
apostles that they were in no danger of being
imposed on; and, from the numerous list of
books which they rejected as spurious, we are
assured that they were very careful to guard
against imposition. It is often quoted as Paul's
by Clemens Alexandrinus about A. D. 194.- It
is received and quoted as Paul's by Origen,
about 230 ; by Dionysius, bishop of Alexandria,
in 247 ; and by a numerous list of succeeding
writers.
The Epistle to the Hebrews was originally
written in Hebrew, or rather Syro-Chaldaic ; a
fact testified by Clemens Alexandrinus, Jerome,
and Eusebius. To this it has been objected
that, as these writers have not referred to any au-
thority, we can only consider this as an opinion.
But as they state no reasons for adopting this
opinion, but only mention as a fact that Paul
wrote to the Hebrews in their native language,
we must allow that it is their testimony which
they produce, and not their opinion. Eusebius
informs us that some supposed Luke the evange-
list, and others Clemens Romanus, to have been
the translator. According to Clemens Alexan-
drinus, Jerome, and Euthalius, this epistle was
addressed to the Jews in Palestine. The scope
of the epistle confirms this opinion. — The time
when it was written may be easily determined ;
for the salutation from the saints of Italy (c. iv.
24), together with the apostle's promise to see
the Hebrews (v. 23), plainly intimate that his
confinement was then either ended or on the eve
of being ended. It must therefore have been
written soon after the epistles to the Colossians,
Ephesians, and Philemon, and not long before
Paul left Italy, that is, A.D. 61 or 62.
As the zealous defenders of the Mosaic law
would naturally insist on the divine authority of
Moses, on the majesty and glory attending its
promulgation by the ministry of angels, and the
great privileges it afforded those who adhered to
it ; the apostle shows —
I. That in all these articles Christianity had an
infinite superiority to the law. This topic he
pursues from c. i. to xi., wherein he reminds the
believing Hebrews of the extraordinary favor
shown them by God, in sending them a revela-
tion by his own Son, whose glory was far supe-
rior to that of angels (c. i.) ; very naturally in-
ferring from hence the danger of despising Christ
on account of his humiliation, which, in perfect
consistence with his dominion over the world to
come, was voluntarily submitted to by him for
wise and important reasons; particularly to de-
liver us from the fear of death, and to encourage
the freedom of our access to God : c. ii. W ith
the same view he magnifies Christ as superior to
Moses, their great legislator; and, from the pun-
ishment inflicted on those who rebelled against
the authority of Moses, infers the danger of con-
temning the promises of the gospel : c. iii. 2 — 13.
And, as it was an easy transition to call to mind
on this occasion that rest in Canaan to which the
authority invested in Moses was intended to lead
them, the apostle hence cautions them against
unbelief, as what would prevent their entering
666
SCRIPTURE.
into a superior state ef rest to what the Jews
ever enjoyed: c. in. 14, iv. 11. This caution is
still farther enforced by awful views of God's om-
niscience, and a lively representation of the high-
priesthood of Christ (c. iv. and v. to the end).
In the next place he intimates the very hopeless
situation of those who apostatise from Chris-
tianity (c. vi. 1 — 9) ; and then, for the comfort
and confirmation of sincere believers, displays to
them the goodness of God, and his faithful ad-
herence to his holy engagements ; the perform-
ance of which is sealed by the entrance of Christ
into heaven as our forerunner: c. vi. 9, to the
end. Still farther to illustrate the character of
our Lord, he enters into a parallel between him
and Melchizedec as to their title and descent;
and, from instances wherein the priesthood of
Melchizedec excelled the Levitical, infers that
the glory of the priesthood of Christ surpassed
that under the law : c. vii. 1 — 17. From these
premises the apostle argues that the Aaronical
priesthood was not only excelled, but consum-
mated by that of Christ, to which it was only
introductory and subservient ; and of course
that the obligation of the law was henceforth
dissolved : c. vii. 18, to the end. Then recapi-
tulating what he had already demonstrated, con-
cerning the superior dignity of Christ's priest-
hood, he thence illustrates the distinguished
excellence of the new covenant, as not only fore-
told by Jeremiah, but evidently enriched with
much better promises than the old (c. viii.
throughout) ; explaining further the doctrine of
the priesthood and intercession of Christ, by
comparing it with what the Jewish high priest
did on the great day of atonement : c. ix. 1 — 14.
Afterwards he enlarges on the necessity of shed-
ding Christ's blood, and the sufficiency of the
atonement made by it (c. ix. 15, to the end);
and proves that the legal ceremonies could not
by any means purify the conscience ; whence he
infers the insufficiency of the Mosaic law, and
the necessity of looking beyond it : c. x. 1 — 15.
He then urges the Hebrews to improve the pri-
vileges which such a high priest and covenant
conferred on them, to the purposes of approach-
ing God with confidence, to a constant atten-
dance on his worship, and most benevolent re-
gards to each other: c. x. 15—25. The apostle
having thus obviated the insinuations and objec-
tions of the Jews, for the satisfaction and
establishment of the believing Hebrews, pro-
ceeds,
II. To prepare and fortify their minds against
the storm of persecution which in part had already
befallen them, and which was likely to continue
and be often renewed, he reminds them of those
extremities they had endured, and of the fatal
effects which would attend their apostasy (chap,
x. 26, to the end) ; calling to their remembrance
the eminent examples of faith and fortitude ex-
hibited by holy men, and recorded in the Old
Testament, (chap. xi. 1 — 29). He concludes his
discourse with glancing at many other illustrious
worthies; and, besides those recorded in Scrip-
ture, refers to the case of several who suffered
under the persecution of Antiochus Epiphanes :
2 Mac. chap. viii. &c., xi. 30, xii. 2. Having
thus finished the argumentative part of the epis-
tle, the apostle proceeds to a general application
in which he exhorts the Hebrew Christians to
patience, peace, and holiness (chap. xii. 3 — 14);
cautions them against secular views and sensual
gratifications, by laying before them the incom-
parable excellence of the blessings introduced by
the gospel, which even the Jewish economy, glo-
rious and magnificent as it was, did by no means
equal ; exhorts them to brotherly affection, pu-
rity, compassion, dependence on the divine care,
stedfastness in the profession of truth, a life of
thankfulness to God, and benevolence to man ;
and concludes the whole with recommending
their pious ministers to their particular regard,
entreating their prayers, saluting and granting
them his usual benediction.
The seven following epistles, one of James,
two of Peter, three of John, and one of Jude,
have been distinguished by the appellation of
Catholic or general epistles, because most of
them are inscribed, not to particular churches or
persons, but to the body of Jewish or Gentile
converts over the world. The authenticity of
some of these has been questioned, viz. the Epis-
tle of James, the second of Peter, the Epistle of
Jude, and the second and third of John. The
ancient Christians were very cautious in admit-
ting any books into their canon whose authen-
ticity they had any reason to suspect. They re-
jected all the writings forged by heretics in the
name of the apostles, and certainly, therefore,
would not receive any without first subjecting
them to a severe scrutiny. Now, though these
seven epistles were not immediately acknow-
ledged as the writings of the apostles, this onl
shows that the persons who doubted had not re-
ceived complete and incontestable evidence oi
their authenticity. But, as they were afterwards
universally received, we have every reason to
conclude, that upon a strict examination they
were found to be the genuine productions of the
apostles. The truth is, so good an opportunity
had the ancient Christians of examining this
matter, so careful were they to guard against
imposition, and so well founded was their judg-
ment concerning the books of the New Testa-
ment, that, as Dr. Lardner observes, no writing
which they pronounced genuine has yet been
proved spurious, nor have we at this day the least
reason to believe any book genuine which they
rejected.
That the Epistle of JAMES was written in the
apostolical age is proved by the quotations of
Clemens Romanus, Ignatius, and Origen. There
are several reasons why it was not more gene-
rally quoted by the first Christian writers. Be-
ing written to correct the errors and vices which
prevailed among the Jews, the Gentiles might
think it of less importance to them, and therefore
take no pains to procure copies of it. As the
author was sometimes denominated James the
Just, and often called bishop of Jerusalem, it
might be doubted whether he was one of the
apostles. But its authenticity does not seem to
have been suspected on account of the doctrines
which it contains. In modern times, indeed,
Luther called it a strawy epistle (epistola stra-
minea), and excluded it from the sacred writings,
on account of its apparent oppositioti to the
SCRIPTURE.
apostle Paul concerning justification by faith.
This epistle could not be written by James the
elder, the son of Zebedee, and brother of John,
who was beheaded by Herod, A. D. 44 ; for it
contains passages which refer to a later period.
It must, therefore, have been the composition of
James the Less, the son of Alpheus, who was
called the Lord's brother, because he was the son
of Mary, the sister of our Lord's mother. Lard-
ner fixes the date in the year 61 or 62.
James the Less statedly resided at Jerusalem,
whence he was styled by some ancient fa-
thers bishop of that city, though without suffi-
cient foundation. Now James being one of the
apostles of the circumcision, while he confined
his personal labors to the inhabitants of Judea,
it was natural for him to endeavour, by his writ-
ings, to extend his services to the Jewish Chris-
tians who were dispersed abroad in more distant
regions. For this purpose there are two points
which the apostle seems to have principally aimed
at, though he did not pursue them in an or-
derly and logical method, but in the free episto-
lary manner, handling them jointly or distinctly
as occasions naturally offered. And these were
' to correct those errors both in doctrine and
practice into which the Jewish Christians had
fallen, which might otherwise have produced
fatal consequences ; and then to establish the
faith and animate the hope of sincere believers,
both under their present and their approaching
sufferings.' The opinions which he is most
anxious to refute are these, that God is the au-
thor of sin (ch. i. 13); and that the belief of the
doctrines of the gospel was sufficient to procure
the favor of God for them, however deficient
they were in good works : chap. ii. He dis-
suades the Jews in the third chapter from aspir-
ing to the office of teachers, because their pre-
judices in favor of the law of Moses might in-
duce them to pervert the doctrines of the gospel.
He therefore guards them against the sins of the
tongue, by representing their pernicious effects ;
and as they thought themselves wise and intelli-
gent, and were ambitious of becoming teachers,
he advises them to make good their pretensions,
by showing themselves possessed of that wisdom
which is from above : chap. iii.
The destruction of Jerusalem was now ap-
proaching; the Jews were split into factions,
and often slaughtered one another ; the apostle,
therefore, in the fourth chapter admonishes them
to purify themselves from those vices which pro-
duced tumults and bloodshed. To rouse them
to repentance, he foretells the miseries that were
coming upon them. Lastly, he checks an irre-
ligious spirit that seems to have prevailed, and
concludes the epistle with several exhortations.
The authenticity of the first Epistle of PETER
has never been denied. It is referred to by Cle-
mens Romanus, and Polycarp, and is quoted by
Papias, Irenaeus, Clemens Alexandrinus, and
Tertullian. It is addressed to the strangers scat-
tered through Pontus, &c., who are evidently
Christians in general, as appears from chap. ii.
10. From Peter's sending the salutation of the
church at Babylon to the Christians in Pontus,
&c., it is generally believed that he wrote it in
Babylon. There was a Babylon in Egypt and
another in Assyria. It could not be the former;
for it was an obscure place, which seems to have
had no church for the first four centuries. We
have no authority to affirm that Peter was in
Assyria. The most probable opinion is that of
Grotius, Whitby, Lardner, as well as of Euse-
bius, Jerome, and others, that by Babylon Peter
figuratively means Rome. Lardner dates it in
63, 64, or 65. St. Peter's chief design is to
confirm the doctrine of St. Paul, which the false
teachers pretended he was opposing, and to as-
sure the proselytes that they stood in the true
grace of Goo. : chap. v. 12. With this view he
calls them elect- and mentions that they had been
declared such by the effusion of the Holy Ghost
upon them : chap. i. 1, 2. He assures them
that they were regenerate without circumcision,
merely through the gospel and the resurrection of
Christ (ver. 3, 4. 21 — 25) ; and that their suffer-
ings were no argument of their being under the
displeasure of God, as the Jews imagined : ver.
6 — 12. He recommends it to them to hope for
grace to this end: ver. 13. He testifies that
they were not redeemed by the paschal lamb, but
through Christ, whom God had pre-ordained for
this purpose before the foundation of the world :
ver. 18 — 20.
The second Epistle of PETER is not mention-
ed by any ancient writer extant till the fourth
century, from which time it has been received by
all Christians, except the Syrians. Jerome ac-
quaints us that its authenticity was disputed, on
account of a remarkable difference between the
style of it and the former epistle. But this re-
markable difference in style is confined to the
second chapter of the second epistle. No ob-
jections, however, can be drawn from this cir-
cumstance; for the subject of that chapter is
different from the rest of Peter's writings, and
nothing is so well known as that different sub-
jects suggest different styles. Peter, in describ-
ing the character of some flagitious impostors,
feels an indignation which he cannot suppress;
it breaks out, therefore, in the bold and animated
figures of an oriental writer. Such a diversity
of style is not uncommon in the best writers,
especially when warmed with their subject. This
objection being removed, we contend that this
epistle was written by Peter, from the inscrip-
tion, Simon Peter, a servant and an apostle of
Jesus Christ. It appears from chap. i. 16, 17,
18, that the writer was one of the disciples who
saw the transfiguration of our Saviour. Since it
has never been ascribed to James or John, it
must therefore have been Peter. It is evident,
from chap. iii. 1, that the author had written an
epistle before to the same persons, which is ano-
ther circumstance that proves Peter to be the
author.
It is acknowledged, however, that all this evi-
dence is merely internal ; for there is no external
evidence upon the subject. Some, therefore,
have contended, that if the credit which we give
to any fact is to be in proportion to the degree
of evidence with which it is accompanied, we
must allow more authority to the gospels than
to the epistles; more to those epistles which
have been generally acknowledged than to those
which have been controverted, &c. To us it
668
SCRIPTURE.
seems that sufficient evidence of inspiration
being obtained is the main point. Yet one
way of determining the essential doctrines of
Christianity would be to examine what are the
doctrines which occur oftenest in the gospels ;
for the gospels are the plainest parts of the New
Testament, and their authenticity is most com-
pletely proved. Nor will it be denied that our
Saviour taught all the doctrines of the Christian
religion himself; that he repeated them on dif-
ferent occasions, and inculcated them with an
earnestness proportionable to their importance.
The epistles are to be considered as a commen-
tary on the essential doctrines of the gospel,
adapted to the situation and circumstances of
particular churches, and perhaps sometimes ex-
claining doctrines of inferior importance. 1.
* he essential doctrines are therefore first to be
sought for in the gospels, and to be determined
by the number of times they occur. 2. In the
.mcontroverted epistles, in the same manner. 3.
No essential doctrine ought to be founded on a
single passage, nor on the authority of a contro-
verted passage.
That Peter was old, and near his end, when
he wrote this epistle, may be inferred from
chap. i. 14 : ' Knowing that shortly I must put
off this tabernacle, even as our Lord Jesus has
shown me.' Lardner thinks it was written soon
after the former. Others date it in 67. The
general design of it is to confirm the doctrines
and instructions delivered in the former ; « to
excite the Christian converts to adorn, and sted-
fastly adhere to their holy religion, as a religion
proceeding from God, notwithstanding the arti-
fices of false teachers, whose character is described;
or the persecution of their inveterate enemies.
The first Epistle of JOHN is ascribed by the
unanimous suffrage of the ancients to the beloved
disciple of our Lord. It is referred to by Poly-
carp, is quoted by Papias, by Irenaeus, and was
received as genuine by Clemens Alexandrinus,
by Dionysius of Alexandria, by Cyprian, Origen,
and Eusebius. There is such a resemblance be-
tween the style and sentiments of this epistle
and those of St. John's gospel, as to afford the
highest degree of internal evidence that they are
the compositions of the same author. In the
style of this apostle there is a remarkable pecu-
liarity, and especially in this epistle. His sen-
tences, considered separately, are exceedingly clear
and intelligible ; but, when we search for their
connexion, we frequently meet with greater diffi-
culties than we do even in the epistles of St.
Paul. The principal signature and characteristic
of his manner is an artless and amiable simpli-
city, iuid a singular modesty and candor, in con-
junction with a wonderful sublimity of senti-
ment. His conceptions are apparently deliver-
ed to us in the order in which they arose to his
own mind, and are not the product of artificial
reasoning or labored investigation. It is impos-
sible to fix with any precision the date of this
epistle, nor can we determine to what persons it
was addressed.
The leading design of the apostle is to show
the insufficiency of faith, and the external pro-
fession of religion, separate from morality ; to
guard Christians against the delusive arts of the
corrupters of Christianity, whom he calls Anti-
christ ; and to inculcate universal benevolence.
His admonitions concerning the necessity of
good morals, and the inefficacy of external pro-
fessions, are scattered over the epistle, but are
most frequent in the first, second, and third
chapters. The enemies or corrupters of Cnris-
tianity against whom he contends, seem to have
denied that Jesus was the Messiah, the Son of
God (chap. ii. 22, v. 1), and had actually come
into the world in a human form : chap. iv. 2, 3.
The earnestness and frequency with which this
apostle recommends benevolence is remarkable.
He makes it the distinguishing characteristic of
the disciples of Jesus, the only sure pledge of
our love to God, and the only assurance of eter-
nal life : chap. iii. 14, 15. Benevolence was
his favorite theme, which he affectionately pressed
upon others, and constantly practised himself.
It was conspicuous in his conduct to his great
Master, and in the reciprocal affection which it
inspired in his sacred breast. He continued to
recommend it in his last words. When his ex-
treme age and infirmities had so wasted his
strength, that he was incapable to exercise the
duties of his office, the venerable old man, anxi-
ous to exert in the service of his Master the little
strength which still remained, caused himself to
be carried to church, and in the midst of the con-
gregation he repeated these words, ' Little chil-
dren love one another.'
It has been observed by Dr. Mill that the
second and third epistles of JOHN are so short,
and resemble the first so much in sentiment and
style, that it is needless to contend about them.
The second epistle consists only of thirteen
verses, and of these eight may be found in the
first epistle, in which the sense or language is
precisely the same. The second epistle is quoted
by Irenasus, and was received by Clemens Alex-
andrinus. Both were admitted by Athanasius,
by Cyril of Jerusalem, and by Jerome. The
second is addressed to a woman of distinction,
whose name is by some supposed to be Cyria
(taking Kvpia for a proper name), by others Electa.
The third i* inscribed to Gaius or Cains, accord-
ing to the Latin orthography, who, in the opi-
nion of Lardner, was an eminent Christian, that
lived in some city of Asia not far from Ephesus,
where St. John chiefly resided after his leaving
Judea. Or he may be the Gaius whom Paul
calls his host, in Rom. xvi. 23. The time of
writing these two epistles cannot be determined
with any certainty. They are so short that an
analysis of them is not necessary.
The Epistle of JUDE is cited by no ancient
Christian writer extant before Clemens Alexan-
drinus about the year 194; but this author has
transcribed eight or ten verses in his Stromata
and Pedagogue. It is quoted once byTertullian
about the year 200; by Origen frequently about
230. It was not however received by many of
the ancient Christians, on account of a supposed
quotation from a book of Enoch. But it is not
certain that Jude quotes any book. He only
says that, ' Enoch prophesied, saying, the Ixird
cometh with ten thousand of his saints.' These
might be words of a prophecy preserved by tra-
dition, and inserted occasionally in different
SCRIPTURE.
669
writings. Nor is there any evidence that there
was such a book as Enoch's Prophecies in the
thne of Jude, though a book of that name was
extant in the second and third centuries. As to
the date of this epistle, nothing beyond conjec-
ture can be produced. The design of it is, by
describing the character of the false teachers, and
tha punishments to which they were liable, to
caution Christians against listening to their sug-
gestions, and being thereby perverted from the
faith and purity of the gospel.
V.— Of the Revelation of St. John.— The
APOCALYPSE or REVELATION has not always
been unanimously received as the genuine pro-
duction of the apostle John. Its authenticity is
proved, however, by the testimony of many re-
spectable authors of the first centuries. It is
referred to by the martyrs of Lyons ; it was ad-
mitted by Justin Martyr as the work of the
apostle John. It is often quoted by Irenaeus, by
Theophilus bishop of Antioch, by Clement of
Alexandria, Tertullian, Origen, and Cyprian of
Carthage. It was also received by heretics, as
Novatius and his followers, the Donatists, and
the Arians. For the first two centuries no part of
the New Testament was more universally acknow-
ledged, or mentioned with higher respect. But,
a dispute having arisen about the millennium,
Caius, with some others, about 2 1 2, to end the
controversy as speedily and effectually as possi-
ble, ventured to deny the authority of the book
which had given occasion to it.
The book of Revelation, as we learn from ch.
i. 9, was written in the Isle of Patmos. Ac-
cording to the general testimony of ancient au-
thors, John was banished into Patmos in the
reign of Domitian, and restored by his successor
Nerva. But the book could not be published
till after John's release, when he returned to
Ephesus. As Domitian died in 96, and his per-
secution did not commence till near the end of
his reign, the Revelation might therefore be
published in 97.
As our readers may wish to be informed how
the predictions revealed in this book of St. John
have usually been interpreted and applied, we
subjoin a key to the prophecies contained in the
Revelation, extracted from the learned disserta-
tions of Dr. Newton, bishop of Bristol, vol. Hi.,
to which the reader is referred for a more full
illustration of the several parts, as the concise-
ness of our plan only admits a short analysis of
them.
Nothing of a prophetical nature occurs in the
first three chapters, except, 1. What is said con-
cerning the church of Ephesus, 'that her candle-
stick shall be removed out of its place,' which
is now verified, not only in this, but in all the
other Asiatic churches which existed at that time ;
the light of the Gospel having been taken from
them, not only by their heresies and divisions from
within, but by the arms of the Saracens from
without ; and, 2. Concerning the church of
Smyrna, that she shall ' have tribulation ten
days ; ' that is, in prophetic language, ten years,
referring to the persecution of Dioclesian, which
alone of all the general persecutions lasted so
long.
The next five chapters relate to the opening of
• the seven seals ; ami by these seals are intimated
so many different periods of the prophecy. Six
of these seals are opened in the sixth and seventh
chapters.
The first seal or period is memorable for con-
quests. It commences with Vespasian, and ter-
minates in Nerva ; and during this time Judea
was subjugated. The second seal is noted for
war and slaughter. It commences with Trajan,
and continues through his reign, and that of his
successors. In this period the Jews were en-
tirely routed and dispersed ; and great was the
slaughter and devastation occasioned by the con-
tending parties. The third seal is characterised
by a rigorous execution of justice, and an abund-
ant provision of corn, wine, and oi'. It com-
mences with Septimius Severus. lie and Alex-
ander Severus were just and severe emperors,
and at the same time highly celebrated for the
regard they paid to the felicity of their people,
by procuring them plenty of every thing, and par-
ticularly corn, wine, and oil. This period lasted
during the reigns of the Septimian family. The
fourth seal is distinguished by a concurrence of
evils, such as war, famine, pestilence, and wild
beasts ; by all which the Roman empire was re-
markably infested from the reign of Maximin to
that of Dioclesian. The fifth seal begins at Dio-
clesian, and is signalised by the great persecution,
from whence arose that memorable era, the era
of martyrs. With Constantine begins the sixth
seal, a period of revolutions, pictured forth by
great commotions in earth and in heaven, allud-
ing to the subversion of Paganism and the esta-
blishment of Christianity. This period lasted
from the reign of Constantine the Great to that
of Theodosius I. The seventh seal includes un-
der it the remaining parts of the prophecy, and
comprehends seven periods distinguished by the
sounding of seven trumpets.
As the seals foretold the state of the Roman
empire before and till it became Christian, so
the trumpets foreshow the fate of it afterwards ;
each trumpet being an alarm to one nation or
other, rousing them up to overthrow that empire.
Four of these trumpets are sounded in the eighth
chapter.
At the sounding of the first trumpet, Alaric
and his Goths invade the Roman empire, besiege
Rome twice, and set it on fire in several places.
See ROME. At the sounding of the second, At
tila and his Huns waste the Roman provinces,
and compel the eastern emperor Theodosius II.,
and the western emperor Valentinian III., to sub-
mit to shameful terms. At the sounding of the
third, Genseric and his Vandals arrive from
Africa, ; spoil and plunder Rome, and set sail
again with immense wealth and innumerable cap-
tives. See ROME. At the sounding of the fourth
trumpet, Odoacer and the Heruli put an end to
the very name of the western empire. See ROME.
Theodoric founds the kingdom of the Ostrogoths
in Italy ; and at last Italy becomes a province of
the eastern empire, Rome being governed by a
duke under the exarch of Ravenna. See ITALY.
As the foregoing trumpets relate chiefly to the
downfal of the western empire, so do the two
following to that of the eastern. They are sounded
in the ninth, tenth, and part of the eleventh chap-
670
SCRIPTURE.
.era. At the sounding of the fifth trumpet, Ma-
homet, that blazing star, appears, opens the bot-
tomless pit, and with his locusts, the Arabians,
darkens the sun and air. At the sounding of the
sixth, a period not yet finished, the four angels,
that is, the four sultans, or leaders of the Turks
and Othmans, are loosed from the river Eu-
phrates. The Greek or Eastern empire was cruelly
* hurt and tormented ' under the fifth trumpet ;
but under the sixth it was ' slain,' and utterly
destroyed
The Latin or Western church not being re-
claimed by the ruin of the Greek or Eastern, but
still persisting in their idolatry and wickedness ;
at the beginning of the tenth chapter, and under
the sound of the sixth trumpet, is introduced a
vision preparative to the prophecies respecting
the Western church, wherein an angel is repre-
sented, having in his hand a little book, or codi-
cil, describing the calamities that should overtake
that church. The measuring of the temple shows,
that during all this period there will be some true
Christians, who will conform themselves to the
rule of God's word, even whilst the outer court,
that is, the external and more extensive part of
this temple or church, is trodden under foot by
Gentiles, i.e. such Christians as, in their idolatrous
worship and persecuting practice, resemble and
outdo «.he Gentiles themselves. Yet against these
corrupters of religion there will be always some
•.rue witnesses to protest, who, however they may
be overborne at times, and in appearance reduced
to death, yet will arise again from time to time, till
at last they triumph and gloriously ascend. The
eleventh chapter concludes with the sounding of
the seventh trumpet.
In the twelfth chapter, by the woman bearing
a man-child is to be understood the Christian
church ; by the great red dragon, the heathen
Roman empire; by the man-child whom the wo-
man bore, Constantine the Great; and by the
war in heaven, the contests between the Christian
and Heathen religions.
In the thirteenth chapter, by the beast with se-
ven heads and ten horns, unto whom the dragon
gave his power, seat, and great authority, is to
be understood not Pagan but Christian, not im-
perial but papal Rome ; in submitting to whose
religion, the world did in effect submit again to
the religion of the dragon. The ten-horned beast,
therefore, represents the Romish church and state
in general ; but the beast with two horns like a
lamb is the Roman clergy ; and that image of
the ten-horned beast, which the two horned
beast caused to be made, and inspired with life,
is the pope ; whose number is 666, accord intr to
the numerical powers of the letters constituting
the Roman name Aar«voc> Latinus, or its equi.
valent in Hebrew, n«Dn Romiith.
A 30 200 1
A 1
T 300
It 5
1 10
N 60
0 70
2 200
666
10
400 n
666
Chap. xvi. By the lamb 6n Mount Sion is
meant Jesus; by the 144,000 his church and
followers ; by the angel preaching his everlast-
ing gospel, the first principal effort made towards
a reformation by that public opposition formed
against the worship of saints and images by em-
perors and bishops in the eighth and ninth cen-
turies ; by the angel crying, « Babylon is fallen,'
the Waldenses and Albigenses, who pronounced
the church of Rome to be the Apocalyptic Baby-
lon, and denounced her destruction ; and by the
third angel, Martin Luther, and his fellow re-
formers, who protested against all the corruptions
of the church of Rome, as destructive to salva-
tion.
The following very excellent canons of inter-
pretation, in respect to this -hook, have been re-
cently proposed by Dr. Woodhouse, who has
himself, applied them with great success to its
exposition : —
1. Compare the language, the symbols, and
the predictions of the Apocalypse with those of
former revelations ; and admit only such inter-
pretation as shall appear to have the sanction of
'this divine authority.
*2. Unless the language and symbols of the
Apocalypse should in particular passages direct,
or evidently require, another mode of applica-
tion, the predictions are to be applied to the pro-
gressive church of Christ.
3. The kingdom which is the subject of this
prophetic book is not a temporal, but a spiritual
kingdom ;—»' not a kingdom of this world ; ' not
established by the means and apparatus of
worldly pomp, not bearing the external ensigns
of royalty ; but governing the inward man, by
possession of the ruling principles : ' the king-
dom of God,' says our Lord, ' is within you.'
Luke xvii. 21. The predictions relative to this
kingdom, therefore, are to be spiritually inter-
preted. Wars, conquests, and revolutions, and
vast extent and great political import, are not
the object of the Apocalyptical prophecies, un-
less they appear to have promoted or retarded in
a considerable degree the real progress of the
religion of Jesus Christ, whose proper reign is in
the hearts and consciences of his subjects. His
reign is advanced when Christian principles,
' when faith, and righteousness, and charity
abound. It is retarded when ignorance, impu-
rity, idolatrous superstition, and wickedness
prevail.
4. We are not to attempt the particular ex-
planation of those prophecies which remain to be
fulfilled.
For an account of the doctrines and precepts
contained in the Scriptures, see THEOLOGY.
We cannot conclude this article more satis-
factorily to our own minds, nor to that, we would
hope, of a large majority of our readers, than in
the admirable remarks of Dr. Chalmers on the
Supreme Authority of the Scriptures.
' If the New Testament be a message from God,
it behoves us to make an entire and uncondi-
tional surrender of our minds, to all the duty
and to all the information which it sets before
us. There is, perhaps, nothing more thoroughly
beyond • the cognizance of the human faculties
than the truths of religion, and the ways of tha
SCRIPTURE.
671
mighty and invisible Being who is the object of
it ; and yet nothing, we will venture to say, has
been made the subject of more hardy and adven-
turous speculation. We make no allusion at
present to Deists, who reject the authority of the
New Testament because the plan and the dis-
pensation of the Almighty, which is recorded
there, is different from that plan and that dispen-
sation which they have chosen to ascribe to him.
We speak of Christians who profess to admit
the authority of this record, but who have taint-
ed the purity of their profession by not acting
upon its exclusive authority ; who have mingled
their own thoughts and their own fancy with
its information ; who, instead of repairing in
every question, and in every difficulty, to the
principle of IV hat reddest thou ?' have abridged
the sovereignty of this principle, by appealing
to others, of which we undertake to make out
the incompetency ; who, in addition to the word
of God, talk also of the reason of the thing, or
the standard of orthodoxy ; and have in fact
brought down the Bible from the high place
which belongs to it, as the only tribunal to which
the appeal should be made, or from which the
decision should be looked for.
' It is not merely among partizans or the advo-
cates of a system that we meet with this indif-
ference to the authority of what is written. It
lies at the bottom of a great deal of that loose-
ness, both in practice and speculation, which we
meet with every day in society, and which we
often hear expressed in familiar conversation.
Whence that list of maxims which are so indo-
lently conceived, but which, at the same time,
are so faithfully proceeded upon ? ' We have all
our passions and infirmities; but we have ho-
nest hearts, and that will make up for them.
Men are not all cast in the same mould. God
will not call us to task too rigidly for our foibles;
at least this is our opinion, and God can never
be so unmerciful, or so unjust, as to bring us to a
severe and unforgiving tribunal for the mistakes
of the understanding.' Now, it is not licentious-
ness in general, which we are speaking against.
It is against that sanction which it appears to
derive from the self-formed maxims of him who
is guilty of it. It is against the principle that
either an error of doctrine, or an indulgence of
passion, is to be exempted from condemnation,
because it has an opinion of the mind to give
it countenance and authority. What we com-
plain of is, that a man no sooner sets himself
forward and says, ' this is my sentiment,' than
he conceives that all culpability is taken away
from the error, either of practice or speculation,
into which he has fallen. The carelessness with
which the opinion has been formed is of no ac-
count in the estimate. It is the mere existence
of the opinion which is pleaded in vindication,
and under the authority of our maxim, and our
mode of thinking, every man conceives himself
to have a right to his own way and his own pe-
culiarity.
' Now this might be all very fair were there no
Bible and no revelation in existence. But it is
not fair that all this looseness, and all this varie-
ty, should be still floating in the world, in the
face of an authoritative communication from God
himself. Had no message come to us from the
fountain-head of truth, it were natural enough for
every individual mind to betake itself to its own
speculation. But a message has come to us,
bearing on its forehead every character of au-
thenticity ; and is it right now, that the question
of our faith, or of our duty, should be committed
to the capricious variations of this man's taste,
or of that man's fancy? Our maxim, and our
sentiment ! God has put an authoritative stop
to all this. He has spoken, and the right or the
liberty of speculation no longer remains to us.
The question now is not ' What thinkest thou?'
In the days of Pagan antiquity no other ques-
tion could be put ; and the wretched delusions
and idolatries of that period let us see what kind
of answer the human mind is capable of making,
when left to its own guidance, and its own au-
thority. But we call ourselves Christians, and
profess to receive the Bible as the directory of
our faith ; and the only question in which we are
concerned is, ' What is whiten in the law? how
readest thou ?'
' Instead of learning the designs and character
of the Almighty from his own mouth, we sit in
judgment upon them ; and make our conjecture
of what they should be take the precedency of
his revelation of what they are. We do Him
the same injustice that we do to an acquaintance,
whose proceedings and whose intentions we
venture to pronounce upon, while we refuse him
a hearing, or turn away from the letter in which
he explains himself. No wonder, then, at the
want of unanimity among Christians, so long as
the question of ' what thinkest thou?' is made
the principle of their creed, and, for the safe
guidance of criticism, they have committed
themselves to the endless caprices of the human
intellect. Let the principle of ' what thinkest
thou ?' be exploded, and that of ' what readest
thou?' be substituted in its place. Let us take
our lesson as the Almighty places it before us,
and, instead of being the judge of his conduct,
be satisfied with the safer and humbler office of
being the interpreter of his language.
' This principle is not exclusively applicable
to the learned. The great bulk of Christians
have no access to the Bible in its original lan-
guages; but ihey have access to the common
translation, and they may be satisfied, by the
concurrent testimony of the learned among the
different sectaries of this country, that the trans-
lation is a good one. We do not confine the
principle to critics and translators ; we press it
upon all. We call upon them not to form their
divinity by independent thinking, but to receive
it by obedient reading, to take the words as they
stand, and submit to the plain English of the
Scriptures which lie before them. It is the office
of a translator to give a faithful representation
of the original. Now that this faithful represen-
tation has been given, it is our part to peruse it
with care, and to take a fair and a faithful im-
pression of it. It is our part to purify our un-
derstanding of all its previous conceptions. We
must bring a free and unoccupied mind to ihe
exercise. It must not be the pride or the obsti-
nacy of self-formed opinions, or the haughty in-
dependence of him who thinks he has reached
672
SCRIPTURE.
tne manhood of his understanding. We must
bring with us the docility of a child, if we want
to gain the kingdom of heaven. It must not be
a partial, but an entire and unexcepted obedience.
There must be no garbling of that which is en-
tire, no darkening of that which is luminous, no
softening down of that which is authoritative or
severe. The Bible will allow of no compromise.
It professes to be the directory of our faith, and
claims a total ascendency over the souls and the
understandings of men. It will enter into no
composition with us or our principles. It
challenges the whole mind as its due, and it
appeals to the truth of heaven for the high au-
thority of its sanctions. ' Whosoever addeth to,
or taketh from, the words of this book, is accur-
sed,' is the absolute language in which it delivers
itself. This brings us to its terms. There is no
way of escaping after this. We must bring
every thought into the captivity of its obedience,
and, as closely as ever lawyer stuck to his docu-
ment or his extract, must we abide by the rule
and the doctrine which this authentic memorial
of God sets before us. Now we hazard the
assertion, that with a number of professing
Christians there is not this unexcepted submis-
sion of the understanding to the authority of the
Bible; and that the authority of the Bible is
often modified, and in some cases superseded, by
the authority of other principles.
' But is not this an enlightened age? he after-
wards asks, and, since the days of the gospel,
has not the wisdom of 2000 years accumulated
upon the present generation? has not science
been enriched by discovery? and is not theology
one of the sciences. Are the men of this ad-
vanced period to be restrained from the high ex-
ercise of their powers ? and, because the men of
a remote and barbarous antiquity lisped and
drivelled in the infancy of their acquirements, is
that any reason why we should be restricted like
so many schoolboys to the lesson that is set
before us ? It is all true that this is a very en-
lightened age, but on what field has it acquired
so flattering a distinction ? On the field of ex-
periment. The human mind owes all its pro-
gress to the confinement of its efforts within the
safe and certain limits of observation, and to the
severe restraint which it has imposed upon its
speculative tendencies. Go beyond these limits,
and the human mind has not advanced a single
inch by its own independent exercises. All the
philosophy which has been reared by the labor
of successive ages is the philosophy of facts
reduced, to general laws, or brought under a
general description from observed points of re-
semblance. A proud and a wonderful fabric we
do allow ; but we throw away the very instru-
ment by which it was built the moment that we
cease to observe, and begin to theorise and ex-
cogitate. Tell us a single discovery which has
thrown a panicle of light on the details of the
divine administration. Tell us a single truth, in
the whole field of experimental science, which
can bring us to the moral government of the
Almighty by any other road than his own revela-
tion.
' We do all homage to modern science, nor
do we dispute the loftiness of its pretensions.
But we maintain that, however brilliant its
career in those tracts of philosophy where it
has the light of observation to conduct it, the
philosophy of all that lies without the field of
observation is as obscure and inaccessible as
ever. We maintain that, to pass from the mo-
tions of the moon to an unauthorised specu-
lation upon the chemistry of its materials, is a
presumption disowned by philosophy. \\ \>
ought to feel that it would be a still more glaring
transgression of all her maxims, to pass from the
brightest discovery in her catalogue, to the ways
of that mysterious Being whom no eye hath
seen, and whose mind is capacious as infinity.
The splendor and the magnitude of what we do
know can never authorise us to pronounce upon
what we do not know ; nor can we conceive a
transition more violent, or more unwarrantable,
than to pass from the truths of natural science to
a speculation on the details of God's administra-
tion, or the economy of his moral government.
We hear much of revelations from heaven. Let
any one of these bear the evidence of an actual
communication from God himself, and all the
reasonings of all the theologians must vanish, and
give place to the substance of this communication.
Instead of theorising upon the nature and proper-
ties of that divine light which irradiates the throne
of God, and exists at so immeasurable a distance
from our faculties, let us point our eyes to that
emanation which has actually come down to us.
Instead of theorising upon the counsels of the
divine mind, let us go to that volume which
lighted upon our world nearly 2000 years ago,
and which bears the most authentic evidence
that it is the depository of part of these coun-
sels. Let us apply the proper instrument to
this examination. Let us never conceive it to be
a work of speculation or fancy. It is a pure
work of grammatical analysis. It is an unmixed
question of language. The commentator who
opens this book with the one hand, and carries
his system in the other, has nothing to do with it.
We admit of no other instrument than the voca-
bulary and the lexicon. The man whom we
look to is the Scripture critic, who can appeal to
his authorities for the import and significancy of
phrases, and, whatever be the strict result of his
patient and profound philology, we submit to it.
We call upon every enlightened disciple of lord
Bacon to approve the steps of this process, and
to acknowledge that the same habits of philoso-
phising to which science is indebted for all her
elevation in these latter days, will lead us to
cast down all our lofty imaginations, and bring
into captivity every thought to the obedience of
Christ.
SCR
G73
SCR
SCRIVENER, it. s. Fr. escrivnin; Lat. scri-
vano. One who draws contracts among brokers.
We'll pass the business privately and well :
Send for your daughter by your servant here,
5Iy boy shall fetch the scrivener.
Shttkipeiire. Taming of the Shrew.
Yet certain though it be, it hath flaws ; for that
the scriveners and brokers do value unsound men to
serve their own turn Boeon't Essays.
How happy in his low degree.
Who leads a quiet country life,
And from the griping scrivener free !
DrydtrCt Horace.
I am reduced to beg and borrow from scriveners
and usurers, that suck the heart and blood.
Arbuthnot's History of John Bull.
A SCRIVKXER, if entrusted with a bond, may
receive the interest: and, if he fails, the obligee
shall bear the loss : and so it is if he receive the
principal and deliver up the bond ; for, being
entrusted with the security itself, it must be pre-
sumed that he is trusted with power to receive
interest or principal ; and the giving up the
bond on payment of the money shall be a dis-
charge thereof. But, if a scrivener shall be en-
trusted with a mortgage-deed, he hath only
authority to receive the interest, not the prin-
cipal, and the giving up the deed in this case is
not sufficient to restore the estate, but there
must be a reconveyance, &c. It is held, where
a scrivener puts out his client's money on a bad
security, which upon enquiry might have been
easily found so, yet he cannot in equity be
charged to answer for the money ; for it is here
said, no one would venture to put out money of
another upon a security, if he were obliged to
warrant and make it good in case a loss should
happen, without any fraud in him.
SCRIVER1US (Peter), a learned Dutch au-
thor, born at Haerlem, in 1590. He wrote 1.
Batavia lllustrata; 2. Notes upon Aquilius's
Chronicum Geldricum ; 3. Some other works
upon the Antiquities of the United Provinces,
lie also corrected a copy of Vegetius ; and died
in 1653, aged sixty-three.
SCROFANELLO, in ichthyology, a name
•which some have given to a small fish of the Me-
diterranean more usually known by the name of
scorpwna.
SCROF1JLA,n. s. ) Lat. scrofa, a sow, as
SCROF'ULOUS, adj. J Or. xotpac. A deprava-
tion of the humors of the body, which breaks
out in sores ; commonly called the king's evil :
the adjective corresponds.
Scrofulous persons can never be duly nourished >
for such as have tumours in the parotides often have
them in the pancreas and mesentery.
Arbuthiiot on Aliments.
English consumptions generally proceed from a
scrofulous disposition. Arlulhnot.
If matter in the milk dispose to coagulation, it
produces a scrofula. Wiseman of Tumours.
What wouffl become of the race of men in the
next age, if we had nothing to trust to, beside the
icroftilous consumptive production furnished by our
men of wit and pleasure ? Swift.
ScRort'LA. See MEDICINE.
SCROLL, w. s. By Minsheu supposed to be
corrupted from roll; by Skinner from znescrotille
given by the heralds; whence parchment,
VOL. XIX.
wrapped up in a similar form, has the same
name. A writing wrapped up.
His chamber all was hanged about with rolls,
And old records from ancient times deriv'd ;
Some made in books, some in long parchment scrolls,
That were all worm-eaten, and full of canker-holes.
Spenser.
A Numidian priest, bellowing out certain super-
stitious charms, cast divers scrolls of paper on each
side the way, wherein he cursed and banned the
Christians. Knolles.
We'll add a royal number to the dead,
Gracing the scroll that tells of this war's loss,
With slaughter coupled to the name of kings.
Shahxpeare.
Here is the scroll of every man's name, which is
thought fit through all Athens to play in our inter-
lude. Id.
He drew forLh a scroll of parchment, and delivered
it to our foremast man. Bacon.
Such follow him as shall be registered ;
Part good, part bad : of bad the longer scroll.
Milton.
With this epistolary scroll,
Receive the partner of my inmost soul. Prior.
SCROON, a lake of the state of New York,
United States. Twelve miles west of George
Lake, eight miles long, and one broad.
SCROON, a river of the United States, in New
York, the north-east branch of the Hudson. It
runs from Scroon Lake into the Hudson, and has
several falls.
SCROPHULA. See MEDICINE.
SCROPHULARIA, figwort, in botany, a
genus of the angiospermia order, and didynamia
class of plants ; natural order fortieth, per-
sonatae : CAL. quinquefid : COR. almost globose,
and resupinated : CAPS, biloculated. There are
several species, of which the most remarkable
are these : —
1 . S. aquatica, water figwort or betony. The
root is fibrous ; stem erect, square, about four
feet high. The leaves are opposite, elliptical,
pointed, slightly scalloped, on decurrent foot-
stalks. Flowers purple, in loose naked spikes.
It grows on the sides of rivulets and other wet,
places, and has a fetid smell. The leaves are
used in medicine as a corrector of senna.
2. S. nodosa, or the common figwort, which
grows in woods and hedges. The root is tu-
brous ; the stalks are four or five feet high, and
branched towards the top ; the leaves are heart
shaped, serrated, and acute. The flowers are of
a dark red color, shaped like a cap or helmet ;
the lower lip greenish : they grow in loose
dichotomous spikes or racemi at the top of the
branches. The leaves have a fetid smell and
bitter taste. An ointment made of the root was
formerly used to cure scrofulous sores, but is
at present out of practice.
3. S. scorodonia, or balm-leaved figwort. The
stem is erect, square, about two feet high. The
leaves are opposite, doubly serrated. The
flowers are dusky purple, in composite bunches.
It crows on the banks of rivulets, &c., in Corn-
wall.
4. S. vernal is, or yellow figwoit. The stalks
are square, hairy, brown, about two feet high.
The leaves are heart-shaped, roundish, hairy, in«-
dented, opposite. The flowers are yellow, ojj
2X
SCR
674
SCR
Dingle forked foot-stalks from the ala? of the
leaves. It grows in hedges in Surry.
SCROYLE, n. s. Fr. escroudle. A scrofu-
lous swelling; a mean fellow ; a rascal ; a scabby
wretch.
The scroyles of Anglers flout you kings,
And stand securely on their battlements,
As in a theatre. Shaksjeare. King John.
SCRUB, v. a. & n. s. j Belgic schrobben ;
SCRUB'BED, % Swed. skrubba. To
SCRUB'BY, adj. j rub hard with some-
thing coarse : a mean fellow ; any thing mean :
the adjective corresponding.
I gave it to a youth,
A kind of boy, a little tcrubbed boy,
No higher than thyself.
Shahtpeare. Merchant of Venice.
Such wrinkles as a skilful hand would draw
For an old grandam ape, when with a grace
She sits at squat, and scrub* her leathern face.
Dryden.
She never would lay aside the use of brooms and
scrubbing brushes. Arbuihnot.
Now Moll had whirled her mop with dexterous
Prer
airs,
m stairs. Swift.
y vault shall be
repar'd to scrub the entry and the
With a dozen large vessels m
stor'd j
No little scrub joint shall come on my board. Id.
The scene a wood, produced no more
Than a few scrubby trees before. Id.
SCRUB, one of the smaller Virgin Islands of
the West Indies, to the east of the north extre-
mity of Tortola, on which it depends. Long.
62° 57' E., lat. 18° 25' N.
SCRU'PLE, n. s. &v.n.\ French scru-
SCRUPULOSITY, (pule; Lat. scrupu-
SCRU'PDLOUS, adj. > lus. Doubt ; diffi-
SCRC'PULOUSLY, adv. i culty of determina-
SCRO'PULOUSNESS, n. s. ) tion; perplexity :
the third part of a dram ; any small quantity :
scrupulosity also means doubt, state of, or dispo-
sition to doubt ; minute exactitude : the other
derivatives follow this sense.
The one sort they warned to take heed, that scru-
pulotity did not make them rigorous in giving unad-
vised sentence against their brethren which were
free ; the other, that they did not become scandalous
by abusing their liberty and freedom, to the offence
of their weak brethren, which were tmipulout.
Hooker.
Macduff, this noble passion,
Child of integrity, hath from my soul
Wiped the black scruples, reconciled my thoughts
To your good truth. Shaktpeare. Macbeth.
Equality of two domestic powers
Breeds tcrvpulous faction. Id. Antony and Cleopatra.
Nothing did more fill foreign nations with admi-
ration of his succession, than the consent of all es-
tates of England for the receiving of the king with-
out the least temple, pause, or question. Bacon.
Milk, one ounce, oil of vitriol a scruple, doth coa-
gulate the milk. Id.
As the cause of a war ought to be just, so the jus-
tice of that cause ought to be evident ; not obscure
not scrupulous. Id.
The first sacrilege is looked on with horror : but,
when they have made the breach, their scrupulosity
soon retires. Decay of Piety.
For the matter of your confession, let it be severe
and serious ; but yet so as it may be without any in-
ordinate anxiety, and unnecessary scruples, which
only entangle the soul. Taylor.
I le scrupled not to eat
Against his better knowledge ; not deceived,
But fondly overcome with female charms.
Milton's Paradise Lor. .
The scruples which many public ministers would
make of the worthiness of parents to have their chil-
dren baptized, forced such questioned parents, who
did not believe the necessity of having their children
baptized by such scruplers, to carry their children
unto other ministers. Grawit's Bills of Mortality.
Men make no temple to conclude that those propo-
sitions, of whose knowledge they can find in them-
selves no original, were certainly the impress of God
and nature upon their minds, and not taught them
by any one else. Locke.
Some birds, inhabitants of the waters, whose
blood is cold as fishes, and their flesh is so like in
taste, that the scrupulous are allowed them on fish
days. Id.
So careful, even to scrupulosity, were they to keep
their sabbath, that they must not only have a time to
prepare them for that, but a further time also to pre-
pare them for their very preparations. South.
Henry V. manifestly derived his courage from his
piety, and was scrupulously careful not to ascribe the
success of it to himself. Addison'i Freeholder.
I have been the more scrupulous and wary, in re-
gard the inferences from these observations are of
importance. Woodward.
Dubius is such a scrupulous good man,
Yes — you may catch him tripping, if you can.
He would not, with a peremptory tone,
Assert the nose upon his face his own. Cau-per.
SCRUPLE, among goldsmiths, twenty-fou.-
grains.
SCRUPLE, in Chaldean chronology, is ^ part
of an hour, called by the Hebrews helakin.
These scruples are much used by Arabs and
other eastern nations, in computation of time.
SCRUPULUM, or SCKUPULUS, Latin, a scru-
ple; the least of the weights used by the an-
cients, which, among the Romans, was the
twenty-fourth part of an ounce, or the third part
of a dram.
SCRUTABLE, idj. J Lat. scrutor. Disco-
SCRUTA'TOR, n. s. i verable by enquiry ; an
enquirer or searcher.
Shall we think God so \crutable, or ourselves s»
penetrating, that none of his secrets can escape us?
Decay of' Piety.
In process of time, from being a simple scrutator,
an archdeacon became to have jurisdiction more
amply. Ayliffe.
SCRUTINY, n. *. » Lat. scrutinium. En-
SCRU'TINISE, v. a. >quiry ; search ; examina-
SCRU'TINOUS, adj. j tion with nicety : to
search; examine: captious; careful.
In the scrutinies for righteousness and judgment,
when it is inquired whether such a person be a good
man or no, the meaning is not, what does he be-
lieve or hope, but what he loves.
Taylor'* Rule of Holy Living.
Age is froward, uneasy, scnttinoti*,
Hard to be pleased, and parsimonous. Denham.
Their difference to measure, and to reach.
Reason well rectified must nature teach •
And these high scrutiniet are subjects fit
For man's all-searching and enquiring wit. Id
I thought thee worth my nearer view
And narrower scrutiny, that I might learn
In what degree or meaning thou art called
The Son of God. Milton's Paradite Regained
scu
575
SCU
They that have designed exactness and deep acru-
Jt;iy, have taken some one part of nature. Hnle.
We are admonished of want of charity towards
others, and want of a Christian scrutiny and exami-
nation into ourselves. L'Eitnaigp.
These, coming not within the scrutiny of human
senses, cannot be examined by them, or attested by
any body. Locke.
The compromissarii should chuse according to the
votes of such whose votes they were obliged to scru-
linize. Auli/e.
When any argument of great importance is ma-
naged with that warmth which a serious conviction
of it generally inspires, somewhat may easily escape,
even from a wary pen, which will not bear the test
of a severe scrutiny. Atterbury.
SCRUTINY (scrutinium), in the early ages of
the church an examination or probation practised
in the last week of Lent, on the catechumens,
who were to receive baptism on the Easter-day.
The scrutiny was performed with a great many
ceremonies. Exorcisms and prayers were made
over the heads of the catechumens ; and, on
Palm Sunday, the Lord's Prayer and Creed were
given them, which they were afterwards made to
rehearse. This custom was more in use in the
church of Rome than any where else : though it
appears by some missals, to have been likewise
used, though much later, in the Gallican church.
Tt is supposed to have ceased about A. D. 860.
SCRUTINY is also used, in the canon law, for
a ticket, or little paper billet, wherein at elec-
tions the electors write their votes privately, so
as it may be known for whom they vote. Among
us the term scrutiny is chiefly used for a strict
perusal and examination of the several votes
hastily taken at an election ; in order to find out
any irregularities committed therein, by unqua-
lified voters, &c.
SCRUTOIRE', n. s. Fr. scritoire, or escri-
toire. A case of drawers for writings.
I locked up these papers in my scrutoire, and my
scrutoire came to be unlocked. Prior.
SCRUZE, v.a. Perhaps from screw. This
word, says Johnson, though now disused by
writers, is still preserved, in its corruption, to
scrouge, in the London jargon. To squeeze ;
compress.
Though up he caught him 'twixt his puissant
hands,
And having scruzed out of his carrion corse
The loathful life, now loosed from sinful bands,
Upon his shoulders carried him. Faerie Queene.
SCUD, v.n. Ital. squittire ; Swed. skutta ;
Isl. skictur, swift; Goth, skiota. To fly; run
away with precipitation.
The frighted satyrs, that in woods delight,
Now into plains with pricked-up ears take flight ;
And scudding thence, while they their horn-feet ply,
About their sires the little sylvans cry. Dryden.
The vote was no sooner passed, but away they
scudded to the next lake. L'Etirange.
Away the frighted spectre scuds,
And leaves my lady in the suds. Swift.
SCUDDING, the movement by which a ship is
carried precipitately before a tempest. As a ship
flies with amazing rapidity through the water
whenever this expedient is put in practice, it is
never attempted in a contrary wind, unless when
her condition renders her incapable of sustaining
the mutual efforts of the wind and waves any
longer on her side. A ship either scuds with a
sail extended on her fore-mast, or, if the storm
is excessive, without any sail ; which, in the
sea-phrase, is called scudding under bare poles.
In sloops and schooners, and other small vessels,
the sail employed for this purpose is called the
square sail. In large ships it is either the fore-
sail at large reefed, or with its goose-wings ex-
tended, according to the degree of the tempest ;
or it is the fore-top-sail, close reefed, and lowered
on the cap ; which last is particularly used when
the sea runs so high as to becalm the foresail
occasionally, a circumstance which exposes the
ship to the danger of broaching-to. The princi-
pal hazards incident to scudding are generally,
a pooping sea ; the difficulty of steering, which
exposes the vessel perpetually to the risk of
broaching-to ; and the want of sufficient sea-
room. A sea striking the snip violently on the
stern may dash it inwards, by which she must
inevitably founder. In broaching-to (that is, in-
clining suddenly to windward) she is threatened
with being immediately overturned ; and, for
want of sea-room, she is endangered by ship-
wreck on a lee-shore, a circumstance, alas, of too
frequent occurrence to require explanation.
SCUDERY (George), de, an eminent French
writer, descended of an ancient and noble family
in Provence, and born at Havre de Grace in
1603. He was educated at Apt, and afterwards
settled at Paris. In 1638 he published Obser-
vations on the Cid of Cornell. He afterwards
wrote several dramatic pieces, poems of various
kinds, and some tracts in prose. He was ap-
pointed governor of the castle of Notre Dame de
la Garde, near Marseilles ; and, in 1650, was
admitted a member of the Royal Academy. He
died at Paris 1667.
SCUDERY (Magdalene), de, sister of George,
was born at Havre de Grace, in 1607, and be-
came eminent for her writings. She went early
to Paris, and soon became a very voluminous
writer; and published many romances which
sold rapidly. Her abilities were reckoned su-
perior to her brother's ; the celebrated Academy
of the Ricovrati at Padua admitted her an hono-
rary member, and she succeeded the learned
Helena Cornaro. She also received the first
prize for eloquence given by the academy. She
received many valuable presents from several
great personages. She died in 1 70 1 , aged ninety-
four, and two churches contended fiercely for the
honor of receiving her remains ; and it required
no less authority than that of cardinal de Noailles
to decide the dispute.
SCUF'FLE, n. s. & v. n. Derived by Skin-
ner from shuffle. But there is a Swed. skuffa^
and Goth, skiufa. A confused quarrel; tumul-
tuous broil ; to fight in confusion.
His captain's heart,
In the scuffle of great fights, hath burst
The buckles on his breast.
Shalapeare. Antony and Cleopatra..
Avowed atheists, placing themselves in the seat of
the scorner, take much pleasing drvertisement, by
deriding our eager sniffles about that which they
think nettling. Decay of Piety.
2X2
676
SCULPTURE.
I must confess I've seen in former days
The best knights in the world, and scujflled in some
frays. Drat/tun.
A gallant man would rather fight to great disad-
vantages in the field, in an orderly way, than scuffle
with an undisciplined rabble. King Charles.
The dog leaps upon the serpent, and tears it to
pieces ; but in the scuffle the cradle happened to be
overturned. L' Estrange.
Popish missionaries mix themselves in these dark
scuffles, and animate the mob to such outrages and
insults. Addison.
SCULK, v. n. Dan. sculcke ; Swed. skulka;
Goth, skiula. To lurk in hiding-places ; lie
close.
Fearing to be seen, within a bed
Of coleworts he concealed his wily head ;
There iculked till afternoon, and watched his time.
Dryden.
It has struck on a sudden into such a reputation,
at it scorns any longer to sculk, but owns itself
ublicly. Government of the Tongue.
My prophets and my sophists finished here
Their civil efforts of the verbal war :
Not so my rabbins and logicians yield ;
Retiring still they combat ; from the field
Of open arms unwilling they depart,
And sculk behind the subterfuge of art.1 Prior.
No news of Phyl ! the bridegroom came,
And thought his bride had srulked for shame ;
Because her father used to say,
The girl had such a bashful way. Swift.
SCULL, n. i. Sax. rcpul. Derived by Ski n-
ier from shell, and in some provinces called
shull. Mr. Lye observes more satisfactorily that
skola is 'in Islandic the skull of an animal. —
Johnson. It is clearly derived from Goth, shot,
skal. The bone which incases and defends the
brain.
Fractures of the $cull are at all times very dange-
rous, as the brain becomes affected from the pressure.
Sharp.
SCULL, n.s. Sax. j-ceole, an assembly. In
Milton's style, a shoal or vast multitude of fish.
Each bay
With fry innumerable swarm, and shoals
Of fish, that with their fins and shining scales
Glide under the green wave, in sculls that oft
Bank the mid sea. Milton.
Like caitiff vile, that for misdeed
Rides with his face to rump of steed ;
Or rowing scutt, he's fain to love,
Look one way and another move. Hudibrat. '
Her soul already was consigned to fate,
And shivering in the leaky sculler sate. Dryden.
They hire the sculler, and, when once abroad.
Grow sick, and damn the climate like a lord. Pope.
- SCULL'CAP, 7i. s. Scull and cap. A head-
piece; nightcap.
SCULL'ERY, n. s. Fr. escueille, a dish ; Isl.
skiolo, a vessel. The place where common
utensils, as kettles or dishes, are cleaned and
kept.
I must, like a whore, unpack my heart with won!'
And fall a-cursing like a very drab,
A scullion, fye upon 't ! foh ! about my brain.
Slialupeare. Hamlet.
Pyreicus was famous for counterfeiting base things,
as pitchers, a tcuLlery, and setting rogues together
by the ears. Peacham.
If the gentleman hath lain there, get the cook, the
stable-men, and the scullion, to stand in his way.
Siirift.
SCULPTURE.
SCULP, v. a. -\ Fr. sculper ; Lat.
SCULP'TILE, adj. tsculpo. To carve;
SCULP'TOR, n. s. £ engrave: sculptile
SCULP'TURE. n. s. & v. a. J is made by carving.
Words not in use. A sculptor is a carver of
wood or stone into images, busts, &c. : sculpture,
his art, see below : the verb corresponds in
meaning.
O that the tenor of my just complaint
Were sculpt with steel on rocks of adamant !
Sandys.
In a silver medal is upon one side Moses horned,
and on the reverse the commandment against sculp-
tile images. Browns.
Nor did there want
Cornice or freeze with bossy sculpture graven.
Milton.
There too, in living sculpture, might be seen
The mad affection of the Cretan queen. Dryden.
Thy shape's in every part
So clean, as might instruct the iculptor s art. Id.
The Latin poets give the epithets of trifidum and
triMilrum to the thunderbolt, from the sculptors and
painters that lived before them, that had given it
three forks. Addison.
Then sculpture and her sister arts revive,
Stones leaped to form and rocks began to live.
Pope.
Gold, silver, ivory vases sculptured high,
There are wljo have not. Id.
HISTORY OF SCULPTURE.
SCULPTURE is an art of remote antiquity, being
practised, as there is reason to believe, before the
general deluge. We are induced to assign to it
this early origin, by considering the expedients
by which, in the first stages of society, men have
every where supplied the place of alphabetical
characters. These, it is universally known, have
been picture writing, such as that of the Mexi-
cans, which, in the progress of refinement and
knowledge, was gradually improved into the
hieroglyphics of the Egyptians and other ancient
nations. See HIEROGLYPHICS.
That mankind should have lived nearly 1700
years, from the creation of the world to the flood
of Noah, without falling upon any method to
make their conceptions permanent, or to com-
municate them to a distance, is extremely im-
probable : especially when we consider that such
methods of writing have been found, in modern
times, among people much less enlightened than
those must have been, who were capable of
building such a vessel as the ark. But, if the
antediluvians were acquainted with any kind of
writing, there can be little doubt of its having
been hieroglyphical. Bryant has proved that the
Chaldeans were possessed of that art before ths
Egyptians; and Berosus CApud. Syncellum, p
SCULPTURE
677
87), informs us, that a delineation of all the
monstrous forms which inhabited the chaos,
when this earth was in that state, was to be seen
in the temple of Belus in Babylon. This deli-
neation, as he describes it, must have been a
history in hieroglyphical characters ; for it con-
sisted of human figures with wings, with two
heads, and some with the horns and legs of
goats. This is exactly similar to the hierogly-
phical writings of the Egyptians ; and it was
preserved, our author says, both in drawings and
engravings in the temple of the god of Babylon.
As Chaldea was the first peopled region of the
earth after the flood, and as it appears from
Pliny, as well as from Berosus, that the art of
engraving upon bricks baked in the sun was
there carried to a considerable degree of perfec-
tion at a very early period, the probability cer-
tainly is that the Chaldeans derived the art of
hieroglyphical writing, and consequently the ru-
diments of the art of sculpture, from their ante-
diluvian ancestors.
It is generally thought that sculpture had
its origin from idolatry, as it was found neces-
sary to place before the people the images of
their gods to enliven the fervor of their devotion ;
but this is probably a mistake. The worship of
the heavenly bodies, as the only gods of the
heathen nations, prevailed so long before the dei-
fication of dead men was thought of (see POLY-
THEISM) that we cannot suppose mankind to
have been, during all that time, ignorant of the
art of hieroglyphical writing. But the deifica-
tion of departed heroes undoubtedly gave rise to
the almost universal practice of representing the
gods by images of a human form ; and therefore
we must conclude that the elements of sculpture
were known before that art was employed to en-
liven the devotion of idolatrous worshippers.
The pyramids and obelisks of Egypt, which
were probably temples, or other altars, dedicated
to the sun (see PYRAMID), were covered from
top to bottom with hieroglyphical emblems of
men, beasts, birds, fishes, and reptiles, at a period
prior to that in which there is any unexception-
able evidence that mere statue worship prevailed
even in that nursery of idolatry. Thus it appears
evident that picture-writing was the first employ-
ment of the sculptor ; and that idolatrous worship
contributed to carry his art to that perfection
which it attained in some of the nations of antiquity .
Even in the dark ages of Europe, when the other
fine arts were almost extinguished, the mummery
of the church of Rome, and the veneration which
she taught for saints and martyrs, preserved
among the Italians some vestiges of the sister
arts of sculpture and printing ; and therefore it
is reasonable to believe that a similar veneration
for heroes and demigods would, among the an-
cient nations have a similar effect. The pre-
sumption therefore is, that the Chaldeans were
the first who invented the art of hewing blocks
of wood and stone into the figures of men and
other animals ; for the Chaldeans were unques-
tionably the first idolaters, and their early pro-
gress in sculpture is confirmed by the united
testimonies of Berosus, Alexander Polyhistor,
Apollodorus. and Pliny ; not to mention the
eastern tradition that Terah the father of Abraham
was a statuary.
Against this conclusion Bromley, in his His-
tory of the Fine Arts, has urged some plausible
objections. In stating these he professes not to
be original, or derive his information from the
fountain head of antiquity. He adopts, he says,
the theory of a French writer, who maintains
that in the year of the world 1949, about 300
years after the Deluge, the Scythians under
Brouma, a descendant of Magog the son of Ja-
phet, extended their conquests over the greater
part of Asia. According to this System, Brouma
\\as not only the civiliser of India, and the au-
thor of the braminical doctrines, but also dif-
fused the principles of the Scythian mythology
over Egypt, Phoenicia, Greece, and the continent
of Asia.
Of these principles Mr. Bromley has given
us no distinct enumeration : the account which he
gives of them is not to be found in one place, but
to be collected from a variety of distant passages.
In attempting, therefore, to present the substance
of his scattered hints in one view, we will not be
confident that we have omitted none of them.
The ox, says he, was the Scythian emblem of the
generator of animal life, and hence it became the
principal divinity of the Arabians. The serpent
was the symbol of the source of intelligent na-
ture. These were the common points of union
in all the first religions of the earth. From
Egypt the Israelites carried with them a religious
veneration for the ox and the serpent. Their
veneration for the ox appeared soon after they
marched into the wilderness, when, in the ab-
sence of Moses, they called upon Aaron to make
them gods which should go before them. The
idea of having an idol to go before them, says
our author, was completely Scythian ; for so the
Scythians acted in all their progress through
Asia, with this difference, that their idol was a
living animal. The Israelites having gained
their favorite god, which was an ox (not a calf,
as it is rendered in the book of Exodus), next
proceeded to hold a festival, which was to be ac-
companied with dancing; a species of gaiety
common in the festivals which were held in
adoration of the emblematic Urotal, or ox, in that
very part of Arabia near Mount Sinai where this
event took place. It is mentioned too, as a curi-
ous and important fact, that the ox, which was
revered in Arabia was called Adonai. Accord-
ingly Aaron, announcing the feast of the ox or
golden calf, speaks thus, to morrow is a feast to
Adonai, which is in our translation rendered to
the Lord. In the time of Jeroboam we read of
the golden calves set up as objects of worship at
Bethel and Dan. Nor was the reverence paid
to the ox confined to Scythia, to Egypt, and to
Asia; it extended much farther. The ancient
Cimbri, as the Scythians did, carried an ox of
bronze before them on all their expeditions. Mr.
Bromley also informs us that as great respect
was paid to the living ox among the Greeks as
was offered to its symbol among other nation's.
The emblem of the serpent, continues Mr
Bromley was marked yet more decidedly by thf
express direction of the Almighty. That animal
had ever been considered as emblematic of the
supreme generating power of intelligent life
nor was that idea, says lie, discouraged so far ;•.*
678
SCULPTURE.
it went to bo a sign or symbol of life, when God
said to Moses, ' Make thee a brazen serpent,
and set it upon a pole, and it shall come to pass
that every one who is bitten, when he looketh
upon it, shall live.' The serpent made a distin-
guished figure in Grecian sculpture. The fable
of Echidna, the mother of the Scythians, gave
her figure terminating as a serpent, to all the
founders of states in Greece ; from which their
earliest sculptors represented in that form the
Titan princes, Cecrops, Draco, and Erichthonius.
Besides the spear of the image of Minerva,
which Phidias made for the citadel of Athens,
he placed a serpent, which was supposed to
guard that goddess. The serpent was combined
with many other figures. It sometimes, was
coiled round an egg as an emblem of the crea-
tion ; sometimes round a trident to show its
power over the sea; sometimes it encircled a
flambeau, to represent life and death.
In Egypt, as well as in Scythia and India, the
divinity was represented on the leaves of the
tamara lotus. Their sphinxes, and all their com-
bined figures of animal creation, took their origin
from the mother of the Scythians, who brought
forth an offspring that was half a woman and
half a serpent. Their pyramids and obelisks
arose from the idea of flame ; the first emblems
of the supreme principle, introduced by the Scy-
thians, and which even the influence of Zoroaster
and the Magi could not remove.
The Bacchus of the Greeks is derived from
the Brouma of the Indians ; both are represented
as seated on a swan swimming over the waves,
to indicate that each was the god of humid na-
ture, not the god of wine, but the gorl of waters.
The mitre of Bacchus was shaped like half an
egg ; an emblem taken from this circumstance,
that at the creation the egg, from which all things
sprung, was divided in the middle. Pan also
was revered among the Scythians ; and from
that people were derived all the emblems by
which the Greeks represented this divinity.
It would be tedious to follow our author
through the whole of this subject; and, were we
to submit to that labor, we should still view his
system with suspicion. It is drawn, he says,
from the work of M. D'Ancarvi-lle, entitled lle-
cherches sur 1'Origine, 1'Esprit, et les Progres,
des Arts de la Grece.
To form conclusions concerning the origin of
nations, the rise and progress of the arts and
sciences, without the aid of historical evidence,
by analogies which are sometimes accidental, and
often fanciful, is a mode of reasoning which can-
not be admitted. There may, indeed, be resem-
blances in the religion, language, manners, and
customs of different nations, so striking and so
numerous, that to doubt of their being descended
from the same stock would savor of scepticism.
But historical theories must not be adopted
rashly. We must be certain that the evidence
is credible and satisfactory before we proceed to
deduce any conclusions. We must first know
whether the Scythian history itself be authentic,
\ efore we make any comparison with the history
of other nations. But what is called the Scy-
: Man history, every man of learning knows tobe
a collection of fables. Herodotus and Justin
are the two ancient writers from whom we have
the fullest accounts of that warlike nation ; but
these two historians contradict each other, and
both write what cannot be believed of the same
people at the same period of their progress.
Justin tells us that there was a long and violent
contest between the Scythians and Egyptians
about the antiquity of their respective nations ;
and after stating the arguments on each side of
the question, which, as he gives them (lib. ii. c.
1.), are nothing to the purpose, he decides in fa-
vor of the claim of the Scythians. Herodotus
was too partial to the Egyptians not to give then:
the palm of antiquity ; and he was in the right,
for Justin describes this most ancient of nations,
even in the time of Darius Hystaspis, as igno-
rant of all the arts of civil life. ' They occupier,
their land in common,' says he, ' and cultivated
none of it. They had no houses nor settled ha-
bitations, but wandered with their cattle from
desert to desert. In these rambles they carried
their wives and children in tumbrels covered
with the skins of beasts, which served as houses
to protect them from the storms of winter. They
were without laws, but governed by the dictates of'
natural equity. They coveted not gold or silver
like the rest of mankind, and lived upon milk
and honey. Though they were exposed to ex-
treme cold, and had abundance of flocks, they
knew not how to make garments of wool, but
clothed themselves in the skins of wild beasts.'
This is the most favorable account which an
ancient writer gives of the Scythians. By Strabo
and Herodotus they are represented as the most
savage of mortals, delighting in war and blood-
shed, cutting the throats of all strangers who
came among them, eating their flesh, and making
cups and pots of their skulls. Is it conceivable
that such savages could be sculptors ; or that,
even supposing their manners to have been such
as Justin represents them, a people so simple
and ignorant could have imposed their mythology
upon the Chaldeans, Phoenicians, and Egyptians,
whom we know by the most incontrovertible evi-
dence to have been great and polished nations
so early as in the days of Abraham ? No ! We
could as soon admit other novelties, with which
the French of the present age pretend to en-
lighten the world, as this origin assigned by
Mr. Bromley to the art of sculpture.
The inference of our author from the name of
the sacred ox in Arabia, and from the dancing
and gaiety in the religious festivals of the Ara-
bians, appears to be very hastily drawn. At the
early period of the departure of the Israelites
from Egypt, the language of the Hebrews, Egyp-
tians, and Arabians, differed not more from each
other than the different*dialects of the Greek
tongue which are found in the poems of Homer ;
and, for many years after the formation of the
golden calf, the Hebrews were strangers to every
species of idolatry but that which they had
brought with them from their house of bondage.
See KEMPUAN. Taking it for granted, therefore,
that the Scythians did not impose their mytho-
logy upon the eastern nations, and that the art
of sculpture, as well as hieroglyphic writing and
idolatrous worship, prevailed first among the
Chaldeans, we shall trace the progress of this
SCULPTURE.
679
irt through some other nations of antiquity
till we bring it to Greece, where it was carried
to the highest perfection to which it has yet at-
'ained.
The first intimation that we have of the art of
sculpture is in the book of Genesis, where we
are informed that when Jacob, by the divine
command, was returning to Canaan, his wife
Rachel carried along with her the teraphim or
idols of her father. These we are assured were
small, since Rachel found it so easy to conceal
them from her father, notwithstanding his anxious
search. We are ignorant, however, how these
images were made, or of what materials they
were composed. The first person mentioned as
an artist of eminence is Bezaleel, who formed the
cherubim which covered the mercy-seat.
SECT. I. — OF THE ANCIENT EGYPTIAN SCULP-
TURE.
The Egyptians early cultivated the art of
sculpture ; but there were two circumstances
that obstructed its progress. 1 . The persons of
the Egyptians were not possessed of the graces
of form, elegance, or symmetry ; and of conse-
quence they had no perfect standard to model
their taste. They resembled the Chinese in the
cast of their face, in their great bellies, and in
the clumsy rounding of their contours. 2. They
were restrained by their iaws to the principles
and practices of their ancestors, and were not
permitted to introduce any innovations. Their
statues were always formed in the same stiff atti-
tude, with the arms hanging perpendicularly
down their sides. What perfection were they
capable of who knew no other attitude than that
of chairmen ? So far were they from attempting
any improvements, that in the time of Adrian the
art continued in the same rude state as at first ;
and, when their slavish adoration of that emperor
induced them to place the statue of his favorite
Antinous among the objects of their worship,
the same inanimate stiffness in the attitude of
the body and position of the arms was observed.
This Egyptian statue, therefore, was different
from the celebrated statue of Autinous, of which
so many moulds have been taken that imitations
of it are now to be met with almost in every ca-
binet in Europe.
Notwithstanding the attachment of the Egyp-
tians to ancient usages, Winkelman thinks he
has discovered two different styles of sculpture
which prevailed at different periods. The first
of these ends with the conquest of Egypt by
Cambyses. The second begins at that time, and
extends beyond the reign of Alexander the Great.
In the first style, the lines which form the con-
tour are straight, and projecting a little : the po-
sition is stiff and unnatural : in sitting figures
the legs are parallel, the feet squeezed together,
and the arms fixed to the sides; but in the figures
of women the left arm is folded across the breast;
the bones and muscles are faintly discernible;
the eyes are flat and looking obliquely, and the
eyebrows sunk ; features which destroy entirely
the beauty of the head ; the cheek-bones are hi;jh,
the chin small and piked; the ears are generally
placed higher than in nature, and the feet are
too large and flat. In short, if we are to look for
any model in the statues of Egypt, it is not for
the model of beauty, but of deformity. The sta-
tues of men are naked, only they have a short
apron, and a few folds of drapery surrounding
their waist : the vestments of women are only
distinguishable by the border, which rises a little
above the surface of the statue. In this age it
is evident the Egyptians knew little of drapery.
Of the second style of sculpture practised
among the Egyptians, Winkelman thinks he has
found specimens in the two figures of basaltes
in the capitol, and in another figure at Villa Al-
bani, the head of which has been renewed. The
two first of these, he remarks, bear visible traces
of the former style, which appear especially in
the form of the mouth and shortness of the chin.
The hands possess more elegance ; and the feet
are placed at a greater distance from one another.
In the fust and third figures the arms hang down
close to the sidr;. In the second they hang
more freely. Winkelman suspects that these
three statues have been made after the conquest
of Egypt by the Greeks. They are clothed with
a tunic, a robe, and a mantle. Their tunic,
which is puckered into many folds, descends
from the neck to the ground. The robe in the
first and third statues seems close to the body,
and is only perceptible by some little folds. It
is tied under the breast, and covered by the
mantle, the two buttons of which are placed
under the epaulet.
The Antinous of the capitol is composed of
two pieces, which are joined under the haunches.
But, as all the Egyptian statues which now re-
main have been hewn out of one block, we must
believe that Diodorus, in saying the stone was
divided, and each half finished by a separate
artisan, spoke only of a colossus. He tells us
that the Egyptians divided the human body into
twenty-four parts and three-quarters : but it is
to be regretted that he has not given a more mi-
nute detail of that division. The Egyptian sta-
tues were formed by the chisel, and polished
with great care. Even those on the summit of
an obelisk, which could only be viewed at a dis-
tance, were finished with as much labor as if
they had admitted a close inspection. As they
are generally executed in granite or basaltes,
stones of a very hard texture, it is impossible
not to admire the indefatigable patience of the
artists.
The eye was often of different materials from
the rest of the statue ; sometimes it was com-
posed of a precious stone .or metal. We are
assured that the valuable diamond of the em
press of Russia, the largest and most beautiful
hitherto known, formed one of the eyes of the
famous statue of Scheringham in the temple of
Brama. Those Egyptian statues which still re-
main are composed of wood or baked earth ;
and the statues of earth are covered with green
enamel.
SECT. II. — OF THE PHIENICIAN SCULPTURE.
The Phoenicians possessed both a character
and situation highly favorable to the cultivation
of statuary. They had beautiful models in their
own persons, and their industrious character
qualified them to attain perfection in every art
680
SCULPTURE.
for which they had a taste. Their situation raised
a spirit of commerce, and commerce induced
them to cultivate the arts. The temples shone
with statues and columns of gold, and a profu-
sion of emeralds was every where scattered. All
the great works of the Phoenicians have been un-
fortunately destroyed ; but many of the Cartha-
ginian medals are still preserved, ten of which
are deposited in the cabinet of the king of Etru-
ria. But, though the Carthaginians were a colony
of Phoenicians, we cannot from their works judge
of the merit of their ancestors.
The Persians made no distinguished figure in
the arts of design. They were indeed sensible to
i he charms of beauty, but they did not study to
imitate them. Their dress, which consisted of
long flowing robes, concealing the whole person,
prevented them from attending to the beauties of
form. Their religion, too, which taught them to
worship the divinity in the emblem of fire, and
that it was impious to represent him under a hu-
man form, seemed almost to prohibit the exercise
of this art, by taking away those motives which
alone could give it dignity and value ; and, as it
was not customary among them to raise statues
to great men, it was impossible that statuary
could flourish in Persia.
SECT. III. — OF THE ANCIENT ETRURIAN
SCULPTURE.
The Etrurians, or ancient Tuscans, in the opi-
nion of Winkelman, carried this art to some
degree of perfection at an earlier period than the
Greeks. It is said to have been introduced be-
fore the siege of Troy by Daedalus, who, to es-
cape the resentment of Minos king of Crete,
took refuge in Sicily, whence he passed into Italy,
where he left many monuments of his art. Pau-
sanias and Diodorus Siculus inform us that
some works ascribed to him were to be seen when
they wrote, and that these possessed that cha-
racter of majesty which distinguished the labors
of Etruria.
A character strongly marked forms the chief
distinction in those productions of Etruria which
have descended to us. Their style was indeed
harsh and overcharged ; a fault also committed
by Michael Angelo the celebrated painter of
modern Etruria ; for it is not to be supposed
that a people of such rude manners as the ancient
Etrurians could communicate to their works that
vividness and beauty which the elegance of Gre-
cian manners inspired. On the other hand, there
are many of the Tuscan statues which bear so
close a resemblance to those of Greece, that anti-
quarians have thought it probable that they were
conveyed from that country or Magna Graecia
oilo Etruria about the time of the Roman con-
quest, when Italy was adorned with the spoils of
Greece.
Among the monuments of Etrurian art two
different styles have been observed. In the first
the lines are straight, the attitude stiff, and no
idea of beauty appears in the formation of the
head. The contour is not well rounded, and
the figure is too slender. The head is oval, the
chin piked, the eyes flat, and looking asquint
These are the defects of ;in art in a state of in-
fancy, which an accomplished master co ild
never fall into, and are equally conspicuous in
Gothic statues as in the productions of the an-
cient natives of Florence. They resemble the
style of the Egyptians so much that one is al-
most induced to suppose there had once been a
communication between these two nations : but
others think that this style was introduced by
Daedalus.
Winkelman supposes that the second epoch ot
this art commenced in Etruria, about the time
at which it had reached its greatest perfection in
Greece, in the age of Phidias ; but this conjec-
ture is not supported by any proofs. To de-
scribe the second style of sculpture among the
Etrurians is almost the same as to describe the
style of Michael Angelo and his numerous imi-
tators. The joints are strongly marked, the
muscles raised, the bones distinguishable ; but
the whole mien harsh. In designing the bone
of the leg, and the separation of the muscles o?
the calf, there is an elevation and strength above
life. The statues of the gods are designed with
more delicacy. In forming them, the artists
were anxious to show that they could exercise
their power without that violent distension of
the muscles which is necessary in the exertions
of beings merely human; but in general their
attitudes are unnatural, and the actions strained.
If a statue, for instance, hold any thing with its
fore-fingers, the rest are stretched out in a stiff
position.
SECT. IV.— OF THE GRECIAN SCULPTURE.
According to ancient history, the Greeks did
not emerge from the savage state till a long time
after the Egyptians, Chaldeans, and Indians, had
arrived at a considerable degree of civilisation.
The original rude inhabitants of Greece were
civilised by colonies which arrived among them
at different times from Egypt and Phoenicia.
These brought along with them the religion, the
letters, and the arts of their parent countries ;
and, if sculpture had its origin from the worship
of idols, there is reason to believe that it was
one of the arts which were thus imported ; for
that the gods of Greece were of Egyptian and
Phoenician extraction is a fact incontrovertible :
see MYSTERIES, MYTHOLOGY, PHILOSOPHY, and
TITAN. The original statues of the gods, how-
ever, were very rude. The earliest objects of
idolatrous worship have every where been the
heavenly bodies ; and the symbols consecrated
to them were generally pillars of a conical or
pyramidal figure. It was not till hero-worship
was engrafted on the planetary, that the sculptor
thought of giving to the sacred statue any part
of the human form (see POLYTHEISM) ; and it
appears to have been about the era of this revo-
lution in idolatry, that the art of sculpture was
introduced among the Greeks. The first repre-
sentations of their gods were round stones placed
upon cubes or pillars ; and these stones they
afterwards formed roughly, so as to give them
something of the appearance of a head. Agree-
able to this description was a Jupiter which
Pausanias saw in Tegeum, in Arcadia. Thc»u
representations were called Hermes ; not that
they represented Mercury, Lut from the word
henna, which signified a rough stone. It is t!<<:
SCULPTURE.
6H1
name which Homer gives to the stones which
were used to fix vessels to the shore. Pausanias
saw at Pheres thirty deities made of unformed
blocks or cubical stones. The Lacedemonians
represented Castor and Pollux by two parallel
posts ; and a transverse beam was added to ex-
press their mutual affection. If the Greeks de-
rived from foreign nations the rudiments of the
arts, it must redound much to their honor that
in a few centuries they carried them to such won-
derful perfection as entirely to eclipse the fame
of their masters. It is by tracing the progress
of sculpture among them that we are to study
the history of this art ; and we shall see its
origin and successive improvements correspond
with nature, which always operates slowly and
gradually.
The great superiority of the Greeks in the art
of sculpture may be ascribed to a variety of
(Muses. The influence of climate over the hu-
man body is so striking that it must have fixed
tlie attention of every thinking man who has re-
llected on the subject. The violent heats of the
torrid zone, and the excessive cold of the polar
regions, are unfavorable to beauty. It is only
in the mild climates of the temperate regions
that it appears in its most attractive charms.
Perhaps no country in the world enjoys a more
serene air, less tainted with mists and vapors, or
possesses in a higher degree that mild and genial
warmth which can unfold and expand the human
body into all the symmetry of muscular strength,
and all the delicacies of female beauty in greater
perfection, than the happy climate of Greece;
nnd never was there any people that had a greater
taste for beauty, or were more anxious to im-
prove it. Of the four wishes of Simonides, the
second was to have a handsome figure. The love
of beauty was so great among the Lacedemonian
women, that they kept in their chambers the
statues of Nereus, of Narcissus, of Ilyacinthus,
and of Castor and Pollux ; hoping that by often
contemplating them they might have beautiful
children.
There were a variety of circumstances in the
noble and virtuous freedom of the Grecian man-
ners that rendered these models of beauty pecu-
liarly subservient to the cultivation of the fine
arts. There were no tyrannical laws, as among
the Egyptians, to check their progress. They
had the best opportunities to study them in the
public places, where the youth, who needed no
other veil than chastity and purity of manners,
performed their various exercises quite naked.
They had the strongest motives to cultivate sculp-
ture, for a statue was the highest honor which
public merit could attain. It was an honor am-
bitiously sought, and granted only to those who
had distinguished themselves in the eyes of their
fellow citizens. As the Greeks preferred natural
qualities to acquired accomplishments, they de-
creed the first rewards to those who excelled in
agility and strength of body. Statues were often
raised to wrestlers. Even the most eminent men
of Greece, in their youth, sought renown in
gymnastic exercises. Chrysippus and Cleanthes
distinguished themselves in the public games be-
fore they were known as philosophers. Plato
appeared as a wrestler both at the Isthmian and
Pythian games ; and Pythagoras carried off the
prize at Elis. See PYTHAGORAS. The passion
by which they were inspired was the ambition of
having their statues erected in the most sacred
place of Greece, to be seen and admired by the
whole people. The number of statues erected
on different occasions was immense; of course
the number of artists must have been great, their
emulation ardent, and their progress rapid. As
most of their statues were decreed for those who
vanquished in the public games, the artists had
the opportunity of seeing excellent models; for
those who surpassed in running;, boxing, an'd
wrestling, must in general have been well formed,
yet would exhibit different kinds of beauty.
The high estimation in which sculptors were
held was very favorable to their art. -Socrates
declared the artists the only wise men. An artist
could be a legislator, a commander of armies,
and might hope to have his statue placed beside
those of Miltiades and Themistocles, or of those
of the gods themselves. Besides, the honor and
success of an artist did not depend on the ca-
price of pride or of ignorance. The produc-
tions of art were estimated and rewarded by the
greatest sages in the general assembly of Greece,
and the sculptor who had executed his work with
ability and taste was confident of obtaining im-
mortality.
It was the opinion of Winkelman, that liberty
was highly favorable to this art; but, though
liberty is absolutely necessary to the advance-
ment of science, it may be doubted whether the
fine arts owe their improvement to it. Sculpture
flourished most, in Greece, when Pericles exer-
cised the power of a king; and in the reign of
Alexander, when Greece was conquered. It
attained no perfection in Rome till Augustus had
enslaved the Romans. It revived in Italy under
the patronage of the family of Medici, and in
France under the despotic rule of Louis XIV.
It is the love of beauty, luxury, wealth, or the
patronage of a powerful individual, that promotes
the progress of this art.
It will now be proper to give a particular ac-
count of the ideas which the Greeks entertained
concerning the standard of beauty in the differ-
ent parts of the human body. And with respect
to the head, the profile which they chiefly ad-
mired is peculiar to dignified beauty. It con-
sists in a line almost straight, or marked by such
slight and gentle inflections as are scarcely dis-
tinguishable from a straight line. In the figures
of women and young persons the forehead and
nose form a line approaching to a perpendicular.
Ancient writers, as well as artists, assure us
that the Greeks reckoned a small forehead a
mark of beauty, and a high forehead a deformity.
From the same idea, the Circassians wore their
hair hanging down over their foreheads almost to
their eyebrows. To give an oval form to the
countenance, it is necessary that the hair should
cover the forehead, and thus make a curve about
the temples; otherwise the face, -which termi-
nates in an oval form in the inferior part, will be
angular in the higher part, and the proportion
will be destroyed. This rounding of the fore-
head may be seen in all handsome persons, in all
the heads of ideal beauty in ancient statues, and
682
SCULPTURE.
especially in those of youth. It has been over-
looked, however, by modern statuaries. Bernini,
who modelled a statue of Louis XIV. in his youth,
turned back the hair from the forehead.
It is generally agreed that large eyes are beau-
tiful ; but their size is of less importance in
sculpture than their form, and the manner in
which they are enchased. In ideal beauty, the
eyes are always sunk deeper than they are in na-
ture, and consequently the eyebrows have a
reater projection. But in large statues, placed
-»t a certain distance, the eyes, which are of the
same color with the rest of the head, would have
little effect if they were not sunk. By deepen-
ing the cavity of the eye, the statuary increases
the light and shade, and thus gives the head
more life and expression. The same practice is
used in small statues. The eye is a characteristic
feature in the heads of the different deities. In
the statues of Apollo, Jupiter, and Juno, the
eye is large and round. In those of Pallas they
are also large; but, by lowering the eyelids, the
virgin air and expression of modesty are deli-
cately marked. Venus has small eyes, and the
lower eyelid being raised a little, gives them a
languishing look and an enchanting sweetness.
It is only necessary to see the Venus de Medicis
to be convinced that large eyes are not essential
to beauty, especially if we compare her small
eyes with those which resemble them in nature.
The beauty of the eyebrows consists in the fine-
ness of the hair, and in the sharpness of the bone
which covers them ; and masters of the art con-
sidered the joining of the eyebrows as a defor-
mity, though it is sometimes to be met with in
ancient statues.
The beauty of the mouth is peculiarly neces-
sary to constitute a fine face. The lower lip must
be fuller than the upper, in order to give an ele-
gant rounding to the chin. The teeth seldom ap-
pear, except in laughing satyrs. In human figures
the lips are generally close, and a little opened in
the figures of the gods. The lips of Venus are
half open.
In figures of ideal beauty, the Grecian artists
never interrupted the rounding of the chin by
introducing a dimple ; for this they considered
not as a mark of beauty, and only to be admitted
to distinguish individuals. The dimple indeed
appears in some ancient statues, but antiquaries
suspect it to be the work of a modern hand. It is
suspected, also, that the dimple which is some-
times found on the cheeks of ancient statues is a
modern innovation.
No part of the head was executed by the an-
cients with more care than the ears, though little
attention has been given to them by modern
artists. This character is so decisive, that if we
observe in any statue that the ears are not highly
finished, but only roughly marked, we may con-
clude with certainty that we are examining a
modern production. The ancients were very
attentive to copy the precise form of the ear in
taking likenesses. Thus, where we meet with a
head, the ears of which have a very large interior
opening, we know it to be the head of Marcus
Aurelius.
The manner in which the ancient artists
formed the hair also enables us to distinguish
their works from those of the moderns. On
hard and coarse stones the hair was short, and
appeared as if it had been combed with a wide
comb; for that kind of stone was difficult to
work, and could not without immense labor be
formed into curled and flowing hair. But the
figures executed in marble in the most flourish-
ing period of the art have the hair curled and
flowing; at least where the head was not in-
tended to be an exact resemblance, for then the
artist conformed to his model. In the heads of
women, the hair was thrown back, and tied be-
hind in a waving manner, leaving considerable
intervals ; which gives the agreeable variety of
light and shade, and produces the effects of the
claro-obscuro. The hair of the Amazons is dis-
posed in this manner. Apollo and Bacchus
have their hair falling down their shoulders ;
and young persons, till they arrived at manhood,
wore their hair long. The color of the hair
which was reckoned most beautiful was fair ;
and this they gave without distinction to the most
beautiful of their gods, Apollo and Bacchus, and
likewise to their most illustrious heroes.
Although the ravages of time have preserved
but few of the hands or feet of ancient statues,
it is evident from what remains how anxious the
Grecian artists were to give every perfection to
these parts. The hands of young persons were
moderately plump, with little cavities or dimples
at the joints of the fingers. The fingers tapered
very gently from the root to the point, like well
proportioned columns, and the joints were
scarcely perceptible. The terminating joint was
not bent, as it commonly appears in modern
statues.
In the figures of young men the joints of the
knee are faintly marked. The knee unites the
leg to the thigh without making any remarkable
projections or cavities. The most beautiful legs,
and best turned knees, according to Winkelman,
are preserved in the Apollo Saurocthones, in the
Villa Borghese; in the Apollo which has a swan
at its feet ; and in the Bacchus of Villa Medicis.
The same able connoisseur remarks, it is rare to
meet with beautiful knees in young persons, or
in the elegant representations of art. As the an-
cients did not cover the feet as we do, they gave
to them the most beautiful turning, and studied
the form of them with the most scrupulous atten-
tion.
The breasts of men were large and elevated.
The breasts of women did not possess much am-
plitude. The figures of the deities have always
the breasts of a virgin, the beauty of which the
ancients made to consist in a gentle elevation.
So anxious were the women to resemble this
standard, that they used several arts to restrain
the growth of their breasts. The breasts of the
nymphs and goddesses were never represented
swelling, because that is peculiar to those women
who suckle. The paps of Venus contract and
end in a point, this being considered as an essen-
tial characteristic of perfect beauty. Some of the
moderns have transgressed these rules, and have
fallen into great improprieties.
The lower parts of the body in the statues of
men were formed like that of the living body after
a profound sleep and a good digestion. The
SCULPT U R E.
683
navel was considerably sunk, especially in female
statues.
As beauty never appears in equal perfection in
every part of the same individual, perfect or ideal
beauty can only be produced by selecting the
most beautiful parts from different models ; but
this must be done with such judgment and care
that these detached beauties when united may
form the most exact symmetry. Yet the ancients
sometimes confined themselves to one individual,
even in the most flourishing age. Theodorus,
whom Socrates and his disciples visited, served
as a model to the artists of his time. Phryne
also appears to have been a model to the painters
and sculptors. But Socrates, in his conversation
with Parrhasius, says that, when a perfect beauty
was to be produced, the artists joined together
the most striking beauties which could be collected
from the finest figures. We know that Zeuxis,
when he was going to paint Helen, united in one
pictuie all the beauties of the most handsome
women of Crotona.
SECT. V. — OF THE DRAPERY OF GRECIAN STA-
TUES.
The Grecian sculptors, who represented with
such success the most perfect beauty of the hu-
man form, were not regardless of the drapery of
their statues. They clothed their figures in the
most proper stuff, which they wrought into that
shape which was best calculated to give effect to
their design.
The vestments of women in Greece generally
consisted of linen cloth, or some other light stuff,
and in latter times of silk, and sometimes of
woollen cloth They had also garments em-
broidered with gold. In the works of sculpture,
as well as in those of painting, one may distin-
guish the linen by its transparency and small
uuited folds. The other light stuffs which were
worn by the women were generally of cotton pro-
duced in the isle of Cos ; and these the art of sta-
tuary was able to distinguish from the linen vest-
ments. The cotton cloth was sometimes striped,
and sometimes embellished with a profusion of
flowers. Silk was also employed ; but whether
it was known in Greece before the time of the
Roman emperors, cannot easily be determined.
In paintings it is distinguishable by changing its
color in different lights to red, violet, and sky-
blue. There were two sorts of purple ; that which
the Greeks call the color of the sea, and Tyrian
purple, which resembled lac. Woollen garments
are easily known by the amplitude of their folds.
Besides these, cloth of gold sometimes composed
their drapery ; but it was not like the modern
fabric, consisting of a thread of gold or of silver
spun with a thread of silk ; it was composed of
gold or silver alone without any mixture.
The vestments of the Greeks, which deserve
particular attention, are the tunic, the robe, and
the mantle.
The tunic was that part of the dress which
was next to the body. It may be seen in sleep-
ing figures, or in those in dishabille; as in the
Flora Farnese.and in the statues of the Amazons
in the capitol. The youngest of the daughters
of Niobe, who throws herself at her mother's
side, is clothed only with a tunic. It was of
linen, or some other light stuff, without sleeves,
fixed to the shoulders by a button, so as to cover
the whole breast. None but the tunics of the
goddess Ceres and comedians have long straight
sleeves.
The robes of women commonly consisted of
two long pieces of woollen cloth, without any
particular form, attached to the shoulders by a
great many buttons, and sometimes by a clasp.
They had straight sleeves which came down to
the wrists. The young girls, as well as the
women, fastened their robe to their side by a
cincture, in the same way as the high priest of
the Jews fastened his, as it is still done in many
parts of Greece. The cincture formed on the
side a knot of ribbons, sometimes resembling a
rose in shape, which has been particularly re-
marked in the two beautiful daughters of Niobe.
In the younger of these the cincture is seen
passing over the shoulders and the back. Venus
has two cinctures, the one passing over the
shoulder, and the other surrounding the waist.
The latter is called cestus by the poets.
The mantle was called peplon by the Greeks,
which signifies properly the mantle of Pallas.
The name was afterwards applied to the mantles
of the other gods, as well as to those of men.
This part of the dress was not square, as some
have imagined, but of a roundish form. The an-
cients indeed speak in general of square mantles,
but they received this shape from four tassels
which were affixed to them ; two of these were
visible, and two were concealed under the
mantle. The mantle was brought under the right
arm, and over the left shoulder ; sometimes it was
attached to the shoulder by two buttons, as may
be seen in the beautiful statue of Leucothoe at
Villa Albani.
The color of vestments peculiar to certain sta-
tues is too curious to be omitted. To begin
with the figures of the gods : — The drapery of
Jupiter was red, that of Neptune is supposed by
Winkelman to have been sea-green. The same
color also belonged to the Nereids and Nymphs.
The mantle of Apollo was blue, or violet. Bac-
chus was dressed in white. Martianus Capella
assigns green to Cybele. Juno's vestments were
sky-blue, but she sometimes had a white veil.
Pallas was robed in a flame-colored mantle. In
a painting of Herculaneum, Venus is in flowing
drapery of a golden yellow. Kings were arrayed
in purple ; priests in white ; and conquerors
sometimes in sea-green.
With respect to the head, women generally
wore no covering but their hair; when they
wished to cover their head, they used the corner
of their mantle. — Sometimes we meet with veils
of a fine transparent texture. Old women wore
a kind of bonnet upon their head, an example of
which may be seen in a statue in the capitol,
called the Praefica ; but Winkelman thinks it is
a statue of Hecuba.
The covering of the feet consisted of shoes or
sandals. The sandals were generally an inch
thick, and composed of more than one sole of
cork. Those of Pallas in Villa Albani have two
soles, and other statues had no fewer than five.
(384
SCULPTURE.
SECT. VI. — OF TUE STYLES OF GRECIAN SCULP-
TURE.
Winkelman has assigned four different styles
to this art. The ancient style, which continued
until the time of Phidias ; the grand style, form-
ed by that celebrated statuary ; the beautiful,
introduced by Praxiteles, Apelles, and Lyssip-
pus ; and the imitative style, practised by
those artists who copied the works of the an-
cient masters.
The most authentic monuments of the ancient
style are medals, containing an inscription, which
leads us back to very distant times. The writing
is from right to left, in the Hebrew manner ; a
usage which was abandoned before the time of
Herodotus. The statue of Agamemnon at Elis,
wh'ch was made by Ornatas, has an inscription
from right to left. This artisan flourished fifty
years before Phidias; it is in the intervening pe-
riod therefore between these two artists that we
are to look for the cessation of this practice. The
statues formed in the ancient style were neither
distinguished by beauty of shape nor by propor-
tion, but bore aclose resemblance to those of the
Egyptians and Etrurians ; the eyes were long
and flat ; the section of the mouth not horizontal ;
the chin was pointed ; the curls of the hair were
ranged in little rings, and resembled grains en-
closed in a heap of raisins. What was still
worse, it was impossible by inspecting the head
to distinguish the sex. The characters of this
ancient style were these: the designing was
energetic, but harsh ; it was animated, but with-
out gracefulness ; and the violence of the ex-
pression deprived the whole figure of beauty.
The grand style was brought to perfection by
Phidias, Polycletus, Scopas, Alcamenes, Myron,
and other illustrious artists. Il is probable, from
some passages of ancient writers, that in this
style were preserved some characters of the an-
cient manner, such as the straight lines, the
squares and angles. The ancient masters, such
as Polycletus, being the legislators of propor-
tions, says Winkelman, and of consequence
thinking they had a right to distribute the mea-
sures and dimensions of the parts of the human
body, have undoubtedly sacrificed some degree
of the form of beauty to a grandeur which is
harsh, in comparison of the flowing contours
and graceful forms of their successors. — The
most considerable monuments of the grand style
are the statues of Niobe and her daughters, and
a figure of Pallas, to be seen in Villa Albani ;
which, however, must not be confounded with
the statue which is modelled according to the
first style, and is also found in the same place.
The head possesses all the characters of digni-
fied beauty, at the same time exhibiting the ri-
gidness of the ancient style. The face is defective
in gracefulness ; yet it is evident how easy
it would have been to give the features more
roundness and grace. The figures of Niobe and
her daughters have not, in the opinion of Win-
kelman, that austerity of appearance which
marks the age of the statue of Pallas. They are
characterised by grandeur and simplicity ; so
simple are the forms that they do not appear
to be the tedious productions of art, but to have
been created by an instantaneous effort of nature.
The third style was the graceful or beautiful*
Lysippus was perhaps the artist who introduced
this style. Being more conversant than his pre-
decessors with the sweet, the pure, the flowing,
and the beautiful lines of nature, he avoided
the square forms which the masters of the se-
cond style had too much employed. He was
of opinion that the use of the art was rather
to please than to astonish, and that the aim
of the artist should be to raise admiration by
giving delight. The artists who cultivated this
style did not, ho\vever, neglect to study the sub-
lime works of their predecessors. They knew
that grace is consistent with the most dignified
beauty, and that it possesses charms which must
ever please; they knew also that these charms
are enhanced by dignity. Grace is infused into
all the movements and attitudes of their statues,
and it appears in the delicate turns of the hair,
and even in the adjusting of the drapery. Every
sort of grace was well known to the ancients ;
and great as the ravages of time have been
amongst the works of art, specimens are still
preserved, in which can be distinguished digni-
fied beauty, attractive beauty, and a beauty pecu-
liar to infants. A specimen of dignified beauty
may be seen in the statue of one of the Muses
in the palace of Barberini at Rome ; and in the
garden of the pope, on the Quirinal, is a statue
of another Muse, which affords a fine instance of
attractive beauty. Winkelman says that the
most excellent model of infant beauty which an-
tiquity has transmitted to us is a satyr of a year
old, which is preserved, though a little mutilated,
in Villa Albani.
The great reputation of Praxiteles and Apelles
raised an ardent emulation in their successors,
who, despairing to surpass such illustrious mas-
ters, were satisfied with imitating their works.
But it is well known that a mere imitator is al-
ways inferior to the master whom he attempts to
copy. When no original genius appears, the
art must therefore decline.
SECT. VII. — OF THE MATERIALS OF GRECIAN
STATUES.
Clay was the first material which was employ-
ed in statuary. An instance of this may be seen
in a figure of Alcamenes in bas-relief in Villa
Albani. The ancients used their fingers, and es-
pecially their nails, to render certain parts more
delicate and lively : hence arose the phrase ad
unguein factu? homo, ' an accomplished man.'
It was the opinion of count Caylus that the an-
cients did not use models in forming their sta-
tues. But, to disprove this, it is only necessary
to mention an engraving on a stone in the cabi-
net of Stosch, which represents Prometheus en-
graving the figure of a man, with a plummet in
his hand to measure the proportions of his model.
The ancients as well as the moderns made works
in plaster; but no specimens remain except
some figures in bas-relief, of which the most
beautiful were found at Baia.
The works made of ivory and silver were ge-
nerally of a small size. Sometimes, however,
statues of a prodigious size were formed of gold
and ivory. The colossal Minerva of Phidias,
which was composed of these materials, was
SCULPTURE.
685
twenty-six cubits high. It is indeed scarcely
possible to believe that statues of such a size
could entirely consist of gold and ivory. The
quantity of ivory necessary to a colossal statue
is beyond conception. M. de Pauw calculates
that the statue of Jupiter Olympus, which was
fifty-four feet high, would consume the teeth of
300 elephants.
The Greeki generally hewed their marble sta-
tues out of one block, though they after worked
the heads separately, and sometimes the arms.
The heads of the famous group Niobe and her
daughters have been adapted to their bodies after
being separately finished. It is proved by a
large figure representing a river, which is preserv-
ed in Villa Albani, that the ancients first hewed
their statues roughly, before they attempted to
finish any part. When the statue had received
its perfect figure, they next proceeded to polish
it with pumice-stone, and again carefully re-
touched every part with the chisel.
The ancients, when they employed porphyry,
usually made the head and extremities of marble.
It is true that at Venice there are four figures
entirely composed of porphyry; but these are
the productions of the Greeks of the middle
age. They also toiade statues of basaltes and
alabaster.
SECT. VIII. — OF EXPRESSION, GESIURF, AND
ATTITUDE.
Without expression, gesture, and attitude, no
figure can be beautiful, because in these the
graces always reside. It was for this reason that
the graces are always represented as the compa-
nions of Venus.
The expression of tranquillity was frequent in
Grecian statues, because, according to Plato,
that was considered as the middle state of the
soul between pleasure and pain. Experience,
too, shows that in general the most engaging
manner. Without a sedate tranquillity, digni-
fied beauty could not exist. It is in this tran-
quillity, therefore, that we must look for the
complete display of genius.
The most elevated species of tranquillity and
repose was studied in the figures of the gods.
The father of the gods, and even inferior divini-
ties, are represented without emotion or resent-
ment. Jupiter is not always exhibited in this
tranquil state. In a bas-relief belonging to the
marquis Rondini, he appears seated on an arm-
chair with a melancholy aspect. The Apollo of
the Vatican represents the god in a fit of rage
against the serpent Python, which he kills at a
blow. The artist, adopting the opinion of the
poets, has made the nose the seat of anger, and
the lips the seat of disdain.
To express the action of a hero, the Grecian
sculptors delineated the countenance of a noble
virtuous character repressing his groans, and al-
lowing no expression of pain to appear. In de-
scribing the action of a hero, the poet has much
more liberty than the artist. The poet can paint
them such as they were before men were taught
to subdue their passions by the restraints of law,
or the refined customs of social life. But the
artist, obliged to select the most beautiful forms,
is reduced to the necessity of giving such an ex-
pression of the passions as may not shock our
feelings, and disgust us with his production.
The truth of these remarks will be acknowledged
by those who have seen two of the most beauti-
ful monuments of antiquity ; one of which re-
presents the fear of death, the other the most
violent pains and Sufferings. The daughters of
Niobe, against whom Diana has discharged her
fatal arrows, are exhibited in that state of stupe-
faction which we imagine must take place when
the certain prospect of death deprives the soul of
all sensibility. The fable presents us an image
of that stupor which Eschylus describes as seiz-
ing Niobe when they vvere transformed into a
rock. The other monument referred to is the
image of Laocoon, which exhibits the most ago-
nising pain that can affect the muscles, the
nerves, and the veins. The sufferings of the
body and the elevation of the soul are expressed
in every member with equal energy, and form
the most sublime contrast imaginable. Laocoon
appears to suffer with such fortitude, that, whilst
his lamentable situation pierces the heart, the
whole figure fills us with ambitious desire of
imitating his constancy and magnanimity in the
pains and sufferings that may fall to our lot.
Philoctetes is introduced by the poets, shed-
ding tears, uttering complaints, and rending the
air with his groans and cries; but the artist ex-
hibits him silent, and bearing his pains with
dignity. The Ajax of the celebrated painter
Timomachus is not drawn in the act of destroy-
ing the sheep which he took for the Grecian
chiefs, but in the moments of reflection which
succeeded that frenzy. So far did the Greeks
carry their love of calmness and slow movements,
that they thought a quick step always announced
rusticity of manners. Demosthenes reproaches
Nicobulus for this very thing ; and from the
v»ords he makes use of it appears, that to speak
•with insolence and to walk hastily were reckon-
ed synonymous.
In the figures of women, the artists have con-
formed to the principle observed in all the an-
cient tragedies and recommended by Aristotle,
never to make women show too much intrepi-
dity or excessive cruelty. Conformable to this
maxim, Clytemnestra is represented at a little
distance from the fatal spot, watching the mur-
derer, but without taking any part with him. In
a painting of Timomachus representing Medea
and her children, when Medea lifts up the dagger
they smile in her face, and her fury is immediately
melted into compassion for the innocent victims.
In another representation of the same subject,
Medea appears hesitating and indecisive. Guid-
ed by the same maxims, the artists of most re-
fined taste were careful to avoid all deformity,
choosing rather to recede from truth than from
their accustomed respect for beauty, as may be
seen in several figures of Hecuba. Sometimes,
however, she appears in the decrepitude of age,
her face furrowed with wrinkles, and her breasts
hanging down.
Illustrious men, and those invested with offices
of dignity, are represented with a noble assurance
and firm aspect. The statues of the Roman empe-
rors resemble those of heroes, and are far removed
from every species of flattery, in the gesture,
686
SCULPTURE.
in the attitude, and action. They never appear
with haughty looks, or with the splendor of roy-
alty ; no figure is ever seen presenting any thing
to them with bended knee, except captives ; and
none addresses them with an inclination of the
head. In modern works too little attention has
been paid to the ancient costume. Winkelman
mentions a bas-relief, which was lately executed
at Rome for the fountain of Trevi, representing
an architect in the act of presenting the plan of
an aqueduct to Marcus Agrippa. The modern
sculptor, not content with giving a long beard to
that illustrious Roman, contrary to all the ancient
marble statues as well as medals which remain,
exhibits the architect on his knees.
In general it was an established principle to
banish all violent passions from public monu-
ments. This will serve as a decisive mark to dis-
tinguish the true antique from supposititious
works. A medal has been found exhibiting
two Assyrians, a man and woman tearing their
hair, with this inscription, ASSYRIA. ET. PALES-
TINA. IN. POTEST. P. R. REDAC. S. C. The
forgery of this medal is manifest from the word
Palestina, which is not to be found in any ancient
Roman medal with a Latin inscription. Besides
the violent action of tearing the hair does not
suit any symbolical figure. This extravagant
style, which was called by the ancients parenthyr-
sis, has been imitated by most of the modern
artists. Their figures resemble comedians on the
ancient theatres, who, in order to suit the distant
spectators, put on painted masks, employed ex-
aggerated gestures, and far overleaped the bounds
of nature. This style has been reduced into a
theory in a treatise on the passions composed by
Le Brun. The designs which accompany that
work exhibit the passions in the very highest de-
gree, approaching even to frenzy : but these are
calculated to vitiate the taste, especially of the
young ; for the ardor of youth prompts them
rather to seize the extremity than the middle;
and it will be difficult for that artist who has
formed his taste from such empassioned models
ever to acquire that noble simplicity and sedate
grandeur which distinguished the works of ancient
taste.
SECT. IX. — OF PROPORTION.
Proportion is the basis of beauty, and there
can be no beauty without it ; on the contrary,
proportion may exist where there is little beauty.
Experience every day teaches us that knowledge
is distinct from taste ; and proportion, therefore,
which is founded on knowledge, may be strictly
observed in any figure, and yet the figure have
no pretensions to beauty. The ancients, consi-
dering ideal beauty as the most perfect, have
frequently employed it in preference to the beauty
of nature.
The body consists of three parts as well as the
members. The three parts of the body are the
trunk, the thighs, and the legs. The inferior
parts of the body are, the thighs, the legs, and the
feet. The arms also consist of three parts. These
three parts must bear a certain proportion to the
whole as well as to one another. In a well-
formed man the head and body must be propor-
tioned to the thighs, the legs, and the feet, in the
same manner as the thighs are proportioned to
the legs and the feet, and the arms to the hands.
The face also consists of three parts, that is, three
times the length of the nose ; but the head is not
four times the length of the nose, as some writers
have asserted. From the place where the hair
begins to the crown of the head are only three-
fourths of the length of the nose, or that part is
to the nose as nine to twelve.
It is propable that the Grecian, as well as the
Egyptian artists, have determined the great and
small proportions by fixed rules ; that they have
established a positive measure for the dimensions
of length, breadth, and circumference. This
supposition alone can enable us to account for
the great conformity which we meet with in an-
cient statues. Winkelman thinks that the foot
was the measure which the ancients used in all
their great dimensions, and that it was by the
length of it that they regulated the measure of
their figures by giving to them six times that
length. This in fact is the length which Vitru-
vius assigns, Pes vero altitudinis corporis sextse,
1. 3, cap. 1. That celebrated antiquary thinks
the foot is a more determinate measure than the
head or the face, the parts from which modern
painters and sculptors too often take their pro-
portions. This proportion of the foot to the body,
which has appeared strange and incomprehensible
to the learned Huetius, and has been entirely re-
jected by Perrault, is, however, founded upon
experience. After measuring with great care a
vast number of figures, Winkelman found this
proportion observed not only in Egyptian statues,
but also in those of Greece. This fact may be
determined by an inspection of those statues the
feet of which are perfect. One may be fully con-
vinced of it by examining some divine figures, in
which the artists have made some parts beyond
their natural dimensions. In the Apollo Belvi-
dere, which is a little more than seven heads
high, the foot is three Roman inches longer than
the head. The head of the Venus de Medicis is
very small, and the height of the statue is sevei.
heads and a half ; the foot is three inches and a
half longer than the head, or precisely the sixth
part of the length of the whole statue.
SECT. X. — OF THE PRACTICE OF SCULPTURE.
We have been thus minute in our account of
the Grecian sculpture because it is the opinion
of the ablest critics that modern artists have been
more or less eminent as they have studied witli
the greater or less attention the models left us
by that ingenious people ; Winkelraan goes so
far as to contend that the most finished works
of the Grecian masters ought to be studied in
preference even to the works of nature. This
appears to be paradoxical ; but the reason as-
signed by the abbe" for his opinion is that the
fairest lines of beauty are more easily discovered,
and make a more striking and powerful impres-
sion, by their reunion in these sublime copies,
than when they are scattered far and wide in the
original. Allowing, therefore, the study of nature
the high degree of merit it so justly claims, it
must nevertheless be granted that it leads to true
beauty by a much more tedious, laborious, and
difficult path than the study of the antique, which
presents immediately to the artist's view the ob-
SCULPTURE.
687
ject of his researches, and comoines in a clear
and strong point of light the various rays of
beauty that are dispersed through the wide do-
main of nature.
As soon as the artist has laid this excellent
foundation, acquired an intimate degree of fa-
miliarity with the beauties of the Grecian sta-
tues, and formed his taste after the admirable
models they exhibit, he may then proceed with
advantage and assurance to the imitation of
nature. The ideas he has already formed of the
perfection of nature, by observing her dispersed
beauties combined and collected in the compo-
sitions of the ancient artists, will enable him to
acquire with facility and to employ with advan~
tage the detached and partial ideas of beauty
which will be exhibited to his view in a survey
of nature in her actual state. When he discovers
these partial beauties, he will be capable of com-
bining them with those perfect forms of beauty
with which he is already acquainted. In a word,
by having always present to his mind the noble
models already mentioned, he will be in rome
measure his own oracle, and will draw rules from
his own mind.
There are, however, two ways of imitating na-
ture. In the one, a single object occupies the
artist, who endeavours to represent it with pre-
cision arid truth ; in the other, certain lines and
features are taken from a variety of objects, and
combined and blended into one regular whole.
All kinds of copies belong to the first kind of
imitation; and productions of this kind must be
executed necessarily in the Dutch manner, that
is to say, with high finishing, and little or no
invention. But the second kind of imitation
leads directly to the investigation and discovery
of true beauty, of that beauty whose idea is con-
nate with the human mind, and is only to be
found there in its highest perfection. This is
the kind of imitation in which the Greeks ex-
celled, and in which men of genius excite the
young artists to excel after their example, viz. by
studying nature as they did.
After having studied in the productions of the
Grecian masters their choice and expression of
select nature, their sublime and graceful contours,
their noble draperies, together with that sedate
grandeur and admirable simplicity that consti-
tute their chief merit, the curious artist will
do well to study the manual and mechanical
part of their operations, as this is absolutely ne-
cessary to the successful imitation of their excel-
lent manner.
The ancients almost always formed their first
models in wax : to this modern artists have sub-
stituted clay, or some such composition : they
prefer clay before wax in the carnations, on ac-
count of the yielding nature of the latter, and
its sticking in some measure to every thing it
vouches. We must not, however, imagine hence,
that the method of forming models of wet clay
was either unknown or neglected among the
Greeks; on the contrary, it was in Greece that
models of this kind were invented. Their author
was Dibutades of Sicyon : and it is well known
that Arcesilas, the friend of Lucullus, obtained
a higher degree of reputation by his clay models
than by all his other productions. Indeed, if clay
could be made to preserve its original moisture
it would undoubtedly be the fittest substance for
the models of the sculptor ; but when it is placed
either in the fire, or left to dry imperceptibly in
the air, its solid parts grow more compact, and
the figure, losing thus a part of its dimensions,
is necessarily reduced to a smaller volume. This
diminution would be of no consequence, did it
equally affect the whole figure, so as to preserve
its proportions entire. But this is not the case;
for the smaller parts of the figure dry sooner than
the larger ; and thus, losing more of their di-
mensions in the same space of time than the
latter do, the symmetry and proportions of the
figure inevitably suffer. This inconveniency does
not take place in those models that are made in
wax. It is indeed extremely difficult, in the or-
dinary method of working the wax, to give it
that degree of smoothness that is necessary to
represent the softness of the carnations or fleshy
parts of the body. This inconvenience may,
however, be remedied, by forming the model
first in clay, then moulding it in plaster, and
lastly, casting it in wax. And, indeed, clay is
seldom used but as a mould in which to cast a
figure of plaster, stucco, or wax, to serve hence-
forth for a model by which the measures and pro-
portions of the statue are to be adjusted. In
making waxen models, it is common to put half
a pound of colophony to a pound of wax ; and
some add turpentine, melting the whole with oil
of olives.
So much for the first or preparatory steps in this
procedure. It remains to consider the manner
of working the marble after the model so pre-
pared; and the method here followed by the
Greeks seems to have been extremely different
from that which is generally observed by modern
artists. In the ancient statues we find the most
striking proofs of the freedom and boldness that
accompanied each stroke of the chisel, and which
resulted from the artist's being perfectly sure of
the accuracy of his idea, and the precision and
steadiness of his hand : the most minute parts
of the figure carry these marks of assurance and
freedom; no indication of timorousness or diffi-
dence appear ; nothing that can induce us to
fancy that the artist had occasion to correct any
of his strokes. It is difficult to find, even in the
second-rate productions of the Grecian artists,
any mark of a false stroke or a random touch.
The firmness and precision of the Grecian chisel
were certainly derived from a more determined
and perfect set of rules than those which are ob-
served in modern times.
The method generally observed by the modern
sculptor is as follows : first, out of a great block
of marble he saws another of the size required,
which is performed with a smooth steel saw,
without teeth, casting water and sand thereon
from time to time; then he fashions it, by taking
off what is surperfluous with a steel point and a
heavy hammer of soft iron ; after this, bringing
it near the measure required, he reduces it still
nearer with another finer point ; he then uses a
flat cutting instrument, having notches in its
edge ; and then a chisel, to take off the scratches
which the former has left; till at length, taking
ra^ps of different degrees of fineness, by de-
688
SCULPTURE.
grees he brings his work into a condition for
polishing.
After this, having studied his model with all
possible attention, he draws upon this model
horizontal and perpendicular lines intersecting
each other at right angles. He then copies these
lines upon his marble, as the painter makes use
of such transversal lines to copy a picture, or to
reduce it to a smaller size. These transversal
lines or squares, drawn in an equal number upon
the marble and upon the model, in a manner
proportioned to their respective dimensions, ex-
hibit accurate measures of the surfaces upon
which the artist is to work ; but cannot deter-
mine, with equal precision, the depths that are
proportioned to these surfaces. — The sculptor, in-
deed, may determine these depths by observing
the relation they bear to his model ; but, as his
eye is the only guide he has to follow in this
estimate, he is always more or less exposed to
error, or at least to doubt ; he is never sure that
the cavities made by his chisel are exact; a de-
gree of uncertainty accompanies each stroke ; nor
can he be assured that it has carried away neither
too much nor too little of his marble. It is
equally difficult to determine, by such lines as
have already been mentioned, the external and
internal contours of the fiacres, or to transfer
them from the model to the marble. By the
internal contour is understood that which is
described by the parts which approach towards
the centre, and which are not marked in a striking
manner.
In a complicated and laborious work, which
an artist cannot execute without assistance, he
is often obliged to make use of foreign hands,
that have not the talents or dexterity that are ne-
cessary to finish his plan. A single stroke of
the chisel that goes too deep is a defect not to
be repaired ; and such a stroke may easily hap-
pen, where the depths are so imperfectly deter-
mined. Defects of this kind are inevitable, if
the sculptor, in chipping his marble, begins by
forming the depths that are requisite in the figure
he designs to represent. Nothing is more liable
to error than this manner of proceeding. The
cautious artist ought, on the contrary, to form
these depths gradually, by little and little, with
the utmost circumspection and care ; and the
determining of them with precision ought to be
considered as the last part of his work, and as
the finishing touches of the chisel.
The various inconveniences attending this me-
thod determined several eminent artists to look
out for one that would be liable to less uncer-
tainty, and productive of fewer errors. The
French academy of painting at Rome hit upon a
method of copying the ancient statues, which
some sculptors have employed with success even
in the figures which they finished after models
in clay or wax. This method is as follows : — The
statue that is to be copied is enclosed in a frame
that fits it exactly. The upper part of this frame
is divided into a certain number of equal parts,
and to each of these parts a thread is fixed with
a piece of lead at the end of it. These threads,
which hang freely, show what parts of the statue
are most removed from the centre with much
more perspicuity and precision than the lines
which are drawn upon its surface, and which
pass equally over the higher and hollow parts of
the block : they also give the artist a tolerable
rule to measure the more striking variations of
height and depth, and thus render him more bold
and determined in the execution of his plan.
But even this method is not without its de-
fects : for as it is impossible, by the means of a
straight line, to determine with precision the
procedure of a curre, the artist has, in this me-
thod, no certain rule to guide him in his con-
tours ; and as often as the line which he is to
describe deviates from the direction of the plumb
line, which is his main guide, he must neces-
sarily find himself at a loss, and be obliged to
have recourse to conjecture.
It is also evident that this method affords no
certain rule to determine exactly the proportion
which the various purts of the figure ought to
bear to each oilier, considered in their mutual
relation and connexion. The artist, indeed,
endeavours to supply this defect by intersecting
the plumb-lines by horizontal ones. This re-
course has, nevertheless, its inconveniences,
since the squares formed by transversal lines, that
are at a distance from the figure (though they be
exactly equal), yet represent the parts of the
figure as greater or smaller, according as they
are more or less removed from our position or
point of view. But, notwithstanding these in-
conveniences, the matter now under considera-
tion is certainly the best that has hitherto been
employed : it is more practicable and sure than
any other we know, though it appears, from the
remarks we have now been making, that it does
not exhibit a sure and universal criterion to a
sculptor who executes after a model.
To polish the statue, or make the parts of it
smooth and sleek, they use pumice-stone and
smelt, then tripoli; and, when a still greater
lustre is required, they use burnt straw. For
the casting of statues, see FOCSDKY
SECT. XI. — OF THE MODERN HISTORY AND
STATE OF THE ART.
The art of sculpture (which never found any
very distinguished followers among the Romans)
fell into complete disuse in the middle ages, al-
though ornaments of different kinds, together
with rude images, were profusely lavished on the
various churches. The revival of painting pro-
duced a like resuscitation of the sister art; and,
amongst the earliest professors who strove to res-
cue sculpture from its disrespected state, ap-
peared Donatello, or (to give him his true name)
Donate di Bardi, born at Florence in 1383.
There had, indeed, been some efforts made even
a century before his time towards the same lau-
dable purpose ; and, of those engaged therein,
we may mention the names of Nicholas Pisano,
who was designated by his countrymen Ritrova-
tore del buon gusto nella Scultura, ' Restorer of
fine taste in Sculpture,' and his son, Giovanni
Pisano, who was one of the best artists of his
age, and whose works are numerous at Pisa his
country ; Angelo and Agostino Sanese, who died
about 1340; Andre Ugolino died 1345; Andre
Orcagna, surnamed Bufalmaco, who was an ex-
cellent artist, for his time, and died 1389, as did
also Andre Pisani, the author of several good
SCULPTURE.
689
figures in the church of Santa Maria del Fiore
at Florence. Michelo Aignani died in 1400;
Jac. della Quereia in 1418; N. di Banco in
1421 ; Luca della llobbia in 1442. This man
possessed the means of overlaying his produc-
tions in terra cotta with a fine varnish, which
circumstance caused them to be much sought for
throughout Europe.
Donate was one of the greatest men concerned
in the revival of the art of sculpture. It was one
of his figures, a bronze statue of St. Mark, that
Michel Angiolo is said to have addressed in
these emphatic words — ' Marco, per che non mi
parli ?' 'Mark, why do you not speak to me?'
Another remarkable production of his hand is
the figure of an old man with his head shaved,
to be found at Florence, and called the Tondu
or bald man. Donate died in 1466, at the ad-
vanced age of eighty-three. Amongst his most
favorite pupils we may class : — Bertolde, a
Florentine; Didier da Settignano, a most pro-
mising artist, who died at the early age of twenty-
eight ; Vellano of Padua ; Rossellino ; F. Ca-
milliani, and M. Micheloizi. Simon, brother of
Donatello, also followed his manner. This artist
was summoned to Rome by the pope Eugenius
IV., and made one of the bronze gates of St.
Peter's. Prato, Rimini, Florence, and Arezzo
possess sundry works of Simon. Benedetto di
Majana flourished about 1460. Andre Pisano,
commonly called Pisanello, a pupil of Andre
del Castagno for painting, acquired considerable
reputation in sculpture, mote particularly dis-
tinguishing himself in the execution of medals.
We also find, Giovanni Antonio Amadei, died
1470; A. Rosselino, called Gamberelli, 1490;
G. Vellano, 1493; A. Abondio, 1520; G. F.
Rustichio, 1528; A. Contucci, 1529; A. R.
Briosco, 1532 ; G. Sanctacroce, 1537; A. Bus-
to, called Bambaja, about 1538 ; L. Lotto, called
Lorenzetto, 1541 (according to Vasari, this was
the first restorer of the antique statues) ; B. Ag-
nolo, 1543 ; P. Clemente, 1548; G. Campagna
and L. Leoni, about 1550; S. Mosca, 1554; A.
Begarelli and G. Bandini, called Benedetto,
about 1555, with A. Zotto; D. Cattaneo, A,
Minganti, and F. Mosca, called Moschino, 1560 ;
A. Berrugineta, 1561 ; A. and L. Calamech,
1564. Andre Verochio is particularly known
through the celebrity of his pupils Pierre Peru-
gin and Lionardo da Vinci— of the latter of whom
becoming jealous, he quitted painting altogether
and attached himself wholly to sculpture. Jean
Francois Rustici, born at Florence about 1470,
was an 61eve of Verochio, and afterwards of
Lionardo da Vinci, who taught him the methods
of modelling, of carving in marble, and casting
in bronze. Rustici was invited to Paris by
Francis I., who employed him to work from the
model of a horse twice as large as life, and his
performance when finished was to have borne a
statue of the king himself; but that prince's
death suspSded the undertaking. Rustici died
;.t Paris in 1550.
We now cite the name of Michel Angiolo
Buonarotti, one of the very greatest names of
modern art, whether regarded as sculptor, painter,
or architect. He was born in 1474 and died in
1564, at the advanced age of ninety. The pro-
Voi.. XIX.
ductions of his chisel enriched several of the
Italian cities. The beautiful group of Notre
Dame de Pitie in the basilica of St. Peter's ; the
colossal statue of Julius II. ; the three figures
executed for the tomb of that pontiff, the centre
one of which is the far famed Moses ; the David
combating Goliath ; the victory at Florence : —
these, among many others, bear abundant evi-
dence of the transcendant skill of the artist. The
statue representing Night, upon the tomb of
Julian de Medicis, is considered by Keyssler
worthy of a parallel with the most admired works
of antiquity. Giacomo Tatti, better known
under the title of Sansovino (the place where he
was born), was architect likewise as well as
sculptor. See ARCHITECTURE. This artist made
at Rome (at the same time with two other able
sculptors) a model of the famous antique group
of the Laocoon to cast in bronze. Sansovino's
was esteemed the best, on the authority of Raf-
faelle. The lodge of St. Mark's Place at Venice
is the work of the same artist, who placed in
niches four bronze statues representing Pal as,
Apollo, Mercury, and Peace. One of his cele-
brated performances (the greater part of which
are at Rome and Florence) was a marble statue
of Bacchus, lost in the fire at the grand duke's
palace in 1762 : an engraving of it remains in
the third volume of the Museede Florence. The
Virgin in the church of St. Mark, and a figure
St. John Baptist, in that of Casa Granda, pass
for the chefs d'ceuvre of this master. He died
at Venice in 1570, eighty-three years old. Bac-
cio Bandinelli, born at Florence in 1487, had for
his first master his father, who was a goldsmith,
but afterwards received instructions from Rus-
tici. He was a good designer ; his manner was
learned and striking, and bore some resemblance
to that of Michel Angiolo. There is, however,
in the Pitti palace, a Bacchus in marble treated
in a manner very soft and graceful. To Bandi-
nelli was imputed the heavy charge of his having
been seduced by jealousy to destroy the cartoons
of Michel Angiolo and of Lionardo da Vinci.
It was he who restored, in terra cotta, the right
arm of the Laocoon, the original having been
lost. Skilful in anatomy, he was accused of
having been too fond of displaying that know-
ledge. He died in 1559. Amongst his most
renowned pupils were : — P. da Vinci (nephew of
Lionardo), died 1570 ; B. Ammanati, born at
Florence in 1511 ; V. Rossi and J. B. D. Lo-
renzi, who sculptured, at Florence, at the tomb
of Michel Angiolo, a figure of painting, together
with the bust of that great arti§t. Benvenuto
Cellini was born at Florence in 1500, and died
in 1570. lie was painter, goldsmith, and sculp-
tor. He also was summoned to Paris by Francis
I. Propertia Rossi is one of the few female
names that we meet with among the sculptors
of this early date. This interesting woman lays
claim to notice in several ways. She studied
and well understood the laws of perspective and
architecture ; nor did the science of music es-
cape her observation. She likewise executed
some pretty drawings in pen and ink. Her fame
as a sculptor rests principally on a bust of the
count Guido, and upon two angels in marble
with which she decorated the facade of the church
2 Y
SCULPTURE.
of St. Petronia. This poor young creature fell
a victim to the chagrin arising from a hopeless
attachment, in 1530. D. Ricciarelli, called
Volterra (the town wherein he was born, about
1509), was the friend and imitator of Michel
Aruiolo. L. Ricciarelli, his nephew, was like-
wise a good sculptor. Amongst his other eleves
were : — M. Alberti, of Florence ; F. da San
Vito, of Rome ; J. Mazzoni ; Pelegrin, of Bo-
logna, called Tibaldi; M. di Sienne; J. P. Ro-
setti, of Volterra ; and D. B. da Cormigliano, of
Pistoia. The year 1576 witnessed the death of
Gaspard Bacerra. V. Dante, who executed the
admired statue of pope Julius II., died in 1576.
G.D. D'Auria in 1585. A. Fontana in 1587.
P. Scavezzi in 1590. G.B. Lorenzi in 1593.
G. Delia Porta, born at Milan, studied under his
uncle, and cultivated the art of drawing at Ge-
neva from the lessons of P6rin del Vaga. In
this town he also produced several works in
sculpture. At Rome, he restored several antiques,
particularly the legs of the Farnese Hercules,
the work of the Athenian Glycon. These were
esteemed so very beautiful that, although the
antique limbs were subsequently found, Michel
Angiolo expressed himself against their being
restored. The pupils of Delia Porta were : — G.
Tedesco, who executed small statues, and orna-
ments in basso-rilievo, and B. Torregiani, of
Bologna, who died 1596. There were also in
his own family several other renowned sculptors,
such as the Chevaliers J. B. and T. Delia Porta.
• — F. Ferrucci, surnamed Tadda, lived towards
the middle of the sixteenth century.
J. L. Bernini, born at Naples in 1598, was a
great architect as well as sculptor. A. Algardi,
born at Bologna in 1602, and died in 1654, stu-
died painting at first in the school of Ludovico
Caracci, but he afterwards went over to the
sister art. He could not, however, divest him-
self of his old attachment; and accordingly we
find him praised by some and blamed by others
for endeavouring to add to the generally under-
stood beauties of sculpture some of the effects
previously considered proper to painting. Al-
gardi, however, formed a school, which has pro-
duced D. Guidi, J. M. Baratta, J. Peroni, II.
Ferrata, G. Brunelli, and C. Mazza, of Bologna.
Neither should we omit to state that Algardi like-
wise occupied himself with engraving. A.
Raggi, called the Lombard, was born in 16'24 at
Vicomorto, on the confines of the Milanese
territory, and was successively the pupil of
Algardi and Bernini. His works are nume-
rous at Rome. J. Gonnelli, surnamed the blind
man of Cambassi (the name of his country in
Tuscany), studied successfully under PeterTacca.
Having lost his sight, at the early age of twenty,
he nevertheless did not abandon the practice of
his art, but executed several figures in terra
cotta, guided by tact alone. It is thus that he
made a statue of Cosmo, first grand duke of
Tuscany. J. B. Tubi saw the light at Rome in
1630. This man appears to have practised
chiefly in France, where he was admitted into
the Royal Academy in 1663. He made a beau-
tiful copy ot the group of the Laocoon, which
ornaments one of the apartments in the palace
of Trianon. He died at Paris in 1700. C.
Rusconi was born at Milan in 1658, where b
learnt sculpture, and afterwards proceeded to
Rome in order to perfect himself therein. Pas-
sionately devoted to the antique, he copied the
Antinous, the Rape of Proserpine, the Belvidere
Apollo, and twice the Farnese Hercules. The
Apollo and one of the latter figures were brought
over to this country. The disciples of Rusconi
were J. Rusconi and J. B. Maini, both artists of
reputation. Angelo Rossi follows, distinguished
both as a sculptor and drawer. His claim to
merit is more particularly founded on the excel-
lence of his bassi rilievi. Not only has he sur-
passed all his predecessors in that particular
walk, but has served as a model to those suc-
ceeding him. Rossi did not treat bassi rilievi in
the manner of Algardi, who gave a considerable
projection to the figures, but observed that demi-
relief which certainly approaches very near to
the method taken by the ancients. His basso
rilievo made for the tomb of Alexander VIII.,
and representing several canonisations made by
that pope, is regarded as the most exquisite of
all the ornaments of a similar character \vhich
adorn the basilica of St. Peter's. He left only
one pupil of any note — namely, F. Moderati, of
Milan, of whom there are extant two stucco
figures of Venus in the palace of the apostolical
chancery at Rome. G. G. Zumbo, born at
Syracuse in 1656, became a sculptor without
any other aid than that of his own genius. He
used in all his works no other substance than
colored wax, which, however, he prepared in a
peculiar manner. Warin and Le Bel had pos-
sessed, it is true, this secret before him : but it
was reserved for Zumbo to bring it to perfection.
It was this artist who executed for the grand
duke of Tuscany the famous subject known by
the name of La Corruzione : this singular compo-
sition consists of five figures, of which the first
is a man dying, the second a dead corpse, the
third a body beginning to decay, the fourth,
another in a further stage of decomposition, and
the fifth an appalling spectacle of complete putre-
faction ! Great horror is inspired by the sight of
these objects, owing to the truth and correctness
which the artist has thrown into their delineation.
He died in France in 1701.
The following names will complete our cata-
logue of Italian sculptors : of their peculiar
merits little is now known. — A. Vittoria, died
1608; A. G. Da Faenza, 1609; F. Cordine,
surnamed Franciosino, 1612; O.Censore, 1622;
C. Garafaglia, 1630; C. Molli and P.G. Tacca,
1640; F. Mocchi, 1646; F. Agnesini and P.
Bacci, about 1650; G. B. Bissoni, 1657; F.
Baratta, 1666; G. B. Volpi, about 1670; M.
Maglia, 1768; L. Bernini, 1682; P. P. Nardini,
1684; F. Ferrata, 1686; L. Ottone, about 1691 ;
G. B. Foggini, about 1700; G. Mazzoli, 1725 ;
M. Benzi and G. Mazzo, 1740; P. Mazetti,
1744; A. Corradini, 1752; and, to conclude,
F. Schiafino, 1765. The most celeorated name
connected in our day with Italian sculpture is
that of the lamented Canova. Thorwaldsen,
however, although by country a Dane, has been
accustomed so long to practise in Italy, that his
name may be permitted to stand by the great
one just mentioned.
SCULPTURE.
691
We now proceed to g.ve a Hst of those sculp-
tors who have distinguished themselves in the
neighbouring kingdom of France. The first of
these, respecting whom their countrymen have
much cause to boast, is Jean Gougon, of Paris.
The date of his birth is unknown ; nor are there
many authentic circumstances related of his life.
He must, nevertheless, be regarded as the re-
storer of sculpture in France. One of his most
considerable performances is the fountain of
Nymphs, called the Innocents, begun in the
reign of Francis I., and completed under that of
Henry II., in 1550. Goujon also distinguished
himself, not only as an architect but as an en-
graver of 'medals. This artist was slain, as a
huguenot, on the bloody festival of St. Bartholo-
mew, 1572. G. Pilon, of Paris, was the author
of various works, chiefly distributed about the
churches of that city, which may be said to pos-
sess the principle of grace rather than that of
correctness. The town of Douai gave birth to
Jean de Bologne, whose works enriched several
of the Italian cities. This artist wrought per-
haps the most colossal figure that owes its origin
to modern art. It is named, we know not why,
the Appennine, and represents Jupiter Pluvius
seated. It is so large that within the head is a
capacious pigeon-house, whilst the hollow of the
trunk is occupied by a grotto adorned with shells
and jets d'eau. John of Bologna wrought with
great skill both in marble and bronze, and his
naked figures are particularly elegant and grace-
ful. Born in 1524, he died in 1608. Amongst
the great body of his pupils we may select P.
Francoville ; Anzirevelle ; Adrian, a Fleming;
Moca; A. Susini; F. Delia Bella, and Gasper
his brother, both of Florence; and Pierre Tacca.
The latter is, perhaps, the most celebrated of
any, and was engaged to complete all the works
eft unfinished at his master's death; among
'•vhich was the horse which bore the statue of
Henry IV., on the Pont Neuf at Paris. He died
1640. S. Guillain was born at Paris in 1581.
His father was a sculptor, known by the appel-
lation of Pere Cambrai, the place of his birth.
This man, having taught his son the first rudi-
ments of his art, sent him to perfect himself
therein at Rome. The greater part of Guillain's
works were destroyed, together with those of
other artists, during the Revolution. His style
may, however, be perceived from the figures or-
namenting the portals of St. Gervas, of the Sor-
bonne, and of the Feuillans. His followers were
Anguier, Hutinot, and Jacques Sarrasin ; which
latter is well known among French sculptors.
He was born at Noyon, but sojourned eighteen
years at Rome. The performances of Sarrasin
manifest almost throughout a correct taste ; but
his chef-d'oeuvre is the group of Caryatides, de-
corating the grand pavilion of the old Louvre,
figures, although collossal, still light and deli-
cate. The group of Romulus and Remus, at
Versailles, is likewise worthy of distinction.
The school of Sarrasin has produced many ex-
cellent artists ; among whom we may cite Le-
rambert, Le Gros, and J. Burette, of Paris, who
died 1699. Francois Anguier, born at Eu in
1604, wrought under Simon Guillain, and under
Algardi at Rome. Sentiment appears to have
been his strong point, the expression of which
was before his time but comparatively little
kxiovvn to the French statuaries. Paris received
the ornament of many of this sculptor's works,
but the most distinguished was the superb mau
soleum of the Due de Montmorency, beheaded
at Toulouse. This monument is to be seen at
Moulins, in the church of St. Mary. M. An-
guier, brother of the preceding, should be class-
ea rather amongst Italian sculptors, since he
was born at Rome, and studied in the school of
Algardi. The same may be said of Theodon,
who died at Paris about 1680. L. Lerambert,
born at Paris in 1614, preceded but a little
Peter Paul Puget, painter, architect, and sculp-
tor, born at Marseilles in 1622. Of all the
performances of this celebrated artist, the most
admired are, a basso-rilievo representing the
Assumption, at Mantua; the famous statue of
Milo, placed in the park at Versailles: the rape
of Andromeda by Perseus ; and the Alexander
before Diogenes, at Versailles; his last work,
also, which uas left unfinished, and is at Mar-
seilles, has been highly esteemed ; its subject is
the plague of Milan. Puget died 1694. Gas-
pard and Balthazar Marsy were born at Carnbray,
the former 1624, the latter 1628. They were
first educated by their father, and did not go to
Paris until 1648, where they received instruc-
tions, successively, of Sarrasin, Anguier, and
Buyster. These two brothers generally worked
in concert ; and a favorable idea of their talent
may be gained from the group of tritons giving
drink to the horses of the sun, in the baths of
Apollo at Versailles. E. Le Hongre, born at
Paris 1628, studied under Sarrasin. Of all the
sculptors employed during the splendid reign of
Louis XIV. the one who has left behind him
the highest reputation is Francois Girardon,
born in 1630 at Troyes in Champagne, where he
acquired the first elements of his art from study-
ing the beautiful sculptures which then adorned
his native town. After having passed some time
at Rome, he repaired to Paris, where his talents
were duly encouraged. The production most
contributing to his fame is the mausoleum of
Richelieu, in the church of Sorbonne. The
equestrian statue of Louis XIV., in the Place
Vendome, is another of his finest works. But,
after all, the strongest point in the genius of
Girardon is his facility and skill in modelling.
Among the number of his pupils were Fremin,
Nourrisson, Charpentier, Jean Joly of Troyes,
and P. Granier, born near Montpelier in 1635.
M. Van den Bogaert, surnamed Desjardins, al-
though a Dutchman by birth (born at Breda,
1640), takes rank among French artists, since
he established himself when very young at Paris,
where he remained. A. Coysevox, of Spanish
origin, was born at Lyons in 1640. His statues,
portraits, and bassi-rilievi, have embellished
Paris, Versailles, Sceaux, and Chantilly. He
particularly excelled in representing horses, his
skill in which respect is abundantly manifested
by the two groups of those animals placed at the
principal entrance gate of the Tuileries. C.
Vancleve was born at Paris in 1645, and studied
under Francois Anguier. A. Flamen, born at
St. Onier in 1647, had for his master Gasnard
2 Y 2
692
SCULPTURE.
Marsy. P. Francville, a native of Cambray,
was remarkable for purity of taste. Pierre Le
Gros is a name which served to illustrate greatly
the art of sculpture during the seventeenth cen-
tury. He was born at Paris 1656, but did not
long abide among his countrymen, having re-
paired to Rome at the age of ten years. N.
Coustou, born 1658, excelled in the art of mo-
delling to such a degree as rarely to use the
pencil. His draperies are rich and flowing ; his
style chaste and delicate ; but he does not seem
to have caught the genuine spirit of the antique.
M. Chabry, a pupil of Puget, was born in 1660.
The chief of his performances embellish the town
of Lyons. P. Le Pautre was born in the same
year. His name is immortalised in France by
the group at the Tuileries of JEneas bearing the
body of his father Anchises. J. L. Lemoyne,
born at Paris 1665, was an e"leve of Coysevox.
R. Le Lorrain, bora in 1660, was distinguished
for scientific style, elegant and piquant expres-
sion, and masterly handling of the marble. He
formed two sculptors, whose productions reflect
honor on his tutoring. These were Lemoyne
and Pigalle. A. Cayot was born in 1667, and
wrought fourteen years under Yancleve. L.
Magniere died in 1700. P. Mazeline in 1708.
F. Coudrai, pupil of Coysevox, and who became
first sculptor to the king of Prussia, died 1727.
J. Thierry, born at Lyons 1669, was invited to
Spain, where he wrought many years in marble,
bronze, and lead, for the gardens and palace of
St. Ildefonso. R. Fre'min, born at Paris in 1672,
worked at Rome in the school of the chevalier
Bernini. C. Falconet was born at Lyons in
1671, and died at Paris 1762. L'Amoureux,
born in 1674, was an £leve of Nicolas Coustou.
His native city, Lyons, possesses his best pro-
ductions. G. Coustou, born at Lyons 1678,
was a pupil of Coysevox, his uncle. He was
brother of Nicolas. His most celebrated works
are — the pediment of the Chateau d'eau, opposite
the Palais Royal, and the two fine horses placed
at the entrance of the Champs Elys£es. J.
Rousseau, eleve of Nicolas Coustou, born in
1681, became first sculptor to the king of Spain,
and died at Madrid. A. Vasse was born at
Seine, in Provence, in 1683. Dandr6 Bardon
commends, among others, his sculpture in the
gate of the Capuchins at Paris. F. Dumont,
born at Paris in 1688, was the sculptor of the
two figures of St. John and St. Joseph, as well
as the two corresponding ones of St. Peter and
St. Paul, which decorate the portal of St. Sul-
pice. The Dominicans of Lisle have also a fine
specimen of this sculptor's ability, in the mauso-
leum of Louis de Melun. G. Bouchardon, born
in 1698, belongs to the school of Guillaume
Coustou. In the construction of the fountain in
the Rue de Grenelle at Paris, he has displayed
his talent as an architect as well as statuary ; and
another performance well worthy of eulogy is
the equestrian statue of Louis XV., erected in
the place of that name, and destroyed in 1792.
The horse was a perfect chef-d'oeuvre. The ex-
pression of this artist was, jjenerally speaking,
rather sweet than sublime — his ideas learned ra-
ther than bold. L. S. Adam, born at Nancy in
1700, after having studied at Paris under the
most able masters, repaired to Rome, where h^
was employed to restore, among others, twelve
antique statues, exhumed from the ruins of the
palace of Marius. Two colossal figures by this
artist, representing the Seine and the Marne,
decorate the head of the cascade at St. Cloud.
C. Francin was born at Strasburgh in 1701.
Jean Baptiste, son of Jean Louis Lemoyne, was
born at Paris in 1704. His two most famous
works are a monument dedicated to Louis XV.
in 1744, by the states of Bretagne, and the colos-
sal equestrian statue of the same prince at Bor-
deaux. Lemoyne was likewise author of the
mausoleum of Mignard (a very rich piece cf
sculpture), as also of that of Crebillon. Rene"
Michel Slodtz, better known by the appellation
of Michel-Ange, was born at Paris in 1705, and
demands the praise due to a style grand although
simple, and to a skill in representing draperies
which has, perhaps, seldom found a parallel in
modern art. N. S. Adam (brother to the artist
of that name before mentioned) was born at
Nancy in 1705. A basso-rilievo in the chapel
at Versailles, representing the martyrdom of St.
Victoire, is amongst the number of his most suc-
cessful works. He took part with his brother in
the principal group of the basin at Versailles.
F. G. Adam, another brother of the preceding,
was born at Nancy in 1710. J. B. Pigalle, born
at Paris in 1714, was a pupil of Le Lorrain, and
Lemoyne the father. This sculptor wrought at
Lyons a statue of Mercury, which alone sufficed
to raise his reputation. The group of infants is
also fine, embellishing the facade of St. Louis at
the Louvre — more particularly the naive figure
of an infant holding a cage from which a bird
has escaped. The mausoleum of marshal Saxe
at Strasburgh, and the pedestrian statue of Louis
XV. in bronze, erected at Rheims, are both re-
garded as chefs-d'oeuvre of execution. Amongsc
the pupils of this artist, we may particularize
M. M. Mouchy (his nephew), Moette, Lebrun,
Bocquet, and Dupre, which latter passed his life
very obscurely, lending his talents to more fortu-
nate artists, who thus fathered works above their
own ability. J. F. J. Saly, born at Valenciennes
in 1717, was author of a pedestrian statue of
Louis XV., placed in his native town. His ' se-
cond best' was an equestrian statue in bronze of
Christian IV., king of Denmark, which was
erected at Copenhagen.
It may not be uninteresting to the reader to pos-
sess the following list of French sculptors who
were flourishing at the commencement of the
present century, and many of whom are, no
doubt, still pursuing their honorable avocation :
— J. L. Boyer, e"leve of Allegrin ; L. F. Boizot ;
J. B. Budelot, and Canellier, both pupils
of Bridan the elder ; T. N. Delaistre, pupil of
Lecomte and of Vasse" ; he made the statue of
Phocion at the Conservative Senate; J. Demon-
treuil ; E. J. Dumont, 61eve of Pajou ; Espar-
cieux, author of a well known bust of Raynal ;
Joplere, pupil of Berruer, and author of an ivory
group representing the death of Lucretia ; J. P.
Le Sueur ; P. Merard, of the school of Bouchar-
don ; Monot, e"leve of Claude Vass£ ; Pettitot;
C. Ramey ; P. Roland, pupil of Pajou, the exe-
cutor of a marble bust of admiral Ruyter, for th«
SCULPTURE.
693
gallery of the Tuileries ; Thierard, pupil of Bar-
the"limi; J. B. Stouf, pupil of Coustou ; Boquet;
P. C. Bridan. the younger, author of a fine bust
of the duke of Marlborough ; Brunei; Chardin;
J. M. Renaud ; Mouchy, author of a marble
bust of the Due de Sully for the gallery of the
Tuileries ; F. Masson ; Chaudet, pupil of Stouf,
and author of the colossal bust of the emperor
Napoleon, formerly in the hall of the Corps Le-
gislatif, and of a bust of the empress ; M. Clo-
dion ; Comolli, a Piedmontese : C. L. Corbet,
pupil of Berruer ; J. L. Couasnon ; J. C. N.
Lucas ; J. F. J. Leriche, superintendent of the
sculpture at the manufactory of Sevres ; F. F.
Lemot; Dumont; Lange, of Toulouse; E. P. A.
Gois, and his son and pupil; Dejoux ; Salvage;
Renaud ; P. N. Beauvallet ; Blaise, author of a
h'ne marble bust of Giulo Romano ; Montpel-
lier, pupil of Lemoyne ; Lorta, pupil of Bridan,
pere ; Foucou ; D'Egensviller ; Deseine ; Car-
delli ; A. Pajou, pupil of Coustou ; Houdon ;
P. Roland ; Allegrin ; and, finally, Moe'tte,
pupil of Pigalle. Nor has the gentler sex for
borne to pay its devoirs to this interesting art.
Madame Julia Charpentier, a pupil of Pajou ;
madame Antoniette G. Desfonts, pupil of Car-
lini; and madame Milot, may be particularised
with high commendation.
A wide field for observation presents itself in
turning to the catalogue of Spanish sculptors",
and we regret that our confined limits will not
allow us to dwell on it as the theme deserves!
We shall, however, take a rapid glance over the
principal names, commencing with that of Apa
ricio, who flourished in the eleventh century,
and was commissioned by Don Sancho the
Great to construct the shrine of St. Millan, still
preserved in the monastery of Yuso, and present-
ing, if we consider its remote date, great merit
both of grace and proportion. Aparicio was as-
sisted in his work by Rodolphe. About the
same time flourished Mateo, sculptor and archi-
tect. Bartolome made, in 1278, nine stone
statues, of the size of life, for the gate of the ca-
thedral church of Tarragona. J. Castayls, of
Barcelona, lived towards the end of the four-
teenth century, as did also Annrique, who exe-
cuted the rilievi of the tomb of Don Henry II.
F. Gonzalez flourished in 1399, and Centellasin
1410. A. and F. Diaz, A. F. de Sahagun, A.
Rodriguez, A. Gonzalez, A. Martinez, Alvar
Rodriguez, Christophe Rodriguez, J. Fernandez,
F.Garcia, F., J. and M. Sanchez, J. Alfonzo,
John Fernandez, John Rodriguez, M. Ruiz, P.
Gutierrez Nieto, together with P. and A. Lopez,
were all employed, from 1418 to 1425, in exe-
cuting the ornaments of the principal facade and
tower of the cathedral church of Toledo. To
this number we may add A. Gomez, James Ro-
driguez, Garcia Martinez, and John Ruiz. The
marble altar-piece of the grand altar of the church
of Tarragona was commenced in 1426 by P.
Juan, and finished afterwards by his associate
G. De La Mota. A. De Lima flourished at
Toledo in 1459, as did also F. De Las Arenas,
F. Garcia, &c. The sculptors belonging to the
last half of the fifteenth century are : — J. Caste-
luou, sculptor and goldsmith of Valencia, and
James his son ; the works of both are consider-
ably valued. J. Aleman, of Toledo, eminent for
the beautiful attitudes and draperies of his statues.
G. De Siloe, who obtained great reputation at
Burgos from his tomb of king John II., and of
the Infant, Don Alfonso. Paul Ortiz, one of the
most famous names in the circle of Spanish art,
and the most considerable of the restorers of
sculpture. Andres, who wrought in conjunction
with Nicolas : — their performances, as also those
of J. De La Cruz, have a Gothic character, but
display much facility of execution. B. De Or-
tega must not be forgotten amongst the masters
of Seville, nor (still more particularly) Dancart
and his pupil Marco.
Amongst the most eminent of Spanish sculp-
tors who adorned the beginning of the sixteenth
century maybe ranked A. De Fries, B. J. Moran,
Christiano, J. De Guadalupe, F. De Aranda,
F. DeCibdad, Guillemin Digante, J. De Aranda,
J. De Augos, J. Peti, P. De St. Michel, Rodrigo,
Salas, Solorzano, J. De Lanos, Laberrox, and
Luxan, each of whom contributed more or less
to the advancement of the art generally, and in
particular to the sculptures embellishing both
exterior and interior, and to the beautiful shrine
of the cathedral of Toledo. In the course of the
same half century — namely, from 1500 t6 1550,
appeared P. Millan, and his son John ; J. Olot-
zaga, sculptor and architect ; F. De Lara ; G.
Orozco ; S. De Aponte, whose productions ma-
nifest a most refined taste ; D. Mieier, pupil of
Dancart ; J. Perez, of Seville, author of several
colossal figures for the cathedral of that city ;
John, pupil of G. F. Aleman ; J. Morlanes, who
first among the Spanish sculptors adopted the
style of Albert Durer, which subsequently be-
came general ; B. De Aguilar and G. De Car-
denas, who were selected, with F. De Sahagun
and P. Izquierdo, to adorn with sculptures the
ecclesiastical theatre of the TJniversity of Alcada
de Henarez ; R. Aleman, remarkable for his
grotesque compositions; J. Millan, son and pu-
pil of Peter; B. Ordonez, of Barcelona, one of
the most celebrated artists of his time, particu-
larly in bassi-rilievi of marble ; &c. &c. We
must not omit the famous Alfonso Berruguete,
who likewise adorned this period as sculptor,
painter, and architect. This illustrious artist,
after having long sojourned at Rome, where he
studied under Yasari and Buonarroti, returned
to his native country ; and was the first to es-
tablish there perfect correctness of drawing, the
most beautiful proportions of the human body,
antique grandeur and expression — in short, all
which gives life to marble or to canvas. Sara •
gossa, Grenada, Valladolid, and Salamanca, as
well as the capital itself, all contain evidences of
the talent of Berruguete, whose return threw into
the shade the artist who had previously occu-
pied the largest share of public attention, Philip
De Vigarni.
The interval from 1550 to 1600 was not fruit-
ful with respect to the followers of sculpture in
Spain ; there are, however, a few great names to
be selected. Among these are : — J. de Navas,
pupil of Berruguete, with J. de Valencia, from
the same school. P. de Salamanca had the ho-
nor of obtaining, in 1558, a royal edict whereby
the art of sculpture was elevated from the
694
SCULPTURE.
:hanical vocations to the rank of a liberal pro-
fession. Christopher of Salamanca deserves also
honorable notice. But the most celebrated
artist belonging to this era was Paul de Cespe-
des, born at Cordova, and one of the first of
Spanish artists. Not only did he successively
practise painting, sculpture, and architecture,
but found time also to court the muse of poetry.
The elegance and purity of his drawings are ad-
mirable, as is the noble air of his figures. He
was skilful in anatomy, had a perfect knowledge
of chiaro-scuro, and excelled in coloring. The
seventeenth century produced A. Sardigna and
G. Hernandez or P'ernandez : the latter of whom
embellished with his works Madrid, Salamanca,
and, above all, Valladolid. This artist followed
the impressive style of Michel Angiolo. He had
the assistance of his kinsman and pupil ,T. F. de
Hibarne. A. Pugol, of Catalonia, composed
and designed with great spirit and taste, and his
draperies are particularly admirable. E. Pereyra,
a Portuguese, who settled early in Spain, left,
among other works, a statue of St. Bruno at
Madrid, eminent for character and expression.
J. M. Montagnez had the talent to give his
figures expressive and natural attitudes. A.
Cano, born at Grenada in 1601, was an admira-
ble sculptor; abundant proof of which is to be
found in the temples of Seville, Cordova, Ma-
drid, &c. L. F. de la Vega, born in Asturias,
died at Oviedo in 1675. Don J. de Rebengo,
of Saragossa, obtained a high reputation for his
little figures in wax, which were remarkable for
their grace and finish. J. de Mora died in 1725.
Peter Roldan, and Louis his son, were both
greatly esteemed among the sculptors of their
day. The eighteenth century gave birth in
Spain to several excellent sculptors. Don P.
Duque Cornesso of Seville, and Don J. de
Hinestrosa, both deserve favorable notice. A.
Salvador, surnamed the Roman, died in 1766.
L. S. Carmona, in 1767. Philip de Castro, of
Galicia, is a most prominent artist of this era,
and contributed greatly to spread the principles
of fine taste throughout his country. He died in
1775. F. Gutierrez, in 1782. Besides these
we may particularise Zarcillo y Alcaraz, J. P.
de Mena, C Salas, and E. Alvarez. For this list
of Spanish artists we are indebted to the work
published at Madrid, in 1800, in 6 vols. 12mo.,
entitled Diccionari Historic© de los mas Illus-
tres Professores de las Bellas Artes en Espasrna,
conpuesto por Don Juan Augustin Cean Ber-
mudez.
We select the following names from the list of
sculptors who have rendered themselves cele-
brated in Germany, Holland, or Russia. F.
Duquesnoi, born at Brussels in 1594, was sur-
named by the Italians the Fleming, by which
appellation he is best known. This artist was
most successful in the representation of infants,
in which department of sculpture he has been
rarely excelled. P. Buyster, born at Brussels in
1 595, passed the greater part of his life in France,
where he died at the age of eighty-four. Sebas-
tian Slodtz, born at Anvers 1655, went to perfect
Itimself in the French school of Girardon. A.
Quellms, also of Anvers, embellished his native
tiiy with many admirable productions. G. Van
Obstal died at Paris in 1668. Albert Durer, so
famous in other branches of the fine arts, ex-
celled also in sculpture, both in stone and wood.
L. Kern, and his son J. J. Kern, were also cele-
brated in their day. The latter practised a long
while in England where he died in 1668. G.
Leygebe, born in 1630 in Silesia, died at Berlin
in 1683, in possession of the singular art of cut-
ting beautiful little equestrian statues out of
large ingots of iron. One of his most esteemed
performances of this kind is at Dresden, and
represents Charles II. of England, as the Cheva-
lier St. George. M. Rauchmiiller just preceded
A. de Schliiter, of Hamburgh, who learnt the art
of sculpture at Dantzic, and afterwards repaired
to Rome, where he attached himself to the man-
ner of Michel Angiolo. B. Permoser, who died in
1732, is better known by his Christian name,
Balthazar. F. X. Messerschmidt adorned Vienna,
his native town, with many excellent perfor-
mances. C. Osner, of Nu'rnburg, died at Peters-
burgh in 1704. The count Rastrelli, of Italian
origin, Zwenkof, Dunker, and Stahlmeyer, of
Vienna, all practised in Russia ; as likewise did
Domacht, of Swiss origin. Schwartz, of Dres-
den, also settled at Petersburgh ; nor must we
omit to notice a Russian artist of the name of
Pawlof, who, having studied under Dunker, re-
sorted to Paris for further instruction. To this
nomenclature we may add the names of G.
Petel, who died in 1636; N. Millich, in or
about 1669; M. Barthel in 1674; G. G. Wey-
henmeyer in 1715; A. de Papenhoren, about
1745 ; and A. Nahl, V. Sonnenschein, and Ohn-
macht, who were living at the commencement of
the present century.
In our own country sculpture has not been very
successfully practised until late years. The reader
is, however, congratulated on the chance now
exhibited of this department of art, like painting,
reaching a high point of excellence in these
islands. Several admirable modern sculptors
elevate with their productions the artistical repu-
tation of the British empire, and we can reflect
with pride on such names as Nollekins, Wilton,
Gibbons, Scheemaker, and Banks. The follow-
ing are among the most eminent of our late or
living sculptors: — J. Bacon, E. II. Bailey,
R. A., J. G. Bubb, F. L. Chantry, R. A.; J.
Flaxman, R. A., professor of sculpture to the
Royal Academy, S. V. and L. Gahagan, G. Gar-
rard, A. R. A., J. Henning, C. Rossi, R. A.,
Rouw (modeller of gems and cameos), P. Tur-
nerelli, and R. Westmacott, R. A. Nor must
we omit to mention the fair sculptor, Miss C.
Adams.
In the modern practice of the art of sculpture
the greatest name is certainly that of Michel
Angiolo. ' He considered,' says Mr. Duppa,
'sculpture as his profession, and his studies
throughout his whole life were more particularly
directed to it, than to painting or to architecture.
His first work of celebrity was a group of a Ma-
donna with a dead Christ, called in Italian la
Pietk. The subject, in its nature, is impressive,
and the composition is felt with appropriate sim-
plicity ; and, of all his works, it is that which
seems to have cost him the most laborious atten-
tion. With Michel Angiolo expression an.*
SCULPTURE.
695
character were a primary consideration : and,
although he set the antique sculpture before him
as an example and a guide, this marked distinc-
tion is to be taken between his view of the sub-
ject and that of the ancients ; he made ideal
beauty and form subservient to expression ; they,
on the contrary, made expression and animation
subservient to form. The Laocoon* and his
two sons have more expression in their counte-
nance than all the other antique statues united ;
yet Sir Joshua Reynolds has observed that, even
in this instance, there is only the general expres-
sion of pain, and that the pain is still more
strongly expressed by the writhing and contor-
tion of the body than by the features. In con-
sulting all the examples which are left of ancient
sculpture, it would seem, they established it as
a general principle that, to preserve the most
perfect beauty, in its most perfect state, the pas-
sions were not to be expressed ; all of which
may be supposed, in some degree, to produce
distortion and deformity in the features of the
face. The group of the boxers is a remarkable
instance in favor of this opinion ; they are en-
gaged in the most animated action with the
greatest serenity of countenance ; and, without
attributes, it would be difficult to discriminate
between the Juno or the Minerva, the Bacchus
or the Meleager; nevertheless, in the Apollo
Pythius, there is a graceful, negligent, and ani-
mated air, and in the Discobulus a vulgar eager-
ness of expression, which deserves to be re-
marked, to show the nice discrimination of
character which the ancients were capable of
making when the expression was not incompati-
ble with what they considered as a higher excel-
lence. The Bacchus of Michel Angiolo is an
attempt to unite a degree of drunkenness with
his character ; but, inasmuch as t'*at effect is
produced, both the sculpture and the deity are
degraded : of this character there are several ex-
amples in antique gems, but, however skilful the
representation may be in so small a size as a
gem, it is certainly not a fit subject for a statue
of the proportion of life. The two female
figures composing part of the present monument
of Julius II. are simple and elegant; and those
of Morning and Night, in the Lorenzo Chapel,
are composed with great grandeur of design.
The works of Michel Angiolo have always a
strong and marked character of their own, his
thoughts are elevated, and his figures are con-
ceived with dignity ; and, if he wants the purity
and correctness of the antique (which he cer-
tainly does, in an eminent degree), his faults
never degrade him into feebleness ; when he is
* ' The Laocoon is finished with the chisel, show-
ing an incredible command of execution ; but in
Rome I once heard a very eminent sculptor say that
he believed the statue had been previously finished
with the rasp and file, and that the marks of the
chisel were made afterwards, to give the appearance
of facility to the execution, and at the same time a
roughness to the surface, which was more favorable
to the general effect of the figure than if it had been
left quite smooth. If the statue had been brought
down to this surface at once, he said, the dexterity of
the artist was more wonderful than any thing he
knew of in sculpture.'
not sublime he is not insipid ; the sentiment of
aggrandising his subject ever prevails, and, how-
ever he may fail in the execution, his works are
still entitled to the first rank among modern
productions in sculpture. Barry has truly ob-
served, when speaking of his statue of Moses,
that, although that figure may be considered as
rather extravagant, yet it contains such proofs of
knowledge and capacity as will ever make his
name sacred among artists ; and this criticism
may be extended with equal propriety to his
other works, whatever may be their faults.
Michel Angiolo was of the middle stature, bony
in his make, and rather spare, although broad
over the shoulders. He had a good complexion ;
his forehead was square, and somewhat project-
ing ; his eyes rather small, of a hazel color, and
on his brows but little hair : his nose was flat,
being disfigured by a blow he received from Tor-
rigiano, a contemporary student with Michel
Angiolo, and a sculptor of great merit, but a
proud, inconsiderate, and ungovernable character.
Bevenuto Cellini, in his own life, has recorded
this affair with Michel Angiolo, as it was related
to him by Torrigiano himself: — ' His conversa-
tion one day happened to turn upon Michel
Angiolo Buonarroti, on seeing a drawing of mine
made from the celebrated cartoon of the Battle of
Pisa. ' This Buonarroti and I,' said Torrigiano,
' when we were young men, went to study in the
church of the Carmelites, in the chapel of Ma-
saccio ; and it was customary with Buonarroti to
rally those who were learning to draw there.
One day, amongst others, a sarcasm of his having
stung me to the quick, I was extremely irritated,
and, clutching my fist, gave him such a violent
blow upon his nose, that I felt the cartilage yield
as if it had been made of paste, and the mark I
then gave him he will carry to his grave.' B.
Cellini's account of Torrigiano is, ' That he was
a handsome man, but of consummate assurance,
having rather the air of a bravo than a sculptor :
above all, his strange gesture? and his sonorous
voice, with a manner of knitting his brows
enough to frighten any man who saw him, gave
him a most tremendous appearance, and he was
continually talking of his great feats amongst those
bears of Englishmen whose country he had but
recently left.' We are indebted to Torrigiano
for the monument of Henry VII. in Westminster
Abbey, finished, according to Stow, in 1519,
arid for which the sculptor received £1000. His
ungovernable and restless habits often precipitated
him into great difficulties, and the circumstances
of his death furnish a melancholy instance of
the vicissitudes of life, and the baneful effects of
inquisitorial jurisprudence.
' Upon leaving England he visited Spain, and,
after distinguishing himself by many excellent
works, was employed by the duke D'Arcus to
execute in marble a Madonna and infant Christ,
of the size of nature, with high promises to be
rewarded in proportion to his merit. As the
duke was a grandee of the first rank, Torrigiano
flattered himself with a proportional expectation.
After mucl- study and application he completed
his work to "uis own satisfaction ; e'.:d i-is per-
formance 'vas seen with delight and reverence.
Impatiei'* 'o possess this treasure, the 4uke im
696
SCULPTURE.
mediately sent for it; and, that his generosity
might be displayed to the greatest advantage, he
loaded two lacqueys with the money to defray
the purchase. The bulk was promising ; but
when the bags were found to contain nothing
but brass maravedi, which amounted only to the
small sum of thirty ducats, vexation and disap-
pointment roused Torrigiano's resentment ; who,
considering this present rather as an insult than
as a reward for his merit, on a sudden snatched
up his mallet, and without regard to the perfec-
tion of his workmanship, or the sacred character
of the image, he broke it into pieces, and dis-
missed the lacqueys with their load of farthings
to tell the tale. The grandee, with every passion
alive to this merited disgrace, and perhaps im-
pressed with horror for the sacrilegious nature of
the act, presented him before the court of inqui-
sition, and impeached him for his conduct as an
infidel and a heretic. Torrigiano urged the right
of an author over his own creation : Reason
pleaded on his side, b'lt Superstition sat in
judgment, and he was condemned to lose his
life with torture ; but the holy office lost its vic-
tim— Torrigiano starved himself to death in pri-
son (1522), to avoid its torments and the horror
of the execution ! He was about fifty years of
age.' — Vasari, torn. iii. p. 76.
Canova and Thorwaldsen, together with our
own Chantrey, occupy the topmost rank among
sculptors of the present day, or rather did so un-
til death snatched away the former of these emi-
nent artists. Still we are inclined to think that
the performances of Canova have been somewhat
over-rated. Many of them have a studied and
theatrical air quite inconsistent with good taste
as well as with the higher productions of Grecian
art, which this sculptor always affected to copy.
Mr. Mathews, in his Diary of an Invalid, speak-
ing of Canova's Venus, one of his most vaunted
figures, says : ' The boudoir of the Pitti Palace,
in the centre of which stands Canova's Venus,
brilliantly illuminated, and lined with mirrors,
reflected (he beauties of her figure in all direc-
tions, and exhibited the statue to the highest ad-
vantage. This is the statue which occupied the
pedestal of the Medicean Venus during her
flight to Paris, but I can find nothing divine
about Canova's Venus. She is not worthy to
officiate as chambermaid to the goddess of the
Tribune. It is simply the representation of a
modest woman, who seems to shrink from expo-
sure in such a dishabille ; while her Grecian
prototype, in native innocence and simplicity,
scarcely conscious of nakedness, seems to belong
to an order of beings to whom the sentiment of
shame was as yet unknown. The attitude of
Canova's is constrained, and perhaps even awk-
ward. This may arise from the manner in which
she compresses that scanty drapery which the
sculptor has given her, intending, I suppose, to
' double every charm it seeks to hide.' The
symmetry, too, is by no means perfect. The
head is manifestly too large. It is perhaps un-
fair to attribute to the sculptor the faults of the
marble ; but it is impossible not to remark that,
<:ven if the work had been more perfect than it
is, the unfortunate flaws, just in those places
where they are most mal a-propos, must v.till
have detracted much from its beauty. Many of
the copies of this statue seem to me quite equal,
if not superior, to the original ; an infallible
proof, if the remark be correct, of its mediocrity
of merit.' The same intelligent traveller thus
speaks of the talents of Thorwaldsen, a Danish
sculptor practising at Rome : — ' There is a fresh-
ness and originality in his designs, guided by the
purest taste. What can be more elegant and
beautiful than his basso-rilievo of Night? His
Venus victrix approaches nearer than any mo-
dern statue to the Venus di Medicis. There is
a shepherd, too, which is a delightful specimen
of simplicity and nature ; and the charm of these
statues is, that wh-le they emulate they have not
borrowed any thing from the works of the an-
cients.'
On the works of our own Chantrey we are
disposed to enlarge with all the spirit of nation-
ality ; but a recollection of our confined limits,
together with that sense of delicacy which re-
strains us from discussing minutely the merits of
a living artist, withhold us. Mr. Chantrey 's prin-
cipal productions are busts; but the work which
first fixed his high reputation, and is still re-
garded by many as his chef-d'oeuvre, is a group
of sleeping infants, to be seen in the cathedral at
Litchfield.
Of tlte different modern modes of process. —
Works of sculpture are performed either by
hollowing or excavating, as in metals, agates, and
other precious stones, and in marbles of every
description ; or by working in relief, as in bassi-
rilievi in the materials just mentioned, or in
statues of metal, clay, wood, wax, marble, or
stone. The excavation of precious stones forms
a particular branch of art called intaglio, which,
together with the working them in relievo, when
the term camayeu is applied to them, belongs to
the art of seal-engraving.
The excavation of metals constitutes the art of
engraving, in its various branches, on metal of
any kind ; and its relief comprises enchasing,
casting in bronze, &c.
The process of hollowing hard stone or marble
will need no particular description ; especially
as it is now wholly in disuse, except for the
forming of letter in monumental or other in-
scriptions.
In working in relievo the process is necessarily
different, according to the materials in which the
work is performed. As not only the beginning
of sculpture was in clay, for the purpose of
forming statues, but as models are still made in
clay or wax, for every work undertaken by the
sculptor; we shall first consider the method of
modelling figures in clay or wax.
Few tools are necessary for modelling in clay.
The clay being placed on a stand, or sculptor's
easel, the artist begins the work with his hands,
and puts the whole into form by the same means.
The most expert practitioners of this art seldom
use any other tool than their fingers, except in
such small or sharp parts of their work as the
fingers cannot reach.
In modelling in wax, the artist sometimes
uses his fingers, and sometimes tools of the same
sort as those alluded to for modelling in clay
It is at first more difficult to model in wax than
SCULPTURE.
tu clay, but practice will render it familiar and
easy.
Of the use of the model. — Whatever consi-
derable work is undertaken by the sculptor,
whether basso-rilievo, or statue, &c., it is always
requisite to form a previous model of the same
size as the intended work ; and the model being
perfected, according to the method before de-
scribed, whether it is in clay, or in wax, or a
cast in plaster of Paris, becomes the rule whereby
the artist guides himself in the conduct of his
work, and the standard from which he takes all
its measurements.
Of sculpture in wood. — A sculptor in wood
should first take care to choose wood of the best
quality, and the most proper for the work which
he intends to execute. If he undertakes a large
work, requiring strength and solidity, he ought
to choose the hardest wood, and that which
keeps best, as oak and chestnut; but, for works
of moderate size, pear or apple trees serve very
well. As even these latter woods are still of
considerable hardness, if the work consists only
of delicate ornaments, the artist will find it pre-
ferable to take some more tender wood, provided
it is at the same time firm and close; as, for in-
stance, the Indian tree, which is excellent for this
purpose, as the chisel cuts it more neatly and
easily than any other wood.
The ancients made statues out of almost every
different kind of wood. At Sicyon was a statue of
Apollo made of box ; the statue of Diana at Ephe-
sus was of cedar. As these two sorts of wood
are extremely hard and undecaying; and as ce-
dar, in particular, is of such a nature as, accord-
ing to Pliny, to be nearly indestructible, the an-
cients preferred them for the images of their
divinities. In the temple built on Mount Cyllene
in honor of Mercury, Pausanias relates, that
there was a statue of that god made of citron-
wood, eight feet in height. This wood was also
much esteemed. The cypress likewise, being a
•wood not apt to spoil, nor to be damaged by
worms, was also used for statues ; as were the
palm-tree, olive, and ebony, of which latter, ac-
cording to Pliny's account, there was another
statue of Diana at Ephesus. Several other kinds
of wood were equally employed for this purpose,
even the vine, of which the same author says
there were statues of Jupiter, Juno, and Diana.
Felibien speaks of a French artist at Florence,
of the name of Janni, who executed several sta-
tues in wood, in a style of finishing equal to
marble, and particularly one of St. Roque,
which Vasari considered as a marvellous pro-
duction. The beauty of sculpture in wood con-
sists in the tender manner of cutting the wood,
free from all appearance of hardness or dryness.
Of sculpture in stone and marble. — For
sculpture in marble, and other stone, the artist
must make use of tools made of good steel, well
tempered, and of strength proportioned to the
hardness of the material.
We have in a preceding section adverted to
the ordinary practice. By the dexterous and de-
licate use of the chisel, the sculptor gives all the
softness and tenderness to the figure, till at length
the rasp prepares it for being polished. Rasps
are of several kinds, some straight, some curved,
and some harder or softer than others. When
the sculptor has thus far finished his work with
the best tools he can procure, wherever certain
parts or particular works require polishing, he
uses pumice-stone to make all the parts smooth
and even. He then goes over them with tripoli,
and, when he would give a still higher gloss, he
rubs them with leather and straw ashes.
Besides the tools already mentioned, sculptors
use also the pick, which is a small hammer
pointed at one end, and at the other formed with
teeth made of good steel and squared, to render
them the stronger. This serves to break the
marble, and is used in all places where the two
hands cannot be employed to manage the mallet
and chisel. The bouchard, which is a piece of
iron, well steeled at the bottom, and formed into
several strong and short points like a diamond,
is used for making a hole of equal dimensions,
which cannot be done with cutting tools. The
bouchard is driven with the mallet or beetle, and
its points bruise the marble and reduce it to
powder. Water is thrown into the hole from
time to time, in proportion to the depth that is
made, to bring out the dust of the marble, and to
prevent the tool from heating, which would de-
stroy its temper ; for the freestone dust on which
tools are edged is only moistened with water to
prevent the iron from heating and taking off the
temper of the tool by being rubbed dry; and the
trepans are wetted for the same reason. The sculp-
tor uses the bouchard to- bore or pierce such parts
of his work as the chisel cannot reach without
danger of spoiling or breaking them. In using it
he passes it through a piece of leather, which
leather covers the hole made by the bouchard,
and prevents the water from spirting up in his
face.
The tools necessary for sculpture, on marble or
stone, are the roundel, which is a sort of rounded
chisel ; the houguet, which is a chisel squared
and pointed ; and various compasses to take the
requisite measures.
The process of sculpture in stone is the same
as in marble, excepting that, the material being
less hard than marble, the tools used are not so
strong, and some of them are of a different form,
as the rasp, the handsaw, the ripe, the straight
chisel with three teeth, the roundel, and the gra-
ter. If the work is executed in freestone, tools
are employed which are made on purpose, as
the freestone is apt to scale, and does not work
like hard stone or marble. -Sculptors in stone
have commonly a bowl in which they keep a
powder composed of plaster of Paris, mixed with
the same stone in which their work is executed.
With this composition they fill up the small
holes, and repair the defects which they meet
with in the stone itself.
In the work of Junius, De Pictura Veterum
(lib. 2, chap. 3), and in the Bibliotheque Grecque
of Fabricius (lib. 3, chap. 24, sect, x.), a cata-
logue is to be found of ancient authors who
have treated of the art of sculpture. Among
modern works on the theory and practice of this
art, we may cite the following : — Pomponii Gau-
rici, De Sculptura sive Statuaria Veterum Dia-
logus, Florent. 1504, 4to., and in the ninth vo-
lume of the Thesaurus of Gronovius. L. B. de
698
SCULPTURE.
Albertis, De Sculptum, Basil, 1540, 8vo., De
Ccelatura et Sculptura Veterum, by Aid. Ma-
nuce, also to be found in the ninth volume of
the Thesaurus of Gronovius. The third and
fourth books of the work entitled Callus Romae
Hospes, by Ludovicus Demontiosius, Rome,
1585. These have been reprinted in theDacty-
liotheque of Gorlxus, likewise in the ninth vo-
lume of the Thesaurus of Gronovius. Jul. C.
Bulengeres, De Pictura, Plastice, et Statuaria,
in his Opuscules, Leyden, 1621, 8vo., and in the
ninth volume of Gronovius. P. P. Rubenius,
De Imitatione Statuarum Gracarum, in the
Cours de Peinture, by Depiles, Paris, 1760,
12mo. The first chapter of the first book, and
the fifth and sixth chapters of the second book
of the Archaeologia Litteraria de Ernesti, treat
de Marmoribus, de Toreutice, et de Plastice.
Commentationes duae super Veterum Eborae,
Eburneiscrue Signis, by M. Heyne, in the first
volume of the new Memoirs of the Royal Society
ofGottingen; in the fourth and fifth volumes of
which same Memoirs we find Monumentorum
Etruscorum Artis ad Genera sua et Tempera re-
vocatorum Illustratio, by the same.
Among Italian works : — II Disegno del S. Ant.
Franc. Doni, ove si Tratta della Scultura e Pit-
tura de' Colori, de' Getti, de' Modegli, con molte
Cose appartinenti, Venice, 1549, 8vo. Several
chapters of the Introduction to Vite de piu ex-
cellenti Architetti, Pittori e Scultori Italiani, by
Vasari, treat of Sculpture. Due Trattati, uno
dalle otte principale Parti d'Oreficeria, 1'altero
in materie dell' Arte della Scultura, dove si ve-
dono infiniti Segreti per lavorare le Figure di
Marmo, e del gettarle di Bronzo, da Benvenuto
Cellini, Firenze, 1568, 4to. In the Lezione di
M. Benedetto Varchi, Sopra diverse Materie
Poetiche e filosofiche, Firenze, 1549, we find a
letter of Cellini on the advantage which sculpture
has over painting ; and another little treatise of
this nature is added, by the same author, to the
Essequie di Michel Angiolo Buonarroti, Firenze,
1564, 4to. Discorsi sopra le Antichita Romana,
di Vincentio Scamozzi, Venice, 1582, with forty
folio engravings, contain several articles on
sculpture, and on the marbles to be preferred for
statues. II Ri]K»so di Raffaele Borghini, in cui
si favella della Pittura e della Scultura e de' piu
illustri Pittori et Scultori, antichi emoderni, Fi-
renze, 1584, 4to., and 1730, 4to. Discorso in-
torno alia Scultura e Pittura, di Alessandro Lami,
Cremona, 1584, 4to. L'Idea de' Pittori, Scultori,
e Architetti, del Cav. Fed. Zuccaro, Torino, 1607,
4to. Avvertimenti e Regole sopra 1'Architettura,
civile e milit., la Pittura Scultura, e Prospettiva,'
da Pietro Ant. Barca, Milan, 1620, fol. Le
Pompe della Scultura, da Giamb. Moroni, Fer-
rara, 1640, 12mo. Trattato della Pittura e Scul-
lura, uso ed abuso loro, composto daun Teologo
(Father Ottonelli), e da un Pittore (Pietro da
Cortona), Firenze, 1652, 4to. Discorso delle
Statue, da Giovanni Andrea Borboni, Rome,
1661, 4to. Lettera, nella quale si risponde ad
alcuni Quesiti di Pittura, Scultura, &c., addressed
to the marquis V. Capponi, by Filippo Baldi-
nucci, Rome, 1681. Sfogamenti d'lngegno so-
pra la Pittura e la Scultura, dal P. F. Minozzi,
Venice, 1739, 12mo. Raccolta di Lettere sulla
Pittura, Scultura, ed Architettura, scrette da piu
celebri Personnaggi che in dette Arti fionrono dal
sec. xv. all. xvii. Rome, 1754, 4to, 7 vols. Dia-
loghi sopra le tre Arti del Disegno, by Giovanni
Bottari, Lucca, 1754, 8vo.
In Spanish is the following : — Varia Commen-
suracion para la Escultura y Architettura, por
Don Juan de Arphez Villafane, Madrid, 1675,
4to.
In the French tongue we find : — Conferences
de 1'Acadt'mie Royale de Peinture et Sculpture
pendant 1'annee, 1667, by Felibien, Paris, 1668,
4to. Des Principes de 1'Architecture, de la
Sculpture, de la Peinture, et des Arts qui en de-
pendent, by Felibien, Paris, 1697, 4to. Senti-
mens des plus habiles Peintres, sur la Pratique
de la Peinture et de la Sculpture, mis en table
de Preceptes, avec plusieurs Discours acade-
miques, by Henri Testelin, Paris, 1680, folio.
Traite des Statues, by F. Leme"e, Paris, 1688,
8vo. Manuscrit pour connoitre les Medailles
et les Statues anciennes, by Nicolas de Porcio-
naro, and four of the most famous and learned
antiquaries of Italy, Naples, 1713, 4to. De la
Sculpture, du Talent qu'elle demande, et de
TArtdes Bas-reliefs, by Dubos, to be found in the
fiftieth chapter of the first part of his Reflexions
critiques sur la Poesie et sur la Peinture; — Dis-
cours sur le Beau Ide"al des Peintres, Sculpteurs,
et Poetes, by L. H. Ten-Rate, included in a
translation of Richardson's Works, Amst. 1728,
8vo. Lettre sur la Peinture, Sculpture, et Ar-
chitecture, Amst., 1749, 8vo. Essai sur la Pein-
ture, Sculpture, et Architecture, by L. P. de Ba-
chaumont, Paris, 1731, I2mo. In the twenty-
ninth volume of Memoires de 1'Academie des
Inscriptions is a Memoir of the Comte de Cay-
lus, sur un Moyen d'incorporer la Couleur dans
le Marbre, et de fixer le Trait. Reflexions sur
la Sculpture, by E. Falconet, Paris, 1761, 12mo.
Nouveaux Sujets de Peinture et de Sculpture,
Paris, 1 755, 12mo. Essai sur la Sculpture, to be
found with the Traite- de Peinture of Dandr6
Bardon, Paris, 1765, 2 vols. 12mo. Ilistoire
Universelle traite"e relativement aux Arts de
Peindre et de Sculpter, Paris, 1769, 2 vols. 12mo.
Ichnographie, ou Discours sur les quatre Arts
d'Architecture, Peinture, Sculpture, et Gravure,
avec des Notes historiques, cosmographiques,
chronologiques,ge'ne'alogiques, et Monogram mes,
Chiffres, Lettres initiates, Logogriphes, &c., by
M. Herbert, Paris, 1767, 5 vols. 12mo. De
1'Usage des Statues chez les Anciens, Essai his-
torique, Brussels, 17.68, 4to, with prints. (The
Comte de Guasco is the author of this work).
Lettre sur la Sculpture a M. Theodore deSmeth,
by M. Hemsterhuis the younger, Amst. 1768,
4to., with engravings. Observations historiques
et critiques sur les Erreurs des Peintres, Sculp-
teurs, &c., dans la Representation des Sujets tires
de 1'Histoire-sainte, avec des Eclaircissemens
pour les rendre plus exactes, Paris, 1771, 12mo.
In the Cou.rs d'Architecture de F. Blondel (Pa-
ris, 1771), we find a Me" moire sur 1'Origine de
la Sculpture.
The following also maybe cited as conveying
information with respect to the execution of va-
rious works of sculpture : — Discours sur la Sta-
tue Equestre de Frederic Guillaume erige'e sin
SCULPTURE.
699
e Pout-Neuf a Berlin, by C. Ancillon, Berlin,
1703, fol. Description de ce qui a etc pratique
pour fondre d'un seul jet la Statue Equestre de
Louis XIV. en 1699, by G. Boffrand, Paris, 1743,
fol. Description des Travaux qui ont precede,
accompagne, et suivi la Fonte en bronze, d'un
seul jet, de la Statue Equestre de Louis XV".,
Paris, 1768, fol. Description de la Statue
Equestre que la Compagnie des Indes Orienta-
les a Copenhague, a consacree a la Gloire de
Frederic V., avec les explications des motifs qui
ont determine le choix des diffcrentes parties
qu'on a suivi dans la composition de ce monu-
ment, by J. F. J. Sailly, Copenhagen, 1771, fol.
In German : — Joachim de Sandrart, Admiranda
Artis Statuariae, Normandy, 1680, fol. Sum-
mary of the History and Principles of the Fine
Arts and Sciences, the first division of which
relates to the history and principles of sculpture,
Berlin, 1772, 8vo. by A. F. Busching. Sketch of
a History of the Arts of Design, Hamburgh,
1781, 8vo. by the same. Philosophy of Sculp-
tors, by E. L. Huch, Brandenburgh, 1775, 8vo.
The fifth and sixth chapters of the Treatise on
Literature and the Works of Art of Antiquity, by
J. F. Christ, Leipsic, 1776, 8vo. Treatise on
the Plastic Art, including sundry Observations on
Form and Figure, Riga, 1778. In the first vo-
lume of an Essay on an Academy of Fine Arts,
by C. F. Prangen, we find a treatise on the Me-
chanism of Sculpture. Essay on a History of
Sculpture among the Ancients, by Hofstaeter,
Vienna, 1778, 8vo. : in addition to which the
different works of Winkelman may be con-
sulted.
In our own language the works more particu-
larly useful for reference are : — A Letter on
Poetry, Painting, and Sculpture, by H. King,
London, 1768, 8vo. Collection of Greek, Etrus-
can, and Roman Antiquities, from the Hamilton
Cabinet, Naples, 1766, folio, which work con-
tains a paper on Expression in Painting and
Sculpture, as well as an Historical Summary on
the State of Sculpture among the Greeks.
The following books treat of certain monu-
ments of antique sculpture in particular: — Cal-
listrati, ' Ec0pa(mc, sive Descriptio Statuarium,
found among the works of Philostrates. The
Description of Greece, by Pausanias, and the
33d and 37th books of Pliny's Natural History.
Several Memoires of the Comte de Cay 1 us on
passages of Pliny relative to objects of art, are
inserted in the 19th, 25th, and 32d vols. of Me"-
moires de 1'Academie des Inscriptions et Belles
Lettres. Edmundi Figrellii, De Statuis il-
lustrium Romanorum, liber singularis, Holmiae,
1656, 8vo. Joannes Henrici Schlemmii, De
Imaginibus Veterum Atriensibus Praelim. et
cubicularis Dissertatio, Jena, 1664, 4to. Frede-
rici Mulleri, delineat lib. xi. quos molitus est de
Statuis Romanorum et praecipue de Natura
Statuarium quibus prisci Romani bene meritos
honorabant, Giessae, 1664, 4to. Joannis Nicolai,
Diatribe de Mercuriis et Hermis, Francofurti,
1701, 12mo. Chr. Gottfr. Barthii, De Imagi-
nibus Veterum in Bibliothecis vel alibi positis,
Hallae, 1702, 4to. Jacobi Gronovii, De Imagi-
nibus et Statuis principum Dissertatio, Ludg.
Ba1., 1 706, 4to. J. Munchii, De Statuis Veterum
Romanorum Dissertatio, Hafniae, 1714, 4to. F.
G. Freytagii, De Statuis TmXtffpvaic Veterum
Dissertatio, Lip., 1715, 4to. Oratorum et Rhe-
torum Grxcorum, quibus Statuae honoris causa
positae fuerunt, decas, Lips., 1752, 8vo., by the
same. G. G. Boarneri, De Statuis Achilleis
Dissertatio, Lips., 1759, 4to.
With respect to sculpture, as practised by the
moderns, the reader is referred to : — Cabinet des
Singularites d'Architecture, Peinture, Sculpture,
et Gravure, by F. Le Comte, Paris, 1 699, 3 vols.
12mo. Catalogue historique du Cabinet de
Sculpture Franyaise de M. de la Live de July,
Paris, 1764, 12mo. Monumens eriges en France
ai la Gloire de Louis XIV. precedes d'un Ta-
bleau du Progres des Arts et des Sciences sur
ce Regne, ainsi que d'une Description des Hon-
neurs et des Monumens accordes aux grands
Hommes, tant chez les Anciens que chez les
Modernes, et suivis d'un Choix des principaux
Projets qui ont ete proposes pour placer la Statue
du Roi, by M. Patte, Paris, 1765, fol., with fifty-
seven plates. Antiquites Nationales, ou Recueil
de Monumens pour serviral'Histoire del'Empire
Francais, tels que Tombeaux, Inscriptions, Sta-
tues, Vitraux, Frescoes, &c., tires des Abbayes,
Monasteres, et Chateaux, by A. L. Millin, Paris,
1791, 5 vols. 4to. and fol., with plates.
A catalogue of ancient sculptors is to be found
in the second edition of De Pictura Veterum,
by Junius, Rot. 1694, fol., whilst the following
treat of modern Italian sculptors : — Vite de' pitk
insigni Pittori e Scultori Ferraresi, by G. Baruf-
faldi, Ferrara, 1705, 4to. Notizie intorno alia
Vita ed alle Opere de' Pittori, Scultori ed intagl.
di Bassana, by G. Verci, Bass. 1775, 8vo. Catal.
Istoriche de Pittori ed Scultori Ferraresi, e dell*
loro Opere, Ferrara, 1783, 2 vols. 8vo.
On modern Spanish sculptors, independently
of the work by B^rmudez, already quoted (see
preceding article), we have : — Vidas de los Pin-
tores y Estatuarios eminentes Espagnoles, by
D. A. P. Velasco, London, 1742, 8vo., and, in
French, Paris, 1749, 12mo. This forms the third
part of the same author's Museo Pittorici, Madrid,
1725, fol.
On German sculptors : — J. C. Schumann, AI-
cimedon, or Lives of the most celebrated German
Sculptors and Engravers, Dresden, 1684, 8vo.
History of the best Swiss Artists, by J. C. Fussli,
Zurich, 1780, 5 vols. 8vo. Notices of sundry
Artists of Frankfort, of the Life and Works of
its Painters and Sculptors, by Husgen, Frankfort,
1780, 8vo. Several papers on the same subject
are likewise to be found in the Journal of Arts
of M. de Murr, and in that of Meusel.
We conclude with the admirable practical re-
marks of Sir Joshua Reynolds. ' The sculptor,'
says Sir Joshua, ' may be safely allowed to prac-
tise every means within the power of his art to
produce a deception, provided this practice does
not interfere with or destroy higher excellencies;
on these conditions he will be forced, however
loath, to acknowledge that the boundaries of his
art have long been fixed, and that all endeavours
will be vain that hope to pass beyond the best
works which remain of ancient sculpture.
' Imitation is the means, and not the end, of
art ; it is employed by the sculptor as the language
scu
700
SCU
b which his ideas are presented to the mind of
the spectator. Poetry an4 elocution of every sort
make use of signs, but those signs are arbitrary
and conventional. The sculptor employs the
representation of the thing itself; but still as a
means to a higher end — as a gradual ascent
always advancing towards faultless form and
perfect beauty. It may be thought at the first
view that even this form, however perfectly
represented, is to be valued and take its rank
only for the sake of a still higher object, that of
conveying sentiment and character, as they are
exhibited by attitude, and expression of the
passions. But we are sure, from experience,
that the beauty of form alone, without the as-
sistance of any other quality, makes of itself a
great work, and justly claims our esteem and
admiration. As a proof of the high value we
set on the mere excellence of form, we may pro-
duce the greatest part of the works of Michel
Angiolo, both in painting and sculpture; as well
as most of the antique statues, which are justly
esteemed in a very high degree, though no very
marked or striking character or expression of any
kind is represented. But, as a stronger instance
that this excellence alone inspires sentiment,
what artist ever looked at the Torso without
feeling a warmth of enthusiasm, as from the
highest efforts of poetry? Whence does this
proceed ? What is there in this fragment that
produces this effect, but the perfection of this
science of abstract form ? A mind elevated
to the contemplation of excellence perceives in
this defaced and shattered fragment, disjecta
membra poette, the traces of superlative genius,
the relics of a work on which succeeding ages
can only gaze with inadequate admiration.
' It may be said that this pleasure is reserved
only to those who have spent their whole life in
the study and contemplation of this art ; but the
truth is that all would feel its effects, if they
could divest themselves of the expectation of de-
ception, and look only for what it really is, a
partial representation of nature. The only im-
pediment of their judgment must then proceed
from their being uncertain to what rank, or rather
kind of excellence, it aspires ; and to what sort of
approbation it has a right. This state of darkness
is, without doubt, irksome to every mind ; but
by attention to works of this kind the knowledge
of what is aimed at comes of itself, without being
taught, and almost without being perceived.
The sculptor's art is limited in comparison of
others, but it has its variety and intricacy within
its proper bounds. Its essence is correctness :
and when to correct and perfect form is added
the ornament of grace, dignity of character, and
appropriate expression, as in the Apollo, the
Venus, the Laocoon, the Moses of Michel Angi-
olo, and many others, this art may be said to
have accomplished its purpose.'
SCUM, n. s. & v. a. Fr. escume ; Ital. sc/tiuma ;
Dan. and Goth. skum. That which rises to
the top of any liquor ; spume ; froth ; refuse : hence,
in contempt, the lowest of the people : to clear
off the scum.
The rest had several offices assigned ;
Some to remove the scum as it did rise,
Others to bear the same away did mind,
And others it did use according to his kind.
Faerie Queene.
There flocked unto him all the scum of the Irish
out of all places, that ere long he had a mighty army.
S)>enser.
Some forty gentlemen excepted, had we the very
tcum of the world, such as their friends thought it
an exceeding good gain to be discharged of.
Raleigh's Essays.
The salt part of the water doth partly rise into a
scum on the top, and partly goeth into a sediment in
the bottom. Bacon.
Gathered like scum, and settled to itself,
Self-fed and self-consumed. Milton.
A second multitude
Severing each kind, and tcummed the bullion dross.
Id.
I told tliee what would come
Of all thy vapouring, base scum. Iludinras.
The Scythian and Egyptian scum
Had almost ruined Rome. Rasconunon.
Away, ye tcum,
That still rise upmost when die nation boils.
Dry den.
Hear, ye sullen powers below ;
Hear, ye taskers of the dead !
You that boiling cauldrons blow,
You that tcum the molten lead !
Dryden and Lee's (Edipns.
What corns swim upon the top of the brine, sewn
off. Mortimer's Husbandry.
The great and innocent are insulted by the scum
and refuse of the people. Additon't Freeholder.
SCUPPER HOLES, n. s. Belg. schoepen, to
draw off. In a ship, small holes on the deck,
through which water is carried into the sea.
The leathers over those holes are called scupper
leathers ; and the nails with which they are fas-
tened, scupper nails.
The blood at scupper holes run out. Ward.
SCUPPERS, in a ship, are certain channels cut
through the water-ways and sides of a ship, at
proper distances, and liu'ed with plated lead, to
carry the water off from the deck into the sea.
The scuppers of the lower deck of a ship of war
are usually furnished with a leathern pipe, called
the scupper hose, which hangs downward from
the mouth or opening of the scupper. The in-
tent of this is to prevent the water from enter-
ing when the ship inclines under a weight of
sail.
SCURF, n. s. Sav. rcunp ; Goth and Swed.
skorfi Dan. skurff; Belg. schorft. A kind of
dry miliary scab ; a soil or stain adhering to the
skin or surface.
Her crafty head was altogether bald,
And, as in hate of honourable eld,
Was overgrown with scurf and filthy scald.
Faerie Queene.
There stood a hill, whose grisly top
Shone with a glossy scurf. Milton.
Then are they happy, when by length of time
The scurf is worn away of each committed crime,
No speck is left. Dryden.
scu
Upon throwing in a stone, the water boils • and at
the same time are seen little fleaks of scurf rising up.
Addison.
The virtue of his hands
Was lost among Pactolus' sands,
Against whose torrent while he swims,
The golden scurf peels off his limbs. Swift.
SCUR'RIL, adj. -\ Lat. scurrilis. Low ;
SCURRIL'ITY, n. s. (mean; grossly oppro-
SCUR'RILOUS, adj. fbrious: the more com-
SCUR'RILOUSLY, adv. J mon adjective is scur-
rilous, of the same signification ; the adverb and
noun substantive correspond.
Scurrilous and more than satyrical immodesty.
Hooker.
With him Patroclus,
Upon a lazy bed, the live-long-day
Breaks scurriL jests.
Shakspeare. Troilus and Cretsida.
Good master Holofernes, purge ; so it shall please
you to abrogate scurrility. Shaktpeare.
Let him approach singing. Forewarn him that
he use no scurrilous words in's tunes.
Id. Winter's Tale.
Nothing conduces more to letters than to examine
the writings of the ancients, provided the plagues of
judging and pronouncing against them be away ;
such as envy, bitterness, precipitation, impudence,
and scurril scoffing. Ben Jonson.
It is barbarous incivility, scurrilously to sport with
that which others count religion. Titiotson.
Thou movest me more by barely naming him,
Than all thy foul unmannered tcurril taunts.
Dryden.
Banish scurrility and profaneness, and restrain
the licentious insolence of poets. Id.
Such men there are, who have written scurrilously
against me, without any provocation. Id.
How often is a person, whose intentions are to do
good by the works he publishes, treated in as scur-
rilous a manner as if he were an enemy to mankind !
Addison's Freeholder.
Their characters have been often treated with the
utmost barbarity and injustice by tcurrilous and en-
raged orators. Su-ift.
SCUR'VILY, adv. From SCURVY. Vilely;
basely; coarsely. It is seldom used but in a
ludicrous sense.
Look i' your glass now,
And see how tcwvily that countenance shews :
You would be loth to own it.
Ben Jonton's Catiline.
This alters the whole1 complexion of an action,
that would otherwise look but very scurcily, and
makes it perfect. South.
The clergy were never more learned, or so scvrvily
treated. Su-ift.
SCUR'VY, n. s. & adj. From SCURF. A well-
known disease of low countries and of seamen,
see below. This word was, I believe, originally
an adjective, says Dr. Johnson ; and it signifies
as such scabbed ; diseased with scurvy ; vile ;
bad ; low ; offensive.
Whatsoever man be scurry or scabbed.
Lev. xxi. 20.
I know him for a man divine and holy ;
Not scurvy, nor a temporary meddler. Shaktpeare.
He spoke scurvy and provoking terms
Against your honour. Id.
The scurry is a distemper of the inhabitants of
cold countries, and amongst those such as inhabit
marshy, fat, low, moist soils, near stagnating water,
fresh or salt ; invading chiefly in the winter such as
70 SCU
are sedentary, or live upon salted or smcaked fiesij
and fish, or quantities of unfermented farinaceous
vegetables, and drink bad water. Arbuthnut.
A crane, which is but scurvy meat, lays but two
eggs. Cheyne.
It would be convenient to prevent the excess of
drink, with that scurvy custom of taking tobacco.
Swift.
SCURVY, in medicine. See MEDICINE.
SCURVY-GRASS, common officinal, or coch-
learia officinahs, grows upon rocks on the sea-
coast, and on the Highland mountains, abun-
dantly. It has an acrid bitter, and acid taste,
and is highly recommended for the scurvy. As
it abound-s with acid salts, there can be no doubt
but that it is a great resister of putrefaction.
The best way of taking it is raw in a sallad. It
is also diuretic, and useful in dropsies. The
Highlanders esteem it as a good stomachic.
'SCUSES. For excuses. A mere barbarism
of Shakspeare's.
T shifted him away,
A nd laid good souses on your ecstasy.
Shakspeare. Othello.
SCUT, n. s. Isl. skott ; Goth. skot. The tail
of certain animals whose tails are very short.
In the hare it is aversely seated, and in its dis-
tension inclines unto the coccix or scut.
Browne's Vulgar Errours.
He fled to earth, but first it cost him dear ;
He left his icut behind, and half an ear. Suift.
SCUTAGE, n. s. [Sax. scutagium, scildpe-
ning] was a tax or contribution raised by those
that held lands by knights' service, towards fur-
nishing the king's army with one, two, or three
merks for every knight's fee. Henry III., for
his voyage to the Holy Land, had a tenth granted
by the clergy, and scutage, three merks of every
knight's fee by the laity. This was also levied
by Henry II., Richard I., and king John.
SCUTARI, a lake of Albania, Greece, situated
about fifteen miles from the coast. It is about
sixteen miles in length, and seven in breadth,
containing several small islands. The Moracca
enters its northern extremity, and issues from its
south-eastern, where it is known as the Bojane.
SCUTARI, or ISKENDERJE, a large fortified town
of Albania, on the Bojane, at the south-east ex-
tremity of the lake of Scutari. Its highest point
is crowned by a castle. The town consists of
four quarters ; and has several mosques and
Greek churches, being the see of a Greek bishop.
The neighbouring plain is one of the richest in
Albania in vines and olive plantations. Scutari
is the capital of a pachalic, one of the most con-
siderable in Albania. Population 12,000. Fifty
miles east by south of Cattaro, and 448 west of
Constantinople.
SCUTARI, a large town on the Bosphorus, im-
mediately opposite to Constantinople. Its site
is most beautiful, on the slope of several hills,
and thickly intermingled with trees. The strait
appears here like a lake, planted round with
cities : and the minarets of Scutari command the
most brilliant views of Constantinople. It carries
on a considerable trade as a rendezvous for cara-
vans from the interior of Asia. Population
30,000.
SCUTCH'EON, n. s. Ital. scuccione, from
702
S C Y L L A AND C H A R Y B D I S.
Lat. scutum. The shield represented in heral-
dry ; the ensigns armorial of a family. See
ESCUTCHEON.
And thereto had she that scutcheon of her desires,
supported by certain badly diligent ministers.
Sidney.
Your tcutcheons, and your signs of conquest, shall
Hang in what place you please.
Shakspeare. Antonv and Cleopatra.
Honour is a mere tcutcheon. Id. Henry IV.
The chiefs about their necks the scutcheons wore.
With orient pearls and jewels powdered o'er.
Dryden.
SCUTE, a French gold coin of 3*. 4d. in the
reign of king Henry V. Catherine queen of
England had an assurance made her of sundry
castles, manors, lands, &c., valued at the sum of
40,000 scutes, every two whereof were worth a
noble.
SCUTELLARIA, skull-cap, in botany, a ge-
nus of the gymnospermia order, and didynamia
class of plants ; natural order fortieth, personals :
CAL. short, tubulated, has the mouth entire, and
close after flowering. There are two species,
natives of Britain, viz.
1. S. galericulata, blue skull-cap, or hooded
willow-herb. The stems are weak, branched,
and above a foot high : the leaves are heart-
shaped, narrow-pointed, on short foot-stalks,
and scallopped ; the flowers are blue, in pairs,
on pedicles from the alae of the leaves, and pen-
dulous. It grows on the banks of rivers and
lakes, is bitter, and has a garlic smell.
2. S. minor, little red skull-cap, or willow-
herb. The stalks are about eight inches high ;
the leaves are heart-shaped, oval ; the flowers are
purple. It grows in fens, and on the sides of
lakes.
SCUTELLATED, adj. Lat. scutella. Di-
vided into small surfaces.
It seems part of the scutellated bone of a sturgeon,
being flat, of a porous or cellular constitution.
Woodward.
SCUTTLE, n. ». Lat. scutella ; Celt, scutell.
Ainsworth. A wide shallow basket, so named
*-om a dish or platter which it resembles in
form.
A tcuttle or skrein to rid soil fro' the corn.
Tusstr.
The earth and stones they are fain to carry from
inder their feet in tcuttles and baskets.
Hake will on Providence.
To the hole A the door have a small scuttle, to
keep in what mice are there. Mortimer't Hutbandwy.
SCDT'TLE, n. s. & v. n. From SCUD or SCOUT.
A quick pace ; a short run ; a pace of affected
precipitation : to run in this manner.
She went with an easy scuttle out of the shop.
Spectator.
The old fellow scuttled out of the room.
Arbuthnot.
SCDTTLKS, in a ship, are square holes cut in
the deck, big enough to let down a man, and
which serve to let the people down into any
room below, or from one deck to another.
SCUTUM, in antiquity, the name of a shield
with which the Roman soldiers were formerly
armed. The scutum differed from the clypeus,
inasmuch that the former was oval and the
latter round. That which was used among the
Grecians was sometimes round, at others square,
and not unrrequently oval. The scutum, or
buckler, which the Lacedaemonians used, was so
lanre that the dead and wounded were carried
on it.
SCYLAX, a celebrated mathematician and
geographer of Caria, who flourished in the reign
of Darius Hystaspis, about 558 B.C. Darius
sent him to make discoveries in the east, and,
after a journey of thirty months, he visited Egypt.
The best edition of his Periplus is that of Gro-
novius, in 4to., Lug. Bat. 1697. Some have at-
tributed to him the invention of geographical
tables. We have under his name a geographical
work published by Hoeschelius ; but it is written
by a much later author, and is perhaps an
abridgment of Scylax's Geography.
SCYLLA, in the mythology, a daughter of
Nisus, king of Megara, who fell in love with
Minos while he was besieging her father's capital,
and offered to make him master of it, if he
would marry her. Minos promising this, she
cut off a golden hair of her father's head, while
he was asleep, on which the fate of Megara de-
pended. Minos took the city, but treated her
with the contempt her treason merited: on which
she threw herself into the sea, and was turned
into a lark, and her father into a hawk.
SCYLLA, a daughter of Typhon, or Phorcys,
who was beloved by the sea-god Glaucus, but
rejected his addresses. Glaucus applied to
Circe to use her spells, and turn Scylla's affec-
tion to him; but Circe, falling in love with
Glaucus herself, employed her most poisonous
plants to ruin her rival ; and, pouring the juice
of them into a fountain where Scylla bathed,
all the under part of her body was changed into
monsters, which never ceased barking like dogs.
On this Scylla threw herself into the sea, be-
tween Italy and Sicily, where she was meta-
morphosed into the rocks opposite to Charybdis,
that still bear her name. — Homer. Od. xii. 85.
Ovid. Met. xiv. 66, &c.
SCYLLA, in ancient geography, a rock in the
Fretum Siculum, near the coast of Italy, dan-
gerous to shipping, opposite to Charybdis, a
whirlpool on the coast of Sicily.
SCYLLA AND CHARYBDIS, according to the
fables of the poets, were two sea-monsters, con-
tinually on the watch to destroy unfortunate
mariners ; the one situated on the right, and the
other on the left extremity of the strait of Mes-
sina, where Sicily fronts Italy. Thus Virgil
describes them: —
Dextrum Scylla latus, levura implacata Charybdis
Obsidet, atque imo barathri ter gurgite vastos
Sorbet in abniptum fluctus, rursusque sub auras
Erigit alternos, et sidera verberat unda :
At Scyllam coeds cohibet spelunca latebris
Ora exertantem, et naves in saxa trahentem.
Prima hominis fades et pulchro pectore virgo
Pube tenus ; postrema immani corpore pristii
Delphi nrtm caudas utero commissa luperum.
/F.neid. lib. iii.
Far on the right her dogs foul Scylla hides ;
Charybdis roaring on the left presides,
And in her greedy whirlpool sucks the tides,
Then spouts them from below ; with fury driven
The waves mount up, and wash the face of heavei
SCYLLA AND CHARYBDIS.
703
But Scylla from her den, with open jaws,
The sinking vessel in her eddy draws,
Then dashes on the rocks : a human face.
And virgin bosom, hide her tail's disgrace ,
Her parts obscene below the waves descend,
With dogs enclosed, and in a dolphin end. Dryden.
The description of Virgil, above cited, differs
from that of Homer only in placing a deep gulf
below. Strabo, Isidorus, Tzetzes, Hesychius,
Didymus, Eustathius, &c., concur in the same
description. The abbe Spallanzani thus describes
Scylla in his time : ' It is a lofty rock, twelve
miles from Messina, which rises almost perpen-
dicularly from the sea on the shore of Calabria,
and beyond which is the small city of the same
name. Though there was scarcely any wind, I
began to hear, two miles before I came to the
rock, a murmur and noise like a confused bark-
ing of dogs, and on a nearer approach readily
discovered the cause. Tliis rock, in its lower
parts, contains a number of caverns, one of the
largest of which is called by the people there
Dragara. The waves, when in the least agitated,
rushing into these caverns, break, dash, throw
up frothy bubbles, and thus occasion these various
and multiplied sounds. I then perceived with
how much truth and resemblance of nature
Homer and Virgil, in their personifications of
Scylla, had portrayed this scene, by describing
the monster they drew as lurking in the darkness
of a vast cavern, surrounded by ravenous mastiffs,
together with wolves, to increase the horror.
The same author thus describes Charybdis :
' Charybdis is distant from the shore of* Messina
about 750 feet, and is called by the people of the
country Calofaro, not from the agitation of the
waves, as some have supposed, but from icaXoc
and 0apoc ; that is, the beautiful tower, from the
light-house erected near it for the guidance of
vessels. The phenomenon of the Calofaro is
observable when the current is descending ; for
when the current sets in from the north, the
pilots call it the descending rema or current; and,
when it runs from the south, the ascending rema.
The current ascends or descends at the rising or
setting of the moon, and continues for six hours.
In the interval between each ascent or descent
there is a calm which lasts at least a quarter of
an hour, but not longer than an hour. After-
wards, at the rising or setting of the moon, the
current enters foam the north, making various
angles of incidence with the shore, and at length
reaches the Calofaro. This delay sometimes con-
tinues two hours ; sometimes it immediately falls
into the Calofaro ; and then experience has
taught that it is a certain token of bad weather.'
The saying which became proverbial among
the ancients, ' Incidit in Scyllam, qui vult vitare
Charybdim ; he who endeavours to avoid Chary -
»dis, dashes upon Scylla,' is still in a great
measure true. If a ship be extricated from the
fury of Charybdis, and carried by a strong
southerly wind along the strait towards the
northern entrance, it will indeed pass out safely ;
but, should it meet with a wind in a nearly op-
posite direction, it would become the sport of
both these winds, and, unable to advance or re-
cede, be diiven in a middle course between their
»wo directions, that is to say, full upon the rock
of Scylla, if it be not immediately assisted L
the pilots.
The following is an account of these bugbears
of antiquity, given by captain Smyth, an intelli-
gent British seaman: 'The flights of poetry,'
observes our author, 'can seldom bear to be
shackled by homely truth ; and if we are to re-
ceive the fine imagery that places the summit of
this rock (Scylla) in clouds, brooding eternal
mists and tempests ; that represents it as inac-
cessible, even to a man provided with twenty
hands and twenty feet, and immerses its base
among ravenous sea-dogs ; why not also receive
the whole circle of mythological dogmas of Ho-
mer, who, though so frequently dragged forth as
an authority in history, theology, surgery, and
geography, ought in justice to be read only as a
poet ? In the writings of so exquisite a bard, we
must not expect to find all his representations
strictly confined to a mere accurate narration of
facts. Moderns of intelligence, in visiting this
spot, have gratified their imaginations, already
heated by such descriptions as the escape of the
Argonauts, and the disasters of Ulysses, with
fancying it the scourge of seamen, and that, in
a gale, its caverns ' roar like dogs ;' but I, as a
sailor, never perceived any difference between
the effect of the surges here, and on any other
coast ; yet I have frequently watched it closely
in bad weather. It is now, as I presume it ever
was, a common rock, of bold approach, a little
worn at its base, and surmounted by a castle,
with a sandy bay on each side. The one on the
south side is memorable for the disaster that hap-
pened there, during the dreadful earthquake of
1783, when an overwhelming wave (supposed to
have been occasioned by the fall of part of a
promontory into the sea) rushed up the beach,
and, in its retreat, bore away with it upwards of
2000 people. Outside the tongue of land, or
Braccio di St. Rainiere, that forms the harbour
of Messina, lies the Salofaro, or celebrated vor-
tex of Charybdis, which has, with more reason
than Scylla, been clothed with terrors by the
writers of antiquity. To the undecked boats of
the Rhegians, Locrians, Zancleans, and Greeks,
it must have been formidable ; for, even in the
present day, small craft are sometimes endan-
gered by it; and I have seen several men-of-war,
and even a seventy-four-gun ship, whirled round
on its surface ; but, by using due caution, there
is generally very little danger or inconvenience
to be apprehended. It appears to be an agitated
water, of from seventy to ninety fathoms in
depth, circling in quick eddies. It is owing,
probably, to the meeting of the harbour, and
lateral currents, with the main one, the latter
being forced over, in this direction, by the op-
posite point of Pezzo. This agrees, in some
measure, with the relation of Thucydides, who
calls it a violent reciprocation of the Tyrrhene
and Sicilian Seas ; and he is the only writer ot
remote antiquity I remember to have read who
has assigned this danger its true situation, and
not exaggerated its effect. Many wonderful
stories are told respecting this vortex, particu-
larly some, said to have been related by the ce-
lebrated diver Colas, who lost his life here.' See
also our article MEDITERRANEAN.
SCY
704
SDE
SYCROS, in ancient geography, an island in
the ^gean Sea, at the distance of about twenty-
eight miles north-east from Euboea. Fifty miles
in circumference. It was originally in the pos-
session of the Pelasgians and Carians. Achilles
retired thither to avoid going to the Trojan war,
and became father of Neoptoleraus by Deidamia,
the daughter of king Lycomedes. Scyros was
conquered by the Athenians under Cimon. It
was very rocky and barren. It is now called
Sciro.
SCYTALA LACOXICA, in antiquity, a strata-
gem of the Lacedemonians, for the secret writing
of letters, so that, if they should chance to be in-
tercepted, nobody might be able to read them. —
To this end they had two wooden cylinders, per-
fectly alike and equal ; one of which was kept in
the city, the other by the person to whom the
letter was directed. A skin of very thin parch-
ment was wrapped round Ihe roller, in which the
letter was written ; which done, it was taken off,
and sent away to the party, who, upon putting it
in the same manner upon his roller, found the
lines and words in the same order as when they
were first written. This expedient they set a
a very high value on ; though, in truth, artless and
simple enough.
SCYTALIA, in botany, a genus of the mono-
gynia order, and octandria class of plants : CAL.
very short, monophyllous, and somewhat quin-
quedentated : COR. pentapetalous ; filaments
hairy at the base; berry unilocular : SEED one of
a soft pulpy consistence. There is only one
species, viz.
S. sinensis, a native of China and the East
Indies.
SCYTHES, in fabulous history, the son of Ju-
piter and Tellus, who was half man half serpent.
According to Diodorus he became king of the
country, called from him Scythia.
SCYTIIIA, an ancient name for the northern
parts of Asia, now called Tartary, and also for
some of the north-east parts of Europe. This
vast territory, which extends from the Ister or
Danube, the boundary of the Celts, that is, from
about 2.5°, to nearly 100° long. E., was divided
into Scythia in Europe, and Scythia in Asia, in-
cluding the two Sarmatias, or Sauromatias. Sar-
matia was divided from the European Scythia by
the Don or Tanais, which falls into the Palus
Meotis ; and from the Asiatic by the Rha, now
the NVolga, which runs into the Caspian Sea.
SCYTHIA ASIATICA, the Asiatic Scythia, com-
prehended, in general, Tartary, and Russia in
Asia. As for Sarmatia, it contained Albania,
Iberia, and Colchis ; which makes now the Cir-
cassian Tartary, and the province of Georgia.
SCYTHIA EUROP^A, Scythia in Europe,
reached towards the south-west, to the Po and
the Alps, by which it was divided from Celto-
Gallia. It was bounded on the south by the
Ister or Danube and the Euxine Sea. Its northern
limits have been supposed to stretch to the
spring-heads of the Boristhenes or Nieper, and
the Rha or Wolga, and so to those of the Ta-
nais. The ancients divided this country into
Scythia Arimaspaea, which lay east, joining
to Scythia in Asia; and Sarmatia Europeana
on the west. In Scythia, properly so called,
were the Arimaspi on the north, the Getaj or Da-
cians along the Danube on the south, and the
Neuri between these two : so that it contained
European Russia, and the Lesser Crim Tartary
on the ea$t, and on the west Lithuania, Poland,
part of Hungary, Transylvania, Walachia, Bul-
garia, and Moldavia. The ancient geographers
divided the west part of Sweden and Norway
from Northern Germany, by the Mare Sarmati-
cum or Scythicum, which they supposed ran up
into the Northern Ocean, and, dividing Lapland
into two parts, formed the western part of Swe-
den, with Norway, into one island, and Finland
into another; supposing this also to be cut oft"
from the continent by the gulf of that name.
SCYTHIANS, the natives of Scythia. Although
the ancient Scythians were celebrated as a war-
like people, yet their history is too uncertain
and obscure to enable us to give any detail which
would prove interesting. See the very opposite
accounts given of the ancient Scythians, by He-
rodotus and Justin under SCULPTURE. Hist. Mr.
Pinkerton, in a dissertation on their origin, en-
deavours to prove that they were the most
ancient of nations ; and he assigns for the place
of their first habitation the country known by the
name of Persia. From Persia, he thinks, they pro-
ceeded in numerous hordes westward, surround-
ed the Euxine, peopled Germany, Italy, Gaul,
the countries bordering on the Baltic, with part
of Britain and Ireland. That the Scythians were
of Asiatic origin cannot, we think, be questioned ;
and, as Persia was peopled at a very early period,
it may not improbably have been their parent
country ; but when our author contends that
their empire had subsisted for more than 1500
years before Ninus the founder of the Assyrian
monarchy, and that it extended from Egypt to
the Ganges, and from the Persian Gulf and
Indian Sea to the Caspian, we cannot help think-
ing that his prejudices against the Celts, and his
desire to do honor to his favorite Goths, have
made him advance a paradox inconsistent with
the most authentic records of antiquity. His
dissertation, however, is ingenious, and replete
with a variety of curious learning.
SCYTHROPS, a generic name given by Mr.
Latham to a bird of which hitherto but one spe-
cies has been observed. It is about the size of a
crow, and two feet three inches in length. The
bill is large, convex, furrowed on the sides, and
bent at the tip; the nostrils are placed at the
base of it, and the tongue is cloven at the end.
The general color of the plumage is a brownish
ash, but the tip of each feather of the back,
wings, and tail, is black. The tail has each fea-
ther banded with black at the end, and the tip
itself white ; but the inner webs of the feather
are marked with black and white bands. The
toes are placed two forwards and two back-
wards, as in the parrot genus. This curious bird
is a native of New Holland.
SDEIGN, r. a. Ital. sdegnare. Used HJr
Spenser and Milton for disdain.
They DOW, puft up with sdeignfnl in?o!.:rce,
Despise the brood of blessed sapience. S^ente :
Lifted up so high,
I xleigned subjection. Milton.
SEA
705
SEA
SEA, n. s. SEAHOLM',
SEA'BF.AT, adj. SEAHORSE',
SEA'BOAT, n, s. SEA'MAID,
SEA'BORN, adj. SEA'MAN,
SEA'BOY, n. s. SEA'MARK,
SEA'BRFACH, SEA'MEW,
SEA'BREEZE, SEAMON STER,
SEA'EUILT, adj. SEA'NYMPH,
SEACAB'BACE, n. s. SEA'OOZE,
SEA'CALF, SEA'PIECE,
SEA'CAP, SEA'POOL,
SEA'CHART, SEA'PORT,
SEA'COAL, SEA'RISK,
SEA'COAST, SEA'ROOM,
SEACOM'PASS, SEASER'VICE,
SEA'COW, SEA'SHARK,
SEA'DOG, SEA'SHELL,
SEA'FARER, SEASHORE',
SEA'FARING, adj. SEA'SICK,
SEA'FTGHT, n. s SEASIDE,
SEA'FOWL, SEASUR'GEON,
SEA'GIRT, adj. SEASURROUND'ED,
SEA'GREEN, n. s. SEA'TERM,
SEA'GULL, SEA'WATER,
SEAHEDGE'HOG, SEA'WEED.
SEAHOL LY,
Sax. pae; Goth. s<£ ; Belg. zee; Teut. see. The
ocean; the water of the earth as opposed to the
land ; any collection of waters ; a lake ; a large
quantity of any fluid ; any thing rough or tem-
pestuous : ' half-seas-over' is half-drunk. None
of the compounds appear to require any further
explanation than the extracts in which they occur
will supply.
He made the sea, and all that is therein.
Exodus xx. 11.
Their camels were without number, as the sand
by the seaside. Judges vii. 12.
Seamonsters gave suck to their young.
Lamentations ivl 3.
By the sea of Galilee. Matthew iv. 18.
The sovereign of the seas he blames in vain,
That once seabeat will to sea again.
Spenser's Pastorals.
The venturous mariner that way,
Learning his ship from those white rocks to save,
Which all along the southern seacoast lay,
For safety's sake that same his seamark made,
And named it Albion. Faerie Queene.
Those white rocks,
Which all along the southern seacoast lay,
Threatening unheedy wreck and rash decay.
He for his safety's sake his seamark made,
And named it Albion. Id.
I heard it wished, that all that land were a sea~
pool. Spenser.
Barbarossa was not able to come on shore, for
that he was, as they said, seasick, and troubled with
an ague. Knolles.
U ill all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood
Clean from my hand 1 No, this my hand will rather
Thy multitudinous spi incarnadine,
Making the green one red. Shakspeare. Macbeth.
Canst thou, O partial sleep ! give thy repose
To the wet teaboy in an hour so rude,
And in the calmest and the stillest night
D^ny it to a king 7 Shakspeare.
My wife fastened him unto a small spare mast,
Such as seafaring men provide for storms. Id.
I know your favour well,
Though now you have no seacav on your head. Id
VOL. XIX.
We'll have a posset soon at the latter end of a sea-
coal fire. /</.
Certain stars shot from their spheres,
To hear the seamaids' musick. Id.
Though you do see me weaponed,
Here is my journey's end, here is my butt,
The very seamark of my utmost sail. Id. Othello.
Witches mummy, maw and gulf
Of the ravening salt seashark. Shaksptare.
She began to be much seasick, extremity of wea-
ther continuing. Id.
The needle in the seacompass still moving but to
the north point only, with moveor immotus, notified
the respective constancy of the gentleman to one
only. Camden's Remains.
Seafights have been often final to the war ; but
this is when princes set up their rest upon the battles.
Bacon.
Seagulls, when they flock together from the sea
towards the shores, foreshow rain and wind.
Id. Natural History.
Seacoal lasts longer than charcoal. Bacon.
They were executed at divers places upon the sea*
coast, for seamarks or lighthouses, to teach Perkin's
people to avoid the coast. Id. Henry VII.
There is searoom enough for both nations, without
offending one another. Id. Advice to Villiers.
By digging of pits in the seashore, he did frustrate
the laborious works of the enemies, which had turned
the seawater upon the wells of Alexandria.
Id. Natural History.
So do the winds and thunders cleanse the air,
So working seas settle and purge the wine. Davies.
The rivers run into the sea. Careio.
They stiffly refused to vail their bonnets by the
summons of those towns, which is reckoned in-
tolerable contempt by the better enabled seafarers.
Id.
The seahedgehog is inclosed in a round shell,
fashioned as a loaf of bread, wrought and pinched,
and guarded by an outer skin full of prickles, as the
land urchin. Id.
Cornwall bringeth forth greater store of seaholm
and samphire than any other county. Id.
That sea of blood, which hath in Ireland been bar-
barously shed, is enough to drown in eternal infamy
and misery the malicious author and instigator of its
effusion. King Charles.
This pulmonique indisposition of the air is very
much heightened, where a great quantity of seacoal
is burnt. Harvey.
She, looking out,
Beholds the fleet, and hears the seamen shout.
Denham.
Amphibious between sea and land,
The river horse. Milton.
To sorrow abandoned, but worse felt within,
And in a troubled sea of passion tossed. Id.
Neptune, besides the sway
Of every salt flood and each ebbing stream,
Took in by lot, 'twixt high and nether Jove,
Imperial rule of all the seagirt isles. Id.
An island salt and bare,
The haunt of seals, and orcks, and seamews clang.
Id.
Where luxury lately reigned, seamonsters whelp.
Id.
Like Neptune and his teaborn niece, shall be
The shining glories of the land and sea. Waller.
The bigger whale like some huge carrack lay,
Which wanteth searoom with her foes to play. Id.
But like a rock unmoved, a rock that braves
The raging tempest and the rising waves,
2 Z
SEA
706
SEA
Propped on himself he stands : his solid sides
Wash off the seaweeds, and the sounding tides.
Dry den.
All these in order march, and marching sing
The warlike actions of their seaborn sing. Id.
Borne each by other in a distant line,
The seabuitt forts in dreadful order move. Id.
Seahortet floundering in the slimy mud,
Tossed up their heads, and dashed the ooze about
'em. Id.
/Enc?<s ordered
A stately tomb, whose top a tnimpet bore,
A soldier's falchion, and a seaman's oar ;
Thus was his fnend interred. Id.
The fault of others sway
He set as seama-lu for himself to shun. Id.
That seashore where no more world is found,
But foaming billows breaking on the ground. Id.
In love's voyage, nothing can offend ;
Women are never seasick. Id. Juvenal.
To an impetuous woman, tempests and seabi-eaches
are nothing. V Estrange.
If our sense of hearing were a thousand times
quicker than it is, we should, in the quietest retiie-
ment, be less able to sleep than in the middle of a
seajight. Locke.
White, red, yellow, blue, with their mixtures, as
green, scarlet, purple, and seagreen, come in by the
eyes. Id.
Seals live at land and at sea, and porpuses have
the warm blood and intrails of a hog, not to mention
mermaids or teamen. Id.
To say a man has a clear idea of any quantity,
without knowing how great it is, is as reasonable as
to say he has the positive idea of the number of the
sands on the seashore. Id.
Hedges, in most places, would be of great ad-
vantage to shelter the grass from the Seabreeze.
Mortimer.
Upon the seacoast are many parcels of land, that
would pay well for the taking in. Id. Husbandry.
Bitterns, herons, and seaguUs, are great enemies
to fish. Id.
SeashelU are great improvers of sour or cold land.
Mortimer.
All seaooze, or oozy mud, and the mud oi rivets,
are of great advantage to all sorts of land. Id.
The seacalf, or seal, so called from the noise he
makes like a calf : his head comparatively not big,
shaped rather like an otter's, with teeth like a dog's,
and mustaches like those of a cat : his body long,
and all over hairy : his fore feet, with ringers clawed,
but not divided, yet fit for going ; his hinder feet,
more properly fins, and fitter for swimming, being
an amphibious animal. Grew's Musaeum.
Fournier gives an account of an earthquake in
Peru, that reached three hundred leagues along the
seat/tore. But-net.
The whole magistracy was pretty well disguised
before I gave 'em the slip : our friend the alderman
was half seas over before the bonfire was out. •
Spectator.
Had they applied themselves to the increase of
their strength by s«a, they might hare had the great-
est fleet, and the most seamen, of any state in Europe.
Addison.
Painters often employ their pencils upon seapiece*.
Id.
Small fragments of shells, broken by storms on
some shores, are used for manuring of sea land.
Woodward.
Part of a large tooth, round and tapering : a tusk
of the morse, or waltrons, called by some the sea-
'ufr.-e Id.
They put to sea vith a fleet of three hundred sail.
Arhuthnot.
Shipwrecks were occasioned by their ships being
bad seabixtti, and themselves but indifferent seamen.
Id.
It was death to divert the ships of seafaring people,
against their will, to other uses than they were ap-
pointed. Id.
This fleet they recruited with two hundred sail,
whereof they lost ninety-three in a seajight.
Id. on Coins.
He was so great an encourager of commerce that
he charged himself with all the searisque of sucli
vessels as carried corn to Rome in the winter.
Arbuthnflt.
My design was to help the seasurgeon.
Wiseman's Surgery.
The bills of curlews, and many other seafowl, are
very long, to enable them to hunt for the worms.
Derham.
The sea could not be much narrower than it is,
without a great loss to the world. Bentley.
Fierce seadogs devour the mangled friends.
Roscammon.
So when the first bold vessel dared the seas,
High on the stern the Thracian raised his strain,
While Argo saw her kindred trees
Descend from Pelion to the main. Pvpe.
Darkness covered o'er
The face of things ; along the seabeat shore
Satiate we slept. Id. Odyssey.
A wandering merchant, he frequents the main,
Some mean seafarer in pursuit of gain ;
Studious of freight, in naval trade well skilled,
But dreads the' athletick labours of the field. Pope.
A length of ocean and unbounded sky,
Which scarce the seafowl in a year o'er-fly.
Upon his urn reclined,
His seagreen mantle waving in the wind,
The god appeared.
Telemachus, the blooming heir
Of seagirt Ithaca, demands my care :
Tis mine to form his green unpractised years
In sage debates. Id
The chough, the seamew, the loquacious crow,
Scream aloft. Id. Odyssey
There disembarking on the green seaside,
We land our cattle and the spoil divide. Pope.
To seasurrounded realms the gods assign
Small tract of fertile lawn, the least to mine. Id.
I agree with you in your censure of the teaterms in
Dryden's Virgil, because no terms of art or cant
words suit the majesty of epick poetry. Id.
You were pressed for the seasenire and got off with
much ado. Swift's Directions to Servants.
Weary and seasick, when in thee confined ;
Now, for thy safety, cares distract my mind. Su-ift.
A seafowl properly represents the passage of a
deity over the seas. Kroome.
Seawater has many gross, rough, and earthy par-
ticles in it, as appears from its saltness ; whereas fresh
water is more pure and unmixt. 1<I.
Virgil, after Homer's example, gives us a trans-
formation of vKneas's ships into teanymphs. Id.
The situations of the parts of the earth are better
learned by a map or seachart, than reading the de-
scription. Walli
Seamen, through dismal storms, are wont
To pass the oyster-breeding Hellespont. Evelyn.
The seacow is of the cetaceous kind. It grows to
fifteen feet long, and to seven or eight in circum-
feieuce : its head is like that of a hog, but longer
and more cylindrick : its eyes are small, and it has
no external ears, but only two little apertures. Its
lips are thick, and it has two long tusks stanaing
Id.
Id.
S E A.
707
Out. It has two fins, which stand forward on the
breast like hands, whence the Spaniards called it
manatee. The female has two round breasts placed
between the pectoral fins. The skin is very thick
and hard, and not scaly, but hairy. Hill's Mat. JUed.
The species are teaholly, or eryngo. Common
eryngo. The roots of the first are candied, and sent
to London for medicinal use, being the true eryngo.
Id.
SEA, in a strict sense, signifies a large portion
of water almost surrounded by land, as the Baltic
and Mediterranean seas ; but it is frequently
used for that vast body of water which encom-
passes the whole earth.
What proportion the superficies of the sea
hears to that of the land cannot be ascertained
with exactness. Buffon has supposed that the
surface of our globe is equally divided between
land and water, and has accordingly calculated
the superficies of the sea to be 85,490,506 square
miles. But it is now well known that the ocean
covers more than the half of the earth's surface.
The French naturalist believed in the existence
of a vast southern continent, which captain Cook
has shown to be visionary. It was this "ircum-
stance which misled him. The sea occupies, ac-
cording to Le Brun and the best modern writers,
about six-tenths of the earth's surface. See our
articles OCEAN and GEOGRAPHY. To ascertain
the depth of the sea is still more difficult than
its superficies, both on account of the numerous
experiments which it would be necessary to make,
and the want of proper instruments for that pur-
pose. The sea is often found unfathomable ; and,
though several methods have been contrived to
average its depth, none of them has completely
answered the purpose. We know in general
that the depth of the sea increases gradually as
we leave the shore ; but, if this continued beyond
a certain distance, the depth in the middle of
the ocean would be prodigious. Indeed, the nu-
merous islands every where scattered in the sea
demonstrate the contrary, by showing us that the
bottom of the water is unequal like the land,
and that, so far from uniformly sinking, it some-
times rises into lofty mountains. If the depth
of the sea be in proportion to the elevation of
the land, as has been generally supposed, its
greatest depth will not excee'd five or six miles,
for there is no mountain six miles perpendicular
above the level of the sea. The sea has never
been actually sounded to a depth much exceeding
a mile ; every thing beyond therefore rests en-
tirely upon conjecture and analogical reasoning,
which ought never to be admitted to determine
a single point that can be ascertained by experi-
ment. Along the coasts, where the depth of the
sea is in general well known, it has ahvays been
found proportioned to the height of the shore :
when the coast is high and mountainous, the sea
that washes it is deep; when, on the contrary,
the coast is low, the water is shallow. Whether
this analogy holds at a distance from the shore,
experiments alone can determine.
To calculate the quantity of water contained
in the sea, while its depth is unknown, is of
course impossible. But, if we suppose with
Buffon, that its medium depth is the fourth part
of a mile, the ocean, if its superficies be
128,235,759 square miles, will then contain
32,058,939,75 cubic miles of water. Let us
now endeavour to compute the quantity of wa-
ter which is constantly discharged into the sea.
For this purpose let us take a river whose velo-
city and quantity of water is known, the Po for
instance, which according to Riccioli is 1000 feet
(or 100 perches of Boulogne) broad, ten feet
deep, and runs at the rate of four miles in au
hour consequently that river discharges into the
sea 200,000 cubic perches of water in an hour,
or 4,800,000 in a day. A cubic mile con-
tains 125,000,000 cubic perches; the Po there-
fore will take twenty-six days to discharge a
cubic mile of water into the sea. Let us now
suppose, what is perhaps not very far from the
truth, that the quantity of water which the sea
receives from the rivers in any country is pro-
portioned to the extent of that country. The
Po, from its origin to its mouth, traverses a
country 380 miles long, and the rivers which fall
into it on every side rise from sources about
sixty miles distant from it. The Po therefore,
and the rivers which it receives, water a country
of 45,600 square miles. Now, since the whole
superficies of the dry land is about 42,745,253
square miles, it fohows, from our supposition,
that the quantity of water discharged by all the
rivers in the world, in one day, is thirty-six cubic
miles, and in a year 13,140. If therefore the
sea contains 32,058,939 cubic miles of water, it
would take all the rivers in the world 2439 years
to discharge an equal quantity.
It may seem surprising that the sea, since it is
continually receiving an immense supply of water,
does not visibly increase, and at last cover the whole
earth. But our surprise will cease, if we con-
sider that the rivers themselves are supplied from
the sea, and that they do nothing more than carry
back those waters which the ocean is continually
lavishing upon the earth. Dr. Halley has de-
monstrated that the vapors raised from the sea,
and transported upon land, are sufficient to main-
tain all the rivers in the world. The simplicity
of this great process is astonishing ; the sea not
only connects distant countries, and renders it
easy to transport the commodities of one nation
to another, but its waters rising in the air descend
in showers to fertilise the earth, and nourish the
vegetable kingdom; and, collecting into rivers,
flow onwards, bringing fertility, and wealth, and
commerce, along with them, and again return to
the sea to repeat the same round. The know-
ledge of this process of nature might, one would
think, have convinced philosophers that the pro-
portion between sea and land continued always
nearly the same. They however have formed
different theories about this as well as most other
subjects, maintaining on the one hand that the
sea is continually encroaching on the land, and,
on the other, that the land is constantly gaining
on the sea. Both sides have supported their
theories by arguments, demonstrations, and in-
controvertible facts ! The height of the moun-
tains, say the philosophers who support the
encroachments of the sea, is continually diminish-
ing; exposed to the violence of every storm, the
hardest rocks must at last give way and tumble
down. The rivers are continually sweeping
2 Z 2
08
SEA.
along with them particles of earth which they
deposit in the bottom of the sea. Both the depth
of the ocean then, and the height of the dry
lard, must be always decreasing; the waters
therefore roust, unless a part of them were anni-
hilated, spread over a greater extent of surface
in proportion as these causes operate. This rea-
soning, convincing as it is, might be confirmed
by a great number of facts : it will be suffi-
cient, however, to mention one or two. In the
reign of Augustus, the Isle of Wight made a part
of Britain, so that the English crossed over to it
at low water with cart loads of tin : yet that is-
land is at present separated from Britain by a
channel half a mile wide* The Godwin sands
on the eastern shore of England were formerly
the fertile estate of earl Godwin. Nor are the
encroachments of the sea confined to Britain.
In the bay of Baise, near Naples, there are re-
mains of nouses and streets still visible below
the present level of the sea. The sea therefore
is making continual encroachments upon the
land ; and the time will come, say they, when
the waters will again cover the surface of the
earth. Such are the arguments of those philo-
sophers who maintain the continual encroach-
ments of the sea. Those who maintain the op-
posite theory, that the land is continually gaining
on the sea, though they pretend not to deny the
facts advanced by their opponents, affirm that
they are altogether insufficient to establish their
hypothesis. Though the rivers carry down par-
ticles of earth into the sea, these, say they, are
either accumulated on other shores, or, collect-
ing in the bottom of the ocean, harden into stone,
which, being possessed of a vegetative power,
rises by degrees above the surface of the sea,
and form rocks, and mountains, and islands.
The vegetative nature of stone indeed is suffi-
cient, of itself, to convince us that the quantity
of earth must be daily accumulating, and conse-
quently that the surface of the sea is dimi-
nishing in extent. Celsius, a Swedish philoso-
pher (for this dispute has been carried on in
Sweden with the greatest keenness), has endea-
voured to build this theory with more solid
materials than vegetable stone. In a curious
memoir, published in 1743, he asserts that the
Baltic and the Atlantic, at least that part of it
which washes Norway, is constantly diminishing;
and he proves this by the testimony of many
aged pilots and fishermen, who affirmed that the
sea was become much shallower in many places
than it had been during their youth ; that many
rocks formerly covered with water were now
several feet above the surface of the sea ; that
loaded vessel.s used formerly to ride in many
places where pinnaces and barks could now with
difficulty swim. He produces instances of
ancient sea-port towns now several leagues from
the shore, and of anchors and wrecks of vessels
found far within the country. He mentions a
particular rock, which 168 years before was at
the bottom of the sea, but was then raised eight
feet above its surface. In another place, where
the water fifty years before had reached to the
knee, there was then none. Several rocks too,
which, during the infancy of some old pilots,
had been two fret under wnter, were then three
feet alwve it. From all these obserrations, M.
Celsius concludes that the water of the Baltic
decreases in height four lines and a half in a
year, four inches five lines in eighteen years,
four feet five inches in 100 years, and in 1000
years forty-five feet. Conscious, however, that
these facts, how conclusive soever as far as
relates to the Baltic, can never determine the
general question, M. Celsius advances another
argument in support of his theory. All that
quantity of moisture, says he, which is imbibed
by plants, is lost to the general mass of water,
being converted into earth by the putrefaction of
vegetables. This notion had been mentioned by
Newton, and was adopted by Van Helmont ; if
granted, it follows as a consequence that the
earth is continually increasing, and the water
diminishing in a very rapid degree. Such are
the arguments advanced in support of both
theories ; for it is needless to mention a notion
of Linnaeus, that the whole earth was formerly
covered with water, except a single mountain.
When fairly weighed they amount to nothing
more than this, that the sea has encroached upon
the land in some places, and retired in others ;
a conclusion which we are very willing to allow.
What was advanced by those philosophers who
maintain that the sea is continually encroaching
on the land, about the depth of the sea con-
stantly diminishing, must remain a mere asser-
tion till they prove by experiments, either that it
is really the case, or that nature has no way of
restoring those particles of earth which are
washed down by the rivers. Nor have they any
good reason to affirm that the height of the
mountains is decreasing. Can a single instance
be produced ? Are the Alps or the Appennines,
or Taurus, or Caucasus, less lofty now than they
were 1 000 years ago ? We mean not to deny
that the rain actually washes down particles of
earth from the mountains, nor to affirm that the
hardest rocks are able to resist continual storms,
nor that many mountains have suffered, and con-
tinue to suffer daily, from a thousand accidents.
But the effects produced by all these causes are
so trifling as to be altogether imperceptible.
Nature has assiduously guarded against such
accidents; she has formed the mountains of the
mo*t durable materials; and, where they are
covered with earth, she has bound it together by
a thick and firm matting of grass, and thus se-
cured it from the rains ; and should accident
deprive it of this covering, she takes care imme-
diately to supply the defect. Even should the
earth be swept away, together with its coveting,
nature has still such resources left as frequently
restore things to their former state. Many kinds
of moss, one would be tempted to think, have
been created for this very purpose; they take
root and flourish almost upon the bare rock, and
furnish as they decay a sufficient bed for several
of the hardy Alpine plants. These perish in
their turn, and others succeed them. The roots
of the plants bind fast the earth as it accumu-
lates, more plants spring up and spread wider,
till by degrees the whole' surface is covered with
a firm coat of grass. Even the rain, which
always contains in it a good deal of earth, con-
tributes something to hasten tlie process. As
S E A.
-09
t'ie vegetation of stone is now, we believe, given
up by all parties, it is needless to take any far-
ther notice of it here. See STONE. The hypo-
thesis of M. Celsius, that water is converted into
mrth, has also shared the same fate, because it
\vas unsupported by experiment, and contrary to
every thing that we know either about earth or
water. It is a little extraordinary that philoso-
phers have been so lavish of water as to convert
it in this manner into stone and earth, when
they had given it, one would think, sufficient
employment before in making new worlds, and
in confuting Moses.
The sea contains the greatest quantity of salt
in the torrid gone, where otherwise, from the
excessive heat, it would be in danger of putre-
faction ; as we advance northward this quantity
diminishes, till at the pole it nearly vanishes
altogether. Under the line Lucas found that the
sea contained a seventh part of solid contents,
consisting chiefly of sea salt. At Harwich he
found it yielded one-twenty-fifth of sea-salt. At
Carlscroon, in Sweden, it contains one-thirtieth
part, and on the coast of Greenland a great deal
less. This deficiency of salt near the poles pro-
bably contributes a good deal towards the pro-
digious quantities of ice which are met with in
these seas ; for salt water requires a much
greater degree of cold to freeze it than fresh
water. It was this circumstance, probably,
together with its constant motion, which induced
the ancients to believe that the sea never froze.
Even among the moderns, it has been a generally
received opinion that sea-ice is originally formed
in rivers. Buftbn has made the great quantities
of ice with which the South Sea abounds an ar-
gument for the existence of a continent nearer
the Antarctic pole. But it is now well known
that great quantities of ice are formed at a dis-
tance from land. Sea-ice is of two kinds : field-
ice which extends along the shore, and is only
two or three feet thick ; and mountain ice, which
abounds in the middle of the ocean. The size
of these mountains is sometimes prodigious.
The sea-ice is always fresh, and lias been often
of great use to navigators. The weight of sea-
water is to that of river water as seventy-three to
seventy ; that is, a cubic foot of sea-water weighs
seventy-three pounds, while the same quantity
of riVer-water weighs only seventy pounds ; but
this proportion varies in different places. It is
worthy of our attention, too, that the water at
the surface of the sea contains less salt than near
the bottom ; the difference indeed is inconsider-
able, but still it is something. The compte de
Marsigli found the same quantity of water, when
taken from the bottom of the Mediterranean, to
weigh one ounce, three penny-weights, fifty-one
grains ; whereas from the surface it weighed only
one ounce, three penny-weights, forty-nine grains.
He repeated the experiment frequently with
nearly the same result ; but see OCEAN.
As the sea covers so great a portion of the
globe, we should, no doubt, by exploring its
bottom, discover a vast number of interesting
particulars. Unfortunately, in the greater part
of the ocean, this has hitherto been impossible.
Part, however, has been examined; and the dis-
coveries which this examination has produced.
may enable us to form some idea of the whole.
The bottom of the sea bears a* great resemblance
to the surface of the dry land, being, like it, full
of plains, rocks, caverns, and mountains; some
of which are abrupt, and almost perpendicular,
while others rise with a gentle declivity, and
sometimes tower above the water, and form
islands. Neither do the materials differ which
compose the bottom of the sea, and the basis of
the dry land. If we dig to a considerable depth
in any part of the earth, we uniformly meet with
rock; the same thing holds in the sea. The
strata, too, are of the same kind, disposed in the
same manner, and form indeed but one whole.
The same kind of mineral and bituminous sub-
stances are also found interspersed with these
strata ; and it is to them probably that the sea is
indebted for its bitter taste. Over these natural
and original strata, an artificial bed has pretty
generally been formed, composed of different
materials in different places. It consists fre-
quently of muddy tartareous substances firmly
cemented together, sometimes of shells or coral
reduced to powder, and near the mouths of
rivers it is generally composed of fine sand or
gravel. The bottom of the sea resembles the
land likewise in another particular; many fresh
springs, and even rivers rise out of it, which, dis-
placing the salt water, render the lower part of
sea, wherever they abound, quite fresh. An
instance of this kind occurs near Goa, on the
western coast of Indostan, and another in the
Mediterranean Sea. not far from Marseilles.
These facts occasioned a notion, which later
experiments have exploded, that the sea beyon-l
a certain depth was always fresh. Substances
of i very beautiful appearance are frequently
brought up by the sounding line from the bottom
of the sea. The plummet is hollowed below,
and this cavity filled with tallow, to which some
of the substances adhere which form the bed of
the ocean. These are generally sand, gravel,
or mud ; but they are sometimes of the brightest
scarlet, vermilion, purple, and yellow ; and
sometimes, though less frequently, they are blue,
green, or white. These colors are owing to a
kind of jelly which envelopes the substances,
and vanish entirely as soon as this jelly dries.
At times, however, they assume the appearance
of tartareous crusts, and are then so permanent
that they can be received into white wax melted
and poured round them, and perhaps by proper
care might be converted into valuable paints.
For the temperature, color, &c., of the sea, and
other interesting phenomena respecting it, see
the articles OCEAN and GEOGRAPHY.
\Ve have to add however the result of some
interesting experiments on the specific gravity
of sea-water by Dr. Traill of Liverpool, and
some remarks on the same subject, and on the
temperature of the sea at different depths, made
by Dr. J. C. Horner, the naturalist to the expe-
dition of discovery lately undertaken by Kot-
zebue : —
' In the course of some experiments on the
specific gravity of different fluids.' says the first
of these gentlemen, ' I had occasion to examine
sea-water drawn in different latitudes, and from
various depths in the Atlantic Ocean. The re-
710
SEA.
suit is somewhat remarkable; and, though the
number of my experiments may not entitle me
to deduce from them a general law, yet their
publication may excite the attention of those who
have opportunities of repeating them. The
specimens of sea-water were procured at my
request by nautical friends some time ago ; but
all were taken up within the same year. Each
specimen filled a common glass bottle, and had
a label immediately affixed to it, indicating the
place where it was obtained. The water, from
considerable depths, for want of better appa-
ratus, was procured by the following contri-
vance. It was found that a bottle might be so
corked as to prevent the admission of water,
until the pressure of the superincumbent co-
lumn, on sinking it by an attached weight, pushed
the cork inwards, when the escape of the air,
and the filling of the bottle with water, again
forced the cork into its neck, and thus obviated
the change of displacement of the included wa-
ter, as the bottle was drawn upward. The pres-
sure required to force the cork being ascertained
by previous experiment, the bottle, thus pre-
pared, was sunk to the requisite depth ; and,
after remaining there for half an hour or more,
was drawn up and immediately secured.
' My experiments were carefully conducted
by means of a delicate balance, and a thin flask,
capable of holding upwards of 1050 grains of
distilled water, when its ground stopper was
adjusted. A bottle of distilled water, and all
the specimens of sea-water, were reduced to the
same temperature, by being placed for many
days on the same table, in a room without a fire ;
and, to prevent error from this source, each liquid
was examined by a good thermometer previously
to the experiment. The weight of the distilled
water bearing the same ratio to the weight of an
equal volume of the other fluids, as 1-0000 to the
sought specific gravities, is the simple formula
from which the following table is deduced : —
Table of Specific Gravities at Temperature 51°
Fahrenheit.
1. Sea-water drawn from the surface, lat. 47°
47' N., long. 10° 40' W. . = 1-0277
2. Ditto from die depth of forty fathoms, ditto,
ditto ....=: 1-0280
3. Ditto from the surface, lat. 37° N., long. 9°
W. off Cape St. Vincent . = 1-0281
4. Ditto from the surface, Maderia, bearing
north-east distance, sixteen leag« esn 1-0284
5. Ditto from the depth of forty fatnoms in the
same spot = 1-0286
6. Ditto from the depth of thirty-six fathoms,
lat. 26° N., long. 64° W., during a voyage
to Demerara = 1-0287
7. Ditto from the surface, lat. 92° 11' N., longi-
tude not given ; but, as it was in the same
voyage as No. 6, it was probably more, to
the west = 1-0289
8. Ditto from the surface, lat. 8° 20* N., longi-
tude not given ; but as the three last num-
bers were obtained in the same voyage to
Demerara, and this one, at my request, was
taken when the captain supposed that he
would make land in a day or two, there can
i be little doubt of the ship being at this time
just off the mouth of the Orinoco — 1-0267
In calculating these specific gravities, I had
carried them to several decimal places farther ;
but I have suppressed these in the Table, be-
cause it might appear an affectation of accuracy
which the case does not admit ; for the differ-
ence of a single one-tenth of a grain in weighing
each fluid in the above experiments, would make
a difference of nearly jgjjggth in their specific
gravities ; or would alter the last figure of the
present decimal series.
The inferences to which these experiments lead
are, 1st. That the specific gravity of the waters
of the Atlantic increases as we approach the
equator. 2d. That the specific gravity of sea-
water increases with the depth from which it is
drawn.
The only exception in the table to the first in-
ference is No. 8 ; but the great diminution of
density here observed is undoubtedly owing to
the vast mass of rushing water poured into the
ocean by the Orinoco, the stream of which is
said to discolor the sea many leagues from land,
and at a considerable distance from the shore to
preserve the freshness of its current.
The results of captain Scoresby's experiments,
on the specific gravity of sea-water, seem to
agree with the inferences above mentioned. This
intelligent navigator found that the density of
the waters of the ocean, near the meridian of
Greenwich, gradually diminished from lat. 57°
42' N., to lat. 66° 45'; being at the former
1-0280, at the latter 1-0263. In higher lati-
tudes, or in confined seas, we cannot expect to
find a uniformity in such results ; for the influ-
ence of the ice in the one, and of situation in
the other, are sufficient to conceal such minute
differences. On referring to his valuable work,
an examination of his experiments on the den-
sity of sea- water, at different depths, will con-
firm also the second inference. The few excep-
tions to it in captain Scoresby's Table may be
explained by the influence of currents, and irre-
gularities produced by the neighbourhood of ice,
which is known to exercise a powerful influence
on the atmosphere, and on the waters. In the
prosecution of this interesting subject, no in-
strument appears more admirably adapted to
procure water from any required depth, without
chance of error, than that gentleman's marine
diver; which, with simplicity of construction,
unites every property that can insure accuracy and
convenience in those delicate investigations for
which it was intended by its ingenious contriver.
' I am at a loss, adds this writer, what reason
to assign for the increased density of water
brought up from considerable depths; unless,
according to a suggestion offered by my friend
Dr. Brewster, it may be owing to the imperfect
elasticity of water, which prevents its particles,
when compressed by the superincumbent co-
lumn, from regaining their original condition,
when the pressure is removed. A curious series
of experiments might be made on the mecha-
nical compression of wnter, by employing the
bathometer of Mr. Perkins, the inventor of the
method of multiplying copper-plates by engra-
ving <>ii sipi-l. In this machine, water enclosed
in ;i brass tube, the sides of which need not ex
ceed one-tentli of an inch in thickness, is com-
SEA.
711
pressed by a solid piston, sliding in a leather
collar, and acted on by the superincumbent co-
lumn when sunk in the depths of the ocean.
This seems one of the simplest means of pro-
ducing an immense pressure ; and, when con-
versing with Mr. Perkins, I remember his stating
that the piston did not exactly return to its ori-
ginal position, on bringing up the instrument.'
Dr. Horner has embodied the result of his
observations in a table which demonstrates the
facts also proved by the experiments of Kru-
senstern's voyage, that the sea on the surface,
between the tropics, is specifically heavier, and
that it contains more salt, than in higher lati-
tudes. If we take together the statements from
'25° S. as far as 25° N. lat., and in the same man-
ner, from 50° to 65° of N. lat., the mean of the first
is 1-0288, that of the latter 1-0245, which gives
the difference of 0-0043 or ^. But this by no
means proves an absolute inequality in the salt-
ness of the water in general. To give a decided
opinion on it, the sea-svater must be fetched up
from considerable depths, and weighed. Pro-
bably the greater saltness arises from the rapid
decrease of the fresh water, in consequence of
evaporation. From the well known slowness of
the transition of chemical elements, in undis-
turbed compounds, this decrease is but slowly
repaired ; and, as the upper layers are also the
warmer, they may, notwithstanding their greater
specific density, in consequence of their extent,
be maintained by the warm swimming above the
lower cooler layers, by which a principal agent
of commixture, the difference of weight, is ren-
dered of no effect. The slowness of change,
and the condensation of the saline solution at
the surface, which results from it, has the advan-
tage that the acceleration of the evaporation sets
bounds to itself, because, with the increasing
condensation, the attraction of the salt to the
parts of the water is greater, and, consequently,
the diminution of the latter less. Without this
arrangement the tropical seas would perhaps be
covered, like the frozen seas of the north, with
constant fogs. Subsequent experiments will
show how far our explanation of this inequality
is correct ; of which we have now more hopes,
as convenient accurate apparatus have been dis-
covered to fetch up water from any depth, at
pleasure, and unmixed.
The considerable number of observations
(there are 116 of them) on the temperature of
the sea below the surface, their extent over wa-
ters of the ocean remote from each other, and
probably, also, their accuracy, give them a de-
cided claim to the attention of the natural philo-
sopher; and the perseverance with which they
were continued, under various circumstances,
does honor, as well to the naturalist of the expe-
dition, as to the commander, who not only in
calms, but in some periods almost daily, afforded
the necessary assistance. They were all made
\vith Six's Thermometer, which is a good assu-
rance of their accuracy. It is certainly remark-
able that an instrument so simple, so convenient
in the use, so certain in the results, and which
has been long known, is not more frequently used
for this purpose; so that in the latest scientific
voyages much more uncertain thermometers
have been used, to which only the deep sea clamni
of captain Ross forms an exception. Our ob-
servations fall under two heads : measurements
of the temperature in different depths, in the
same places of the ocean, and in statements of
the warmth in the usual soundings, from sixty to
eighty fathoms, in different places.
The most complete observations on the changes
of the temperature, in increasing depths, are, in
the South Sea, of the 13th and 14th of Septem-
ber, 1817, in 36° N. lat., and 148° W. long.
Besides confirming the general law, that the cold
increases with the depth, they also afford the
following results: — 1. The upper parts of the
water show a particular warmth, as the temper-
ature, in the first eight fathoms, diminished only
0° 4', R., but from that depth to twenty -five fa-
thoms full 6°, R. From twenty-five to 100 fa-
thorns' depth the decrease of warmth is consider-
ably less, since in the next twenty-five fathoms,
it is only 1° 7', R., and in the next fifty fathoms
only 1° 5', R.; a decrease which amounts to only
the tenth part of the preceding. It is still slowei
between 100 and 300 fathoms. 2. If we com-
pare these observations with those of the 6th of
June 1816, in 37° N. and in 199° W. long.,
consequently in the same parallel of latitude,
the influence of the season is particularly ob-
servable in the temperature on the surface,
which in June is 13°, R., in September 18° R.
It, however, does not go much deeper than from
twenty-five to fifty fathoms; and at 100 fathoms
it is already within the limits of the accuracy of
such observations ; for we have
f 6th June 9° 4' Reaum.
For 100 fathoms < 13th September 9 4
C 1 4th September 8 6
3. A certain coincidence with these rpsnlN,
only on a greater scale, is shown by the expf n-
ments of the 15th of November, 1817, in 9° N.
lat., and 205° W. long., in which the temperature
decreases from the surface to about sixty or
seventy fathoms, rapidly and uniformly, from
24° 7', R., to 8° 8', R. From nine to ] 0 1 fathoms,
this rapid decrease, instead of proceeding, is
suddenly reduced to the small amount of 0° 9',
R. But if we compare these observations with
those immediately preceding and succeeding them
of the 13th, 14th, and 17th, of November, we
shall hesitate to draw from them decisive con-
clusions.
4. The observations of the 13th of April,
1816, in 15°S., and 130° W., follow a quite
different course from those in September, 1817,
in 36° N. The decrease of warmth from the
surface, to as far as 100 fathoms' depth, is much
more inconsiderable, being here only 3° 6', there
nearly treble, namely, 9° 4', R. It becomes
more considerable between 100 and 200 fathoms,
namely, 8° 8', R. Remarkable as this inequality
is, it yet seems impossible to ascribe it to an
error in the observation, such as too soon draw-
ing up the thermometer : for, on the one hand,
the regular course of the experiments of the 14th
of September, 1817, and their coincidence with
those of the 13th, at the depths of 0° 25' and
100 fathoms, does not allow us to suppose any
thing of the kind ; on the other side, the obser-
vations of the 13th of April, 1816, find tlwir
712
SEA.
confirmation in the preceding ones of the 7th
of April, in 18° S., which give a difference of 0
to 125 fathoms of 4° 8% K., that is, from 0 to
100 fathoms; likewise 3° 8', 11. The same ob-
servations then give for the second hundred of
the depth in fathoms, likewise about 8°, R. It
is not to be discovered from the observations,
whence this difference in the progressive de-
crease of the warmth arises. It cannot well be
ascribed to the influence of the seasons, at least
in lat. 35° N. : the observations of June and
September show an agreement with each other.
The reason perhaps is, that the perpendicular
rays of the sun penetrate the water, between the
tropics, to a greater depth than in latitudes
where the sun never appears in the zenith. The
place of constant temperature, independent of
the seasons, must probably lie much deeper be-
tween the tropics than beyond them.
5. The observations of the 22nd of September
1817, in 28° N. lat. and in 152° W. long., seem
to present a much more uniform course, parti-
cularly if we set aside the statement in twenty-
five fathoms' depth, which does not appear to
agree with the higher or lower observations. We
have from them a decrease of heat of 3° 5' R.
for the first fifty fathoms ; 3° 0' R. for the second
fifty fathoms, and 4° 3' R. from 100 to 200.
The collective observations on the progress of
the decrease of heat were made in tlie Jfout!.
From the Atlantic Ocean we received only a few
insulated statements for depths of 100 to 200
fathoms. The experiments •> i oth oceans are
arranged in the following Table : —
WARMTH of the SEA-WATER at different depths, arranged according to the Geographical
Latitudes in degrees of Reaumur's Thermometer.
Month.
Surface.
70 to 90
Fathoms.
IJ
3
to
5J
to
ij
to
5
r1
S
Longitude.
April . . .
21-0
01.4
17-2
17- ft
9-9
1O*ft
18 S.
1 £
125 \V.
1 ^_I
May . . .
22-6
13-5
1 N.
177
November . .
24-5
23*0
H.i
10-7
9
1 O
204
O1 ft
In the South Sea.
December . .
22-1
12-8
^___
____
_
16
240
01.7
1 fi-r>
1 Q
September
20-1
13-0
8-8
_^__
28
152
June . . .
18-7
13-5
9-4
29
199
September
18-0
9-3
7-0
5-4
36
147
(4-8)*
* In 400 Fathoms.
June . . .
13-0
9-3
5-0
37
199
January . .
10-4
3-2
44 S.
57
March . . .
17-3
12-3
34
27
In the Atlantic Ocean.
April . . .
15-8
12-8
7-9
31
15
October . .
18-9
lfi-4
10-6
n-f»
SON.
15
The temperatures, in the usual soundings from
seventy to eighty fathoms, appear, on account of
their considerable number, from which mean
numbers may be deduced, the best calculated to
supply fundamental data. Yet some singular
results appear in them. Among these is the
statement in the South Sea, that in 18° N. lat.
and seventy-six fathoms' depth, in December, the
water was 2J° R. warmer than in 1 1° N. lat. and
seventy fathoms depth in November. Perhaps
the local places of observation have had here
some influence. The observation in 11° lat.
lies in the west of the Mariana Islands, and in
the north of the Philippines, consequently shel-
tered against the warmer currents from the south
by a kind of wall, and open only to the north,
while, on the other hand, the place in 18° lat.
lies more in the open sea. The temperature
found at the depth of ninety fathoms in the
Chinese Sea to the west of Lucon is remarkably
cold ; perhaps in consequence of the north-east
currents prevailing in December.
Almost daily observations on the temperature
were made in the Atlantic Ocean from the 20th
of April to the 13th of June, 1818, mostly at the
depth of seventy fathoms. In order to balance
the possible errors of the observations which may
arise from the difference in the time that the
thermometer was under water, I have added se-
veral together, and noted the mean number.
They are in the following Table. The figures in
parentheses show the number of obsecrations,
the mean of which is given.
SEA
713
SEA
Observation.
Temperature of the
water.
C "
01
s*1
Qt2
Latitude.
Longitude.
On the
Surface.
Below the
Surface.
April 20—26. . . . (5)
27—30. . . . (4)
30— May 4. . . (5)
May 3-10 . . . (8)
10—16. . . . (7)
15—19. . . • (5)*
*2() 24 (**}
18-6
20-8
22-1
22-7
22-6
21-2
20-3
18-3
15-1
13-2
13-0
13-5
11-8
11-4
11-4
11-5
16-1
14-8
12-3
9-6
57
66
67
74
75
67
71
71
68
77
17° 15' S.
10 24
5 12
0 43 N.
4 51
9 34
19 30
31 0
40 30
48 9
3° 20' W.
12 2
17 5
20 28
24 38
29 38
35 7
36 30
29 40
17 15
25—30. . . . (6)
01 iniiM r» f^\
June 7—13. . . . (7)
This table shows a similar anomaly to that
which we noticed in the South Sea. .That is, the
proportionately low temperature near the equator
from 5° S. to 10° N. Perhaps the greater heat
between 20° and 30° of S. lat. might be a rem-
nant of the southern summer. But the consider-
able increase of temperature in the zone, between
15° and 30° N. lat., is still more remarkable.
For though, towards the end of May, the sun
was near the zenith of those parts, yet this in-
fluence, which could be only commencing here,
must have shown itself in the waters near the
equator, which the sun had just traversed at the
time of those observations (in April), which was
by no means the case. The temperatures at the
surface indicate indeed this influence of the sun,
being the highest at the equator (22J° R.), while
the southern half of the tropical seas had already
assumed an autumnal temperature, since we ob-
serve here, in 17° S., the same warmth (18J° R.)
as in 30° N.
SEABURY (Samuel), the first bishop of the
episcopal church of the United States of Ame-
rica, was born in 1728, and educated at Yale
College, after which he went to Scotland to study
medicine. His father being a minister in Con-
necticut, the son finally chose the ecclesiastical
profession; and in 1753 was ordained in Lon-
don. He fixed finally at New London in Con-
necticut, and in 1784 he made a voyage to Eng-
land, to obtain consecration as a bishop of the
new independent episcopal church. Meeting
with obstacles to his wishes from the English
prelates, he went to Scotland, where he was con-
secrated by three bishops of the episcopal church
of that kingdom. He returned thus qualified to
his native country, and fulfilled the duties of his
pastoral office in an exemplary manner till his
death, which happened in 1796. Bishop Sea-
bury published two volumes of sermons, to
which a supplement was added in 1798.
SEA CORMORANT. See LARVS.
SEA Cow. See HIPPOPOTAMUS, and TRI-
CHECUS.
SEAFORD, a post and sea-port town of
England, one of the cinque ports. It sent two
members to the imperial parliament. Its inha-
bitants are employed in fishing, but of late it has
been resorted to as a bathing place. The privi-
lege of a cinque-port was given it by Charles I.,
ai d it had sent two members to parliament from
the 26th of Edward I. The right of election
was in the inhabitants paying scot and lot; and
the returning officer the bailiff; who is the head
of the corporation, which consists of twelve
juiats, and an indefinite number of freemen. It
was disfranchised in 1832. In 1560 it was at-
tacked by the French, but they were repulsed.
It is eight miles S.S. E. of Lewes, and sixty-
thYee south by east of London.
SEA-GRASS. See Fucus.
SEA-GULL. See LARUS.
SEA-HEDGEHOG. See ECHINUS'.
SEA-HOLLY. See ERYNGIUM.
SEA-HORSE, in ichthyology. See TKICHECUS.
SEAL, 7i. s. Sax. peol, fele ; Dan. seel. The
sea calf.
The seal or soyle is in make and growth not unlike
a pig, ugly faced, and footed like a mold-warp : he
delighteth in rousick, or any loud noise, and thereby
is trained to shew himself above water : they also
come on land. Carew.
An island salt and bare,
The haunt of seals, and orks, and seamews clang.
Milton.
SEAL, n. s., v. a., &t>. n. \ Sax. pjel ; Lat.
SEAL'ING-WAX, n. s. \siglllum. A stamp
engraved with a part icular impression ; the im-
pression made : to attach, confine, or fasten by a
seal: hence to shut up; enclose; mark with a
seal : as a verb neuter, to fix a seal.
We make a sure covenant and write it, and our
princes and priests seal unto it. Nehemiah ix. 33.
When I have performed this, and sealed to them
this fruit, I will come into Spain. Romans xv. 28.
Solyman shewed him his own letters, asking him
if he knew not that hand, and if he knew not that
seal 1 Knollet.
The king commands you
To render up the great seal.
Shahtpeare. Henry VIII.
Till thou canst rail the seal from off my bond,
Thou but offendest thy lungs to speak so loud.
Sltakspeare,
He that brings this love to thee,
Little knows this love in me ;
And by him sent up thy mind. Id. A* You, Like It.
God joined my heart to Romeo's ; thou our .
hands ;
And ere this hand, by thee to Romeo sealed,
Shall be the label to another deed,
Or my true heart with treacherous revolt
Turn to another, this shall slay them both.
Shatupeare.
SEA
714
SEA
Seal up your lips, and give n~ words but mum !
Id.
You'd rail upon the hostess,
And say you would present her at the leet,
Because she bought stone jugs, and no sealed quarts.
Id.
I will seal unto this bond. Id.
The sense is like the sun ; for the sun seaU up the
,lobe of heaven, and opens the globe of earth ; so
the sense doth obscure heavenly things, and reveals
earthly things. Ba&m.
They their fill of love
Took largely, of their mutual guilt the seal. Milton.
Back to the' infernal pit I drag thee chained,
And seal thee so as henceforth not to scorn
The facil gates of hell, too slightly barred. Id.
The prominent orifice was closed with sealingu-ax.
Boyle.
If the organs of perception, like wax overhardened
with cold, will not receive the impression of the
seal; or, like wax of temper too soft, will not hold
it ; or else supposing the wax of a temper fit, but the
seal not applied with a sufficient force to make a
clear impression : in any of these cases the print loft
by the teal will be obscure. Locke.
He saw his monkey picking the teal wax from a
letter. Arbnthnot.
The same his grandsire wore about his neck
In three teal rings ; which after, melted down,
Formed a vast buckle for his widow's gown. Pope.
A SEAL is a stamp of metal, stone, or some
other convenient substance, whereon are en-
graven the arms, device, &c., of some prince,
state, community, magistrate, or private person,
often with a legend or inscription ; the impres-
sion whereof in wax serves to make acts, instru-
ments, &c., authentic. The use of seals, as a
mark of authenticity to letters and other instru-
ments in writing, is extremely ancient. We read
of it among the Jews and Persians in the earliest
and most sacred records of history. And in the
book of Jeremiah there is a very remarkable in-
stance, not only of an attestation by seal, but
also of the other usual formalities attending a
Jewish purchase. In the civil law also seals
were the evidence of truth, and were required,
on the part of the witnesses, at least at the attes-
tation of every testament. But in the times of
the Anglo-Saxons they were not much in use in
England. For though Sir Edward Coke relies
on an instance of king Edwyn's making use of a
seal, about 100 years before the conquest, yet it
does not follow that this was the usage among
the whole nation, as we are assured by all our
ancient historians that sealing was not then in
common use. The method of the Saxons was
for such as could write to subscribe their names,
and, whether they could write or not, to affix the
sign of the cross ; which custom our illiterate
vulgar to this day keep up, by signing a cross
for their mark when unable to write their names.
This inability to write his name, and therefore
making a cross in its stead, is honestly avowed
by Caed walla, a Saxon king, at the end of one
»f his charters. For the same unsurmountable
f^ason, the Normans, a brave but illiterate na-
tion, at their first settlement in France, used the
practice of sealing only, without writing their
names ; which custom continued when learning
li;ul made its way among them, though the reason
had ceased; and hence the charter of Edward
the Confessor to Westminster Abbey, himself
being brought up in Normandy, was witnessed
only by his seal, and is generally thought to be
the oldest sealed charter of any authenticity in
England. At the Conquest the Norman lords
brought over into this kingdom their own cus-
toms ; and introduced waxen seals only, instead
of the English method of writing their names,
and signing with the sign of the cross. The im-
pressions of the seals were sometimes a knight
on horseback, sometimes other devices; but
coats of §rms were not introduced into seals till
about the reign of Richard I.
SEAL is also used for the wax or lead, and the
impression thereon, affixed to the thing sealed.
The color of impressions of seals has varied con-
siderably. That sort of wax most anciently used
was white. The employment of yellow wax on
public documents prevailed a good deal about
the twelfth century. Ultimately, however, red
wax became preferred in almost all the European
countries, and remains so at the present moment.
The western patriarchs and emperors sealed in
green wax certain letters to persons of distinction.
This usage was adopted in the twelfth century
in France, and at a date somewhat subsequent
introduced into Germany. Specimens of this
variety are however extremely rare. In our own
country the green seal is still occasionally used
on charters. The emperor Charles V., in 1 524,
accorded the privilege of sealing in blue, but the
example is unique of the employment of that
color among European potentates. Certain
princes have, at different times, adopted black
wax to seal withal ; as, for instance, Jeremy, pa-
triarch of Constantinople. In the thirteenth cen-
tnry it was employed in France. Impressions
are also found in mixed wax, i. e. of different
colors. Seals vary, besides, in size and shape ;
they are sometimes large, sometimes small
square, round, long, trefoil, lozenge, &c.
SEAL, in zoology. See PHOCA.
SEAL, KING'S GREAT, is that whereby all pa-
tents, commissions, warrants, &c., coming down
from the king, are sealed ; the keeping whereof
is in the hands of the lord chancellor.
SEALER is an officer in chancery appointed
by the lord chancellor, or keeper of the great seal,
to seal the writs and instruments there made in
his presence.
SEALING WAX. See WAX
SEA-LI ox. See PHOCA.
SEAM, n. *. & v.a. j Saxon ream; Goth.
SEAM'STRESS, > teym ; Belg. zoom ; Teut
SEAM'Y, adj. J saum. The suture where
the two edges of cloth are sewed together; a
cicatrice ; scar : a seamstress is a woman em-
ployed in sewing : seamy, having or showing
seams.
Some such squire he was.
That turned your wit the teamy side without,
And made me to suspect you. Shahpeare. Othello.
They wanted food and raiment ; so they took
Religion for their seamstress and their cook.
L'Uacelaml.
In velvet white as snow the troop was gowned,
The team* with sparkling emeralds set around.
Dr fen.
SEAMANSHIP.
715
Precepts should be so finely wrought together in SI:.*M, n. s. Sax. perne ; Welsh sairn. TaU
the same piece that no coarse seam may discover low ; grease ; hog's lard.
where they join. Addison.
Seamed o'er with wounds, which his own sabre
gave. Pope.
Say, has the small or greater pox
Sunk, down her nose, or seamed her face ? Swift.
Shall the proud lord,
That bastes his arrogance with his own seam,
Be worshipped ? Shakspeare . Troilus and Creuida.
Part scour the rusty shields with seam, and part
New grind the blunted ax. Dryden's JEneid.
SEAMANSHIP.
SEAMANSHIP, n.s. [from sea, man, and ship]
the art of working a ship; including the science,
knowledge, qualifications, and experience, which
enable a man to exercise this noble art. A sea-
man, in the language of the profession, is not
merely a mariner or laborer on board a ship, but
a man who understands the structure of this
machine, and every subordinate part of its me-
chanism, so as to enable him to employ it to the
best advantage for pushing her forward in a par-
ticular direction, and for avoiding the numberless
dangers to which she is exposed by the violence-
of the winds and waves. He also knows what
courses can be held by the ship, according to the
wind that blows, and what cannot, and which of
these is most conducive to her progress in her
intended voyage ; and he must be able to perform
every part of the necessary operation with his
own hands. As the seamen express it, he must
be able ' to hand, reef, and steer.'
Seamanship merits the title of a noble art, not
only by its importance, which to Britons is pe-
culiarly great, both in peace and in war, as a
^reat means both of enriching and defending
tlieir country, but also by its immense extent
and difficulty, and the number and variety of
principles on which it is founded — all of which
must be possessed in such a manner that they
shall offer themselves, without reflection, in an in-
stant, otherwise the pretended seaman is but a
lubber, and cannot be trusted on his watch.
This art is practised by seamen without what is
called education, and in the humbler walks' of
life ; and therefore it suffers in the estimation of
the careless spectator. It is thought little of,
because Ijttle attention is paid to it. But if
multiplicity, variety, and intricacy of principles,
and a systematic knowledge of these principles,
entitle any art to the appellation of scientific and
liberal, seamanship claims these epithets in an
eminent degree. We are amused with the pe-
dantry of the seaman, which appears in his whole
language. Indeed it is the only pedantry that
amuses. A scholar, a soldier, a lawyer, nay,
even the elegant courtier, would disgust us, were
he to make the thousandth part of the allusions
to his profession that is well received from the
jolly seaman ; and we do the seaman no more
than justice. His profession must engross his
whole mind, otherwise he can never learn it.
A ship is a machine. We know the forces
which act on it, and we know the results of its
construction. All these are as fixed as the laws
of motion. What, then, prevents this art from
being reduced to a set of practical maxims, as
well founded and as logically deduced as the
working of a steam engine or a cotton mill ?
Ought not the rough seaman to look for the
same assistance ; and may not the ingenious
speculatist in his closet unravel the intricate
thread of mechanism, which connects all thp
manual operations with the unchangeable laws
of nature, and both furnish the seaman with a
better machine, and direct him to a more dexter-
ous use of it ?
We cannot help thinking that much may be
done ; nay, we may say that much has been done
in this way. We think highly of the progressive
labors of Remaud, Pilot, Bouguer, Du Hamel,
Groignard, Bernouilli, Euler, Rome, Gordon,
Gower, and others. M. Bouguer was professor
of hydrology at a marine academy of Franc^
and was enjoined, as part of his duty, to compose
dissertations both on the construction and the
working of ships. His Traite du Navire, and
his Manoeuvre des Vaisseaux, are undoubtedly
valuable performances : so are those of Euler
and Bernouilli, considered as mathematical dis-
sertations, and they are surprising works of
genius, considered as the productions of persons
who hardly ever saw a ship, and were totally
unacquainted with the profession of a seaman.
In this respect Bouguer had great superiority,
having always lived at a sea-port, and having
made many very long voyages. His treatises
therefore are infinitely better accommodated to
the demands of tne seaman, and more direcliy
instructive ; but still the author is more a mathe-
matician than an artist, and his performance is
intelligible only to mathematicians.
The whole science of the art must proceed on
the knowledge of the impulsions of the wind
and water. These are the sources which act on
the machine ; and its motions, which are the
ultimatum of our research, whether as an end to
be obtained, or as a thing to be prevented, must
depend on these forces. Now it is with respect
to this fundamental point that we are as yet al-
most totally in the dark. And, in the perform-
ances of M. Bouguer, and the other authors
above named, the theory of these forces, by which
their quantity and the direction of their action
are ascertained, is altogether erroneous ; and its re-
sults deviate so enormously from what is observed
in the motions of a ship that the person who
should direct the operations on shipboard, in
conformity to the maxims deducible from their
propositions, would be baffled in most of his
attempts, and be in danger of losing the ship.
The whole proceeds on the supposed truth of
that theory which states the impulse of a fluid
to be in the proportion of the square of the sine
of the angle of incidence ; and that its action
on any small portion, such as a square foot of
the sails or hull, is the same as if that portion
were detached from the rest, and exposed, single
716
SEAMANSHIP
and alone, to the wind or water in the same
angle. But both these principles are erroneous,
and to a very great degree, in cases which occur
most frequently in practice, that is, in the small
angles of inclination. When the wind falls
nearly perpendicular on the sails, theory is not
very erroneous ; but. in these cases, the circum-
stances of the ship's situation are generally such
that the practice is easy, occurring almost with-
out thought ; and in this case, too, even consider-
able deviations from the very best practice are of
no great moment. The interesting cases are, where
the intended movement requires or depends upon
very oblique auions of the wind on the sails,
and its practicability or impracticability depends
on a very small variation of this obliquity ; a
mistake of the force, either as to intensity or direc-
tion, then produces a mighty effect on the result-
ing motion. This is the case in sailing to wind-
ward ; the most important of all the general
problems of seamanship. The trim of the sails,
and the course of the ship, so as to gain most
on the wind, are very nice things ; that is, they
are confined within very narrow limits, and a
small mistake produces a very considerable effect.
The same thing obtains in many of the nice
problems of tacking, box-hauling, wearing after
lying-to in a storm, &c.
The error in the second assertion of the the-
ory is still greater, and the action on one part of
the sail or hull is so greatly modified by its ac-
tion on another adjoining part, that a stay-sail
is often seen hanging like a loose rag, although
there is nothing between it and the wind ; and
this merely because a great sail in its neighbour-
hood sends off a lateral stream of wind, which
completely hinders the wind from getting at it.
Till the theory of the action of fluids be es-
tablished, we cannot tell what are the forces
which are acting on every rlbint of the sail
and hull : therefore we cannot tell either the
mean intensity or direction of the whole force
which acts on any particular sail, nor the inten-
sity and mean direction of the resistance to the
hull ; circumstances absolutely necessary for
enabling us to say what will be their energy in
producing a rotation round any particular axis.
In like manner, we cannot, by such a compu-
tation, find the spontaneous axis of conversion,
or the velocity of such conversion. In short, we
cannot pronounce with tolerable confidence a
priori what will be the motion in any case, or
what dispositions of the sails will produce the
movement we wish to perform. The experi-
enced seaman learns by nabit the general effects
of every disposition of the sails ; and, though
his knowledge is far from being accurate, it sel-
dom leads him into any very blundering opera-
tion. Perhaps he seldom makes the best adjust-
ment possible, but seldomer still does he deviate
very far from it ; and in the most general and
important problems, such as working to wind-
ward, the result of much experience and many
corrections has settled the trim of the sails, which
is certainly not far from the truth, though it de-
viates widely and uniformly from the theory of
the mathematician.
But the theory is defective in one point only ;
and alth'v • • important point, and
the errors in it destroy the conclusions of the
chief propositions, the reasoning remains in full
force, and the modus operandi is precisely such
as is stated in the theory. The principles of the
art are therefore to be found in these treatises ;
but false inferences have been drawn, by com-
puting from erroneous quantities. The rules
and the practice of the computation, however,
are still beyond controversy : nay, since the
process of investigation is legitimate, we may
make use of it to discover the very circumstance
in which we are at present mistaken ; for by
converting the proposition, instead of finding
the motions by means of the supposed forces,
combined with the known mechanism, we may
discover the forces by means of this mechanism
and the observed motions.
We shall therefore in this place give a very
general view of the movements of a ship under
sail, showing how they are produced and modi-
fied by the action of the wind on her sails, and
of the water on her rudder and on her bows.
SECT. I. — OF THE MOVEMENTS OF A SHIP
UNDER SAIL.
We shall not attempt a precise determination
of any of toese movements ; but we shall say
as much as may enable the curious landsman to
understand how this mighty machine is managed
amidst the fury of the winds and waves ; and,
what is more to our wish, we hope to enable the
uninstructed but thinking seaman to generalise
that knowledge which he possesses ; to class his
ideas, and give them a sort of rational system ;
and even to improve his practice, by making
him sensible of the immediate operation of every
thing he does, and in what manner it contri-
butes to produce the movement which he has in
view.
A ship may be considered as a mass of inert
matter in free space, at liberty to move in every
direction, according to the forces which impel or
resist her ; and when she is in actual motion, in
the direction of her course, we may still consider
her as at rest in absolute space, but exposed to
the impulse of a current of water moving equally
fast in the opposite direction : for in both cases
the pressure of the water on her bows is the
same ; and we know that it is possible, and fre-
quently happens in currents, that the impulse of
the wind on her sails, and that of the water on
her bows, balance each other so precisely that
she not only does not stir from the place, but
also remains steadily in the same position, with
her head directed to the same point of the com-
pass. This state of things is easily conceived
by any person accustomed to consider mechanical
subjects, and every seaman of experience has ob-
served it. It is of importance to consider it in
this point of view, because it gives us the most
familiar notion of the manner in which these
forces of the wind and water are set in opposition,
and made to balance or not to balance each other
by the intervention of the ship, in the same man-
ner as the goods and the weights balance each
other in the scales by the intervention of a beam
or steel-\ aril.
When a ship proceeds steadily in her course,
without changing her rate of sailing, or varying
SEAMANSHIP.
717
the direction of her head, we must conceive the
accumulated impulses of the wind on all her sads
is precisely equal and directly opposite to the
impulse of the water on her bows. The seaman
has two principal tasks to perform. The first is
to keep the ship steadily in that course which
will hring her farthest on in the line of her in-
tended voyage. Having chosen such a course
as he thinks most advantageous, he must set such
a quantity of sail as the strength of the wind
will allow him to carry with safety and effect,
and must trim the sails properly, or so adjust
their positions to the direction of the wind that
they may have the greatest possible tendency to
impel the ship in the line of her course, and to
keep her steadily in that direction.
His other task is to produce any deviations
which he sees proper from the present course of
the ship ; and to produce these in the most cer-
tain, the safest, and the most expeditious manner.
It is chiefly in this movement that the mecha-
nical nature of a ship comes into view, and it is
here that the superior address and resource of
an expert seaman is to be perceived. 'Under the
article SAILING some notice has been taken of
the first task of the seaman, and it was there
shown how a ship, after having taken up her an-
chor and fitted her sails, accelerates her motion,
by degrees which continually diminish, till the
increasing resistance of the water becomes pre-
cisely equal to the diminished impulse of the
wind, and then the motion continues uniformly
the same so long as the wind continues to blow
with the same force and in the same direction.
It is perfectly consonant to experience that
the impulse of fluids is in the duplicate ratio of
the relative velocity. Let it be supposed that
when water moves one foot per second, its per-
pendicular pressure or impulse on a square foot
is m pounds. Then, if it be moving with the
velocity V, estimated in feet per second, its per-
pendicular impulse on a surface S, containing
any number of square feet, must be m S VJ. In
like manner, the impulse of air on the same sur-
face may be represented by n S V* ; and the pro-
portion of the impulse of these two fluids will
be that of m to n. We may express this by the
ratio of q to 1, making — rz q.
M. Bouguer's computations and tables are on
the supposition that the impulse of sea-water
moving one foot per second is twenty-three
ounces on a square foot, and that the impulse of
the wind is the same when it blows at the rate of
twenty-four feet per second. These measures
are all French. They by no means agree with
the experiments of others ; and what we have
already said, under resistance of fluids, is enough
to show that nothing like precise measures can
be expected. It was shown as the result of a
rational investigation, and confirmed by the expe-
riments of Buat and others, that the impulsions
and resistances at the same surface, with the
same obliquity of incidence and the same velo-
city of motion, are different according to the
form and situation of the adjoining parts. Thus
the total resistance of a thin board is greater than
that of a long prism, having this board for its
front er bow, &c. We are greatly at a loss what
to give as absolute measures of these impulsions.
1. With respect to water. The experiments
of the French academy on a prism two feet
broad and deep, and four feet long, indicate a
resistance of 0-973 Ib. avoirdupois to a square
foot, moving with the velocity of one foot per
second at the surface of still water. Mr. Buat's
experiments on a square foot wholly immersed
in a stream were as follow : —
A square foot as a thin plate . 1-81 Ib.
Ditto as the front of a box one foot
long 142
Ditto as the front of a box three foot
long 129
The resistance of sea-water is about 5lj greater.
2. With respect to air, the varieties are as
great. The resistance of a square foot to air
moving with the velocity of one foot per second
appears from Mr. Robins's experiments on sixteen
square inches to be on a square foot 0-001596 Ib.
Chevalier Borda's on 16 inches 0-001757
on 81 inches 0-002042
Mr. Rouse's on large surfaces 0-002291
Precise measures are not to be expected, nor are
they necessary in this enquiry. Here we are chiefly
interested in their proportions, as they may be
varied by their mode of action in the different
circumstances of obliquity and velocity.
We begin by recurring to the fundamental
proposition concerning the impulse of fluids, viz.
that the absolute pressure is always in a direction
perpendicular to the impelled surface, whatever
may be the direction of the stream of fluid. We
must therefore illustrate the doctrine by always
supposing a flat surface of sail stretched on a
yard, which can be braced about in any direc-
tion, and giving this sail such a position and such
an extent of surface tha< the impulse on it may
be the same both as to direction and intensity
with that on the real sails. Thus the considera-
tion is greatly simplified. The direction of the
impulse is therefore perpendicular to the yard.
Its intensity depends on the velocity with which
the wind meets the sail, and the obliquity of its
stroke. We shall adopt the constructions found-
ed on the common doctrine, that the impulse is
as the square of the sine of the inclination, be-
cause they are simple ; whereas, if we were to
introduce the values of the oblique impulses,
such as they have beer observed in the excellent
experiments of the academy of Paris, the con-
structions would be complicated in the extreme,
and we could hardly draw any consequqpces
which would be intelligible to any but expert
mathematicians. The conclusions will be erro-
neous, not in kind but in quantity only ; and we
shall point out the necessary corrections, so that
the final results will be found not very different
from real observation.
If a ship were a round cylindrical body like a
flat tub, floating on its bottom, and fitted with a
mast and sail in the centre, she would always
sail in a direction perpendicular to the yard.
This is evident. But she is an oblong body,
and may be compared to a chest, whose length
greatly exceeds its breadth. She is so shaped
that a moderate force will push her through the
water with her head or stern foremost; but it
requires a very great force to push her sidewise
718
SEAMANSHIP.
with the saiv.c velocity, A fine sailing ship of
war will require about twelve times as much
force to push her sidewise as to push her head
foremost. In this respect therefore she will
very much resemble a chest whose length is
twelve times its breadth ; and, whatever be the
proportion of these resistances in different ships,
we may always substitute a box which shall have
the same resistances headwise and sidewise.
I
A.
\"
/
F
~K
/
JL.
a
c
\ '
B
H
\
Let E F G H of the diagram be the horizontal
section of such a box, and A B its middle line
and C its centre. In whatever direction this
box may chance to move, the direction of the
whole resistance on its two sides will pass
through C. For, as the whole stream has one
inclination to the side E F, the equivalent of the
equal impulses on every part will be in a line
perpendicular to the middle of E F. For the
same reason, it will be in a line perpendicular
to the middle of F G. These perpendiculars
must cross in C. Suppose a mast erected at C,
and Y Cy to be a yard hoisted on it carrying a
sail. Let the yard be first conceived as braced
right athwart at right angles to the keel, as re-
presented by Y' y'. Then, whatever be the di-
rection of the wind abaft this sail, it will impel
the vessel in the direction C B. But, if the sail
has the oblique position Y y, the impulse will be
in the direction C D perpendicular to C Y, and
will both push the vessel a-head and sidewise.
For the impulse C D is equivalent to the two
impulses C K and C I (the sides of a rectangle
of which C D is the diagonal). The force C I
pushes the vessel a-head, and C K pushes her
sidewise. She must therefore take some inter-
mediate direction a b, such that the resistance of
the water to the plane F G is to its resistance to
the plane E F as C I to C K.
The angle b C B between the real course and
the direction of the head is called the leeway ;
and in the course of this dissertation we shall
express it by the symbol x. It evidently de-
pends on the shape of the vessel and on the
position of the yard. An accurate knowledge
of the quantity of leeway, corresponding to
different circumstances of obliquity of impulse,
extent of surface, &c., is of the utmost import-
ance in the practice of navigation ; and even an
approximation is valuable. The subject is so
very difficult that this must content us for the
present.
Let V be the velocity of the ship in the direc-
tion C b, and let the surfaces F G and F E be
called A' and B'. Then the resistance to the
lateral motion is m Vs x B' x sine*, b C B,
and that to the direct motion is m \7> x A' x
sine*, b C K, or m V* x A' x cos.* bCB.
Therefore these resistances are in the proportion
of B' x sine2, x to A' x cos.-, .1 (representing
the angle of leeway 6 C B by the symbol x).
Therefore we have CI:CK, or C I : I D
n. • , , r> sine'j;
=. A cos.8 x : B • sine* g, SZ £ •• B,
COS.* JT
— A : B; tangent * x.
Let the angle Y C B, to which the yard is
braced up, be called the trim of the sails, and
expressed by the symbol b. This is the comple-
ment of the angle DC I. Now CI : ID —
rad. : tan. D C I, =: 1 : tan. D C I, n 1 : cotan. b.
Therefore we have finally 1 • cotan. b ~ A' : B' •
tan.2 x, and A' • cotan. b — B' • tangent8 x, and
tan.* j; — v. cot. b. This equation evidently
ascertains the mutual relation between the trim
of the sails and the leeway in every case whero
we can tell the proportion between the resistances
to the direct and broadside motions of the ship,
and where this proportion does not change by
the obliquity of the course. Thus, suppose the
yard braced up to an angle of 30° with the keel.
Then cotan. 30° ~ 1-732 very nearly. Suppose
also that the resistance sidewise is twelve times
greater than the resistance headwise. This gives
A' = 1 and B— 12. Therefore 1-732 = 12 x
1*732
tan.8 x, and tan.* x — — — - , — 0-14434, and
tan. x =. 0-3799, and x =: 20° 48', very nearly
two points of leeway.
This computation, or rather the equation
which gives room for it, supposes the resistances
proportional to the squares of the sines of inci-
dence. The experiments of the academy of
Paris show that this supposition is not far from
the truth when the angle of incidence is great.
In this present case the angle of incidence on
the front F G is about 70°, and the experiments
just now mentioned show that the real resistance
exceed the theoretical ones only T^. But the
angle of incidence on E F is only 20° 48'. Ex-
periment shows that in this inclination the re-
sistance is almost quadruple of the theoretical
resistances. Therefore the lateral resistance is
assumed much too small in the present instance.
Therefore a much smaller leeway will suffice for
producing a lateral resistance which %vill balance
the lateral impulse C K, arising from the obli-
quity of the sail, viz. 30°. The matter of fact is,
that a pretty good sailing ship, with her sails
braced to this angle at a medium, will not make
above 5° or 6° leeway in smooth water and easy
weather ; and yet in this situation the hull and
rigging present a very great surface to the wind,
in the most improper positions, so as to have a
very great effect in increasing her leeway. And,
if we compute the resistances for this leeway of
6° by the actual experiments of the French aca-
demy on that angle, we shall find the result not
far from the truth ; that is, the direct and lateral
resistances will be nearly in the proportion of
C I to I D.
It results from this view of the matter that
the leeway is in general much smaller than what
the usual theory assigns. We also see that, ac
cording to whatever law the resistance changes
by a change of inclination, the leeway remains
the same while the trim of the sails is the same.
I !«• !'.•.
;K A :vi A
/Jl.-lll
S E A M A JN S H I P.
719
The leeway depends only on the direction of the
impulse of the wind; and this depends solely
on the position of the sails with respect to the
keel, whatever may be the direction of the wind.
This is a very important observation, and will be
frequently referred to in the progress of the
present investigation. Note, however, that we
are here considering only the action on the sails,
and on the same sails. We are not considering
the action of the wind on the hull and rigging.
This may be very considerable ; and it is always
in a lee direction, and augments the leeway ;
and its influence must be so much the more sen-
sible as it bears a greater proportion to the im-
pulse on the sails. A ship under courses, or
close-reefed topsails and courses, must make
more leeway than when under all her canvas
t.-immed to the same angle. But to introduce
this additional cause of deviation here would ren-
der the investigation too complex to be of any use.
This doctrine will be considerably illustrated
by attending to the manner in which a lighter is
tracked along a canal, or swings to its anchor in
H
a stream. The track rope is made fast to some
staple or bolt E on the deck, and is passed
between two of the timber-heads of the bow at
D, and laid hold of at F on shore. The men or
cattle walk along the path F G, the rope keeps
extended in the direction D F, and the lighter
arranges itself in an oblique position A B, and
is thus dragged along in the direction a b, parallel
to the side of the canal. Or, if the canal has a
current in the opposite direction b a, the lighter
may be kept steady in its place by the rope D F
made fast to a post at F. In this case it is
always observed that the lighter swings in a
position A B, which is oblique to the stream a b.
Now the force which retains it in this position,
and which precisely balances the action of the
stream, is certainly exerted in the direction I) F;
and the lighter would be held in the same man-
ner if the rope were made fast at C amidship,
without any dependence on the timber-heads at
D ; and it would still be held in. the same posi-
tion, if, instead of the single rope C F, it were
riding by two ropes C G and C H, of which C H
is in a direction right a-head, but oblique to the
stream, and the other C G is perpendicular to
C H or A B. And, drawing D I and D K per-
pendicular to A B and C G, the strain on the
rope C H is to that on the rope C G as C I to
C K. The action of the rope in these cases is
precisely analogous to that of the sail y Y ; and
the obliquity of the keel to the directions of the
motion, or to the direction of the stream, is
analogous to the leeway. All this must be evi-
dent to any person accustomed to mechanical
disquisitions.
A most important use may be made of this
illustration. If an accurate model be made of a
ship, and if it be placed in a stream of water,
and ridden in this manner by a rope made fast
at any point D of the bow, it will arrange itself
in some determined position A B. There will
be a certain obliquity to the stream, measured by
the angle B o b ; and there will be a correspond-
ing obliquity of the rope, measured by the angle
F C B. Let y C Y be perpendicular to C F.
Then C Y will be the position of the yard or
trim of the sails corresponding to the leeway
b C B. Then, if we shift the rope to a point of
the bow distant from D by a small quantity, we
shall obtain a new position of the ship, both
with respect to the stream and the rope ; and in
this way may be obtained the relation between
the position of the sails and the leeway, inde-
pendent of all theory, and susceptible of great
accuracy ; and this may be done with a variety
of models suited to the most usual forms of
ships.
In farther reflection on this subject we are
persuaded that these experiments, instead of
being made on models, may with equal ease be
made on a ship of any size. Let the ship ride
in a stream at a mooring D (fig. 1, Plate SEA-
MANSHIP), by means of a short hawser BCD
from her bow, having a spring A C on it carried
out from her quarter. She will swing to her
moorings, tili she ranges herself in a certain po-
sition A B with respect to the direction a b of
the stream ; and the direction of the hawser D C
will point to some point E of the line of the
keel. Now it is plain, to any person acquainted
with mechanical disquisitions, that the deviation
B E 6 is precisely the leeway that the ship will
make when the average position of the sail is
that of the line G E H perpendicular to E D ;
at least this will give the leeway which is pro-
duced by the sails alone. By heaving on the
spring, the knot C may be brought into any
other position we please; and for every new
position of the knot the ship will take a new
position with respect to the stream and to the
hawser. And we persist in saying that more
information will be got by this train of experi-
ments than from mathematical theory ; fc • all
theories of the impulses of fluids must proceed
on physical postulates, with respect to the mo-
tions of the filaments, which are exceedingly
conjectural.
And it must now be farther observed that the
substitution which we have made of an oblong
parallelepiped for a ship, although well suited to
give us clear notions of the subject, is of small
use in practice; for it is next to impossible
(even granting the theory of oblique impulsions)
to make this substitution. A ship is of a form
which is not reducible to equations ; and there-
fore the action of the water on her bow or broad-
side can only be had by a most laborious and
intricate calculation for almost every square foot
of its surface. See Bezant's Cours de Mathcm.
vol. v, p. 72, &c. And this must be different
for every ship. But, which is more unlucky,
when we have got a parallelepiped which wi'll
have the same proportion of direct and lateral
resistance for a particular angle of leeway, it will
720
SEAMANSHIP
not answer for another leeway of the same ship ;
fo-, when the leeway changes, ttie figure actually
exposed to the action of the water changes also.
When the leeway is increased, more of the lee-
quarter is acted on by the water, and a part of
the weather-bow is now removed from. its action.
Another parallelepiped must therefore be dis-
covered, whose resistances shall suit this new
position of the keel with respect to the real
course of the ship.
We proceed in the next place to ascertain the
elation between the velocity of the ship and,
that of the wind, modified as they may be by
the trim of the sails, and the obliquity of the im-
pulse.
Let A B (fig. 2, 3, and 4, plate SEAMANSHIP)
represent the horizontal section of a ship. In place
of all the drawing sails, that is, the sails which are
really filled, we can always substitute one sail of
equal extent, trimmed to the same angle with the
keel. This being supposed attached to the yard
D C D, let this yard be first of all at right angles
to the keel, as represented in fig. 2. Let the wind
blow in the direction W C, and let C E (in the
direction W C continued) represent the velocity
V of the wind. Let C F be the velocity v of the
ship. It must also be in the direction of the
ship's motion, because, when the sail is at right
angles to the keel, the absolute impulse on the
sail is in the direction of the keel ; and there is
no lateral impulse, and consequently no leeway.
Draw E F, and complete the parallelogram C F E
e, producing e C through the centre of the yard
to w. Then icC will be the relative or apparent
direction of the wind, and C e or F E will be its
apparent or relative velocity : for if the line Ce
be carried along C F, keeping always parallel to
its first position, and if a particle of air move
uniformly along C E (a fixed line in absolute
space) in the same time, this particle will always
be found in that point of C E where it is inter-
sected at that instant by the moving line C e ; so
that, if C e were a tube, the particle of air, which
really moves in the line C E, would always be
found in the tube Ce. While C E is the real
direction of the wind, C e will be the position of
the vane at the mast head, which will therefore
mark the apparent direction of the wind, or its
motion relative to the moving ship.
We may conceive this in another way. Sup-
pose a cannon-shot fired in the direction C E at
the passing ship, and that it passes through the
mast at C with the velocity of the wind. It will
not pass through the off-side of the ship at P, in
the line C E : for, while the shot moves from C
to P, the point P has gone forward, and the point
p is now in the place where P was when the shot
passed through the mast. The shot will therefore
pass through the ship's side in the point p, and a
person on board seeing it pass through C and p
will say that its motion was in the line C p.
Thus it happens that when a ship is in motion
the apparent direction of the wind is always
ahead of its real direction. The line w C is al-
ways found within the anijle W C B. It is easy
to see from the construction that the difference
between the real and apparent directions of the
wind is so much the more remarkable as the ve-
locity of the ship is greater : for the angle W C w
or E C e depends on the magnitude of E e or
C F, in proportion to C E. Persons not much
accustomed to attend to these matters are apt to
think all attention to this difference to be nothing
but affectation of nicety. They have no notion
that the velocity of a ship can have any sensible
proportion to that of the wind. ' Swift as the
wind' is a proverbial expression ; yet the velo-
city of a ship always bears a very sensible
proportion to that of the wind, and even very
frequently exceeds it. We may form a pretty
exact notion of the velocity of the wind, by ob-
serving the shadows of the summer clouds flying
along the face of a country, and it may be very
well measured by this method. The motion of
such clouds cannot be very different from that of
the air below ; and when the pressure of the
wind on a flat surface, while blowing with a ve-
locity measured in this way, is compared with its
pressure when its velocity is measured by more
unexceptionable methods, they are found to
agree with all desirable accuracy. Now obser-
vations of this kind frequently repeated, show,
that what we call a pleasant brisk gale blows at
the rate of about ten miles an hour, or about
fifteen feet in a second, and exerts a pressure of
half a pound on a square foot. Mr. Smeaton
has frequently observed the sails of a windmill,
driven by such a wind, moving faster, nay much
faster, towards their extremities, so that the sail,
instead of being pressed to the frames on the
arms, was taken a-back, and fluttering on them.
Nay, we know that a good ship, with all her
sails set and the wind on the beam, will in such
a situation sail above ten knots an hour on smooth
water. There is an observation made by every
experienced seaman which shows this difference
between the real and apparent directions of the
wind very distinctly. When a ship that is sail-
ing briskly with the wind on the beam tacks
about, and then sails equally well on the other
tack, the wind always appears to have shifted
and come more a-head. This is familiar to all
seamen. The seaman judges of the direction of
th« wind by the position of the ship's vanes.
Suppose the ship sailing due west on the star-
board tack, with the wind apparently N.N. W.
the vane pointing S.S.E. If the ship puts
about, and stands due east on the larboard tack,
the vane will be found no longer to point S.S. E.
but perhaps S.S.W., the wind appearing N.N. !'.. ;
and the ship must be nearly close hauled, in order
to make an east course. The wind appears to
have shifted four points. If the ship tacks again,
the wind returns to its old quarter. We have
often observed a greater difference than this.
The celebrated astronomer, Dr. Bradley, taking
the amusement of sailing in a pinnace on the
river Thames., observed this, and was surprised
at it, imagining that the change of wind was
owing to the approaching to or retiring from the
shore. The boatmen told him that it always
happened at sea, and explained it to him in the
best manner they were able. This explanation
struck him, and set him a musing on an astrono-
mical phenomenon which he had been puzzled
by for some years, and which he had called the
aberration of the fixed stars. Ever)' star ch:. i
its place a small matter for half a year, and re-
SEAMANSHIP.
721
turns to it at the completion of the year. He
compared the stream of light from the star to the
wind, and the telescope of the astronomer to the
ship's vane, while the earth was like the ship,
moving in opposite directions when in the oppo-
site points of its orbit. The telescope must be
always pointed a-head of the real direction of the
star, in the same manner as the vane is always in
a direction a-head of the wind ; and thus he as-
certained the progressive motion of light, and
discovered the proportion of its velocity to the
velocity of the earth in its orbit by observing
the deviation which was necessarily given to the
telescope. Observing that the light shifted its
direction about 40*, he concluded its velocity to
be about 11,000 times greater than that of the
earth; just as the intelligent seaman would con-
clude, from this apparent shifting of the wind,
that the velocity of the wind is about triple that
of the ship. This is indeed the best method for
discovering the velocity of the wind. Let the
direction of the vane at the mast-head be very
accurately noticed on both tacks, and let the ve-
locity of the ship be also accurately measured.
The angle between the direction of the ship's
head on these different tacks, being halved, will
give the real direction of the wind, which must
be compared with the position of the van, in
order to determine the angle contained between
the real and apparent directions of the wind or
the angle E C e, or half of the observed shifting
of the wind, will show the inclination of its true
and apparent directions. This being found, the
proportion of E C to F C (fig. 4) is easily mea-
sured.
We have been very particular on this point, be-
cause, since the mutual actions of bodies depend
on their relative motions only, we should make
prodigious mistakes if we estimated the action
of the wind by its real direction and velocity,
when they differ so much from the relative or
apparent.
By an easy process we might investigate the
following particulars of a ship with its sails at
right angles to the keel.
1. The velocity of the ship is (cateris paribus)
proportional to the velocity of the wind and to
the sine of its incidence on the sail, when no
sail becalms another. This observation is not,
however, of great importance ; for it is very un-
usual to put a ship in the situation considered
hitherto ; that is, with the yards square, unless
she be right before the wind.
2. The surface of sail is proportional to the
square of the ship's velocity directly, and to the
square of the relative velocity inversely. Thus,
if a ship be sailing with one-eighth of the velo-
city of the wind, and we would have her sail
with one-fourth of it, we must quadruple the
sails. This is more easily seen in another way.
The velocity of the ship is proportional to the
velocity of the wind ; and therefore the relative
velocity is also proportional to that of the wind ;
and the impulse of the wind is as the square of
the relative velocity. Therefore, in order to in-
crease the relative velocity by an increase of sail
only, we must make this increase of sail in the
duplicate proportion of the increase of velocity.
When the sails stand oblique to the keel it
VOL. XIX.
might be shown that, while the trim of the sai's
remains the same, the leeway and the angle of
the yard and course remains the same, and that.
the velocity of the ship is as the sine of the
angle of real incidence, that is, as the sine of the
angle of the sail and the real direction of the wind.
Let the ship A B (fig. 5) hold the course C F,
with the wind blowing in the direction W C, and
having her yards D C D braced up to the smallest
angle BCD which the rigging can admit. Let
C F be to C E as the velocity of the ship to the
velocity of the wind; join F E, and draw C w
parallel to E F ; it is evident that F E is the re-
lative motion of the wind, and w C D is the re-
lative incidence on the sail. Draw F O parallel
to the yard D C, and describe a circle through
the points C O F ; then we say that if the ship,
with the same wind and the same trim of the
same drawing sails, be made to sail on any other
course Cf, her velocity along C F is to the velo-
city along Cf as C F is to Cf; or, in other
words, the ship will employ the same time in
going from C to any point of the circumference
C F O. Join f O. Then, because the angles
C F O, cfO, are on the same chord C O, they are
equal, and/O is parallel to d C d, the new posi-
tion of the yard corresponding to the new posi-
tion of the keel a b, making the angle d C b —
D C B. Also, by the nature of the circle, the
line C F is to Cf as the sine of the angle C O F
to the sine of the angle C Of, that is (on ac-
count of the parallels C D, OF, and C d, Of),
as the sine of W C D to the sine of W C d.
But when the trim of the sails remains the same
the velocity of the ship is as the sine of the angle
of the sail with the direction of the wind ; there-
fore C F is to Cf as the velocity on C F to that
on Cf, and the proposition is demonstrated.
Let it now be required to determine the best
course for avoiding a rock R, lying in the direc-
tion C R, or for withdrawing as fast as possible
from a line of coast P Q. Draw C M through
R, or parallel to P Q, and letm be the middle of
the arch C m M. It is plain that m is the most
remote from C M of any point of the arch
C m M, and therefore the ship will recede farther
from the coast P Q in any given time by holding
the course C m than by any other course.
This course is easily determined ; for the arch
C m M rr 360° — (arch C O + arch O M), and
the arch C O <ts the measure of twice the angle
CFO, or twice the angle D C B, or twice b + x,
and the arch O M measures twice the angle
E C M. Thus, suppose the sharpest possible
trim of the sails to be 35°, and the observed
angle E C M to be 70° ; then C O + O M is 70°
+ 140° or 210°. This being taken from 360°
leaves 150°, of which the half M m is 75°, and
the angle M C m is 37° 30'. This added to
E C M makes EG m 107° 30', leaving W C m
— 72° 30', and the ship must hold a course
making an angle of 72° 30', with the real direc-
tion of the wind, and W C D will be 3?° 30'.
This supposes no leeway. But if we know
that, under all the sail which the ship can carry
with safety and advantage, she makes 5° of lee-
way, the angle D C m of the sail and course, or
b+ x, is 40°. Then C O + O M = 220°, which
being taken from 360° leaves 140°, of which the
3 A
72?
SEAMANSHIP.
half is 70°,= M w, and the angle M C ,«n35°,
and E C = ro 105°, and W C m — 75°, and the
ship must lie with her head 70° from the wind,
making; 5° of leeway, and the angle W C D
is 35°.
The general rule for the position of the ship
is, that the line on shipboard which bisects the
angle b+x may also bisect the angle W C M, or
make the angle between the course and the line
from which we wish to withdraw equal to the
angle between the sail and the real direction of
the wind. It is plain that this problem includes
that of plying to windward. We have only
to suppose E C M, to be 90° ; then, taking our
example in the same ship, with the trim and the
same leeway, we have 6+r^'K)°. This taken
from 90° leaves 50°, and W C n—90— 25=65,
and the ship's head must lie 60° from the wind,
and the yard must be 25° from it. It must be
observed here that it is not always eligible to
select the course which will remove the ship
fastest from the given line C M ; it may be more
prudent to remove from it more securely, though
more slowly. In such cases, the procedure is
very simple, viz. to shape the course as near the
wind as is possible.
The reader will also easily see, that the pro-
priety of these practices is confined to those
courses only where the practicable trim of the
sails is not sufficiently sharp. Whenever the
course lies so far from the wind that it is possible
to make the tangent of the apparent angle of the
wind and sail double the tangent of the sail and
course, it should be done.
These are the chief practical consequences
which can be deduced from the theory. But we
should consider how far this adjustment of the
sails and course can be performed. And here oc-
cur difficulties so great as to make it almost im-
practicable. We have always supposed the posi-
tion of the surface of the sail to be distinctly
observable and measurable ; but this can hardly be
affirmed even with respect to a sail stretched on
•\ yard. Here we suppose the surface of the sail to
have the same inclination to the keel that the
yard has. This is by no means the case ; the sail
assumes a concave form, of which it is almost im-
possible to assign the direction of the mean im-
pulse. We believe that this is always considerably
to leeward of a perpendicular to the yard, lying
between C I and C E (fig. 4). This is of some ad-
vantage, being equivalent to a sharper trim. We
cannot affirm this, however, with any confidence,
because it renders the impulse on the weather-
leech of the sail so exceedingly feeble as hardly
to have any effect. In sailing close to the wind,
the ship is kept so near that the weather-leech
of the sail is almost ready to receive the wind
edgewise, and to flutter or shiver. The most
effective or drawing sails with a side-wind, espe-
cially when plying to windward, are the stay-
sails. We believe that it is impossible to say,
with any thing approaching to precision, what is
the position of the general surface of a stay-sail,
or to calculate the intensity and direction of the
general impulse ; and we affirm with confidence
that no man can pronounce on these points with
any exactness. If we can guess within a third or
a fourth part of the truth, it is all we can pre-
tend to : and, after all, it is but a guess. Add to
this, the sails coming in the way of each other,
and either becalming them, or sending the wind
upon them in a direction widely different from
that of its free motion. All these points we think
beyond our power of calculation ; and therefore
that it is in vain to give the seaman mathematical
rules, or even tables of adjustment ready calcu-
lated, since he can neither produce that medium
position of his sails that is required, nor tell what
is the position which he employs.
This is one of the principal reasons why so lit-
tle advantage has been derived from the very in-
genious and promising disquisitions of Bou^uer
and other mathematicians, and has made us omit
the actual solutions of the chief problems, con-
tenting ourselves with pointing out the process
to such readers as have a relish for these analyti-
cal operations. But there is another principal
reason for the small progress which has been
made in the theory of seamanship: this is the
errors of the theory itself, which supposes the im-
pulsions of a fluid to be in the duplicate ratio of
the sine of incidence. The most careful com-
parison which has been made between the results
of this theory and matter of fact, is to be seen in
the experiments made by the members of the
Royal Academy of Sciences at Paris. We sub-
join an abstract of them in the following table ;
where column first gives the angle of incidence,
column second gives the impulsions really ob-
served ; column third the impulses, had they
followed the duplicate ratio of the sines ; and
column fourth the impulses, if they were in the
simple ratio of the sines : —
Angle
of
I IK- ul.
Impul-
sion
observed.
Impulse
as
Sine,.
Impulse
as
Sine.
90
1000
1000
1000
84
989
989
995
78
958
957
978
72
908
905
951
66
845
835
914
60
771
750
866
54
693
655
809
48
615
552
743
42
543
448
669
36
480
346
587
30
440
250
500
24
424
165
407
18
414
96
309
12
406
43
208
6
400
11
105
Here we see an enormous difference in the
great obliquities. When the angle of incidence
is only 6°, the observed impulse is forty times
greater than the theoretical impulse ; at 12° it is
ten times greater ; at 18° it is more than four
times greater; and at 24° it is almost three
greater.
No wonder, then, that the ded actions from this
theory are so useless and so unlike what we fami-
liarly observe. We took notice of this when we
were considering the leeway of a reutanjularbjv,
SEAMANSHIP.
723
and thus saw a reason for admitting an incompa-
rably smaller leeway than what would result from
the laborious computations necessary by the
theory. This error in theory has as great an in-
fluence on the impulsions of air when acting ob-
liquely on a sail ; and the experiments of M.
Robins and of the chevalier Borda, on the oblique
impulsions of air, are perfectly conformable (as
far as they go) to those of the academicians on
water. The oblique impulsions of the wind are,
therefore, much more efficacious for pressing the
ship in the direction of her course than the theory
allows us to suppose ; and the progress of a ship
plying to windward is much greater, both because
the oblique impulses of the wind are more effec-
tive, and because the leeway is much smaller than
we suppose. Were not this the case, it would
be impossible for a square-rigged ship to get to
windward. The impulse on her sails when close
hauled would be so trifling that she would not
have a third part of the velocity which we see her
acquire ; and this trifling velocity would be
wasted in leeway ; for we have seen that the di-
minution of the oblique impulses of the water
is accompanied by an increase of leeway. But
we see that, in the great obliquities, the impulsions
continue to be very considerable, and that even
an incidence of 6° gives an impulse as great as the
theory allows to an incidence of 40°. We may
therefore, on all occasions, keep the yards more
square ; and the loss which we sustain by the
diminution of the very oblique impulse will be
more than compensated by its more favorable di-
rection with respect to the ship's keel. Let us
take an example of this : — Suppose the wind about
two points before the beam, making an angle of
68® with the keel. The theory assigns 43° for
the inclination of the wind to the sail, and 25°
for the trim of the sail. The perpendicular im-
pulse being supposed 1000, the theoretical im-
pulse for 43° is 465. This, reduced in the
proportion of radius to the sine of 25°, gives the
impulse in the direction of the course only 197.
But if we ease off the lee-braces till the yard
makes an angle of 50° with the keel, and allows
the wind an incidence of no more than 18°, we
have the experimented impulse 4 14, which, when
reduced in the proportion of radius to the sine of
50°, gives an effective impulse 317. In like man-
ner, the trim 56°, with the incidence 12°, gives
an effective impulse 337 ; and the trim 62°, with
the incidence only 6°, gives 353.
Hence it would at first sight appear that the
angle D C B of 62° and W C D of 6° would be
better for holding a course within six points of
the wind than any more oblique position of the
sails ; but it will only give a greater initial im-
pulse. As the ship accelerates, the wind appa-
rently comes a-head, and we must continue to
brace up as the ship freshens her way. It is not
unusual for her to enquire half or two-thirds of
the velocity of the wind ; in which case the wind
comes apparently a-head more than two points,
when the yards must be braced up to 35°, and
this allows an impulse no greater than about 7°.
Now this is very frequently observed in good
ships, which in a brisk gale and smooth water
will go five or six knots close hauled, the ship's
bead six points from the wind, and thp sails no
more than just full, but ready to shiver by the
smallest luff. All this would be impossible by
the usual theory ; and in this respect these ex-
periments of the French academy give a fine il-
lustration of the seaman's practice. They ac-
count for what we should otherwise be much
puzzled to explain ; and the great progress which
is made by a ship close hauled, being perfectly
agreeable to what we should expect from the law
of oblique impulsion dedu.cible from these so
often mentioned experiments, while it is totally
incompatible with the common theory, should
make us abandon the theory without hesitation,
and strenuously set about the establishment of
another, founded entirely on experiments. For
this purpose the experiments should be made on
the oblique impulsions of air on as great a scale
as possible, and in as great a variety of circum-
stances, so as to furnish a series of impulsions
for all angles of obliquity. We have but four or
five experiments on this subject, viz., two by Mr.
Robins, and two or three by chevalier Borda.
Having thus gotten a series of impulsions, it is
very practicable to raise on this foundation a
practical institute, and to give a table of the velo-
cities of a ship s'uited to every angle of inclina-
tion and of trim ; for nothing is more certain
than the resolution of the impulse perpendicular
to the sail into a force in the direction of the keel,
and a lateral force.
We also think that experiments might be
made on a model very nicely rigged with sails,
and trimmed in every different degree, which
would point out the mean direction of the im-
pulse on the sails, and the comparative force of
these impulses in different directions of the wind.
The method would be very similar to that of ex-
amining the impulse of the water on the hull.
If this can also be ascertained experimentally,
the intelligent reader will easily see that the
whole motion of a ship under sail may be deter-
mined for every case. Tables may then be con-
structed by calculation, or by graphical operations,
which will give the velocities of a ship in every
different course, and corresponding to every trim
of sail. And let it be here observed that the
trim of the sail is not to be estimated* in degree*
of inclination of the yards ; because, as we have
already remarked, we cannot observe nor adjust
the lateen sails in this way. But, in making the
experiments for ascertaining the impulse, the ex-
act position of the tacks and sheets of the sail?
are to be noted ; and this combination of adjust-
ments is to pass by the name of a certain trim.
Thus that trim of all the sails may be called forty,
whose direction is experimentally found equiva-
lent to a flat surface trimmed to the obliquity 40°.
Having dbne this, we may construct a figure,
for each trim similar to fig. 5, where, instead of
a circle,, we shall have a curve COM' F', whose
chords C F', cf, &c., are proportional to the ve-
locities in these courses; and by means of this
curve we can find the point m', which is most
remote from any line C M from which we wi«-
to withdraw ; and thus we may solve all the prin
cipal problems of the art.
It will not be accounted presumption to ex-
pect more improvement from a theory founded
on judicious experiments only, than from a theory
3 A2
SEAMANSHIP.
of the impulse of fluids, which is found so in-
consistent with observation, and of whose fallacy
all its authors, from Newton to IVAlembert, en-
tertained strong suspicions. With these obser-
rations we conclude our discussion of the first
part of the seaman's task, and now proceed to
consider the means that are employed to prevent
or to produce any deviations from the uniform
rectilineal course which has been selected.
SECT. II. — OF THE MEANS USED TO PREVENT OR
PRODUCE DEVIATIONS FROM A UNIFORM REC-
TILINEAR COURSE.
Here the ship is to be considered as a body in
free space, convertible round her centre of iner-
tia. For, whatever may be the point round
which she turns, this motion may always be con-
sidered as compounded of a rotation round an
axis passing through her centre of gravity or
inertia. She is impelled by the wind and by the
water acting on many surfaces differently inclin-
ed to each other, and the impulse on each is
perpendicular to the surface. In order therefore
that she may continue steadily in one course, it
is not only necessary that the impelling forces,
estimated in their mean direction, be equal and
opposite to the resisting forces estimated in their
mean direction ; but also that these two direc-
tions may pass through one point, otherwise she
will be affected as a log of wood is when push-
ed in opposite directions by two forces, which
are equal indeed, hut are applied to different
parts of the log. A ship must be considered as
a lever, acted on in different parts by forces in
different directions, and the whole balancing
each other round that point or axis where the
equivalent of all the resisting forces passes.
This may be considered as a point supported
by this resisting force, and as a sort of fulcrum ;
therefore, in order that the ship may maintain
her position, the energies or momenta of all the
impelling forces round this point must balance
each other.
W hen a ship sails right afore the wind, with
her yards square, it is evident that the impulses
on each side of the keel are equal, as also their
mechanical momenta round any axis passing
perpendicularly through the keel. So are the
actions of the water on her bows. But when
she sails on an oblique course, with her yards
braced up on either side, she sustains a pressure
in the direction C I (fig. 3) perpendicular to the
sail. This, by giving her a lateral pressure L I,
as well as a pressure C L a-head, causes her to
make leeway, and to move in a line C b inclined
to C B. By this means the balance of action
on the two bows is destroyed ; the general im-
pulse on the lee-bow is increased ; and that on
the weather-bow is diminished. The combined
impulse b therefore no longer in the direction
B C, but (in the state of uniform motion) in the
direction I C.
Suppose that in an instant the whole sails are
annihilated, and the impelling pressure C I,
which precisely balanced the resisting pressure
on the bows, removed. The ship tends, by her
inertia, to proceed in the direction C b. This
tendency produces a continuation of the resist-
ance in the opposite direction I C, which is not
directly opposed to the tendency of the ship in
the direction C 6 ; therefore the ship's head
would immediately come up to the wind. The
experienced seaman will recollect something like-
this when the sails are suddenly lowered when
coming to anchor. It does not happen solely
from the obliquity of the action on the bows : It
would happen to the parallelepiped of our se-
cond diagram, which was sustaining a lateral
impulsion B- sin. *r, and a direct impulsion A-
cos. *x. These are continued fora moment after
the annihilation of the sail ; but being no longer
opposed by a force in the direction C D, but by
a force in the direction C 6, the force B- sin. 2x
must prevail, and the body is not only retarded
in its motion, but its head turns towards the wind.
But this effect of the leeway is greatly increased
by the curved form of the snip's bows. This oc-
casions the centie of effort of all the impulsions
of the water on the lee side of the ship to be very
far forward, and this so much the more remark-
ably as she is sharper afore. It is in general not
much abaft the foremast. Now the centre of the
ship's tendency to continue her motion is the
same with her centre of gravity, and this is gene-
rally but a little before the mainmast in a direc-
tion parallel to C b, and at the foremast by a
force parallel to I C. The evident consequence
of this is a tendency to come up to the wind.
This is independent of all situation of the sail*,
provided only that they have been trimmed ob-
liquely.
This tendency of the ship's head to windward
is called griping in the seaman's language, and
is greatest in ships which are sharp forward, as
we have said already. This circumstance is
easily understood. Whatever is the direction of
the ship's motion, the absolute impulse on that
part of the bow immediately contiguous to B js
perpendicular to that very part of the surface.
The more acute, therefore, that the angle of the
bow is, the more will the impulse on that part be
perpendicular to the keel, and the greater will
be its energy to turn the head to windward.
Thus we are enabled to understand or to see
the propriety of the disposition of the sails of a
ship. We see her crowded with sails forward,
and even many sails extended far before her bow,
such as the spritsail, the bowsprit topsail, the
fore top-mast staysail, the jib and flying jib.
The sairs abaft are comparatively smaller. The
sails on the mizen-mast are much smaller than
those on the foremast. All the staysails hoisted
on the mainmast may be considered as headsails,
because their centres of effort are considerably
before the centre of gravity of the ship ; and,
notwithstanding this disposition, it generally re-
quires a small action of the rudder to counteract
the windward tendency of the lee-bow. This is
considered as a good quality when moderate ;
because it enables the seaman to throw the sails
a-back, and stop the ship's way in a moment, if
she be in danger from any thing a-head ; and
the ship which does not carry a little of a wea-
ther-helm is always a dull sailer.
In order to judge somewhat more accurately
of the action of the water and sails, suppose the
ship A B (fig. 6) to have its sails on the mizen-
mast D, the mainmast E, and foremast F, braced
SEAMANSHIP.
725
- por tnmmea alike, and thai die three lines D i,
Ee, F/', perpendicular to the sails, are in the
proportion of the impulses on the sails. The
ship is driven a-head and to leeward, and moves
in the path a C b. This path is so inclined to
the line of the keel that the medium direction of
the resistance of the water is parallel to the di-
rection of the impulse. A line C I may be
drawn parallel to the lines D j, Ee, F_/", and
equal to their sura ; and it may be drawn from
such a point, C, that the actions on all the parts
of the hull between C and B may balance the
momenta of all the actions on the hull between
C and A. This point may justly be called the
centre of effort, or the ceri-tre of resistance. We
cannot determine this point for want of a pro-
per theory of the resistance of fluids. Nay, al-
though experiments like those of the Parisian
academy should give us the most perfect know-
ledge of the oblique impulses on a square foot,
we should hardly be benefited by them ; for the
action of the water on a square foot of the hull
at p, for instance, is so modified by the interven-
tion of the stream of water which has struck the
hull about B, and glided along the bow Bop,
that the pressure on p is totally different from
what it would have been were it a square foot
or surface detached from the rest, and presented
in the same position to the water moving in the
direction bC. For it is found that the resist-
ances given to planes joined so as to form a
wedge, or to curved surfaces, are widely differ-
ent from the accumulated resistances, calculated
for their separate parts, agreeably to the experi-
ments of the academy on single surfaces. We
therefore do not attempt to ascertain the point
C by theory ; but it may be accurately deter-
mined by the experiments which we have so
strongly recommended , and we offer this as an
additional inducement for prosecuting them.
Draw through C a line perpendicular to C I,
that is, parallel to the sails; and let the lines of
1'iipulse of the three sails cut in the points, i, A-,
and m. This line i m may be considered as a
lover, moveable round C, and acted on at the
points t, A, and m, by three forces. The rota-
: .<ry momentum of the sails on the mizenmast is
! ) i x i C ; that of the sails on the mainmast is
K e X k C ; and the momentum of the sails on
the foremast is K/' x m C. The two first tend
i') press forward the arm C i, and then to' turn
tiio ship's head towards the wind. The action
rf the sails on the foremast tends to pull the arm
(' in forward, and produce a contrary rotation.
1 1 the ship under these three sails keep steadily
in her course, without the aid of the rudder, we
must have I)i x *C -f- Ee X k C •=. F/ X
m C'. This is very possible, and is often seen in
a ship under her mizen topsail, main topsail,
and fore topsail, all parallel to one another, and
their surfaces daily proportioned by reefing. If
more sails are set, we must always have a simi-
lar equilibrium. A certain number of them will
have their efforts directed from the larboard arm
of the lever t m lying to leeward of C », and a
certain number will have their efforts directed
from the starboard arm lying to windward of
C I. The sum of the products of each of the first
set, by their distances from C must be equal to
the sum of the similar products of the other set.
As this equilibrium is all that is necessary for
preserving the ship's position, and the cessation
of it is immediately followed by a conversion ;
and as these states of the ship may be had by
means of the three square sails only, when their
surfaces are properly proportioned — it is plain
that every movement may be executed and ex-
plained by their means. This will greatly sim-
plify our future discussions. We shall therefore
suppose in future that there are only the three
topsails set, and that their surfaces are so adjust-
ed by reefing that their actions exactly balance
each other round that point C, of the middle line
A B, where the actions of the water on the differ-
ent parts of her bottom in like manner balance
each other. This point C may be differently
situated in the ship according to the leeway she
makes, depending on the trim of the sails ; and
therefore, although a certain proportion of the
three surfaces may balance each other in one
state of leeway, they may happen not to do so
in another state. But the equilibrium is evi-
dently attainable in every case, and we therefore
shall always suppose it.
It must no»v be observed that when this equi-
librium is destroyed, as, for example, by turning
the edge of the mizen topsail to the wind, which
the seamen call shivering the mizen topsail, and
which may be considered as equivalent to the
removing the mizen topsail entirely, it does not
follow that the ship will round the point C, this
point remaining fixed. The ship must be con-
sidered as a free body, still acted on by a num-
ber of forces, which no longer balance each other ;
and she must therefore begin to turn round :i
spontaneous axis of conversion, which must b.-;
determined before proceeding farther. It is of
importance to point out in general where this
axis is situated. Therefore let G (fig. 7) be the
centre of gravity of the ship. Draw the line </
G v parallel to the yards, cutting D d in q, E«;
in r, CI in /, and F/inv. While the three
sails are set, the line <jv may be considered as a
lever acted on by four forces, viz. D d, impelling
the lever forward perpendicularly in the point
t] ; E e impelling it forward in the point r ; F/
impelling it forward in the point t;; and CI
impelling it backward in the point /. These
forces balance each other both in respect of pro-
gressive motion and of rotatory energy : for C I
was taken equal to the sum of D d, E e, and
F f; so that no acceleration or retardation of the
ship's progress in her course is supposed.
But, by taking away the mizen topzail, both
the equilibriums are destroyed. A part D d of
the accelerating force is taken away ; and yet the
ship, by her inertia or inherent force, tends, for
a moment, to proceed in the direction Cp with
her former velocity; and by this tendency exerts
for a moment the same pressure C I on the water,
and sustains the same resistance I C. She must
therefore be retarded in her motion by the ex-
cess of the resistance I C over the remaining im-
pelling forces E e and F f, that is, by a force
equal and opposite to D rf. She will therefore
be retarded in the same manner as if the mizen
topsail were still set, and a force equal and op-
posite to its action were applied to G the centre
726
SEAMANSHIP
of gravity, and she would soon acquire a smaller
velocity, which would again faring all things into
equilibrium ; and she would stand on in the
same course, without changing either her leeway
or the position of her head.
But the equilibrium of the lever is also de-
stroyed. It is now acted on by three forces
only, viz. Ee and F /', impelling it forward in
the points r and v, and I C impelling it back-
ward in the point t. Make rv : ro — Ee
+ F/: F/, and make op parallel to C I and
equal to Ee -f- Yf. Then we know, from the
common principles of mechanics, that the force
op acting at o will have the same momentum or
energy to turn the lever round any point what-
ever as the two forces E e and F / applied at r
and v ; and now the lever is acted on by two
forces, viz. I C urging it backwards in the point t,
and op urging it forwards in the point o. It must
therefore turn round like a floating log, which
gets two blows in opposite directions. If we now
make 1C— -op: op~to:tx, or 1C — op :
I C ~ t o : o x, and apply to the point x a force
equal to 1C — op in the direction 1C; we
know, by the common principles of mechanics,
that this force 1C — op will produce the same
rotation round any point as the two forces I C
and op applied in their proper directions at t and
o. Let us examine the situation of the point T.
The force 1C — op is evidently — D d, and
o p is — E e. -f F/. Therefore o t : t x — D d :
op. But because, when all the sails were filled,
there was an equilibrium round C, and therefore
round t, aud because the force o p acting at o is
rquivalent to Ee and F/* acting at r and v, we
must still have the equilibrium ; and therefore we
have the momentum Drf X qt^op X ot. There-
fore o t : t q — D d : op, and t q — t x. There-
fore the point x is the same with the point q.
Therefore, when we shiver the mizen topsail,
the rotation of the ship is the same as if the ship
were at rest, and a force equal and opposite to
the action of the mizen topsail were applied at q
or at D, or at any point in the line D q.
This might have been shown in another and
shorter way. Suppose, all sails filled, the ship
is in equilibrio. This will be disturbed by ap-
plying to D a force opposite to D d; and, if the
force be also equal to D d, it is evident that these
two forces destroy each other, and that this appli-
cation of the force d D is equivalent to the taking
away of the mizen topsail. But we chose to give
the whole mechanical investigation, because it
gave us an opportunity of pointing out to the
reader, in a case of very easy comprehension,
the precise manner in which the ship is acted on
by the different sails and by the water, and what
share each of them has in the motion ultimately
produced. We shall not repeat this manner of
procedure in other cases, because a little reflec-
tion on the part of the reader \\ ill now enable him
to trace the modus operand! through all its steps.
We now see that, in respect both of progres-
-ive motion and of conversion, the ship is af-
fected by shivering the sail D in the same man-
ner as if a force equal and opposite to Dd were
.ipplicd at 1), or at any point in the line Dd.
N\ c must now have recourse to the principles
tslalli hut under the article ROTATION.
Let p represent a particle of matter, r ite
radius vector, or its distance p G from an axis
passing through the centre of gravity G, and lei
M represent the whole quantity of matter of the
ship. Then ks momentum of inertia is ~ / p.
r8. The ship, impelled in the point D by a
force in the direction dD, will begin to turn
round a spontaneous vertical axis, passing through
a point S of the line q G, which is drawn through
the centre of gravity G, perpendicular to the di-
rection d D of the external force, and the distance
G S of this axis from the centre of gravity is —
f,
J~ — and it is taken on the opposite side of
G from q, that is, S and q are on opposite sides
of G.
Let us express the external force by the sym-
bol F. It is equivalent to a certain number of
pounds, being the pressure of the wind moving
with the velocity V and inclination a on the snr
face of the sail D ; and may therefore he com-
puted either by the theoretical or experimental
law of oblique impulses. Having obtained this,
we can ascertain the angular velocity of the ro-
tation, and the absolute velocity of any given
point of the ship. See ROTATION.
But, before we proceed to this investigation,
we shall consider the action of the rudder, which
operates precisely in the same manner. Let the
ship AB (fig. 8) have her rudder in the position
A D, the helm being hard a-starboard, while the
ship sailing on the starboard tack, and making
leeway, keeps on the course a b. The lee sur-
face of the rudder meets the water obliquely.
The very foot of the rudder meets it in the di-
rection D E parallel to a b. Th* parts farther
up meet it with various obliquities, and with
various velocities, as it glides round the bottom
of the ship and falls into the wake. It is abso-
lutely impossible to calculate the accumulated
impulse. We shall not be far mistaken in the
deflection of each contiguous filament, as it quits
the bottom and glides along the rudder ; but we
neither know the velocity of these filaments, nor
the deflection and velocity of the filaments glid-
ing without them. We therefore imagine that
all computations on this subject are in vain. But
it is enough for our purpose that we know the
direction of the absolute pressure which they
exert on its surface. It is in the direction D d,
perpendicular to that surface. We also may be
confident that this pressure is very considerable,
in proportion to the action of the water on the
ship's bows, or of the wind on the sails ; and
we may suppose it to be nearly in the propor-
tion of the square of the velocity of the ship in
her course ; but we cannot affirm it to be accu-
rately in that proportion, for reasons that will
readily occur to one who considers the way in
which the water falls in behind the ship.
It is observed, however, that a fine sailer always
steers well, andthatall movements by means of the
rudder arc performed with great rapidity when the
velocity of the ship is great. We shall see, by and
by, that the speed with which the ship performs
the angular movements is in the proportion of
her progressive velocity: for we shall see that
SEAMANSHIP.
727
the squares of the times of performing the evo-
lutions are as the impulses inversely, which are
as the squares of the velocities. There is per-
haps no force which acts on a ship that can be
more accurately determined by experiment than
this. Let the ship ride in a stream or tideway
whose velocity is accurately measured ; and let
her ride from two moorings, so that her bow
may be a fixed point. Let a small tow-line be
laid out from her stern or quarter at right angles
to the keel, and connected with some apparatus
fitted up on shore or on board another ship, by
which the strain on it may be accurately mea-
sured ; a person conversant with mechanics will
see many ways in which this can be done. Per-
haps the following may be as good as any : let
the end of the tow-line be fixed to some point as
high out of the water as the point of the ship
from which it is given out, and let this be very
high. Let a block with a hook be on the rope,
and a considerable weight hung on this hook.
Things being thus prepared, put down the helm
to a certain angle, so as to cause the ship to sheer
off' from the point to which the far end of the
tow-line is attached. This will stretch the rope,
and raise the weight out of the water. Now
heave upon the rope, to bring the ship back again
to her former position, with her keel in the di-
rection of the stream. When this position is
attained, note carefully the form of the rope, that
is, the angle which its two parts make with the
horizon. Call this angle a. Every person ac-
quainted with these subjects knows that the
horizontal strain is equal to half the weight
multiplied by the cotangent of a, or that 2
is to the cotangent of a as the weight to the
horizontal strain. Now it is this strain which
balances, and therefore measures, the action of
the rudder, or D e in fig. 8. Therefore, to have
the absolute impulse D d, we must increase De
in the proportion of radius to the secant of the
angle b which the rudder makes with the keel.
In a great ship, sailing six miles in an hour, the
impulse on the rudder, inclined 30° to the keel,
is not less than 3000 pounds. The surface of
the rudder of such a ship contains nearly eighty
square feet. It is not, however, very necessary
to know this absolute impulse D d, because it is
its part D e alone which measures the energy of
the rudder in producing a conversion. Such
experiments, made with various positions of the
rudder, will give its energies corresponding to
these positions, and will settle that long disputed
point which is the best position for turning a
ship. On the hypothesis that the impulsions of
fluids are in the duplicate ratio of the sines of
incidence, there can be no doubt that it should
make au angle of 54° 44' with the keel. But
the form of a large ship will not admit of this,
because a tiller of a length sufficient for managing
the rudder in sailing with great velocity has not
room to deviate above 30° from the direction of
the keel ; and in this position of the rudder the
mean obliquity of the filaments of water to its
surface cannot exceed 40° or 45°. A greater
angle would not be of much service, for it is
never for want of a proper obliquity that the
rudder fails of producing a conversion.
A ship misses stays in rough weather for want
of a sufficient progressive velocity, and because
her bows are beat off by the waves ; and there
is seldom any difficulty in wearing the ship, it
she has any progressive motion. It is, however,
always desirable to give the rudder as much in-
fluence as possible. Its surface should be en-
larged (especially below) as much as can be
done consistently with its strength and with the
power of the steersman to manage it; and it «
should be put in the most favourable situation
for the water to get at it with great velocity ;
and it should be placed as far from the axis of
the ship's motion as possible. These points are
obtained by making the stern-post very upright,
as has always been done in the French dock
yards. The British ships have a much greater
rake ; but our builders are gradually adopting
the French forms, experience having taught us
that their ships, when in our possession, are much
more obedient to the helm than our own. In
order to ascertain the motion produced by the
action of the rudder, draw from the centre of
gravity a line Gq perpendicular to D d (D d
being drawn through the centre of effort of the
rudder). Then, as in the consideration of the
action of the sails, we may conceive the line q G
as a lever connected with the ship, and impelled
by a force D d acting perpendicularly at q. The
consequence of this will be an incipient con-
version of the ship about a vertical axis passing
through some point S in the line q G, lying on
the other side of G from q ; and we have, as
in the former case, G S —
' Gq-
Thus the action and effects of the sails, ana
of the rudder, are perfectly similar, and are to be
considered in the same manner. We see that
the action of the rudder, though of a small sur-
face in comparison of the sails, must be very
great ; for the impulse of water is many hundred
times greater than that of the wind ; and the arm
q G of the lever, by which it acts, is incomparably
greater than that by which any of the impulsions
on the sails produces its effect; accordingly
the ship yields much more rapidly to its action
than she does to the lateral impulse of a sail.
If G were a fixed or supported axis, it would
be the same thing whether the absolute force D
d of the rudder acts in the direction D d, or its
transverse part D e acts in the direction D e, both
would produce the same rotation ; but it is not
so in a free body. The force D d both tends to
retard the ship's motion and to produce a rota-
tion : It retards it as much as if the same force
Dd had been immediately applied to the centre.
And thus the real motion of the ship is com-
pounded of a motion of the centre in a direction
parallel to D rf, and of a motion round the centre.
These two constitute the motion round S.
Hence we might deduce that the times of per-
forming similar evolutions with similar ships are
proportional to the lengths of the ships when
both are sailing equally fast ; and since the evo-
lutions are similar, and the forces vary similarly
in their different parts, they not only describe
equal angles of revolution, but also similar
curves.
A small ship, therefore, works in less time and
728
SEAMANSHIP.
in less room than a great ship, and this in the
proportion of its length. This is a great advan-
tage in all cases, particularly in wearing, in order
to sail on the other tack close-hauled. In this
case she will always be to windward and a-head
of the large ship, when both are got on the other
tack. It would appear at first sight that the large
ship will have the advantage in tacking. Indeed
the large ship is farther to windward when again
trimmed on the other tack than the small ship
when she is just trimmed on the other tack. But
this happened before the large ship had completed
her evolution, and the small ship in the mean
time has been going forward on the other tack,
and going to windward. She will therefore be
before the large ship's beam, and perhaps as far
to windward.
VVe have seen that the velocity of rotation
is proportional, caeteris paribus, to F X G q. F
means the absolute impulse on the rudder or
sail, and is always perpendicular to its surface.
This absolute impulse on a sail depends on the
obliquity of the wind on its surface. The usual
theory says that it is as the square of the sine of
incidence : but we find this is not true. We
must content ourselves with expressing it by
some as yet unknown function 0 of the angle of
incidence a, and call it 0 a ; and if S be the sur-
face of the sail, and V the velocity of the wind,
the absolute impulse is n V2 S X 0 «• This acts
(in the case of the mizen-topsail, fig. 7) by the
lever q G, which is equal to D G X cos. D G q,
and D G q is equal to the angle of the yard and
keel ; which angle we formerly called 6. There-
fore its energy in producing a rotation is nV*S
X $ a x D G X cos. b. Leaving out the constant
quantities n, Vs, S, and D G, its energy is pro-
portional to 0 a x cos. b. In order, therefore,
that any sail may have the greatest power to pro-
duce a rotation round G, it must be so trimmed
that <f> a x cos. b may be a maximum. Thus, if
we would trim the sails on the foremast, so as to
pay the ship off from the wind right a-head with
the greatest effect, and if we take the experiments
of the French academicians as proper measures
of the oblique impulses of the wind on the sail,
we shall brace up the yard to an angle of 48°
with the keel. The impulse corresponding to
48° is 615, and the cosine of 48° is 669. These
give a product of 411435. If we brace the sail
to 54-44, the angle assigned by the theory, the
effective impulse is 405274. If we make the angle
45°, the impulse is 408774. It appears then that
48° is preferable to either of the others. But
the difference is inconsiderable, as in all cases of
maximum a small deviation from the best posi-
tion is not very detrimental. But the difference
between the theory and this experimental mea-
sure will be very great when the impulses of the
wind are of necessity very oblique. Thus, in
tacking ship, as soon as the headsails are taken
aback, they serre to aid the evolution, as is evi-
dent : but, if we were now to a<lopt the maxim
inculcated by the theory, we should immediately
round in the weather-braces so as to increase the
impulse on the sail, because it is then very small ;
and although we by this means make yard more
square, tnd therefore diminish the rotatory mo-
mentum of this impulse, yet the impulse is more
increased (by the theory) thau its vertical lever is
diminished. Let us examine this a little more
particularly, because it is reckoned one of the
nicest points of seamanship to aid the ship's
coming round by means of the headsails; and
experienced seamen differ in their practice in
this manoeuvre. Suppose the yard braced up to
40°, which is as much as can be usually done,
and that the sail shivers (the bowlines are usually
let go when the helm is put down), the sail im-
mediately takes aback, and in a moment we may
suppose an incidence of 6°. The impulse cor-
responding to this is 400 (by experiment), and
the cosine of 40° is 766. This gives 306400 for
the effective impulse. To proceed, according to
the theory, we should brace the yard to 70°,
which would give the wind (now 34° on the
weather-bow) an incidence of nearly 36°, and
the sail an inclination of 20°, to the intended
motion, which is perpendicular to the keel. For
the tangent of 20° is about one-half the tangent
of 36°. Let us now see what effective impulse
the experimental law of oblique impulsions will
give for this adjustment of the sails. The expe-
rimental impulse for 36° is 480 ; the cosine of
70° is 342: the product is 164160, not much
exceeding the half of the former. Nay, the im-
pulse for 36°, calculated by the theory, would
have been only 346, and the effective impulse
only 118332. And it must be farther observed
that this theoretical adjustment would tend greatly
to check the evolution, and in most cases would
entirely mar it, by checking the ship's motion a-
head, and consequently the action of the rudder,
which is the most powerful agent in the evolu-
tion, for here would be a great impulse directed
almost a-stern.
We are justifiable, therefore, in saying, in the
beginning of this article, that a seaman would
frequently find himself baffled if he were to
work a ship according to the rules deduced from
M. Bouguer's work ; and we see by this instance
of what importance it is to have the oblique im-
pulsions of fluids ascertained experimentally.
The practice of the most experienced seamen is
directly the opposite to this theoretical maxim,
and its success greatly confirms the usefulness of
those experiments of the academicians so often
praised by us.
We return to the general consideration of the ro-
F.yG
tatory motion. We found the velocity v — s*
It is therefore proportional, caeteris paribus, to
q G. We have seen in what manner q G depends
on the position and situation of the sail or rudder
when the point G is fixed. But it also depends
on the position of G. With respect to the action
of the rudder, it is evident that it is so much the
more powerful as it is more remote from G. The
distance from G may be increased either by
moving the rudder farther aft, or G farther for-
ward. And, as it is of the utmost importance
for a ship to answer her helm with the greatest
prcvnptitude, those circumstances have been at-
tended to which distinguished fine steering ships
from such as had not this quality ; and it is in a
great measure to be ascribed to this that, in the
gradual improvement of naval architecture, the
SEAMANSHIP.
729
centre of gravity has been placed far forward.
Perhaps the notion of a centre of gravity did not
come into the thoughts of the rude builders in
early times : but they observed that those boats
and ships steered best which had their extreme
breadth before the middle point, and conse-
quently the bows not so acute as the stern. This
is so contrary to what one would expect that it
attracted attention more forcibly ; and, being
somewhat mysterious, it might prompt to attempts
of improvement, by exceeding in this singular
maxim. We believe that it has been carried as
far as is compatible with other essential requisites
in a ship.
This is the chief circumstance in what is called
the trim of a ship ; and it were greatly to be
wished that the best place for the centre of gra-
vity could be accurately ascertained. A prac-
tice prevails which is the opposite of what we
are now advancing. It is usual to load a ship
so that her keel is not horizontal, but lower
abaft. This is found to improve her steerage.
The reason of this is obvious. It increases the
acting surface of the rudder, and allows the water
to come at it with much greater freedom and re-
gularity ; and it generally diminishes the griping
of <he ship forward by removing a part of the
bows out of the water. It has not always this
effect ; for the form of the harping aloft is fre-
quently such that the tendency to gripe is dimi-
nished by immersing more of the bow in the
water. But waving these circumstances, and at-
tending only to the rotatory energy of the rud-
der, we see that it is of advantage to carry the
centre of gravity forward. The same advantage
is '.rained to the action of the after-sails. But,
on the other hand, the action of the head-sails is
diminished by it; and we may call every sail a
head-sail whose centre of gravity is before the
centre of gravity of the ship ; that is, all the
sails hoisted on the bowsprit and foremast ; and
the staysails hoisted on the mainmast ; for the
centre of gravity is seldom far before the main-
mast.
Suppose that, when the rudder is put into the
position A D (fig. 8), the centre of gravity could
be shifted to g, so as to increase q G, and that
this is done without increasing the sum of the
products p r3, it is obvious that the velocity of
conversion will be increased in the proportion
of (j G to q g. This is very possible by bringing
to that side of the ship parts of her loading which
were situated at a distance from G on the other
side. Nay we can make this change in such a
mannerthat / p r a shall even be less than it was
«_/
before, by taking care that every thing which we
sluft shall be nearer to g than it was formerly
to G. Suppose it all placed in one spot m,
and that m is the quantity of matter so shifted,
while M is the quantity of matter in the whole
ship. It is only necessary that m g G1 shall be
less than the sum of the products p r2 correspond-
ing to the matter whicli has been shifted. Now
although the matter, which is easily moveable,
is generally very small in comparison to the
whole matter of the ship, and therefore can make
hut a small change in the place of the centre of
gravity, it may frequently be brought from places
so remote that it may occasion a very sensible
diminution of the quantity / pr3, which ex-
presses the whole momentum of inertia.
This explains a practice of the seamen in
small wherries or skiffs, who in putting about
are accustomed to place themselves to leeward
of the mast. They even find that they can aid
the quick motions of these light boats by the
way in which they rest on their two feet, some-
times leaning all on one foot, and sometimes on
the other. And we have often seen this evolution
very sensibly accelerated in a ship of war, by the
crew running suddenly, as the helm is put down,
to the lee-bow. And we have heard it asserted
by very expert seamen that, after all attempts to
wear ship (after lying-to in a storm) have failed,
they have succeeded by the crew collecting diem-
selves near the weather fore-shrouds the moment
the helm was put down. It must be agreeable
to the reflecting seaman to see this practice sup-
ported by undoubted mechanical principles.
SECT. III. — OF THE PRINCIPAL EVOLUTIONS.
We conclude this dissertation by describing
some of the chief movements or evolutions. What
we have said hitherto is intended for the instruc-
tion of the artist, by making him sensible of the
mechanical procedure. The description is rather
meant for the amusement of the landsman, and
enabling him to understand operations that are
familiar to the seaman. The latter will perhaps
smile at the awkward account given of his busi-
ness by one who cannot hand, reef, nor steer.
1. To tack ship. — The ship must first of all be
kept full, that is, with a very sensible angle of
incidence on the sails, and by no means hugging
the wind. For, as this evolution is chiefly per-
formed by the rudder, it is necessary to give the
ship a good velocity. When the ship is observed
to luff up of herself, that moment is to be calched
for beginning the evolution, because she will by
her inherent force continue this motion. The
helm is then put down. When the officer calls
out, ' Helm's a-lee,' the fore-sheet, fore-top bow-
line, jib, and flag sail sheets forward are let go.
The jib is frequently hauled down. Thus the
obstacles to the ship's head coming up to the
wind by the action of the rudder are removed.
If the mainsail is set, it is not unusual to clue
up the weather side, which may be considered
as a head-sail, because it is before the centre of
gravity. The mizen must be hauled out, and
even the sail braced to windward. Its power in
paying off the stern from the wind conspires with
the action of the rudder. It is really an aerial
rudder. The sails are immediately taken a-back.
In this state the effect of the mizen topsail would
be to obstruct the movement, by pressing the stern
the contrary way to what it did before. It is
therefore either immediately braced about sharp
on the other tack, or lowered. Bracing it about
evidently tends to pay round the stern from the
wind, and thus assists in bringing the head up to
the wind. But in this position it checks the
progressive motion of the ship, on which the evo-
lution chiefly depends. For a rapid evolution,
therefore, it is as well to lower the wizen-topsail.
Meantime the head-sails are all a-back, and I'HK
730
SEAMANSHIP.
action of wind on them tends greatly to pay
the ship round. To increase this effect it is not
unusual to haul the fore-top bowline again. The
sails on the mainsail are now almost becalmed ;
and therefore when the wind is right a-head, or
a little before, the mainmast is hauled round and
braced up sharp on the other tack with all expe-
dition. The stay-sail sheets are now shifted over
to their places for the other tack. The ship is
now entirely under the power of the headsail and
of the rudder, and their actions conspire to pro-
mote the conversion. The ship has acquired an
angular motion, and will preserve it, so that now
the evolution is secured she falls off apace from
the wind on the other tack. The farther action
of the rudder is therefore unnecessary, and would
even be prejudicial, by causing the ship to fall
off too much from the wind before the sails can
be shifted and trimmed for sailing on the other
tack. It is therefore proper to right the helm
when the wind is right a-head, that is, to bring
the rudder into the direction of the keel. The
ship continues her conversion by her inherent
force and the action of the headsails.
When the ship has fallen off about four points
from the wind, the headsails are hauled round,
and trimmed sharp on the other tack with all
expedition ; and although this operation was be-
gun with the wind four points on the bow it will
be fixed before the sails are braced up, and there-
fore the headsails will immediately fill. The
aftersails have filled already, while the headsails
were inactive, and therefore immediately check
the farther falling off from the wind. All sails
now draws, for the staysail sheets have been
shifted over while they were becalmed or shak-
ing in the wind. The ship now gathers way, and
will obey the smallest motion of the helm to
bring her close to the wind.
We have here supposed that during all this
operation the ship preserves her progressive mo-
tion. She must therefore have described a curve
line advancing all the while to windward. Fig.
10 is a representation of this evolution when it
is performed in the completest manner. The
ship standing on the course £ a, with the wind
blowing in the direction W F, has her helm put
hard a-lee when she is in the position A. She
immediately deviates from her course, and, des-
cribing a curve, comes to the position B, with
the wind blowing in the direction W F of the
yards, and the square sails now shiver. The
mizen-topsail is here represented braced sharp on
the other tack, by which its tendency to aid the
angular motion (while \t checks the progressive
motion) is distinctly seen. The main and fore-
sails are now shivering, and immediately after
are taken aback. The effect of this on the head-
sails is distinctly seen to be favorable to the con-
^L>rsion, by pushing the point Fin the direction
1 i ; but for the same reason it continues to re-
lard the progressive motion. When the ship
lias attained to the position C, the mainsail, is
hauled round and trimmed for the other tack.
The impulse in the direction Fi still aids the
conversion and retards the progressive motion.
When the ship has attained a position between
( and D, such that the main and mizen topsail-
yards are in the direction of the wind, there is
nothing to counteract the force of the headsails,
to pay the ship's head off from the wind. Nay,
during the progress of the ship to this interme-
diate position, if any wind gets at the main or
mizen topsails, it acts on their anterior surfaces,
and impels the after parts of the ship away from
the curve abed, and thus aids the revolution.
We have therefore said that when once the sails
are taken fully aback, and particularly when the
wind is brought right a-head, it is scarcely possi-
ble for the evolution to sail ; as soon, therefore,
as the main topsail (trimmed for the other tack)
shivers, we are certain that the head sails will
be filled by the time they are hauled round and
trimmed. The staysails are filled before this, be-
cause their sheets have been shifted and they
stand much sharper than the square-sails ; and
thus every thing tends to check the falling off
from the wind on the other tack, and this no
sooner than it should be done. The ship imme-
diately gathers way, and holds on in her new
course dG.
But it frequently happens that in this conver-
sion the ship loses her whole progressive motion.
This sometimes happens while the sails are shi-
vering before they are taken fully a-back. It is
evident that in this case there is little hope of
success, for the ship now lies like a log, and
neither sails nor rudder have any action. The
ship drives to leeward like a log, and the water
acting on the lee-side of the rudder checks a lit-
tle the driving of the stern. The head therefore
falls off again, and by and by the sails fill, and
the ship continues on her former tack. This is
called missing stays, and it is generally owing
to the ship's having too little velocity at the be-
ginning of the evolution. Hence the propriety
of keeping the sails well filled for some little
time before. Rough weather, too, by raising a
wave which beats violently on the weather bow,
frequently checks the first luffing of the ship,
and beats her off again.
If the ship loses all her motion after the head
sails have been fully taken a-back, and before
we have brought the wind right a-head, the evo-
lution becomes uncertain, but by no means des-
perate ; for the action of the wind on the head-
sails will presently give her stern-way. Suppose
this to happen when the ship is in the position
C. Bring the helm over hard to windward, so
that the rudder shall have the position represent-
ed by the small dotted line of. It is evident
that the resistance of the water to the stern-way
of the rudder acts in a favorable direction, push-
ing the stern outwards. In the mean time the
action of the wind on the headsails pushes the
head in the opposite direction. These actions
conspire therefore in promoting the evolution ;
and, if the wind is right a-heud, it cannot fail,
but may even be completed speedily, because the
ship gathers stern-way, and the action of the rud-
der becomes very powerful ; and, as soon as the
wind comes on the former lee-bow, the action
of the water on the now lee-quarter will greatly
accelerate the conversion. When the wind there-
fore has once been brought nearly right a-head,
there is no risk of being baffled.
But, should the ship have lost all her head-way
considerably before this, the evolution is very
SEAMANSHIP.
73'
uncertain ; for the action of the water on the
rudder may not be nearly equal to its contrary
action on the lee-quarter; in which case the ac-
tion of the wind on the headsails may not be
sufficient to make up the difference. When this
is observed, when the ship goes astern without
changing her position, we must immediately
throw the headsails completely a-back, and put
the helm down again, which will pay off the
ship's head from the wind enough to enable us
to fill the sails again on the same tack, to try
our fortune again ; or we must boxhaul the ship,
in die manner to be described by and by.
Such is the ordinary process of tacking ship;
a process in which all the different modes of ac-
tion of the rudder and sails are employed. To
execute this evolution in the most expeditious
manner, and so as to gain as much on the wind
as possible, is considered as the test of an expert
seaman. We have described the process which
is best calculated for ensuring the movement.
But if the ship be sailing very briskly in smooth
water, so that there is no danger of missing stays,
we may gain more to windward considerably by
keeping fast the fore-top bowline, and the jib
and staysail sheets, till the square-sails are all
shivering ; for these sails, continuing to draw
with considerable force, and balancing each
other tolerably fore and aft, keep up the ship's
velocity very much, and thus maintain the power
of the rudder. If we now let all fly when the
square-sails are shivering, the ship may be con-
sidered as without sails, but exposed to the ac-
tion of the water on the lee-bow ; from which
arises a strong pressure of the bow to windward
which conspires with the action of the rudder to
aid the conversion. It evidently leaves all that
tendency of the bow to windward which arises
from leeway, and even what was counteracted
by the formerly unbalanced action of these head-
staysails. This method lengthens the whole
time of the evolution, but it advances the ship
to windward. Observe, too, that keeping fast
the fore-top bowline till the sail shivers, and
then letting it go, insures the taking a-back of
that sail, and thus instantly produces an action
that is favorable to the evolution.
The most expert seamen, however, differ
among themselves with respect to these two me-
thods, but the first is the most generally prac-
tised in the British navy, because least liable to
fail. The forces which oppose the conversion
are sooner removed, and the production of a fa-
vorable action by the backing of the fore-topsail
is also sooner obtained, by letting go the fore-
top bowline at the first. Having entered so
minutely into the description and rationale of
this evolution, we have sufficiently turned the
reader's attention to the different actions which
co-operate in producing the motions of conver-
sion. We shall therefore be very brief in our
description of the other evolutions.
2. To u-ear ship. — When the seaman sees that
nis ship will not go about head to wind, but
will miss stays, he must change his tacK the
other way ; that is, by turning her head away
fiom the wind, going a little way before the
wind, and then hauling the wind on the other
tack. This is called wearing or veering ship.
It is most necessary in stormy weather with lit-
tle sail, or in very faint breezes, or in a disabled
ship. The process is exceedingly simple ; and
the mere narration of the procedure is sufficient
for showing the propriety of every part of it.
Watch for the moment of the ship's falling off,
and then haul up the mainsail and mizen, and
shiver the mizen top-sail, and put the helm a-
weatlier. When the ship falls off sensibly (and
not before) let go the bowlines. Ease away
the fore-sheet, raise the fore-tack, and gather aft
the weather fore-sheet, as the lee-sheet is eased
away. Round in the weather-braces of the fore
and main masts, and keep the yards nearly bi-
secting the angle of the wind and keel, so that
when the ship is before the wind, the yards may
be square. It may even be of advantage to
round in the weather-braces of the main-topsail
more than those of the headsails ; for the main-
mast is abaft the centure of gravity. All this
while the mizen topsail must be kept shivering,
by rounding in the weather-braces as the ship
pays off from the wind. Then the main-topsail
will he braced up for the other tack by the time
that we have brought the wind on the weather
quarter. After this it will be full, and will aid
the evolution. When the wind is right aft, shift
the jib and staysail sheets. The evolution now
goes on with great rapidity ; therefore briskly
haul on board the fore and main tacks, and haul
out the mizen, and set the mizen-staysail as soon
as they will take the wind the right way. We
must now check the great rapidity with which
the ship comes to the wind on the other tack, by
righting the helm before we bring the wind on
the beam ; and all must be trimmed sharp fore
and aft by this time, that the headsails may take
and check the coming-to. All being trimmed,
stand on close by the wind.
We cannot help losing a great deal of ground
in this movement. Therefore, though it be very
simple, it requires much attention and rapid
execution to do it with as little loss of ground as
possible. One is apt to imagine at first that it
would be better to keep the headsails braced up
on the former tack,, or at least not to round in
the weather-braces so much as is here directed.
When the ship is right afore the wind, we should
expect assistance from the obliquity of the head-
sails ; but the rudder being the principal agent
in the evolution, it is found that more is gained
by increasing the ship's velocity, than by a
smaller impulse on the headsails more favorably
directed. Experienced seamen differ, however,
in their practice in respect of this particular.
3. To boxhaul a ship. — This is a process per-
formed only in critical situations, as when a rock,
or ship, or some danger, is suddenly seen right
a-head, or when a ship misses stays. It requires
the most rapid execution.
The ship being close-hauled on a wind, haul
up the mainsail and mizen, and shiver the top-
sails, and put the helm hard a-lee altogether.
Raise the fore-tack, let go the head bowlines,
and brace about the headsails sharp on the other
tack. The ship will quickly lore her way, get
stern-way, and' then fall off, by the joint action
of the headsails and of the inverted mdder.
When she has fallen off eight points, brace
732
SEA M A N SHIP.
the after-sails square, which have hitherto been
kept shivering. This will at first increase the
power of the rudder, by increasing the stern-
way, and at the same time it makes no opposition
to the conversion which is going on. The con-
tinuation of her circular motion will presently
cause them to take the wind on their after sur-
faces. This will check the stern-way, stop it,
and give the ship a little headway. Now shift
the helm, so that the rudder may again act in
conjunction with the headsails in paying her off
from the wind. This is the critical part of the
evolution, because the ship has little or no way
through the water, and will frequently remain
long in this position. But, as there are no coun-
teracting forces, the ship continues to fall off.
Then the weather-braces of the after-sails may
be gently rounded in, so that the wind acting on
their hinder surfaces may both push the ship a
little a-head, and her stern laterally in conjunction
with the rudder. Thus the wind is brought
upon the quarter, and the hfadsails shiver. By
this time the ship has acquired some headway.
A continuation of the rotation would now fill the
headsails, and their acti'on would be contrary to
the intended evolution. They are therefore imme-
diately braced the other way, nearly square, and
the evolution is now completed in the same
manner with the wearing ship.
Some seamen brace all the sails a-back the mo-
ment that the helm is put hard a-lee, but the
after-sails no more a-back than just to square the
yards. This quickly gives the ship stern-way,
and brings the rudder into action in its inverted
direction; and they think that the evolution is
accelerated by this method.
There is another problem of seamanship de-
serving of our attention, which cannot properly be
called an evolution. This is lying-to. This is
done in general by laying some sails back, so as
to stop the head-way produced by others. But
there is a considerable address necessary for
doing this in such a way that the ship shall lie
easily, and under command, ready to proceed in
her course, and easily brought under weigh.
To bring-to with the fore or main-topsail to
the- mast, brace that sail sharp a-back, haul out
the mizen, and clap the helm hard a-lee.
Suppose the fore-topsail to be a-back ; the other
sails shoot the ship a-head, and the lee-helm
makes the ship come up to the wind, which
makes it come more perpendicularly on the sail
which is a-back. Then its impulse soon exceeds
those on the other sails, which are now shivering,
or almost shivering. The ship stands still awhile,
and then falls off, so as to fill the after-sails,
which again shoot her ahead, and the process is
thus repeated. A ship lying-to in this way goes
a good deal a-head and also to leeward, if the
main-topsail be a-back, the ship shoots a-head,
and comes up till the diminished impulse of the
drawing sails in the direction of the keel is ba-
lanced by the increased impulse on the main-
topsail. She lies a long while in this position,
driving slowly to leeward; and she at last falls
off by the beating of the water on her weather-
bow. She falls off but little, and soon comes
up again.
Thus a ship lyinar-to ;« not like a mere lo-r,
but has a certain motion which keeps her unde.
command. To get under weigh again, we must
watch the time of falling oft'; and when this is
just about to finish, brace about briskly, and fill
the sail which is a-back. To aid this operation,
the jib and fore-topmast staysail may be hoisted,
and the mizen brailed up ; or, when the intended
course is before the wind or large, back the fore-
topsail sharp, shiver the main and mizen topsail,
brace up the mizen, and hoist the jib and fore-
top-mast staysails altogether.
In a storm with a contrary wind, or on a lee
shore, a ship is obliged to lie-to under a very
low sail. Some sail is absolutely necessary, in
order to keep the ship steadily down, otherwise
she would kick about like a cork, and roll so
deep as to strain and work herself to pieces.
Different ships behave best under different sails.
In a very violent gale, the three lower staysails
are in general well adapted for keeping her
steady, and distributing the strain. This mode
seems also well adapted for wearing, which may
be done by hauling down the mizen-staysail.
Under whatever sail the ship is brought-to in a
storm, it is always with a fitted sail, and never
with one laid a-back. The helm-is lashed down
hard a-lee; therefore the ship shoots a-head, and
comes up till the sea on her weather-bow beats
her oft' again. Getting under weigh is generally
difficult ; because the ship and. rigging are lofty
abaft, and hinder her from falling off readily
when the helm is put*hard a-weather. We mu.->L
watch the falling off, and assist the ship by some
small headsail. Sometimes the crew get up on
the weather fore-shrouds in a crowd, and thus
present a surface to the wind.
These examples of the three chief evolutions
will enable those who are not seamen to un-
derstand the propriety of the different steps,
and also to understand the other evolutions as
they are described by practical authors. \\ f
are not acquainted with any performance in our
language where the whole are considered in a con-
nected, scientific, and systematic manner.
We add the following collection and explana
tion of terms used in seamanship as useful not
merely to seamen but to all voyagers : —
Aback. The situation of the sails, when their
surfaces are pressed aft against the mast by the
force of the wind.
Abaft. The hinder part of a ship, or towards
the stern. It also signifies farther aft or nearer
to the stern ; as, the barricade stands abaft the
main mast ; that is, nearer to the stern.
Abaft the beam denotes the. relative situation
of any object with the ship, when the object is
placed in any part of that arch of the horizon
which is contained between :i line at right angle*
with the keel and that point of the compass
which is directly opposite to the ship's course.
See Bearing.
Aboard. The inside of a ship.
Aboard main tack! The order to draw the
lower corner of the mainsail down to tlie dies-
tree.
About. The situation of a ship as soon as she
has tacked or changed her course.
About ship! The order to the ship's en w i»
prepare for tacking.
SEA M A X S II I P.
733
4-Vf
D; E \ SF
Abreftst. The situation of two or more ships
lying with their sides parallel, and their heads
equally advanced ; in which case they are
abreast of each other, as are the
ships A RC. But, if their sides
be not parallel, then that ship - fi- • -•••
which is in a line with the beam
of the other is said to be
abreast of her, as the ship E is
abreast of D :md F. With re-
i;:ird to objects within the ship
it implies on a line parallel
with the beam, or at right angles
with the ship's length. Abreast of any place
means off or directly opposite to it.
Adrift. The state of a ship broken from her
moorings, and driving about without control.
Afloat. Buoyed up by the water from the
ground.
Afore, All that part of a ship which lies for-
ward, or near the stem. It also signifies farther
forward ; as, the manger stands afore the fore-
mast ; that is, nearer to the stem.
Aft. Behind, or near the stern of a ship.
After. A phrase applied to any object in the
hinder part of the ship, as the after-hatchway,
the after-sails, &c.
A-ground. The situation of a ship when her
bottom or any part of it rests on the ground.
A-head. Any thing which is situated on that
point of the compass to which a ship's stem is
directed is said to be a-htad of her. See Bea~-
Ulf.
A-hull. The situation of a ship, when all her
snils are furled and her helm is lashed to the
lee side ; by which she lies nearly with her side
to the wind and sea, her head being somewhat in-
clined to the direction of the wind.
A-lee. The position of the helm when it is
pushed down to the lee-side.
All in the wind. The state of a ship's sails,
when they are parallel to the direction of the
wind, so as to shake or shiver.
All hands hoay ! The call by which all the
ship's company are summoned upon deck.
Aloft. Up in the tops, at the mast-heads, or
any where about the higher rigging.
Along-side. Side by side, or joined to a ship,
wharf, &c.
Along-shore. Along the coast ; a course
which is in sight of the shore, and nearly parallel
to it.
Amain. At once, suddenly : as, let go amain !
A-mid ships. The middle of a ship, either with
regard to her length or breadth.
To anchor. To let the anchor fall into the
Aground, for tli£ ship to ride thereby.
Anchorage. Ground, fit to hold a ship by her
anchor.
The anchor is a cock-bill. The situation of the
anchor, when it drops down perpendicularly
from the cat-head, ready to be sunk at a mo-
ment's warning.
An-end. The position of any mast, &c.,
when erected perpendicularly on the deck. The
top-masts are said to be an-end when they are
hoisted up to their usual stations.
A-peek. Perpendicular to the anchor; the
cable having been drawn so tight as to bring the
ship directly over it. The anchor is then said to
be a-peek.
A-shi>re. On the shore, as opposed to aboard.
It also means a-ground.
A-stern. Any distance behind a ship, as op-
posed to a-head. See Bear inn.
At anchor. The situation of a ship riding by
her anchor.
Athwart. Across the line of a ship's course.
Athwart-hause. The situation of a ship when
driven by accident across the fore part of ano-
ther, \vhether they touch or are at a small dis-
tance from e ich other, the transverse position of
the former being principally understood.
Athwart the fore foot. When any object
crosses the line of a ship's course, but a-head of
her, it is said to be athwart her fore foot.
Athicurt-ships. Reaching, or in a direction
across the ship from one side to the other.
Atrip. When applied to the anchor, it means
that the anchor is drawn out of the ground, and
hangs, in a perpendicular direction, by the cable
or buoy-rope. The topsails are said to be atrip
when they are hoisted up to the mast-head, or to
their utmost extent.
Avast! The command to stop, or cease, in
any operation.
Aweigh. The same as atrip, when applied to
the anchor.
To back the anchor. To carry out a small an-
chor a head of the large one, in order to support
it in bad ground, and to prevent it from loosen-
ing or coming ho.ne.
To back a-stern, in rowing, is to impel the
boat with her stern foremost, by means of the oars.
To back the sails. To arrange them in a situ-
tion that will occasion the ship to move a-stern.
To bagpipe the mizen. To lay it a-back, by
bringing the sheet to the mizen shrouds.
To balance. To contract a sail into a narrower
compass, by folding up a part of it at one comer.
Balancing is peculiar to the mizen of a ship,
and the mainsail of those vessels wherein it is
extended by a boom.
Bare poles. When a ship has no sail set she
is under bare poles.
Bearing. The situation of one place from
another, with regard to the points of the com-
pass. The situation also of any di.-tant object,
estimated from some part of the ship, according
to her situation :
these latter bear-
ings are either on
the beam, as A
and B ; before
the beam, as the
arcs A D and
DB; abaft the
beam, as the arcs
AC andCB; on
the lee or weather
bow, as the lines
E E ; on the lee
or weather quar-
E
ter, as the lines F F ; a-head, as the line D ; or
a-stern, as the line C.
Bear a-hand! Make haste, despatch.
To bear in with the land is when a ship sails
towards the shore.
734
SEAMANSHIP.
To bear off". To thrust or keep off from the
ship's side, &LC., any weight, when hoisting.
To tear up, or away.
The act of changing a
ship's course, to make *
her sail more before the jj
wind. Thus the ship A ^ ...-^^-..
bears away from a close- jj %£
hauled course, when she ••'' ^w.
gets into either of the
courses B and C.
Beating to windward. The making a progress
against the direction of the wind, by steering
alternately close hauled on the starboard and lar-
board tacks.
To becalm. To intercept the current of the
wind, in its passage to a ship, by any contiguous
object, as a shore above her sails, a high sea be-
hind, &c. ; and thus one sail is said to becalm
another.
Before the beam denotes an arch of the horizon
comprehended between the line of the beam and
that point of the compass on which the ship
sterns. See Bearing.
To belay. To fasten a rope, by winding it
several times round a cleat or pin.
To bend a sail is to affix to it its proper yard
or stay.
Beneaped. See Neaped.
Berth. The station in which a ship rides at
anchor, either alone or in a fleet; the due dis-
tance between two ships ; and also a room or
apartment on board for the officers of a mess.
Between decks. The space contained between
any two decks of a ship.
Bilge water is that which, by reason of the
flatness of a ship's bottom, lies on her floor, and
cannot go to the well of the pump.
To bitt the cable is to confine the cable to the
bitts, by one turn under the cross piece and
another turn round the bitt-head. In this posi-
tion it may be either kept fixed or it may be
veered away.
Bitter. The turn of the cable round the bitts.
Bitter-end. That part of the cable which stays
within board roundabout the bitts when the ship
is at anchor.
A board is the distance run by a ship on one
tack ; thus they say, a good board, when a ship
does not go to leeward of her course ; a short
board and along board, according to the distance
run.
Board-and-buard. When two ships come so
near as to touch each other, or when they lie
side-by-side.
To board a ship. To enter an enemy's ship in
an engagement.
Bold shore. A steep coast, permitting the
close approach of shipping.
Boot-topping. Cleaning the upper part of a
ship's bottom, or that part which lies imme-
diately under the surface of the water ; and daub-
ing it over with tallow, or with a mixture of
tallow, sulphur, resin, &c.
Both sheets aft. The situation of a ship sail-
ing right before the wind.
Bow grace. A frame of old rope or junk,
laid out at the bows, stems, and sides, of ships,
to prevent them from being injured by flakes of
To bowse. To pull upon any body with a
tackle, in order to remove it.
Boxhauling. A particular method of veering
a ship, when the swell of the sea renders tacking
impracticable.
Basing. An operation somewhat similar to
boxhauling. It is performed by laying the head-
sails a-back, to receive the greatest force of the
wind in a line perpendicular to their sudaces, in
order to return the ship's head into the line of
her course, after she had inclined to windward
of it.
To brace the yards. To move the yards, by
means of the braces, to any direction required.
To brace about. To brace the yards round for
the contrary tack.
To brace sharp. To brace the yards to a po-
sition in which they will make the smallest
possible angle with the keel, for the ship to have
head-way.
To brace-to. To ease off the lee braces, and
round in the weather braces, to assist the motion
of the ship's head in tacking.
To brail up. To haul up a sail by means of
the brails, for the more readily furling it when
necessary.
Brails. A name peculiar to certain ropes be-
longing to the mizen, used to truss it up to the
mast. But it is likewise applied to all the ropes
which are employed in hauling up the bottoms,
lower corners, and skirths, of the other great
sails.
To break bulk. The act of beginning to un-
load a ship.
To break sheer. When a ship at anchor is
forced by the wind or current from that position
in which she keeps her anchor most free of her-
self and most firm in the ground, so as to endan-
ger the tripping of her anchor, she is said to
break her sheer.
Breaming. Burning off the filth from a ship's
bottom.
Breast-fast. A rope employed to confine a
ship side-ways to a wharf or to some other ship.
To bring by the lee. See to Broach to.
To bring to. To check the course of a ship
when she is advancing, by arranging the sails in
such a manner as that they shall counteract each
other, and prevent' her from either retreating or
advancing. See to lie to.
To broach to: To incline suddenly to wind-
ward of the ship's course, so as to present her
side to the wind, and endanger her oversetting.
The difference between broaching to and bringing
by the lee may be thus defined : Suppose a ship
under great sail to be steering south, having the
wind at N. N. W.J: then west is the weather-side,
and east the lee-side. If, by any accident, her
head turns round to the westward, so as that her
sails are all taken a-back on the weather-side, she
is said to broach to. If, on the contrary, her
head declines so far eastward as to lay her sails
a-back on that side which was the lee-side, it is
called bringing by the lee.
Broadside. A discharge of all the guns on
one side of a ship both above and below.
Brokenbacked. The state of a ship which is*
so loosened in her frame as to drop at cacli erm.
By the board. Over the ship's side.
SEAMANSHIP.
735
By the head. The state of a ship when she is
so unequally loaded as to draw more water for-
ward than aft.
By the wind. The course of a ship as near
as possible to the direction of the wind, which
is generally within six points of it.
To careen. To incline a ship on one side so
low c ,-wn, by the application of a strong pur-
chase to her masts, as that her bottom on the
other side may be cleansed by breaming.
Casting. The motion of falling off, so as to
bring the direction of the wind on either side of
the ship after it had blown some time right a-head.
It is particularly applied to a ship about to weigh
anchor.
To cat the anchor is to hook the cat-block to
the ring of the anchor and haul it up close to the
cat-bead.
Cat's paw. A light air of wind perceived at a
distance in a calm, sweeping the surface of the
sea very lightly, and dying away before it
reaches the ship.
Centre. This word is applied to that squad-
ron of a fleet, in line of battle, which occupies the
middle of the line; and to that column (in the
order of sailing) which is between the weather
and lee columns.
Change the mizen. Bring the mizen-yard over
to the other side of the mast.
Chapeling. The act of turning a ship round
in a light breeze of wind when she is close-
hauled, so as that she will lie the same way she
did before. This is usually occasioned by neg-
ligence in steering or by a sudden change of
wind.
Chase. A vessel pursued by some other.
Chaser. The vessel pursuing.
Cheerly. A phrase implying heartily, quickly,
cheerfully.
To c'aw aft'. The act of turning to windward
from a lee-snore to escape shipwreck, &c.
Clear is variously applied. The weather is
said to be clear when it is fair and open ; the
sea-coast is clear when the navigation is not in-
terrupted by rocks, Sec. It is applied to cord-
age, cables, &c., when they are disentangled, so
as to be ready for immediate service. In all these
senses it is opposed to foul.
To clear the anchor is to get the cable off the
flukes, and to disencumber it of ropes ready for
dropping.
Clt-ur lumse. When the cables are directed to
their anchors without lying athwart the stem.
To clear the hause is to untwist the cables when
they are entangled by having either a cross, an
elbow, or a round turn.
Clenched. Made fast, as the cable is to the
ring of the anchor.
Close-hauled. That trim of the ship's sails
when she endeavours to make a progress in the
nearest direction possible towards that point of
the compass from which the wind blows.
To club-haul. A method of tacking a ship
when it is expected she will miss stays on a lee-
shore.
To clue up. To haul up the clues of a sail
to its yard by means of the clue-lines.
Coatting. The act of making a progress along
the sea-coast of any country.
To coil the cable. To lay it round in a ring:
one turn over another.
To come home. The anchor is said to come
home when it loosens from the ground by the
effort of the cable, and approaches the place
where the ship floated, at the length of her moor-
ings.
Coming to denotes the approach of a ship's
head to the direction of the wind.
Course. The point of the compass on which
a ship steers.
Crank. The quality of a ship, which, for
want of sufficient ballast, is rendered incapable
of carrying sail without being exposed to the
danger of oversetting.
To croud sail. To carry more sail than ordi-
nary.
Cunning. The art of directing the steersman
to guide the ship in her proper course.
To cut and run. To cut the cable and make
sail instantly, without waiting to weigh anchor.
To deaden a ship's way. To impede her pro
gress through the water.
Dead wattr. The eddy of water which ap-
pears like whirl-pools, closing in with the ship's
stern as she sails on.
Dismasted. The state of a ship that has lost
her masts.
Doubling. The act of sailing round or passing
beyond a cape or point of land.
Doubling upon. The act of enclosing any part
of a hostile fleet between two fires, or of can-
nonading it on both sides.
To dowse. To lower suddenly, or slacken.
To drag the anchor. To trail it along the bot-
tom, after it is loosened from the ground.
To draw. When a sail is inflated by the
wind, so as to advance the sail in her course,
the sail is said to draw ; and so to keep alldraw~
ing is to inflate all the sails.
Drift. The angle which the line of a ship's
motion makes with the nearest meridian, when
she drives with her side to the wind and waves,
and not governed by the power of the helm. It
also implies the distance which the ship drive'
on that line.
Driving. The state of being carried at ran-
dom, as impelled by a storm or current. It is
generally expressed of a ship when accidentally
broke loose from her anchors or moorings.
Drop. Used sometimes to denote the depth
of a sail ; as the fore-top-sail drops twelve yards.
To drop anchor. Used synonymously with tc
anchor.
To drop a-stern. The retrograde motion of a
ship.
To ease, to ease away, or to ease off". To
slacken gradually ; thus they say, ease the bow-
line, ease the sheet.
Ease the ship ! The command given by the
pilot, to the steersman, to put the helm hard
a-lee, when the ship is expected to plunge her
fore part deep in the water when close-hauled.
To edge away. To decline gradually from
the shore or from the line of the course which
the ship formerly held, in order to go more
large.
To edge in with. To advance gradually tow-
ards the shore or any other object.
'36
SEAMANSHIP.
Elbow in the huuse. A particular twist in the
cables by which a ship is moored ; explained
heretofore at length.
End-for-end. A reversal of the position of any
thing is turning it end-for-end. It is applied
also to a rope that has run quite out of the block
in which it was reeved, or to a cable which has
all run out of the ship.
End on. When a ship advances to a shore,
rock, &c., without an apparent possibility of
preventing her, she is said to go end on for the
shore, &c.
Even keel. When the keel is parallel with
the horizon a ship is said to be upon an even keel.
Fair. A general term for the disposition of
the wind when favorable to a ship's course.
Fair-way. The channel of a narrow bay,
river, or haven, in which snips usually advance
in their passage up and down.
To fall a-board of. To strike or encounter
another ship when one or both are in motion.
To fall a-stern. The motion of a ship with
her stern foremost.
To fall calm. To become in a state of rest by
a total cessation of the wind.
To-, fall down. To sail or be towed down a
river nearer towards its mouth.
Falling off' denotes the motion of the ship's
head from the direction of the wind. It is used
in opposition to coming to.
Fall not off! The command to the steersman
to keep the ship near the wind.
To fetch way. To be shaken or agitated from
one side to another so as to loosen any tiling
which was before fixed.
To fill. To brace the sails so as to receive
the wind in them, and advance the ship in her
course, after they had been either shivering or
braced a-back.
To fish the anchor. To draw up the flukes of
the anchor towards the top of the bow, in order
to stow it, after having been catted.
Flat aft. The situation of the sails when their
surfaces are pressed aft against the mast by the
force of the wind.
To fiat in. To draw in the aftermost lower
corner or clue of a sail towards the middle of
the ship, to give the sail a greater power to turn
the vessel.
To fiat in forward. To draw in the forersheet,
jib-sheet, and fore-staysail sheet, towards the
middle of the ship.
Flaw. A sudden breeze or gust of wind.
Floating. The state of being buoyed up by
the water from the ground.,
Flood tide. The state of a tide when it flows
or rises.
Flowing-sheets. The position of the sheets bf
the principal sails when they are loosened to the
wind, so as to receive it into their cavities more
nearly perpendicular than when close-hauled,
but more obliquely than when the ship sails be-
fore the wind. A ship going two or three points
large has flowing sheets.
Fore. That part of a ship's frame and ma-
chinery that lies .near the stem.
Fore-and-aft. Throughout the whole ship's
length. Lengthways of the ship.
To fore-reach t-pon. To gain ground of some
other ship.
To forge over. To force a ship violently over
a shoal by a great quantity of sail.
Forward. Towards the fore part of a ship.
Foul is used in opposition both to clear and
fair. As opposed to clear, we szyfoul weather,
foul bottom, foul ground, foul anchor, foul house.
As opposed to fair, we say foul wind.
To founder. To sink at sea by filling with
water.
To free. Pumping is said to free the ship
when it discharges more water that leaks into
her.
To freshen. When a gale increases it is said
to freshen.
To freshen the hause. Veering out or heaving
in a little cable to let another part of it endure
the stress at the hause-holes. It is also applied
to the act of renewing the service round the
cable at the hause-holes.
Fresh way. When a ship increases her ve-
locity she is said to get fresh way.
Full. The situation of the sails, when they
are kept distended by the wind.
Full-and-by. The situation of a ship, with re-
gard to the wind, when close-hauled ; and sail-
ing so as to steer neither too nigh the direction
nor to deviate to leeward.
To furl. To wrap or roll a sail close up to the
yard or stay to which it belongs, and winding a
cord round it to keep it fast.
To gain the wind. To arrive on the weather-
side, or to windward of, some ship or fleet in
sight, when both are sailing as near the wind as
passible.
To gather. A sbip is said to gather on ano-
ther as she comes nearer to her.
Gimbleting. The action of turning the an
chor round by the stock, so that the motion of the
stock appears similar to that of the handle of a
gimblet, when employed to turn the wire.
To give chase to. To pursue a ship or fleet.
Goose-wings of a sail. The clues or lower
corners of a ship's mainsail or foresail, when the
middle part is furled or tied up to the yard.
Griping. The inclination of a ship to run to
windward of her proper course.
Grounding. The laying a ship a-shore, in
order to repair her. It is also applied to running
a-ground accidentally.
Ground-tackle. Every thing belonging to a
ship's anchors, and which are necessary for an-
choring or mooring ; such as cables, hawsers,
tow-lines, warps, buoy-ropes, &c.
Growing. Stretching out ; applied to the di-
rection of the cable from the ship towards the
anchors ; as, the cable grows on the starboard
bow.
Gybing. The act of shifting any boom-sail
from one side of the mast to the other.
To hail. To salute or speak to a ship at a
distance.
To hand the fails. The same as to furl them.
Hand-over-hand. The pulling of any rope,
by the men's passing their hands alternately
one before the other or one above another. A
sailor is said to go aloft hand-over-hand, when he
climbs into the tops by a single rope, dexte-
rously throwing one hand over another.
Handsoiiiciy. Gradually; as, lower band-
somelv-J
SEAMANSHIP.
737
Hank-for-hank. When two ships tack and
make a progress to windwaid together.
Hard a-lee. The situation of the helm, when
pushed close to the lee side of the ship.
Hard a-weather. The situation of the helm,
when pushed close to the weather side of the
ship.
To haul. To pull a single rope without the
assistance of blocks.
To haul the wind. To direct the ship's course
nearer to the point
from which the wind t
blows. Thus the ship
A hauls the wind,
when, by the trim of "^^ Ji^
her sails and the ac- ""•-.. J^. '^^
tionof her rudder, she
»ets on either of the courses B and C.
Hause. The situation of the cables before
the ship's stem, when she is moored with two
anchors out from forward. It also denotes any
small distance a-head of a ship, or the space
between her head and the anchors employed to
ride her.
Head-fast. A rope employed to confine the
head of a ship to a wharf or to some other ship.
Headmost. The situation of any ship or ships
which are the most advanced in a fleet.
Head-sails. All the sails which belong to the
fore-mast and bowsprit.
Head-sea. When the waves meet the head of
a sbj.p in her course they are called a head-sea.
It is likewise applied to a large single wave
coming in that direction.
Head-to-wind. The situation of a sbip vrhe^
her head is turned to the point from which the
wind blows, as it must when tacking.
Head-way. The motion of advancing used in
opposition to stern-way.
To heave. To turn about a capstan, or other
machine of the like kind, by means of bars,
handspecs, &c.
To heave a-head. To advance the ship by
heaving-in the cable or other rope fastened to an
anchor at some distance before her.
To heave a-peek. To heave in the cable, till
the anchor is a-peek.
To heave a-stern. To move a ship backwards
by an operation similar to that of heaving a-head.
To heave down. To careen.
To heave in the cable. To draw the cable into
the ship, by turning the capstan.
To heave in stays. To bring a ship's head to
the wind, by a management of the sails and
rudder, in order to get on the other tack.'
To heave out. To unfurl or loose a sail ;
more particularly applied to the staysails ; thus
we say, loose the topsails and heave out the stay-
sails.
To heave short. To draw so much of the
cable into the ship as that she will be almost
perpendicularly over her anchor.
To heave tight or taught. To turn the cap-
stan round, till the rope or cable becomes
straightened.
To heave the capstan. To turn it round.
To heave the lead. To throw the lead over-
ooard, in order to find the depth of water.
To heave the log. To throw the log over-
VOL. XIX.
board, in order to calculate the velocity of tl-e
ship's way.
To heel. To stoop or incline to one side; thus
they say to heel to port, that is, to heel to tlie lar-
board side.
Helm a-lee! A. direction to put the helm
over to the lee side.
Helm a-weather ! An order to put the helm
over to the windward side.
High-and-dry. The situation of a ship when
so far run a-ground as to be seen dry upon the
strand.
To hoist. To draw up any body by the as-
sistance of one or more tackles. Pulling by
means of a smgle block is never termed hoisting,
except only the drawjng of the sails upwards
along the masts or stays.
To hold its own is applied to the relative
situation of two ships when neither advances
upon the other ; each is then said to hold its
own. It is likewise said of a ship which, by
means of contrary winds, cannot make a pro-
gress towards her destined port, but which
however keeps nearly the distance she had al-
ready run.
To hold on. To pull back or retain any quan-
tity of rope acquired by the effort of a capstern,
windlass, tackle, block, &c.
Home implies the proper situation of any ob-
ject ; as to haul home the topsail-sheets is to ex-
tend the bottom of the top-sail to the lower yard,
by means of the sheets. In stowing a hold, a
cask, &c., is said to be home, when it lies close
to some other object.
To hull a ship. To fire cannon-ball into her
bull within the point-blank range.
Hull-to. The situation of a ship when she
lies with all her sails furled ; as in trying.
In stays. See to heave in stays.
Keckled. Any part of a cable, covered over
with old ropes, to prevent its surface from rub-
bing against the ship's bow or fore-foot.
To keep away. To alter the ship's course to
one rather more large, for a little time, to avoid
some ship, danger, Sec. Keep away is likewise
said to the steersman, who is apt to go to wind-
ward of the ship's course.
To keep full. To keep the sails distended by
the wind.
To keep hold of the land. To steer near to or
in sight of the land.
To keep off. To sail off or keep at a distance
from the shore.
To keep the land aboard. The same as to keep
hold of the land.
To keep the luff". To continue close to the
wind.
To keep the wind. The same as to keep the luff.
Knot. A division of the log-line, answering,
in the calculation of the ship's velocity, to one
mile.
To labor. To roll or pitch heavily in a turbu-
lent sea.
Laden in bulk. Freighted with a cargo not
packed, but lying loose, as corn, salt, 8cc.
Laid-up. The situation of a ship when
moored in a harbour for want of employ.
Land-fall. The first land discovered after a
sea-voyage. Thus a good land-rall implies the
3 B
SEAMANSHI P.
rand expected or desired; a bad land-fall the
reverse.
Land-locked. The situation of a ship sur-
rounded with land, so as to exclude the prospect
of the sea, unless over some intervening land.
Larboard. The left side of a ship, looking
towards the head.
Larbourd-tach. The situation of a ship when
sailing will) the wind blowing upon her larboard
side.
Laying the land. A ship which increases her
distance from the coast, so as to make it appear
lower and smaller, is said to lay the land.
Leading-wind. A fair wind fora ship's course.
Leak. A chink or breach in the sides or bot-
tom of a ship, through which the water enters
into the hull.
To leak. To admit water into the hull through
chinks or breaches in the sides or bottom.
Lee. That part of the hemisphere to which
the wind is directed, to distinguish it from the
other part which is called to windward.
Lee-gage. A ship or fleet to leeward of ano-
ther is said to have the lee-gage.
Lee-lurches. The sudden and violent rolls
which a ship often lakes to leeward, in a high
sea ; particularly when a large wave strikes her
«n the weather side.
J^ee of the shore. See under the lee of the
shore.
Lee-quarter. That quarter of a ship which is
on the lee-side.
Lee-tshore. That shore upon which the wind
blows.
Lee-side. That half of a ship, lengthwise,
which lies Between a line drawn through the
middle of her length and the side which is far-
thest from the point of wind.
To leeward. Towards that part of the horizon
to which the wind blows.
Leeward ship. A ship that falls much to lee-
ward of her course, when sailing close-hauled.
Leeward tide. A tide that sets to leeward.
Lee-way. The lateral movement of a ship to
leeward of her course; or the angle which the
line of her way makfs with a line in the direc-
tion of her keel.
To lie along. To be pressed down sideways
by a weight of sail in a fresh wind.
To lie to. To retard a ship in her course, by
arranging the sails in such a manner as to coun-
teract each other with nearly an equal effort, and
render the ship almost immoveable, with respect
to her progressive motion •
or headway. Thus the po-
sition of the yards, in the
figures A and B, causes "•-«^J
the sails to counteract each jj^""
other, the wind blowing
upon the after surface of **
one and the fore-surface of the other.
A long sea. A uniform motion of long waves.
Ijook out. A watchful attention to some im-
portant object or event that is expected to arise.
Thus persons on board of a ship are occasion-
ally stationed to look out for signals, other ships,
for land, &c.
To loose. To unfurl or cast loose any sail.
To lower. To ease down gradually.
Luff! The order to the steersman to put the
helm towards the lee-side of the ship, in order to
sail nearer to the wind.
To make a board. To run a certain distance
upon one tack, in beating to windward.
To make foul water. To muddy the water, by
running into shallow places, so that the ship's
keel disturbs the mud at bottom.
To make sail. To increase the quantity of
sail already set, either by u-nreefing or by setting
others.
To make sternway. To retreat, or move with
the stern foremost.
To make the land. To discover it from afar.
To make water. To leak.
To man (Jic yard, &c. To place men on the
yard, in the tops, down the ladder, &c., to exe-
cute any necessary duties.
Masted. Having all her masts complete.
To middle a rope. To double it into two equal
parts.
Midships. See a-midships.
To miss stays. A ship is said to miss stays
when her head will not fly up into the direction
of the wind, in order to get her on the other
tack.
Mooring. Securing a ship in a particular
station by chains or cables, which are either fas-
tened to an adjacent shore or to anchors at the
bottom.
Mooring service. When a ship is moored,
and rides at one cable's length, the mooring ser-
vice is that which is at the first splrce.
Neaped. The situation of a ship left a-ground
on the height of a spring tide, so that she cannot
be floated till the return of the next spring tide.
Near ! or no near ! An order to the steers-
man not to keep the ship so close to the wind.
Off-and-on. When a ship is beating to wind-
ward, so that by one board she approaches tow-
ards the shore, and by the other stands out to sea,
she is said to stand off-and on shore.
Offing. Out at sea, or at a competent dis-
tance from the shore, and generally out of an-
chor-ground.
Offward. From the shore ; as, when a ship
lies a-ground and leans towards the sea, she is
said to heel offward.
On the beam. Any distance from the ship on
a line with the beams, or at right angles with the
keel. See Bearing.
On the bow. An arch of the horizon, com-
prehending about four points pf the compass on
each side of that point to which the ship's head
is directed. Thus, they say, the ship in sight
bears three points on the starboard bow ; that is,
three points towards the right hand, from tli;it
part of the horizon which is right a head. See
Searing.
On the quarter. An arch of the horizon,
comprehending about four points of the com-
pass on each side of that point to which the
ship's stern is directed. See On the bow and
Bearing.
Open. The situation of a place exposed to
the wind and sea. It is also expressed of any
distant object to which the sight or passage is not
intercepted.
Open house. When the cables of a ship at
SEAMANSHIP.
739
her moorings lead straight to their respective an-
chors, without crossing, sire is said to ride with
an open hause.
Over-board. Out of the ship.
Over-grown sea is expressed of the ocean when
the surges and billows rise extremely high.
To over-haul. To open and extend the
several parts of a tackle, or other assemblage of
ropes, thereby fitting them the better for running
easily.
Over-rake. When a ship at anchor is ex-
posed to a head-sea, the waves of which break
in upon her, tlieVaves are said to over-rake her.
Over-set. A. ship is overset when her keel
turns upwards.
Out-of-trim. The state of a ship when she is
not properly balanced for the purposes of navi-
gation.
Parliament-heel. The situation of a ship when
she is made to stoop a little to one side, so as to
clean the upper part of her bottom on the other
side. See Boot-topping.
Parting. Being driven from the anchors, by
the breaking of the cable.
To pawl the capstan. To fix the pawls, so as
to prevent the capstan from recoiling, during any
pause of heaving.
To pay. To daub or cover the surface of any
body with pitch, tar, &c., in order to preserve it
from the injuries of the weather.
To pay away or pay out. To slacken a cable
or other rope, so as to let it run out for some
purpose particular.
To pay off. To move a ship's head to lee-
ward.
To peek the mizen. To put the mizen yard
perpendicular by the mast.
Pitching. The movement of a ship, by which
she plunges her head and after-part alternately
into the hollow of the sea.
To ply to windward. To endeavour to make
a progress against the direction of the wind. See
Beating to windward.
Point-blank. The direction of a gun when
levelled horizontally.
Pooping. The shock of a high and heavy sea
upon the stern or quarter of a ship, when she
scuds before the wind in a tempest.
Port. A name given on some occasions to
the larboard side of the ship ; as, the ship heels
to port ; top the yards to port ! &c.
Port the helm ! The order to put the helm
over to the larboard side.
Port-last. The gunwale.
Portoise. The same as port-last ; to ride a
portoise is to ride with a yard struck down to the
deck.
Press of sail. All the sail a ship can set or
carry.
Prizing. The application of a lever to move
any weighty body.
Purchase. Any sort of mechanic power em-
ployed in raising or removing heavy bodies.
Quarters. The several stations of a ship's
crew in time of action.
Quartering. When a ship under sail has the
wind blowing on her quarter.
To Raise. To elevate any distinct object at
sea by approaching it; thus to raise the land is
used in opposition to lay the land.
To lluke. To cannonade a ship at the stem
or head, so that the balls scour the whole length
of the docks.
Range of cable. A sufficient length of cable
drawn upon deck before the anchor is cast loose,
to admit of its sinking to the bottom without any
check.
Reach. The distance between any two points
on the banks of a river, wherein the current
flows in an uninterrupted course.
Ready about ! A command of the boatswain
to the crew, and implies that all the hands are to
be attentive and at their stations for tacking.
Rear. The last division of a squadron, or
the last squadron of a fleet. It is applied like-
wise to the last ship of the line, squadron, or di-
vision.
Reef. Part of a sail from one row of eyelet-
holes to another. It is applied likewise to a
chain of rocks lying near the surface of the
water.
Reefing. The operation of reducing a sail by
taking in one or mere of the reefs.
To reeve. To pass the end of a rope through
any hole, as the channel of a block, the cavity of
a thimble, &c.
Rendering. The giving way or yielding to
the efforts of some mechanical power. It is
used in opposition to jambing or sticking.
Riding, when expressed of a ship, is the state
of being retained in a particular station by an
anchor and cable. Thus she is said to ride eas^
or to ride hard, in proportion to the strain upon
her cable. She is likewise said to ride leeward
tide,\L anchored in a place at a time when the tide
sets to leeward, and to ride windward tide if the
tide sets to windward : to ride between wind and
tide, when the wind and tide are in direct oppo-
sition, causing her to ride without any strain
upon her cables.
Rigging out a boom. The running out a pole
at the end of a yard to extend the foot of a sail.
To rig the capstan. To fix the bars in their
respective holes.
Righting. Restoring a ship to an upright po-
sition, either after she has been laid on a careen,
or after she has been pressed down on her side
by the wind.
To right the helm is to bring it into midships,
after it has been pushed either to starboard or
larboard.
Rolling. The motion by which a ship rocks
from side to side like a cradle.
Rough-tree. A name applied to any mast,
yard, or boom, placed in merchant ships, as a rail
or fence above the vessel's side, from the quarter-*
deck to the fore-castle.
Rounding-in. The pu..ing upon any rope
which passes through one or more blocks in a di-
rection nearly horizontal ; as, round-in the wea-
ther-braces.
Round-turn. The situation of the two cables
of a ship when moored, after they have been
s«veral times crossed by the swinging of the ship.
Rounding-up. Similar to rounding-in, except
that it is applied to ropes and blocks which act
in a perpendicular direction.
To row. To move a boat with oars.
Rou'sing. Pulling upon a cable or rope
without the assistance of tackles.
740
SEAMANSHIP.
To run out a warp. To carry the end of a
rope out from a ship in a boat, and fasten it to
some distant object, so that the ship may be re-
moved by pulling on it.
To sag to leeward. To make considerable lee-
way.
Sailing-trim is expressed of a ship when in the
best state for sailing.
Scanting. The variation of the wind, by
which it becomes unfavorable to a ship's making
great progress, as it deviates from being large,
and obliges the vessel to steer close-hauled, or
nearly so.
Scudding. The movement by which a ship is
carried precipitately before the wind in a tem-
pest.
Scuttling. Cutting large noles through the
bottom or sides of a ship, either to sink her or
to unlade her expeditiously when stranded.
Sea. A large wave is so called. Thus they
say, a heavy sea. It implies likewise the agita-
tion of the ocean, as, a great sea. It expresses the
direction of the waves, as, a head sea. A Umg
sea means a uniform and steady motion of long
and extensive waves ; a short sea, on the con-
trary, is when they run irregularly, broken, and
interrupted.
Sea-boat. A vessel that bears the sea firmly,
without straining her masts, &.c.
Sea-clothes. Jackets, trousers, &c.
Sea-r>:ark. A point or object on shore con-
spicuously seen at sea.
Sea-room. A sufficient distance from the
coast or any dangerous rocks, &c. : so that a
ship may perform all nautical operations without
danger of shipwreck.
Sending. The act of pitching precipitately
into the hollow between two waves.
Setting. The act of observing the situation of
any distant object by the compass.
To set sail. To unfurl and expand the sails
to the wind in order to give motion to the ship.
To set up. To increase the tension of the
shrouds, backstays, &c., by tackles, laniards, &c.
To settle the land. To lower in appearance.
It is synonymous with to lay the land.
To shape a course. To direct 01 appoint the
track of a ship in order to prosecute a voyage.
Sheering. The act of deviating from the line
of the course, either to the right or left.
To sheer off". To remove to a greater distance.
To sheet-home. To haul the sheets of a sail
home to the block on the yard-arm.
To shift the helm. To alter its position from
starboard to port, or from port to starboard.
To ship. To take any person, goods, or ar-
ticle, on board. It also implies to fix any thing
in its proper place; as, to ship the oars, to fix
them in their rowlocks.
Shivering. The state of a sail when fluttering
in the xvind.
Slioul. Shallow.
To shoe the anchor. To cover the flukes with
a piece of plank to give it firmer hold in soft
ground.
To skoot a-head. To advance forward.
Shore. A general name for the sea-coast of
any country.
To shorten sail. Used in opposition to wake
tail.
Slack-water. The interval between the fiax
and reflux of the tide, when no motion is per-
ceptible in the water.
Slatch is applied to the period of a transitory
breeze.
To slip the cable. To let it run quite out when
there is not time to weigh the anchor.
Stops. Look to Sea-clothes.
To slue. To turn any cylinclric piece of
timber about its axis without removing it. Thus,
to slue a mast or boom is to turn it in its cap or
boom-iron.
Sounding. Trying the depth of the water with
a plummet, sunk from a ship to the bottom.
To spell the mizen. To let go the sheet and
peek it up.
To spill. To discharge the wind out of the
cavity or belly of a sail, when it is drawn up in
the brails, in order to furl or reef it.
Split. The state of a sail rent by the violence
of the wind.
Spoon-drift. A sort of showery sprinkling of
the sea-water, swept from the surface of the waves
in a tempest, and flying like a vapor before the
wind.
Spray. The sprinkling of a sea, driven occa-
sionally from the top of a wave ; but not con-
tinual as spoon-drift.
To spring a mast, yard, &c. To crack a mast,
yard. &c., by means of straining in blowing
weather, so that it is rendered unsafe for use.
To spring a leak. When a leak first com-
mences, a ship is said to spring a leak.
To spring the luff". A ship is said to spring
her luff when she yields to the effort of the helm,
by sailing nearer to the wind than before.
Squall. A sudden violent blast of wind.
Square. This term is applied to yards that are
very long, as taunt is to high masts.
To square the yards. To brace the yards, so as
to hang at right angles with the keel.
To stand on. To continue advancing.
To stand in. To advance towards the shore
To stand off". To recede from the shore.
Starboard. The right hand side of the ship
when looking forward.
Starboard-tack. A ship is said to be on the
starboard-tack, when sailing with the wind blow-
ing upon her starboard-side.
Starboard the helm ! An order to push the
helm to the starboard-side.
To stay a ship. To arrange the sails and move
the rudder, so as to bring the ship's head to the
direction of the wind, in order to get her on the
other tack.
Steady! The order to the helmsman to keep
the ship in the direction she is going at that in-
stant.
Steering. The art of directing the ship's way
by the movement of the helm.
Steerage-way. Such degree of progressive
motion of a ship as will give effect to the mo-
tions of the helm.
To stem the tide. When a ship is sailing
against the tide at such a rate as enables her to
overcome its power she is said to stem the tide.
Stern fast. A rope confining a ship by her
stern to any other ship or wharf.
,S'/i inmost. The farthc.st a-stern, opposed to
headmost.
SEA :,i A •:: s H I p.
Stcrnway. The motion by which a ship falls
back with her stern foremost.
Stiff". The condition of a ship when she will
carry a great quantity of sail without hazard of
oversetting. It is used in opposition to crank.
To stow. To arrange and dispose aship's cargo.
To stream the buoy. To let it fall from the
ship's side into the water, previously to casting
anchor.
To strike. To lower or let down any thing.
Used emphatically to denote the lowering of
colors, in token of surrender to a victorious
enemy.
To strike sounding. To touch ground, when
endeavouring to find the depth of water.
Surf. The swell of the sea that breaks upon
shore or on any rock.
To surge the capstan. To slacken the rope
heaved round upon it.
Swell. The fluctuating motion of the sea
either during or after a storm.
Sweeping. The act of dragging the bight or
loose part of a rope along the surface of the
ground, in a harbour or road, in order to drag up
something lost.
Swinging. The act of a ship's turning round
her anchor at the change of wind or tide.
To tack. To turn a ship about""^^
from one tack to another, by '"--..
bring her head to the wind. Thus \
the ship A passes from the lar-
board to the starboard tack a.
Taking in. The act of furling the sails.
Used in opposition to setting.
Taken a- back. See A-back.
Taught. Improperly, though very generally,
used for tight. .
Taunt. High or tall : particularly applied to
masts of extraordinary length.
Tending. The turning or swinging of a ship
round her anchor in a tide-way at the beginning
of ebb and flood.
Thwart. See A-thwart.
Thwart ships. See A-thwart ships.
Thus! An order to the helmsman to keep
the ship in her present situation, when sailing
with a scant wind.
Tide-way. That part of a rivei in which the
tide ebbs and flows strongly.
Tier. One range of any thing placed hori-
zontally.
Topping. Pulling one of the ends of a yard
higher than the other.
To tow. To draw a ship in the water by a rope
fixed to a boat or other ship which is rowing or
sailing on.
Trim. The state or disposition by which a ship
is best calculated for the purposes of navigation.
To trim the hold. Toarrange the cargo regularly.
To trim the sails. To dispose the sails in the
best arrangement for the course which a ship is
steering.
To trip the anchor. To loosen the anchor
from the ground, either by design or accident.
Trough (>/' the i«i. The hollow between two
waves.
Trying. The situation in which a ship, in
tempest, lies to in the trough or hollow of the
sea, particularly when the wind blows contrary
to her course.
Turning to windward. That operation in sail-
ing whereby a ship endeavours to advance against
the wind.
Van. The foremost division of a fleet in one
line. It is likewise applied to the foremost ship
of a division.
To veer. To change a *
ship's course, from one f
tack to the other, by turn-
ing her stern to windward; A
thus the ship A veers in ^^
passing from the course A '' A
ta the course C. The ... ™
wind is said to veer when '^^ ...-•'
it changes more aft. C
To veer and haul. To pull a rope tight, by
alternately drawing it in and slackening it.
To unballast. To discharge the ballast out of a
ship.
To unbend. To take the sails off from their
yards and stays : to cast loose the anchor from
the cable : to untie two ropes.
To unbit. To remove the turns of a cable
from off the bits.
Under foot is expressed of an anchor that is
directly under the ship.
Under sail. When a ship is loosened from
moorings, and is under the government of her
sails and rudder.
Under way. The same as under sail.
Under the lee of the shore is to be close under
the shore which lies to windward of the ship.
To unmoor. To reduce a ship to the state of
riding at single anchor, after she has been
moored-
To unreevc. To dra-vr a rope from out of a
hlock, thimble, &c.
To unrig. To deprive the ship of her rigging.
Wake. The print or track impressed upon
the surface of water by a ship in her course. A
ship is said to be in the wake of another when
she follows her in the same track, or on a line sup-
posed to be formed on a continuation of her
keel. Thus the ship
A is sailing in the ^^^ ^^^^ '
wake of B, and the "" "^^
ship C is crossing
in the wake of A and B.
To ware. See to veer.
Warp. A small rope employed occasionally
to remove a ship from.one place to another.
To Warp. To remove a ship by means of a
warp.
Water-borne. The state of a ship, when there
is barely a sufficient depth of water to float het
off from the ground.
Water-logged. The stale of a ship, become
heavy and inactive on the sea, from the great
quantity of water leaked into her.
Water-tight. The state of a ship when not
leaky,
Weather. Synonymous with windward.
Weather-beaten. Shattered by a storm.
Weather-bit. A turn of the cable about the
end of the windlass.
Heather-gage. When a ship or fleet is tt
SEA
742
SEA
windward of another, she is said to have the
weather-gage of her.
Weather-quarter. That quarter of the ship
which is on the windward side.
Weather-side. The side upon which the wind
Uows.
To weigh anchor. To heave up an anchor
lorn the bottom.
To wind a ship. To change her position,
Singing her head where her stern was.
Wind-road. When a ship is at anchor, and
the wind, being against the tide, is so strong as to
overcome its power and keep the ship to lee-
ward of her anchor, she is said to be windroad.
Wind's eye. The point from which the wind
blows.
To windward. Towards that part of the ho-
rizon from which the wind blows.
Windward-tide. A tide that sets to windward.
To work a ship. To direct the movements of
a ship, by adapting the sails and managing the
rudder accord ing to the course the ship has to make.
To work to windward. To make a progress
against the direction of the wind.
Yawing. The motion of a ship, when she
deviates from her course to the right or left.
SEA MARKS. The erection of beacons, ligbt-
houses, and sea-marks, is a branch of the royal
prerogative. By 8 Eliz. 13, the corporation of
the Trinity-house are empowered to set up any
beacons or sea-marks wherever they shall think
them necessary ; and if the owner of the land or
any other person shall destroy them, or take
down any steeple, tree, or other ' known sea-
mark, he shall forfeit £100 sterling, or, in case
of inability to pay it, he shall be ipso facto out-
lawed.
SEA MEW. See LARUS.
SEA NYMPHS. See NEREIDS, NYMPHS, and
OCEANIDES Or OCEANITIDES.
SEA ONION, or squill. See SCILLA.
SEAPOYS, or SEPOYS, natives of Hindostan,
serving in a military capacity under the Euro-
pean powers, and disciplined after the European
manner. The seapoys of the English East India
company compose perhaps the most numerous,
regular, and best disciplined body of black
troops in the world. They are raised from
among the natives of the country, and consist of
Moors or Mahometans, Raja-poots, Hindoos,
Farias, besides many intermediate casts peculiar
to themselves; the whole modelled in all cor-
responding particulars, and disciplined in every
respect as the army of Great Britain. The sea-
poys are formed into complete, uniform, and re-
gular batallions, like our marching regiments,
being intended to answer fully every purpose in
India of the like troops in Europe. Their arms
are a firelock and bayonet ; their accoutrements,
or cross belts, black leather, with pouches of the
same. A battalion unite in their exterior traits
both the Indian and European appearance. They
are brought to the utmost exactness of discipline ;
go through their evolutions and manoeuvres with
a regularity and precision equal to, and rarely
surpassed by European troops. In action they
are brave and steady, and have stood where
Europeans have given way. Their discipline
[•uts them on a footing with European troops,
«ith whom they are always ready to act in con-
«Srt. Their utility and services are evident ;
;hey secure to the company the internal good
order and preservation of their territorial dis-
tricts, which, though possible to be enforced with
a strong hand by Europeans, requires numbers,
and can only be conducted with that ease and
address peculiar to the native forces of the
country. Dr. Robertson has remarked, as a
proof that the ingenuity of man has recourse in
similar situations to the same expedients, that
the European powers have, in forming the estab-
lishment of these native troops, adopted the
same maxims, and, probably without knowing it,
have modelled their battalions of seapoys upon
the same principles as Alexander the Great did
his phalanx of Persians.
SEAR, adj. & v. a. Saxon feanian, to dry.
Dry ; not any longer green : to dry ; burn ; cau-
terize.
Some shall depart from the faith, speaking lies,
having their conscience seared with a hot iron.
1 Timothy iv. 2.
The scorching flame sore singed all his face,
And through his armour all his body seared.
Faerie Queene.
I have lived long enough • my May of life
Is fallen into the sear, the yellow leaf.
Shakspeare. Macbeth.
Ye myrtles brown, with ivy never sear. Miliott.
Cherish veins of good humour, and star up those
of ill. Temple,
Some may be cherished in dry places, as in sear
wood. Rail.
I'm seared with burning steel, till the scorched
marrow
Fries in the bones. Hmce's Royal Convert.
He lives, nor yet is past his manhood's prime.
Though leared by toil, and something touched by
time. Byron.
SEARCE, v. a. Fr. sasser. To sift finely.
Put the finely tearced powder of alabaster into
a flat-bottomed and well-heated brass vessel.
Boyle.
For the keeping of meal, bolt and uarce it from
the bran. Mortimer's Hutbandry.
SEARCH, v. a., v. n.t &»..<.{ Fr. chercher;
SEARCH'ER, 7*. s. \ Ital. circu:d> ;
of Lat. circo. To examine ; try ; explore ; en-
quire ; probe surgically ; taking out (intens.) : as
a verb neuter, to look ; make enquiry ; seek : the
noun substantives both correspond.
They returned from searching of the land.
Numbers xiii. 25.
Who went before you, to search you out a place to
pitch your tents in ? Deuteronomy i. 33.
For the divisions of Reuben there were great
Marchings of heart. Judges v. 16.
Help to search my house this one time : if I find
not what I seek, let me forever be your table sport.
Shahtpeare.
With this good sword,
That ran through Caesar'* U;\\el>. ft arch this bosom.
Id
SEA
743
SEA
Satisfy me once more ; once more search with me.
Id.
His ;easons are as two grains of wheat hid in two
bushels of chaff: you shall seek all day ere you find
them, and when you have them they are not worth
the search. fd.
The searchers found a marvellous difference be-
tween the Anakins and themselves. Raleigh.
Through the void immense
To search with wandering quest a place foretold.
Milton.
To ask or search I blame thee not. Id.
The orb he roamed
With narrow search, and within inspection deep.
Id.
The searchen, who are ancient matrons sworn to
their office, repair to the place where the dead corps
lies, and by view of the same, and by other inquiries,
examine by what disease the corps died.
Graunt's Bills of Mortality.
Who great in search of God and nature grow,
They best the wise Creator's praise declare.
Dry it en.
Now mourn thy fatal search :
It is not safe to have too quick a sense. fd.
It suffices that they have once with care sifted
the matter, and searched into all the particulars that
could give any light to the question. Locke.
\'>y the philosophical use of words, I mean such
an use as conveys the precise notions of things, which
the mind may be satisfied with in its search after
knowledge. Id.
The parents, after a long search for the boy, gave
him for drowned in a canal. Addison.
Religion has given us a more just idea of the di-
vine nature : he whom we appeal to is truth itself,
the great searcher of hearts, who will not let fraud go
unpunished, or hold him guiltless that taketh his
name in vain. Id.
In vain we lift up our presumptuous eyes
To what our Maker to their ken denies ;
The searcher follows fast, the object flies. Prior.
The signs of wounds penetrating are discovered
by the proportion of the searching candle, or probe
which enters into the cavity. Wiseman'* Suryery.
With piercing eye some search where nature plays,
And trace the wanton through her darksome maze.
Ticket.
This common practice carries the heart aside from
all that is honest in our search afler truth. Watts.
They may sometimes be successful to search out
truth. Id.
Avoid the man who practises any thing unbecom-
ing a free and open searclier after truth. Id.
SEARCHER, an officer in the customs, whose
business it is to search and examine ships out-
ward-bound, if they have any prohibited goods
on board, Sec.: 12 Car. II.. There are also
searchers of leather, &c.
SEARCHER, in ordnance, is an iron-socket with
branches, from four to eight in number, a little
bent outwards, with small points at their ends ;
to this socket is fixed a wooden handle, from
eight to twelve feet long, of about an inch and a
quarter diameter. After the gun has been fired
this searcher is introduced into it, and turned
round, in order to discover the cavities within.
The distances of these cavities, if any be found,
are then marked on the outside with chalk, when
another searcher that has only one point, about
which a mixture of wax and tallow is put, is in-
troduced to take the impression of the holes ; and
if there be any hole a quarter of an inch deep, or
of any considerable length, the gun is rejected «
unserviceable.
SEARCH WARRANT, in law, a kind of genera!
warrant issued by justices of peace, or magis-
trates of towns, for searching all suspected places
for stolen goods. In some English law-books
there are precedents requiring the constable to
search all such suspected places as he and the
party complaining shall think convenient ; but
such practice is condemned by lord Hale, Mr.
Hawkins, and the best authorities both amongst
the English and Scottish lawyers. However, in
case of a complaint, and oath made of goods
stolen, and that the party suspects that those
goods are in a particular house, and shows the
cause of such suspicion, the justice may grant a
warrant to search not only that house but other
suspected places ; and to attach the goods, and
the party in whose custody they are found, and
bring them before him or some other justice, to
give an account how he came by them, and to
abide such order as to law shall appertain ; which
warrant should be directed to the constable or
other public officer, who may enter a suspected
house and make search.
SEAR'CLOTH, n. s. Sax. ranclaS, from rap
pain, and claS a plaster ; so that cerecloth, as
written, from cera wax, seems to be wrong. A
plaster ; a large plaster.
Bees' wax is the ground of all searcloth salves.
Mortimer.
The SEA SERPENT is a fabulous animal, said
to inhabit the northern seas about Greenland and
the coasts of Norway. The following marvellous
account of this monster is given by Guthrie.
' In 1756 one of them was shot by a master of
a ship ; its head resembled that of a horse ; the
mouth was large and black, as were the eyes, a
white mane hanging from its neck; it floated on
the surface of the water, and held its head at
least two feet out of the sea ; between the head
and neck were seven or eight folds, which were
very thick ; and the length of this snake was
more than 1 00 yards ; some say fathoms. They
have a remarkable aversion to the smell of cas-
tor ; for which reason, ship, boat, and bark mas-
ters provide themselves with quantities of that
drug, to prevent being overset, the serpent's
olfactory nerves being remarkably exquisite.
The particularities related of this animal would
be incredible, were they not attested upon oath.
Egede, a very reputable author, says that on the
6th day of July, 1734, a large and frightful sea-
monster raised itself so hii'h out of the water
that ils head reached above the main-top-mast of
the ship ; that it had a long sharp snout, broad
paws, and spouted water like a whale ; that the
body seemed to be covered with scales ; the
skin was uneven and wrinkled, and the lower
part was formed like a snake. The body of th«
monster is said to be as thick as a hogshead
his skin is variegated like a tortoise shell ; arx}
his excrement, which floats upon the surface o1
the water, is corrosive.'
SEA SHARK. See SwAi.rs.
SEA SICKNESS, a disorder incident to most
persons on their first going to sea, occasioned by
the agitation of the vessel. In voyages, sea-sick-
ness, though it continues in general only for the
SEA
744
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first day or two, is extremely harrassing to some
people at intervals, especially on any increased
motion of the vessel. Sometimes, by long conti-
nuance, it causes fever, headach, quick pulse,
thirst, white tongue, and a total deprivation of
the retention of the stomach ; evils which are al-
ways difficult to remove, and frequently termi-
nate only with the voyage. This indisposition
is considerably alleviated by a small tea-spoon-
ful of ether, taken now and then in a glass of
water, and applying some of it to the temples and
nostrils. The ancient writers recommend acid
fruits, bread and vegetables soaked in vinegar,
after the stomach has been cleansed by vomiting;
but not to attempt to suppress the vomiting un-
til that end was obtained. An old remedy for
sea-sickness, and a very common one among
sailors, is a draught or two of sea-water ; which,
though a disgusting medicine at such a time, yet
where the first passages are foul and loaded, ge-
nerally produces the desired effect when the per-
turbation it occasions ceases.
SEA'SON, n. s., v. a., &"*. Fr. saison ; Span.
SEA'soNA&LEytw//. [v.n. | sazon ; barb. Lat.
SEA'SONABLENESS, n. s. Isatio. One of the
SEASONABLY, adv. [four quarters of the
SEA'SONER, n.s. \ year; any particular
SEA'SONING. j or fit time; any
short time ; relish ; that which gives a relish : to
give a relish to; qualify; imbue; taint; fit or
mature for office or use : to become fit : the de-
rivatives corresponding.
Every oblation of thy meat-offering- shall thou
season with salt. Leviticus ii. 13.
Mercy is seasonable in the time of affliction, as
clouds of rain in the time of drought. Ecclus. v. 2.
The fairest flowers o' the season
Are our carnations and streaked gillyflowers.
Sliuktpeare.
We'll slip you for a vason, but our jealousy
Does yet depend. Id. Cymbeline.
You lack the season of all natures, sleep.
Id. Macbeth.
Mercy is above this sceptered sway ;
It is an attribute to God himself ;
And earthly power does then shew likest God's,
When mercy teutons justice.
Id. Merchant of Venice.
The crow doth sing as sweetly as the lark,
When neither is attended; and, I think,
The nightingale, if she should sing by day,
When every goose is cackling, would be thought
No better a musician than the wren :
flow many things by season seasoned are
To their right praise and true perfection !
Sliakit])eare.
We charge you, that you have contrived to take
From Home all seasoned office, and to wind
Yourself unto a power tyrannical". Id. Coriolanns.
Breads we have of several grains, with divers
liinls of leavenings and seatimings ; so that some do
extremely move appetites, and some do nourish so
«s divers do live af them alone. Bacon.
The archers of his guard shot two arrows, every
jhan together, against an inch board of well seasoned
limber. Hay ward.
Some abound with words without any seasoning or
taste of matter. fan /orison.
Secure their religion, season their younger years
with prudent and pious principles. Taylor.
The futon prime for sweetest scents and airs.
Milton.
SEASONS. The year is remarkably diversified
by the seasons, which depend upon the oblique
position of the sun's path through the heavens,
whereby this luminary rises to different heights
above the horizon, making the days sometimes
longer, and sometimes shorter, than the nights.
When the sun rises highest at noon, its rays fall
most nearly in the direction of a perpendicular,
and consequently a greater number is received
upon any given spot; their action, also, at the
same time, continues the longest. These cir-
cumstances make the difference between summer
and winter. It is true, that the sun is some-
times nearer to us by one thirtieth of his whole
distance than at others. This is evident from
his diameter being found, by actual measure-
ment, to be one thirtieth larger at one time of
the year than at the opposite. But the greatest
proximity in the northern hemisphere takes
place in winter ; the sun is farthest from us in
July, and nearest in January; and the difference
between summer and winter temperature would
undoubtedly be greater than it now is, if the
sun were to remain at the same invariable dis-
tance through the year. In southern latitudes,
mid-winter occurs in July, when the sun is at
his greatest distance. This may be one cause of
the excessive cold which prevails in high south-
ern latitudes, as at Cape Horn and about the
south po!e, beyond that which belongs to simi-
lar latitudes on this side of the equator. It is
found, that the sun does not rise so high in sum-
mer, or descend so low in winter, at the present
time, as it did formerly : in other words, the ob-
liquity of the ecliptic, which is half the difference
between the sun's greatest and least meridian al-
titudes, is growing less and less continually, and
the seasons are thus tending, though slowly,
towards one unvaried spring. This diminution
of the sun's utmost range north and south, since
the time of the earliest observations, or during a
period of 3000 years, amounts to nearly a
fiftieth part of the whole quantity. This may be
one of the causes of a melioration of winter,
which seems to be so considerable in those places
where there are the means of making a compa-
rison of the degree of cold that has prevailed at
different times. The year is naturally divided
into four periods by the equinoxes and solstices,
or those epochs when the day is equal to the
night, namely, 21st of March and 23rd of Sep-
tember, and those when there is the greatest dif-
ference, namely, 21st of June and 22nd of De-
cember. Our winter, spring, summer, and
autumn (q. v.) have reference to these epochs,
although their commencement and termination
do not correspond exactly to the astronomical
times above indicated. We are apt to imagine,
that the four seasons are equal to each other,
and that spring and summer are together just
half the year. This is not the case, however,
more especially with respect to the natural pe-
riods, so denominated. If, for example, we
compare the time from the 21st of March to the
23rd of September, with the rest of the year.
we shall find a difference of about one week,
the former being the longer. This benefit of a
long summer is confined, at present, to the
northern hemisphere ; but this natural distinc-
SEA
745
SEA
tion is not a permanent one. This longer con-
tinuance of the sun in the northern hemisphere
arises from the particular position of the sun's
oval orbit, or path through the heavens. We
have already stated that the sun is nearest to us
in the winter season : in other words, the earth
.1 i .• •
,s nearest to the sun, and on 1m account its mo-
tion is more rapid, so that the part of the orbit
from the autumnal equinox (September 23rd) to
the vernal (March 21st), is completed a week
sooner than the other half, in which the motion
is slower. But the point of the sun's nearest
approach, or perihelion, on the position of which
the above-mentioned physical advantages de-
pend, is in motion, whereby we are gradually
losing the benefit of a prolonged summer, and
in about 5000 years shall cease to enjoy any
such privilege. In about 10,000 years the con-
dition will be reversed, and the southern hemis-
phere wj,l be the favored portion of the globe.
It may be worth mentioning that at the date
fixed by chronologists for the first residence of
man upon the earth, the sun's influence was
equally distributed to the two hemispheres.
SEASONING, a name given to the first illness to
which persons, habituated to colder climates, are
subject on their arrival in the West Indies, par-
ticularly if at first they expose themselves in a
shower of rain, or too long in the sun, or in the
night air ; or when the body is much heated, if
they drink large draughts of cold liquors, or bathe
in water, or use much exercise, or commit ex-
cess in drinking wine or spirits ; or by heating
the body and inflaming the blood; or by subject-
ing themselves to any cause that may suddenly
check perspiration, which at first is generally
excessive. The disorders are various that con-
stitute this seasoning of new comers, as they are
called ; depending on age, constitution, and
habit of body. But all seasoning diseases are
said to be of the inflammatory kind; and yield
lo antiphlogistic treatment proportioned to their
O earth, how like to heaven ! if not preferred
Most justly, seat worthier of gods, as built
w>th second thoughts, reforming what was old.
r Milton.
. , °.1 "aDy'on>
?or ff2*.AkS?' suc,h magnificen,ce
Equalled in all their glories, to ins hnne
B^lus or Ser [& ^ ^ Q. sgut
Their kins-s Id
From their foundations loosening to and fro,
They plucked the seated hills. Id.
The iady of the leaf ordained a feast,
And made the lady of the flower her guest;
When, lo, a bower ascended on the plain,
With sudden seats ordained, and large for either
train. Dryden.
^n Alba he shall fix his royal seat ;
And, born a king, a race of kings beget. fd.
„ l<ne Promised seat °{ emPire sha11 again
Co,y,?r the mountain and command the plain. Prior.
° ^ "**
bKAT, n. s. & v. a. Sax. reot; Swed. sate ;
Teut. sett; Lat. secies. A chair; bench; any
thing on which one may sit: hence a throne, or
royal or episcopal seat ; hence also residence ; si-
tuation ; site : to seat is, to place on seats, or in
authority or office ; fix.
The fittest and the easiest to be drawn
To our society and to aid the war,
The rather for the,r «a», being next borderers
Bv /n m BenJomon, Catthne.
My no means build too near a great neighbour.
which were in truth to be as unfortunately mated on
the earth as Mercury is in the heavens : fqr the most
part ever in combustion or obscurity, uuder brighter
beams than his own. Wotton.
Whatsoever be the manner of tbe world's end,
Host certain it is an end it shall have, and as cer-
Aiin that then we shall appear before the judgment
teat of Christ, that every man may receive according
to that which he hath done in his body, whether it be
good or evil. Habevill 0,1 Providence.
He that builds a fair house upon an ill scat com-
mittetb himself to prison. Baa-n
It followeth now that we find out the teat of Eden -
for in it was Paradise by God planted. Raleiah.
The sons of light
Hastcd, resorting to the summons high,
A u<i took their seats. Milton.
A irit of or oppositioil makes mankind un-
easy to see others of the same species mated above
them in a sort of perfection. Pope.
Themselves perhaps, when weary they retreat
To' enjoy cool nature in a country seat,
To' exchange the centre of a thousand trades,
^or clumps, and lawns, and temples, and cascades,
May now and then their velvet cushions take,
And seem to Pray for &ood examPle sake- Cowper.
SEATER, one of the chief deities of the an-
«^ient Saxons, reckoned by mythologists analogous
to the Saturn of the Greeks and Romans. Sa-
turday was named from this idol.
SEA'WARD, adv. Sea and Sax. peajVo.
Towards the sea.
The rock rushed seaward with impetuous roar,
Ingulfed, and to the' abyss the boaster bore. Pope;
SEA- WATER, ANALYSIS OF. In June, 1776,
Sir Torbern Bergman analysed a pint of sea-
water, taken from the depth of sixty fathoms in the
latitude of the Canary Islands, and found the so
Hd contents as follows :— Of common salt 253
u grs-, sallied magnesia 69 n grs., and gypsum
8 ft ars. ; in all 330 fT grs., or~5 drams, 1 scru-
ple,"and 10 grs.,. and }, parts. The principal
salts contained in sea-water are, 1st, Common
marine or culinary salt, compounded of fossil
alkali or soda and marine acid ; 2dly, A salt
formed by the union of the same acid with mag
nesian earth ; and, lastly, A small quantity of
syenite. The quantity of saline matter contained
jn •< of sea_water in the British seas iSj ac_
S Neum about one ounce in each
• & j o
P1"1' See OcEA» and S£A' ~ n
SEA-WATER, MEDIC AL USES OF. Dr. Uussel
published a dissertation on the medical uses of
sea-water in diseases of the glands, &c., wherein
the author premises some observations upon the
nature of sea-water, considered as impregnated
with particles of all the bodies it passes over,such
as submarine plants, fish, salts, minerals, &C.,
and saturated with therr several effluvia, to enrich
it and keep it from putrefaction ; whence this fluid
j sup 'd to cont^ct a soapiness ; and the whole
• i • j i i i_ i i
collectlon> beln? P^'aded by the sulphureous
steams \>™*m% through it, constitutes what we
ca'l sea-water; the confessed distinguishing cna-
racteristics of which are saltness, bitterness, nitro-
sity, and uiictiioiity : whence the author con-
SKA
740
SKA
eludes that it may be justly expected to contribute
signally to the improvement of physic. The cases
in which our author informs us we are to expect
advantage from the sea- water are, 1. In all recent
obstructions of the glands of the intestines and me-
sentery. 2. All recent obstructions of the pulmo-
nary glands, and those of the viscera, which fre-
quently produce consumptions. 3. All recent
glandular swellings of the neck, or other parts.
4. Recent tumors of the joints, if they were not
suppurated or become schirrous or cancerous,
and have not carious bones for their cause. 5.
Recent deductions upon the glands of the eye-lids.
6. All defoedations of the skin, from an erysipelas
to a lepra. 7. Diseases of the glands of the nose,
with their usual companion a thickness of the lip.
8. Obstructions of the kidneys, where there is no
inflammation, and the stone not large. 9. In re-
cent obstructions of the liver, this method will
be proper, where it prevents constipations of the
belly, and assists other medicines directed in ic-
terical cases. The same remedy is said to be of
signal service in the bronchocele ; and is likewise
recommended for the prevention of those bilious
colics that so frequently afflict our mariners.
The method of making sea-water fresh was
long a desideratum in navigation. Many methods
have been proposed for this purpose. Mr. Ap-
pteby published an account of a process which
he had instituted in 1734. He distilled sea-wa-
ter with a quantity of lapis infernalis and calcined
bones ; but this process was soon laid aside, as it
•was not only difficult in itself, but rendered the
water unpalatable. Dr. Butler proposed soap-leys
in place of Mr. Appleby's ingredients ; but the
water was still liable to the same objection. Dr.
Stephen Hales recommended powdered chalk ;
but his method was expensive, and did not im-
prove the taste of the water. Dr. Lind of Ports-
mouth distilled sea-water without any ingredi-
ents ; but as the experiment he made was
performed in a vessel containing only two quarts,
with a glass receiver, in his study, nothing con-
clusive could be drawn from it for the use of
sailors. At length Dr. Irving brought the process
to a very high degree of simplicity and perfection,
by which the water is obtained pure, without
much expense of fuel, or a complicated appara-
tus. For this discovery he received a reward of
£5000. The advantages of this method remain to
be stated, which may be reduced to the following :
I.The abolishing all stills, still-heads, wonn-
pipes, and their tubes, which occupy so much
space as to render them totally incompatible with
the necessary business of the ship ; and using in
the room of these the ship's kettle or boiler, to the
top whereof may occasionally be applied a simple
tube, which can be easily made on board a vessel
at sea, of iron plate, stove funnel, or tin sheet ;
so that no situation can prevent a ship from being
completely supplied with the means of distilling
sea-water. 2. In consequence of the principles
of distillation being fully ascertained, the contriv-
ance of the simplest means of obtaining the
greatest quantity of distilled water, by making
the tube sufficiently large to receive the whole
column of vapor, and placing it nearly in a ho-
rizontal direction, to prevent any compression of
the fluid, which takes place so much with the
comrron worm. 3. The adopting of the sim|.iey.
and most efficacious means of condensing vapor;
?or nothing more is required in the distillation but
keeping the surface of the tube always wet, which
is done by having some sea-water at hand, and a
person to dip a mop or swab into this water, and
pass it along the upper surface of the tube. By
this operation the vapor contained in the tube
will be entirely condensed with the greatest rapi-
dity imaginable ; for by the application of the
wet mop thin sheets of water are uniformly spread,
and mechanically pressed upon the surface of the
hot tube ; which, being convened into vapor,
make way for a succession of fresh sheets ; and
thus, both by the evaporation and close contact
of the cold water constantly repeated, the heat is
carried off more effectually than by any other
method yet known. 4. The carrying on the
distillation without any addition, a correct che-
mical analysis of sea-water having evinced the
futility of mixing ingredients with it, either to
prevent an acid from rising with the vapor, or to
destroy any bituminous oil supposed to exist in
sea-water, and to contaminate the distilled
water, giving it that fiery unpalatable taste in-
separable from the former processes. 5. The
ascertaining the proper quantity of sea-water that
ought to be distilled, whereby the fresh water is
prevented from contracting a noxious impregna-
tion of metallic salts, and the vessel from being
corroded and otherwise damaged by the salts
caking on the bottom of it. 6. The producing a
quantity of sweet and wholesome water, per-
fectly agreeable to the taste, and sufficient for all
the purposes of shipping. 7. The taking ad-
vantage of the dressing the ship's provisions, so
as to distil a very considerable quantity of water
from the vapor, which would otherwise be lost,
without any addition of fuel. To sum up the
merits of this method in a few words : — The use
of a simple tube, of the most easy construction,
applicable to any ship's kettle. The rejecting
all ingredients; ascertaining the proportion of
water to be distilled, with every advantage of
quality, saving of fuel, and preservation of boil-
ers. The obtaining fresh water, wholesome,
palatable, and in sufficient quantities. Taking
advantage of the vapor which ascends in the
kettle while the ship's provisions are boiling.
All these advantages are obtained by the above
mentioned simple addition to the common ship's
kettles. But Dr. Irving proposes to introduce
two further improvements. The first is a hearth,
or stove, so constructed that the fire which is
kept up the whole day for the common business
of the ship may serve likewise for distillation ;
whereby a sufficient quantity of water for all the
economical purposes of the ship may be ob-
tained, with a very inconsiderable addition to the
expense of fuel. The other improvement is that
of substituting, even in the largest ships, cast-
iron boilers, of a new construction, in the place
of coppers. As soon as sea-water is put into the
boiler, the tube is to be fitted either into the top
or lid, round which, if necessary, a bit of \vet
linen may be applied, to make it fit close to the
mouth of the vessel; there will be no occasion
for luting, as the tube acts like a funnel in car-
rying off the vapor. When the water begins to
SEE
747
SEE
boil, the vapor should be allowed to pass freely
for a minute, which will effectually clean the
tube and upper part of the boiler. The tube is
afterwards to be kept constantly wet, by passing
a mop or swab, dipped in sea-water, along its
upper surface. The waste water running from
the mop may be carried off by means of a board
made like a spout, and placed beneath the tube.
The distillation may be continued till three-
fourths of the water be drawn off, and no further.
This may be ascertained either by a gauge-rod
put into the boiler, or by measuring the water
distilled. The brine is then to be let out. Water
may be distilled in the same manner while the
provisions are boiling. When the tube is made
on shore, the best substance for the purpose is
thin copper well tinned, this being more durable
in long voyages than tin-plates. Instead of mop-
ping, the tube, if required, may have a case made
also of copper, so much larger in diameter as to
admit a thin sheet of water to circulate between
them by means of a spiral copper thread, with a
pipe of an inch diameter at each end of the case ;
the lower for receiving cold water, and the upper
for carrying it off when heated.
SEA-WATER, METHOD OF PRESERVING. As it
is sometimes necessary to preserve sea-water in
casks, for bathing and other purposes, it is of
importance to know how to keep it from putre-
faction. Many experiments were made to de-
termine this point by Mr. Henry, and are re-
corded in the first volume of the Memoirs of the
Literary and Philosophical Society of Manches-
ter. His first experiment we shall here present
to our readers : — ' To one quart of sea-water
were added two scruples of fresh quicklime ; to
another half an ounce of common culinary salt ;
and a third was kept as a standard without any
addition. The mouths of the bottles being
loosely covered with paper, they were exposed
to the action of the sun in some of the hottest
weather in summer. In about a week the stand-
ard became very offensive ; and the water, with
the additional quantity of salt, did not continue
sweet many hours longer ; whereas that with
lime continued many months without ever ex-
hibiting the least marks of putridity.' When he
added a dram more of quicklime, the whole of
the magnesia contained in the water was se-
parated ; and, when a further addition was made,
a lime-water was immediately formed. He there-
fore concluded that two scruples of quick-lime
are sufficient to preserve a quart of sea-water.
The proportions, however, may vary a little,
according to the strength of the quick-lime em-
ployed.
SEA-WEED, or SEA -WARE, alga marina, is com-
monly used as a manure on the sea-coast, where
it can be produced in abundance. The best
sort grows on rocks and is that from which kelp
is made. The next to this is called the peasy
sea-weed; and the worst is that with a long
stalk. In the neighbourhood of Berwick, the
farmers mix it with stable dung and earth, and
thus obtain a great quantity of excellent manure.
Sea-weed is found also to be a very fit manure
for gardens, as it not only enriches them, but
destroys the vermin by which they are usually
infested. See A.LCS..
SEBA (Albert), a learned Dutch naturalist,
born at Etzeel, in East Frieseland. He wrote
an extensive work on natural history, published
at Amsterdam in 1734, in 3 vols. folio. The ex-
planations are in Latin and French.
SEBACIC ACID, the acid procured from fat.
See CHEMISTRY, Index. Dr. Thomson gives the
following account of it : — ' Chemists had long
suspected that an acid could be obtained from tal-
low, on account of the acrid nature of the fumes
which it emits at a high temperature ; but it was
M. Grutzmacher who first demonstrated it in a
dissertation De Ossium Medulla, pubfished in
1748. M. Rhodes mentioned it in 1753. Seg-
ner published a dissertation on it in 1754; and
Crell examined its properties very fully in two
dissertations in the Philosophical Transactions
for 1780 and 1782. It was called at first acid
of fat. It may be procured by the following
process : — Mix quick -lime with melted tallow,
and keep the mixture for some time in a melting
heat. Then let it cool, and wash it in a great
quantity of water. Evaporate this water, and
there will be obtained a brown salt, which is
impure sebate of lime. Heat this pretty strongly
in a crucible, dissolve it in water, filter it, separ-
ate the excess by carbonic acid; then evaporate.
Pure crystallised sebate of lime is obtained.
Mix this with sulphuric acid, and distil with a
moderate heat. Sebacic acid comes over. It is
a liquid of an acid, sharp, bitterish taste. When
concentrated, it exhales a white smoke, which
has a strong, disagreeable, peculiar odor, and
irritates the eyes and throat. It reddens tincture
of turnsole. Heat causes it to assume a yellow-
ish color. When distilled, it yields a brownish
liquid, and, when distilled to dryness, it leaves a
little charcoal. When passed through a red-hot
tube, it is decomposed and converted into water,
carbonic acid, carbonated hydrogen gas, and
charcoal. It combines with alkalies, earths, and
metallic oxides, and forms salts, called sebates.
It oxidates silver, mercury, copper, iron, lead,
tin, zinc, antimony, and manganese. It does
not act upon bismuth, cobalt, or nickel. When
mixed with nitric acid it dissolves gold. Its
affinities, according to Morveau, are as follows : —
barytes, potassa, soda, lime, magnesia, ammonia,
alumina, metallic oxides.'
SEBASTIAN, king of Portugal, the posthu-
mous son of the infant John, by Joanna, daughtj •
of the emperor Charles V., succeeded to the
crown, at three years of age, in 1577, on th?
death of his grandfather John III. At the age
of twenty he undertook a romantic expedition
against the Moors in Africa, in which, however,
he performed nothing of consequence : but, im-
pressed with this object, on the application ot
Muley Hamet, king of Fez and Morocco, to as-
sist him against his uncle, Muley Moloch, he
determined to renew his attempt against the infi-
dels, lie accordingly embarked with the flower
of his nobility and military in the summer of
1578 and proceeded to Arzilla. Here he was
met by an overwhelming force, headed by Muley
Moloch in person, although so debilitated by
sickness as to be carried on a litter. In the
battle that ensued the Portuguese army broke
the first line of the Moors; and Mule'- in rally-
SEB
748
ing his men, was so exhausted, that he died in
the arms of his guards ; his last and much ex-
tolled action being to lay his fingers to his lips,
as an injunction to keep his death secret, in
order not to depress the spirits of his army.
Sebastian, on the other hand, fought with great
bravery, and had two horses killed under him.
He at length, after his attendants were all slain,
disappeared, nor was it ever known what became
of him, although a body, supposed to be his, was
restored by the Moors, and buried at Belem.
Not more than fifty Portuguese are said to have
survived* this expedition; yet such was the at-
tachment of the people to Sebastian's memory,
that a disposition to believe that he would appear
again prevailed for many years. Various impos-
tors took advantage of it.
SEBASTIAN, a town in the intendency of So-
nora, Mexico, situated on the skirt of a moun-
tain. It is of a hot temperature, and the sur-
rounding territory abounds in maize ; but the
principal pursuit is its fisheries, which are car-
ried on to a great extent on the Mazatlan. They
consist of mulattoes, mestizoes, and Indians.
Long. 106° W., lat. 24° N.
SEBASTIAN, a river of the New Kingdom of
Granada, in the province of Santa Martha, which
has a northern course and enters the swamp of
Santa Martha.
SEBASTIAN, SAN, DE Bu EN AVISTA, a decayed
town of New Granada, 140 miles S.S.W. of
Carthagena, at the mouth of the gulf of Darien.
It was formerly of much importance.
SEBASTIAN (St.), a considerable town and
fortress of Spain, the capital of the district of
Guipuscoa, in the province of Biscay. It stands
on a bay between two inlets, forming a peninsula
at the mouth of the river Uramea. It has long
been a place of great strength : the town being
fortified with bastions and half moons, and the
citadel standing on a conical eminence, accessi-
ble only by a path winding round it in a spiral
form. The harbour is small and capable of con-
taining only about thirty merchantmen ; but it is
nearly enclosed by the two moles, and protected
from winds by the adjacent eminences. Here
are three churches, five convents, and an hospi-
tal. The streets are wide, straight, and well
paved ; and the houses respectable. St. Sebas-
tian exports ships' anchors, cables, and leather,
the manufactures in the town. The environs are
pleasant, the view commanding both the sea and
the Pyrenees. The principal walk is in a de-
lightful vale to the north. St. Sebastian has
been often taken by the French, being only ten
miles from the Spanish frontier; it fell into their
hands in the war of 1719, in the revolutionary
contest of 1794, and in Buonaparte's invasion in
1808. On the last occasion it remained five
years in their possession ; and when the victory
of Vittoria had opened to the British the prospect
of its capture, the French had time to throw into
it a garrison capable of making an obstinate de-
fence. An attempt on the part of our army to
take it by assault on the 25th of July, 1813, was
repulsed with great loss. It became necessary to
;n:ike approaches with great caution, and even to
incur a severe sacrifice of lives in the final attack,
on the 31st of August, when it fell into the hands
of the British. A fire burst out in the town at
this time, which, joined to the preceding bom-
bardment, laid it almost entirely in ashes ; but
it was afterwards rebuilt. Inhabitants about
12,000. Eight miles west of Fontarabia, and
forty east of Bilboa.
SEBASTIAN (St.), a sea-port, and capital of the
island of Gomera, one of the Canaries.
SEBASTIAN (St.), an island in the Atlantic, se-
parated from the coast of Brasil by a strait about
three leagues wide. Lat. 23° 45' S. It is said
to produce the best sugar, rum, and pulse,
as well as the finest cattle in Brasil ; and is situ-
ated on a low tract of ground about 300 yards
from the beach. The inhabitants subsist chiefly
on fish. The town has been noted for its very
large canoes scooped out of the solid timber.
SEBASTIAN, (St.), DE LOS REYES, a city of
Columbia, in the Caraccas, standing on the shore
of the river Guarico. It was founded towards
the end of the sixteenth century : it is rendered
rather disagreeable for residence, by the very great
heats which the continual and strong breezes
from the north-east faintly temper. The water is
abundant. The soil of its jurisdiction, fit for
many commodities, produces scarcely any thing
but maize., but its pastures feed large herds of
cattle. Population 3500. Twenty-eight leagues
S. £ S.W. of Caraccas.
SEBASTIANO, an eminent Venetian painter,
called Del Piombo, from an office in the lead
mines given him by pope Clement VII., was
born in 1485. He was first a disciple of old
John Bellini ; continued his studies under Gior-
gione ; and, having attained an excellent manner
of coloring, went to Home, where he obtained
the favor of Michael Angelo. He invented the
art of preparing plaster-walls for oil-painting ;
but was so slow in his work that other hands
were often employed to finish what he began.
He died in 1547.
SEBAT, or SHEBET, in chronology, the fifth
month of the civil year among the Jews, and
the llth of their sacred year. It consists of
thirty days, and begins on January, and ends in
February. The Jews observe two fasts in it ; on
the tenth for the death of the elders, who out-
lived Joshua, and on the 17th for the people of
Gibeah. Judges xx.
SEBENICO, an old town of Austrian Dalma-
tia, near the mouth of the Kerka. It stands on
the slope of a rocky hill, extending to the edge
of the water, and is surrounded by fortifications.
The Kerka here expands into a lake which forms
an excellent and capacious harbour, protected
by a fort, and communicating with the Adriatic
by means of a short and narrow strait. The
town is defended by two forts on the top of the
hill. It is said to have been more considerable
in the sixteenth century, but has long been a
bishop's see, and has a Gothic cathedral, ad-
mired for the bold construction of its roof,
formed of marble slabs. The environs are fertile.
Inhabitants 6300. Thirty-seven miles south-east
of Zara, and 143 north-west of Ragousa.
SEBOO, or SAIU-, a considerable river of
Morocco, which rises in the Atlas, near the fron-
tier, traverses the province of F« >. |<as<in_' a little
to the north of the capital, and then lulls into -the
SECEDERS.
749
sea. The mouth is, however, much incommoded
by wind.
SEC ALE, rye, in botany, a genus of the di-
gynia order, and triandria class of plants ; natu-
ral order fourth, gramina: CAL. a glume of two
leaves, which are opposite to one another, erect,
linear, pointed, and less than the corolla: COR.
consists of two valves, the exterior of which ends
in a beard. There are several species.
1. S. cereale, common rye, has glumes with
rough fringes. It is a native of the island of
Candia, was introduced into England many ages
ago, and is the only species of rye cultivated in
this kingdom. There are, however, two varieties,
the winter and spring rye. I. The winter rye,
which is larger in the grain than the spring rye,
is sown in autumn, at the same time with wheat,
and sometimes mixed with it ; but, as the rye
ripens sooner than the wheat, this method must
be very exceptionable. II. The spring rye, sown
along with the oats, usually ripens as soon as
the winter rye ; but the grain produced is lighter,
and it is therefore seldom sown except where the
autumnal crop has failed. Rye is commonly
sown on poor, dry, limestone, or sandy soils,
where wheat will not thrive. By continuing to
sow it on such a soil for two or three years, it
will at length ripen a month earlier than that
which has been raised for years on strong cold
ground. Rye is commonly used for bread, either
alone or mixed with wheat. This mixture is
called meslin, and was formerly a very common
crop in some parts of Britain. Mr. Marshall
tells us, that the farmers in Yorkshire believe
that this mixed crop is never affected by mildew,
and that a small quantity of rye sown among
wheat will prevent this destructive disease. Rye
is much used for bread in some parts of Sweden
and Norway. About a century ago rye bread
was also much used in England ; but, being
made of a black kind of rye, it was of the same
color, clammy, very detergent, and consequently
not so nourishing as wheat. Rye is subject to a
disease which the French call ergot, and the
English horned rye; which sometimes happens
when a very hot summer succeeds a rainy spring.
According to Tissot, horned rye is such as suffers
an irregular vegetation in the middle substance
between the grain and the leaf, producing an ex-
crescence of a brownish color, about an inch and
a half long, and two-tenths of an inch broad.
Bread made of this kind of rye has a nauseous
and acrid taste, and produces spasmodic and
gangrenous disorders. In 1596 an epidemic
disease prevailed in Hesse, which the physicians
ascribed to bread made of horned rye. Some,
we are told, were seized with an epilepsy, and
these seldom ever recovered ; others became lu-
natic, and continued stupid the rest of their lives ;
those who apparently recovered had annual re-
turns of their disorder in January and February.
The same disease was occasioned by the use of
this bread in several parts of the continent in
1648, 1675, 1702, 1716, 1722, and 1736; and
has been very minutely described by Hoffman,
A. (). Goelicke, Vater Burghart, and J. A.
Srink. In 1709 one-fourth part of all the rye
raised in the province of Salone in France was
Corned, and the surgeon to the hospital of Or-
leans had no fewer than 500 patients under his
care that were distempered by eating .it ; they
consisted chietly of men and boys, the number
of women and girls being very small. The first
symptom was a kind of drunkenness, then the
local disorder began in the toes, and thence ex-
tended sometimes to the thigh, and the trunk it-
self, even after amputation. In 1710 the cele-
brated Fontenelle describes a case in the History
of the Academy of Sciences of France. A peasant
at Blois, who had eaten horned rye in bread,
was seized with a mortification, which first caused
all the toes of one foot to fall off, then the toes
of the other, afterwards the remainder of the feet ;
and, lastly, it ate off the flesh of both his legs
and thighs, leaving the bones bare. Horned rye
is not only hurtful to man, but to other animals ;
it has been known to destroy even the flies that
settled upon it ; sheep, dogs, deer, geese, ducks,
swine, and poultry, that were fed with it for ex-
periment, died miserably, some convulsed, others
mortified and ulcerated.
2. S. creticum, the Cretan rye, has glumes
fringed on the outside.
3. S. orientale, the oriental rye, has shaggy
glumes, and the scales of the calyx are shaped
like an awl.
4. S. villosum, the wood rye grass, has a calyx
with wedge-shaped scales, and the fringes of the
gloom is woolly.
SECANT, in geometry, is a line that cuts
another, or divides it into parts. The secant of
a circle is a line drawn from the circumference
on one side to a point without the circumference
on the other ; and it is demonstrated by geome-
ters that, of several secants drawn to the same
point, that is the longest which passes through
the centre of the circle. The portions, however,
of these several secants that are without the
circle, are so much the greater as they recede
from the centre, and the least external portion is
of that secant which passes through it.
SECEDE', v. n. \ Lat. secedo. To with-
SECE'DER, n. s. >draw from society or asso-
SECES'SION. j elation : he who withdraws
or departs: the act of withdrawing.
The accession of bodies upon, or secession thereof
from the earth's surface, perturbs not the equilibra-
tion of either hemisphere. Browne.
SECEDERS, in church history, a numerous
body of Presbyterians in Scotland, who have
withdrawn from the communion of the estab-
lished church. As they take up their ground
upon the establishment of religion from 1638 to
1650, which they hold to be the purest period
of the Scottish church, we shall introduce our
account of them by a short review of eccle-
siastical history from that period to the era
of the secession, and give a fair statement of
those events with which, as they say, their se-
cession is connected. James I. having for some
time previous to his death entertained a wish to
form the church of Scotland as much as possible
upon the model of that of England, his son
Charles, with the assistance of archbishop Laud,
endeavoured to carry the design into execution,
by establishing canons for ecclesiastical disci-
pline, and introducing a liturgy into the puhlic
service of the church. Numbers of the clergy
750
SECEDERS
and laity of all ranks took the alarm at what they
considered to be a bold and dangerous innova-
tion; and, after frequent applications to the
throne, they at last obtained the royal proclama-
tion for a free parliament and general assembly.
The assembly met in 1638, and began their
labors with a repeal of all the acts of the six
preceding parliaments, which had favored the
designs of James. They condemned the liturgy,
together with every branch of the hierarchy.
They cited all the Scottish bishops to their bar ;
and after having excommunicated nine of them,
and deposed five from their episcopal office, they
restored kirk-sessions, presbyteries, and synods,
provincial as well as national. These proceed-
ings were ratified by the parliament which met
in 1640. The law of patronage was in full force
for several years after this period ; yet great care
was taken that no minister should be obtruded
on the Christian people contrary to their incli-
nations ; and in 1649 it was abolished as an op-
pressive grievance. The restoration of Charles
II., in 1660, changed the face of affairs in the
church of Scotland. All that the general assem-
bly had done, from 1638 to 1650, was rendered
null and void, their covenants were pronounced
to be unlawful, episcopacy was restored, and the
king was declared to be the supreme head of the
church in all causes civil and ecclesiastical.
During this period the Presbyterians were sub-
jected to fines and imprisonment, while numbers
of them were publicly executed for their ad-
herence to their political and religious tenets.
The Revolution in 1688 gave a different turn to
the affairs of the church. The first parliament
which met after the event abolished prelacy, and
the king's supremacy in ecclesiastical affairs.
They ratified the Westminster Confessions of
Faith, together with the Presbyterian form of
church government and discipline, ' as agreeable
to the word of God, and most conducive to the
advancement of true piety and godliness, and
the establishment of peace and tranquillity within
these realms.' The same parliament abolished
patronage, and lodged the election of ministers
in the hands of heritors and elders, with the con-
sent of the congregation. In the reign of queen
Anne the true Protestant religion was ratified
and established, together with the Presbyterian
form of church government and discipline; and
the unalterable continuance of both was declared
to be an essential condition of the union of the
two kingdoms in all time coming. In 1712 the
law respecting patronage was revived, in resent-
ment, it has been said, of that warm attachment
which the church of Scotland discovered to the
family of Hanover ; but the severity of that law
was greatly mitigated by the first parliament of
George I. stat. 50, by which it is enacted that if
the presentee do not signify his acceptance, in
six months, the presentation shall become void
and null in law. The church, however, did not
avail herself of this statute ; and an event which
happened not many years afterwards gave rise to
the secession.
In 1732 more than forty ministers presented
an address to the general assembly, S|>ecifyingin
a variety of instances \\ hat they considered to be
great defections from the established constitution
of the church, and craving a redress of these grie-
vances. A petition to the same effect, subscribed
by several hundreds of elders and private Chris-
tians, was offered at the same time ; but the as-
sembly refused a hearing to both, and enacted
that the election of ministers to vacant charges,
where an accepted presentation did not take
place, should be competent only to a conjunc*
meeting of elders and heritors, being Protes
tants. To this act objections were made by num
bers of ministers and private Christians. They
asserted that more than thirty to one in every
parish were not possessed of landed property,
and were on that account deprived of what they
deemed their natural right to choose their own
pastors. It was also said that this act was ex-
tremely prejudicial to the honor and interest of"
the church as well as to the edification of the
people ; and, in fine, it was directly contrary to
the appointment of Jesus Christ, and the prac-
tice of the apostles, when they filled up the first
vacancy in the apostolic college, and appointed
the election of deacons and elders in the primi-
tive church. Many of those also who were thought
to be the best friends to the church expressed
their fears that this act would have a tendency
to overturn the ecclesiastical constitution which
was established at the Revolution. Mr. Ebene-
zer Erskine, minister at Stirling, distinguished
himself by a bold and determined opposition to
the measures of the assembly in 1732. Being at
that time moderator of the synod of Perth and
Stirling, he opened the meeting at Perth with a
sermon from Psalm cxviii. 22 : ' The stone which
the builders rejected is become the head stone of
the corner.' In the course of his sermon he re-
monstrated, with no small degree of freedom,
against the act of the preceding assembly with
regard to the settlement of the ministers, and
alleged that it was contrary to the word of God
and the established constitution of the church.
A formal complaint was lodged against him, for
uttering several offensive expressions in his ser-
mon before the synod. Many of the members
declared that they heard him utter nothing
but sound and seasonable doctrine ; but his ac-
cusers, insisting on their complaint, obtained an
appointment of a committee of synod to collect
what were called the offensive expressions, and
to lay them before the next diet in writing. This
was done accordingly ; and Mr. Erskine gave in
his answer to every article of the complaint.
After three days' warm reasoning on this affair,
the synod by a majority of six found him censu-
rable ; against which sentence he protested, and
appealed to the next general assembly. When
the assembly met, in May 1733, it affirmed the
sentence of the synod, and appointed Mr. Ers-
kine to be rebuked and admonished from the
chair. Upon which he protested, that, as the as-
sembly had found him censurable, and had re-
buked him for doing what he conceived to be
agreeable to the word of God and the standards
of the church, he should be at liberty to preach
the same truths, and to testify against the same
or similar evils, on every proper occasion. To
this protest Messrs. William Wilson minister at
Perth, Alexander Moncrieff minister at Aberne-
thv, and James Fisher minister at Kinclaven,
g;ui> in a written adherence, under the form of
instrument ; and these four withdrew, intending
SECEDERS.
751
1o return to their respective charges, and act
agreeably to their protest whenever they should
have an opportunity. Had the affair rested here,
there never would have been a secession ; but the
assembly, resolving to carry on the process,
cited them by their officer to appear next day.
They obeyed the citation ; and a committee
•was appointed to retire with them to persuade
them to withdraw their protest. The committee
having reported that they still adhered to their
protest, the assembly ordered them to appear
before the commission in August following and
retract their protest ; and if they should not comply,
and testify their sorrow for their conduct, the
commission was empowered to suspend them from
the exercise of their ministry, with certification
that, if they should act contrary to thesaid sentence,
the commission should proceed to a higher cen-
sure. The commission met in August accordingly;
and the four ministers, still adhering to their
protest, were suspended from the exercise of their
office, and cited to the next meeting of the com-
mission in the November following. From this
sentence several ministers and elders, members of
the commission, dissented. The commission met
in November, and the suspended ministers com-
peared. Addresses, representations, and letters
from several synods and presbyteries, relative to
the business now before the commission, were
received and read. The synods of Dumfries,
Murray, Ross, Angus and Mearns, Perth, and
Stirling, craved that the commission would delay
proceeding to a high censure. The synods of
Galloway and Fife, as also the presbytery of
Dornoch, addressed the commission for lenity,
tenderness, and forbearance towards the sus-
pended ministers ; and the presbytery of Aber-
deen represented that, in their judgment, the
sentence of suspension inflicted on the aforesaid
ministers was too high, and that it was a stretch
of ecclesiastical authority. Many members of
the commission reasoned in the same manner,
and alleged that the act and sentence of the last
assembly did not oblige them to proceed to a
higher censure at this meeting of the commission.
The question, however, was put, Proceed to a
higher censure, or not? and the votes, being
numbered, were found equal on both sides : up-
on which Mr. John Goldie, the moderator, gave
his casting vote to proceed to a higher censure ;
which stands in their minutes in these words: —
' The commission did and hereby do loose the
relation of Mr. Ebenezer Erskine minister at Stir-
ling, Mr. William Wilson minister at Perth, Mr.
Alexander Moncrieff minister at Abernethy, and
Mr. James Fisher minister at Kinclaven, to their
respective charges, and declare them no longer
ministers of this church ; and do hereby prohibit
all ministers of this church to employ them, or
any of them, in any ministerial function. And the
commission do declare the churches of the said
ministers vacant from and after the date of this
sentence.' This sentence being intimated to
them, they protested that their ministerial office,
and relation to their respective charges, should
be held as valid as if no such sentence had passed;
and that they were now obliged to make a seces-
sion from the prevailing party in the ecclesiastical
courts ; and that it shall be lawful and warrant-
able for them to preach the gospel and discharge
every branch of the pastoral office, according to
the word of God and the established principles of
the church of Scotland. Mr. Ralph Erskine mi-
nister at Dunfermline, Mr. Thomas Mairministei
at Orwel, Mr. John M'Laren minister at Edin-
burgh, Mr. John Currie minister at Kinglassie,
Mr. James Wardlaw minister at Dunfermline,
arid Mr. Thomas Nairn minister at Abbotshal,
protested against the sentence of the commission,
and that it should be lawful for them to complain
of it to any subsequent general assembly of the
church. The secession properly commenced at
this date. And accordingly the ejected ministers
declared, in their protest, that they were laid un-
der the disagreeable necessity of seceding, not
from the principles and constitution of the church
of Scotland, to which they said they stedfastly
adhered, but from the present church-courts,
which had thrown them out from ministerial com-
munion.
The assembly which met in May 1734 did so
far modify the above sentence that they empow-
ered the synod of Perth and Stirling to receive
the ejected ministers into the communion of the
church, and restore them to their respective
charges; but with this express direction, ' that the
said synod should not take upon them to judge
of the legality or formality of the former proce-
dure of the church judicatories in relation to this
affair, or either approve or censure the same.' As
this appointment neither condemned the act of
the preceding assembly, nor the conduct of the
commission, the seceding ministers considered it
to be rather an act of grace than of justice, and
therefore they said they could not return to the
church-courts upon this ground ; and they pub-
lished to the world the reasons of their refusal,
and the terms upon which they were willing to
return to the communion of the established
church. They now erected themselves into an
ecclesiastical court, which they called the Asso-
ciated Presbytery, and preached occasionally to
numbers of people who joined them in different
parts of the country. They also published what
they called an Act, Declaration, and Testimony,
to the doctrine, worship, government, and disci-
pline of the church of Scotland, and against se-
veral instances, as they said, of defection from
these, both in former and in the present times.
Some time after this several ministers of the
established church joined them, and the Associ-
ated Presbytery now consisted of eight ministers.
But the general assembly which met in 1738,
finding that the number of seceders was much
increased, ordered the eight ministers to be serv-
ed with a libel, and to be cited to the next meet-
ing of the assembly in 1739. They now appear-
ed at the bar as a constituted presbytery, and,
having formally declined the assembly's authority,
they immediately withdrew. The assembly which
met next year deposed them from the office of the
ministry, which, however, they continued to ex-
ercise in their respective congregations, who still
adhered to them, and erected meeting-houses,
where they preached till their death. Mr. James
Fisher, the last survivor of them, \vas by a unan-
imous call, in 1741, translated from Kinclaven
to Glasgow, where he continued in the exercise
752
S E C K E R.
of his ministry among a numerous congregation,
respected by all ranks in that large city, and
died in 1775, much regretted by his people and
friends. In 1745 the seceding ministers were
become so numerous that they were erected into
three different presbyteries, under one synod,
•when a very unprofitable dispute divided them
into two parties. The burgess oath, in some of
the royal burghs of Scotland, contains the follow-
ing clause : — ' I profess and allow with my heart
the true religion presently professed within this
realm, and authorised by the laws thereof. I
will abide at and defend the same to my life's
end, renouncing the Romish religion called Pa-
pistry.' Messrs. Ebenezer and Ralph Erskine,
James Fisher, and others airirmed that this clause
was no way contrary to the principles upon
which the secession was formed, and that there-
fore every seceder might lawfully swear it.
Messrs. Alexander Moncrieff, Thomas Mai r, Adam
Gib, and others, contended, on the other hand,
that the swearing of the above clause was a vir-
tual renunciation of their testimony. And this
controversy was so keenly agitated that they split
into two different parties, and long met in different
synods.
Those of them who asserted the lawfulness of
swearing the burgess oath were called burghers,
and the other party who condemned it anti-
burgher seceders, each party claiming to itself
the lawful constitution of the associate synod.
The antiburghers, after several previous steps, ex-
communicated the burghers on the ground of
their sin, and of their contumacy in it. This
rupture took place in 1747, since which period
no successful attempts to effect a re-union were
made until recently. The parties remained
under the jurisdiction of different synods, and
held separate communion ; at length their for-
mer hostility was laid aside, and they finally
became one body. See BURGHERS.
SECERN', v. a. Lat. secerno. To separate
finer from grosser matter ; to make the separation
of substances in the body.
Birds are better meat than beasts, because their
flesh doth assimilate more finely, and secerneth more
subtilly. Bacon.
The pituite or mucus secerned in the nose and
windpipe, is not an excrementitious but a laudable
humour, necessary for defending those parts, from
which it is secerned, from excoriations. Arbuthnut.
SECHIUM, in botany, a genus of the synge-
nesia order, and moncecia class of plants ; na-
tural order thirty-fourth, cucurbitaceae : MALE
CAL. quinquedentate and monophyllous : COR.
monopetalous ; the five filaments are united in
an erect tube. In the female flower the pistil-
lum is cylindrical and erect; the stigma large,
peltated, and reflected ; the pericarpium large,
oval, unequal, fleshy, and unilocular, containing
one seed, which is smooth, compressed, and
fleshy. Of this there is only one species, viz.
S. edule, or Chocho vine. This is cultivated and
grows very luxuriantly in many places in Ja-
maica. The vines run and spread very much.
The fruit is boiled, and served up at table by way
of greens ; and the root of the old vine is some-
what like a yam (dioscorea), and, on being boiled
roasted, tastes farinaceous and wholesome.
SECKENDOIIF (Guy Lewis de), a very-
learned German, descended from an ancient and
noble family, was born at Aurach in Franconia
in 162G. He was a good linguist ; learned in law,
history, and divinity ; and is said to have been
a tolerable painter and engraver. He was ho-
norably employed by several German princes ;
and died counsellor of state to Frederick III. elec-
tor of Brandenburg, and chancellor of the uni-
versity of Halle, in 1692. He wrote A History
and Defence of Lutheranism, 2 vols., fol., Frank-
fort, 1702, in Latin, &c. &c.
SECKER (Thomas), a learned prelate of the
church of England, born in 1693, at Sibthorp,
in Nottinghamshire. His father was a protestant
dissenter, who, having a small paternal fortune,
followed no profession. His mother was the
daughter of Mr. George Brough, a substantial
gentleman farmer of Shelton in the same county.
He received his education at several private
schools and academies in the country. Notwith-
standing the disadvantage of changing his teach-
ers, he had, at the age of nineteen, not only made
a considerable progress in Greek and Latin, but
in French, Hebrew, Chaldee, and Syriac ; logic,
algebra, geometry, and conic sections, and gone
through a course of lectures on Jewish antiqui-
ties, lie had been destined by his father for
taking -orders among the dissenters. With this
view his studies were chiefly turned towards
divinity, in which he had made such quick ad-
vances that, by the time he was twenty-three, he
had carefully read over a great part of the Scrip-
tures, particularly the New Testament, in the
original, and the best comments upon it; Euse-
bius's Ecclesiastical History ; The Apostolical
Fathers; Whiston's Primitive Christianity; and
the principal writers for and against Ministerial
and Lay Conformity. But, though the result of
these enquiries was a well-grounded belief of the
Christian revelation, yet, not being then able to
determine what communion he should embrace,
he resolved to pursue some profession, which
should leave him at liberty to weigh the various
disputed points more maturely before he should
decide upon them. In 1716, therefore, he studied
physic, and, after gaining all the medical know-
ledge he could by reading and attending the best
lectures in London, to improve himself farther,
in January 1718-9, he went to Paris. There
he lodged in the same house with the famous
anatomist Winslow, whose lectures he attended,
as he did those on the materiamedica, chemistry,
and botany, at the king's gardens. The opera-
tions of surgery he saw at the Hotel Dieu, and
attended also for some time M. Gregoire, the ac-
coucheur, but without any design of practising sur-
gery. Here he became acquainted with Mr. Mar-
tin Benson, soon afterwards bishop of Gloucester,
one of the most virtuous men of his time. During
his continuance at Paris he also kept up a cor-
respondence with Mr. Joseph Butler, afterwards
bishop of Durham. Mr. Butler, having been
appointed preacher at the rolls on the recom-
mendation of Dr. Clarke and Mr. Edward
Talbot, son to bishop Talbot, he mentioned his
friend Mr. Seeker, without his knowledge, to
Mr. Talbot, who promised, if he chose to take
orders in the church of England, to engage the
S E C K E R.
7:33
bishop his father to provide for him. This was
communicated to Mr. Seeker in a letter from
Mr. Butler, in May 1720. Having continued
his studies in theology, his former difficulties with
regard to conformity had gradually lessened as
his reading and knowledge became more exten-
sive. After deliberating on Mr. Butler's proposal
of such a change for two months, he resolved to
embrace the offer, and left France in August
1720. On his arrival in England he was intro-
duced to Mr. Talbot, but in December that gen-
tleman died of the small-pox. This was a great
shock to all his friends, but especially to an
amiable lady whom he had lately married, and
who was very near sinking under so sudden
and grievous a stroke. It was some encourage-
ment, however, to Mr. Seeker to find that Mr.
Talbot had, on his death-bed, recommended
him, with Mr. Benson and Mr. Butler, to his
father's notice. Thus did that excellent young
man (for he was but twenty-nine when he died)
raise up, when he least thought of it, the truest
friend and protector to his wife and unborn
daughter ; who afterwards found in Mr. Seeker
all that tender care and assistance which they
could have hoped for from the nearest relation.
Mr. Seeker next went over to Leydeu, and took
his degree of M. D. in March 1721 : and as
part of his exercise for it he composed and
printed a dissertation, De Medicina Statica, which
is still extant, and is esteemed a sensible and
learned performance. In April 1721 he entered
commoner of Exeter College, Oxford ; after
which he obtained the degree of A. B. He now
spent a considerable part of his time in London,
where he gained the esteem of some of the most
learned men of those days, particularly of Dr.
Clarke, rector of St. James's, and the celebrated
dean Berkeley, afterwards bishop of Cloyne. He
paid frequent visits of gratitude to Mrs. Talbot,
widow of Mr. Edward Talbot, by whom she had
a daughter five months after his decease. With
her lived Mrs. Catharine Benson, sister to bishop
Benson, whom in several respects she resembled.
She had been for many years Mrs. Talbot's inse-
parable companion, and was of unspeakable
service to her at the time of her husband's death.
Bishop Talbot, being in 1721 appointed to the
see of Durham, Mr. Seeker was, in 1722, or-
dained deacon by him, and priest not long after,
in St. James's church, where he preached his first
sermon, March 28th, 1723. The bishop's do-
mestic chaplain at that time was Dr. Rundle, a
man of warm fancy and very brilliant conversa-
tion. With him Mr. Seeker was associated in
the bishop's family, and both taken down by his
lordship to Durham in July 1723. In 1724 the
bishop gave Mr. Seeker the rectory of Houghton
le Spring. This enabling him to fix himself in the
world, he proposed marriage to Mrs. Benson ;
which being accepted, they were married by
bishop Talbot in 1725. At the earnest request
of both, Mrs. Talbot and her daughter consented
to live with them, and the two families from that
time became one. About this time bishop Talbot
also gave preferments to Mr. Butler and Mr. Ben-
son, whose rise and progress in the church is here
itjterwoven with the history of Mr. Seeker. In the
-••ijiter of 1 725-6 Mr. Butler first published his in-
VOL. XIX.
comparable sermons; on which Mr. Seeker took
pains to render the style more familiar, and the
meaning more obvious. Mr. Seeker gave his
friend the same assistance in that noble work the
Analogy of Religion, &c. He now devoted all
the time he possibly could to his residence at
Houghton, fulfilling all the duties of a country
clergyman with the strictest propriety. He
brought down his sermons to the level of the un-
derstandings of his people ; he visited them in
private, catechised the young and ignorant, re-
ceived his neighbours and tenants kindly and
hospitably, and was of great service to the poorer
sort by his skill in physic. Though this place
was in a very remote part of the world, yet the
solitude of it perfectly suited his studious dispo-
sition, and the income satisfied his ambition.
Here he would have been content to live and die;
but Mrs. Seeker's health, which was injured by
the dampness of the situation, obliged him to
think of exchanging it for a more healthy one.
Accordingly an exchange was made, through the
interposition of Mr. Benson, with Drv Finney,
prebendary of Durham, and rector of Ilyton ; and
Mr. Seeker was instituted to Ryton and the pre-
bend June 3d, 1727. In July 1732 he was ap-
pointed chaplain to the king ; for which favor he
was indebted to Dr. Sherlock, who, having heard
him preach at Bath, had conceived the highest
opinion of his abilities. From that time an inti-
macy commenced between them. On Sunday
the 27th of August he preached before the queen,
the king being then abroad. A few days after
her majesty sent for him into her closet, and held
a long conversation with him ; in the course of
which he mentioned to her his friend Mr. Butler;
which occasioned his rise to those high dignities
which he afterwards attained. See BUTLER. Mr.
Seeker now began to have a public character,
and was esteemed an eminent preacher. He was
accordingly instituted rector of St. James's on
the 18th May, 1733 ; and in July went to Oxford
to take his degree of LL. D. On this occasion
he preached his celebrated Act Sermon, on the
advantages and duties of an academical educa-
tion, which was universally allowed to be a
masterpiece. It was printed at the desire of the
heads of houses, and quickly passed through
several editions. It is in the second collection of
Occasional Sermons, published by himself in
1766. The reputation he acquired by this ser-
mon contributed towards his farther promotion.
In December 1734 the king fixed on him to be
bishop of Bristol. Dr. Benson was at the same
time appointed to the see of Gloucester, and Dr.
Fleming to that of Carlisle ; and the three new
bishops were all consecrated together in Lambeth
Chapel, January 19th 1734-5, the consecration-
sermon being preached by Dr. Thomas, after-
wards bishop of Winchester. The honors to
which Dr. Seeker was thus raised in the prime
of life did not abate his diligence, for which, in-
deed, there was now more occasion than ever.
The affairs of his parish of St. James's being like-
wise in great disorder, he regulated and adjusted
every thing, particularly the management of the
poor ; and thus became of signal service to his
parishioners, even in a temporal view ; though
their spiritual welfare eagaged his chief attention,
754
S E C K E R.
He allowed out of his own income a salary for
reading early and late prayers. He held a con-
firmation once a year ; examined the candidates
several weeks before in the vestry ; and gave
them religious tracts, which he also distributed
very liberally to all that needed them. He drew
up, for the use of his parishioners, that admirable
course of Lectures on the Church Catechism
which has been since published, and read them
once a week, and every Sunday evening, either
at the church or one of the chapels. The ser-
mons which he composed were truly excellent
and original. He reproved the follies and vices
of all ranks without distinction or palliation.
Few ever possessed, in a higher degree, the rare
talent of touching on the most delicate subjects
with the nicest propriety, of saying the most
familiar things without being low, the plainest
without being feeble, the boldest without giving
offence. His preaching was, at the same time,
highly rational and truly evangelical. He ex-
plained, with perspicuity and dignity, the pecu-
liar characteristic doctrines of the gospel. He
inculcated the utility, the necessity of them, not
merely as speculative truths, but as actual instru-
ments of moral goodness, tending to purify the
hearts and regulate the lives of men ; and thus,
by God's gracious appointment, as well as by
the inseparable connexion between true faith and
right practice, leading them to salvation. By such
doctrines, and with such powers, he quickly be-
came one of the most popular preachers of his
time. In 1737 he succeeded to the see of Ox-
ford, on the promotion of Dr. Potter to that of
Canterbury. In spring 1748 Mrs. Seeker died
of the gout in her stomach. She was a woman
of great sense and merit. The bishop's affection
for her was suited to his character. In 1750 he
was installed dean of St. Paul's, for which he
gave in exchange the rectory of St. James's and
his prebend of Durham. When he preached his
farewell sermon the whole audience melted into
tears ; and he was followed with their prayers
and good wishes. Having now leisure both to
prosecute his own studies, and to encourage those
of others, he gave Dr. Church considerable as-
sistance in his First and Second Vindication of
the Miraculous powers, &c., against Dr. Middle-
ton, and he was of equal use to him in his Ana-
lysis of Lord Bolingbroke's Works. About the
same time began archdeacon Sharp's controversy
with the followers of Mr. Hutcheson, which was
carried on to the end of 1755. Bishop Seeker
read over all Dr. S-harp's papers, amounting to 3
vols. 8vo., and improved them throughout. But
the ease which his change of situation gave him was
disturbed by a heavy and unexpected stroke, viz.
the loss of his three friends, bishops Butler, Ben-
son, and Berkely, who were all cut off within one
year. Dr. Seeker bore an active part in the house
of lords in the famous repeal of the Jew Bill ;
for which the duke of Newcastle moved, and
was seconded by the bishop, in a speech which
was remarkably well received. On the death of
archbishop Hutton, he was promoted to the see
of Canterbury, and was confirmed at Bow church,
April 21st, 1758; on which occasion his biogra-
phers, Messrs. Porteus and Stinton, observe,
that, ' iu accepting this high and burdensome
station, Dr. Seeker sacrificed his own ease and
comfort to considerations of public utility ; that
the mere secular advantages of granaeur were
objects below his ambition ; and were but poor
compensations for the anxiety and difficulties
attending them. He had never once through
his whole life asked preferment for himself," and
the use he made of his newly acquired dignity
showed that rank, wealth, and power, had no
other charms for him, than as they enlarged the
sphere of his active and industrious benevolence.'
He sought out and encouraged men of real
genius and extensive knowledge ; he expended
£300 in arranging and improving the MS. li-
brary at Lambeth ; and, observing that the' library
of printed books in that palace had received no
additions since the time of archbishop Tennison,
he collected books in all languages from most
parts of Europe, at a very great expense, to
supply that chasm ; which he did, by leaving
these to the library at his death, and thereby
rendered that collection one of the most useful
in the kingdom. All institutions which tended
to advance good morals and true religion, he
patronised with zeal and generosity: he con-
tributed largely to the maintenance of schools
for the poor; to rebuilding or repairing par-
sonage houses and places of worship ; and gave
£600 towards erecting a chapel in the parish of
Lambeth. To the society for promoting Chris-
tian knowledge he was a liberal benefactor ; and
to that for propagating the gospel in foreign
parts, of which he was the president, he paid
much attention ; was constant at all the meetings
of its members, and superintended their delibe-
rations. Whenever any publications came to his
knowledge that were calculated to corrupt good
morals, or to ridicule Christianity, he did his ut-
most to stop the circulation of them ; yet th
wretched authors he was so far from wishing to
treat with rigor, that he often extended his bounty
to them in distress. And when their writings
could not properly be suppressed (as was too
often the case) by lawful authority, he engaged
men of abilities to answer them, and rewarded
them for their trouble. Even the falsehoods and
misrepresentations of writers in the newspapers,
on religious or ecclesiastical subjects, he took
care to have contradicted; and when they seemed
likely to injure the cause of virtue and religion,
or the reputation of eminent and worthy men,
he would sometimes take the trouble of answer-
ing them himself. One instance of this kind
was his defence of bishop Butler, who, in a pam-
phlet published in 1767, was accused of having
died a Papist. The conduct which he observed
towards the several sects of Christians in this
kingdom was such as showed his way of think-
ing to be truly liberal. The dangerous spirit
of popery, indeed, he tliought should always
be kept under proper legal restraints, on ac-
count of its natural opposition, not only to the
religious, but. the civil rights of mankind. He
therefore observed its movements with care, and
exhorted his clergy to do the same, especially
those who were situated in the midst of Roman
Catholic families ; against whose influence they
were charged to be upon their guard, and were
furnished with proper books for that purpose.
S E C K E K.
75;
He took all fit opportunities of combating the
errors of the church of Rome in his own writings ;
and the best answers that were published to
some of the late bold apologies for popery were
written at his instance, and under his direction.
See his Sermons on the Rebellion in 1745; on
the Protestant working schools in Ireland ; on
the 5th of November ; and many occasional pas-
sages in his other works. With the Dissenters
he was desirous of cultivating a good under-
standing. He considered them, in general, as a
conscientious and valuable class of men. With
some of the most eminent of them, Watts, Dod-
dridge, Leland, Chandler, and Lardner, he
maintained an intercourse of friendship. By the
most candid part of them he was highly esteem-
ed ; and to such among them as needed help
he showed no less kindness and liberality than
to those of his own communion. Nor was his
concern for the Protestant cause confined to his
own country. He was the great patron and
piotector of it in various parts of Europe ; whence
he had frequent applications for assistance, which
never failed of being favorably received. To
several foreign Protestants he allowed pensions,
tr others he gave occasional relief, and to some
of their universities was an annual benefactor.
In public affairs, he acted the part of an honest
citizen, and a worthy member of the British
legislature. From his first entrance into the
house of peers, his parliamentary conduct was
uniformly upright and noble. He kept equally
clear from the extremes of factious petulance
and servile dependence ; never wantonly thwart-
ing administration from motives of party zeal,
private pique, personal attachment, or a passion
for popularity ; nor yet going every length with
every minister from views of interest or ambi-
tion. He admired and loved the constitution of
his country, and wished to preserve it unimpair-
ed. When the measures of government were
inconsistent with the public welfare, he opposed
them with freedom and firmness. Yet his oppo-
sition was always tempered with the utmost
fidelity, respect, and decency, to the excellent
prince upon the throne ; and the most candid
allowances for the unavoidable errors even of the
very best ministers, who govern a free and high
spirited people. He seldom spoke in parliament,
except where the interests of religion and virtue
seemed to require it ; but, when he did, he spoke
with propriety and strength, and was heard with
attention and deference. His chief political
connexions were with the late duke of Newcastle
and lord chancellor Hardwicke, to whom he
principally owed his advancement ; and he lived
long enough to show his gratitude. During
more than ten years that Dr. Seeker enjoyed the
see of Canterbury, he resided constantly at his
archiepiscopal house at Lambeth. He had been
for many years subject to the gout, which, in the
latter part of his life, returned with more fre-
quency and violence, and did not go off in a
regular manner, but left the parts very weak,
and was succeeded by pains in different parts of
the body. On Saturday July 30th, 1768, he was
seized, as he sat at dinner, with a sickness at his
stomach. He recovered before night ; but the
next evening, while his servants were raising him
on his coucli, he suddenly cried out that his
thigh-bone was broken. When the surgeons
arrived, and discovered that the bone was broken,
he was perfectly resigned. A fever soon ensued.
On Tuesday he became lethargic, and continued
so tiU'Wednesday about 5 P. M., when he ex-
pired with great calmness, in the seventy-fifth
year of his age. On examination, the thigh-bone
was found to be carious about four inches in
length, and at nearly the same distance from its
head. The disease took its rise from the internal
part of the bone, and had so entirely destroyed
its substance, that nothing remained at the part
where it was broken but a portion of its outwan1
integument; and even this had many perfora-
tions, one of which was large enough to admit
two fingers, and was filled with a fungous sub-
stance arising from within the bone. There was
no appearance of matter about the caries, and the
surrounding parts were in a sound state. It
was apparent that the torture which he under-
went during the gradual corrosion of this bone
must have been inexpressibly great. Except
some very slight defects of memory, he retained
all his faculties and senses. He was buried in a
covered passage, between the palace and the
church ; and he forbade any monument or epi-
taph to be placed over him. By his will he
appointed the Rev. Dr. Daniel Burton, canon of
Christ church, and Mrs. Catherine Talbot, his
executors ; and left £13,000 in trust to Drs. Por-
teus and Stinton, his chaplains ; to pay the
interest thereof to Mrs. Talbot and her daughter
during their lives, or the life of the survivor ;
and after their decease £11,000 of the said
£13,000 to be transferred to charitable pur-
poses ; amongst which were £1000 to the Society
for the Propagation of the Gospel, and £1000 to
the same society for a bishop or bishops in the
king's dominions in America. He was ta'l and
comely ; in the early part of his life slender ;
but as he advanced in years his constitution
gained strength, and his size increased, yet
never to a degree of corpulency. The dignity
of his form corresponded with the greatness of
his mind, and inspired at all times respect and
awe ; but peculiarly so when he was engaged in
any of the more solemn functions of religion,
which added new life and spirit to the natural
gracefulness of his appearance. His countenance
was open, ingenuous, and expressive. It varied
easily with his feelings, so as to be a faithful
interpreter of his mind, which was incapable of
dissimulation. It could speak dejection, and,
on occasion, anger, very strongly ; but, when it
meant to show approbation, it softened into a
most gracious smile, and diffused over all his
features the most benevolent and reviving com-
placency.
SEC'LE, n. x. Fr. siecle ; Lat. sectdum. A
century.
Of a man's age, part he lives in his father's life-
time, and part after his son's birth ; and thereupon
it is wont to be said that three generations make one
secle, or hundred years, in the genealogies.
Hammond'* Practical Catechism.
SECLUDE', v. a. Lat. secludo. To confine
from ; shut up apart ; exclude.
3 C2
SEC
756
SEC
None is secluded from that function, of any de-
gree, state, or calling. Whitgiflt.
Some parts of knowledge God has thought fit to
seclude from us ; to fence them not only, as he did the
interdicted tree, by combination, but with difficulties
and impossibilities. Decay of Piety.
The number of birds described may be near five
hundred, and of fishes, secluding shell-fish, as many ;
but, if the shell-fish be taken in, more than six times
the number. Roy.
Let eastern tyrants from the light of heaven
Seclude their bosom slaves. Thomson.
Inclose your tender plants in your conservatory,
secluding all entrance of cold. Evelyn's Kalendar.
SECOMI/E, in the old system of mineralogy,
a genus of fossils of the class of septariae. The
characters are, That they are bodies of dusky
hue ; divided by septa, or partitions of a sparry
matter, into several more or less regular por-
tions; of a moderately firm texture; not giving
fire with steel ; but fermenting with acid men-
strua, and easily calcining. The septarise of this
genus are of all others the most common, and
are what have been known by the mistaken
names of the waxen vein, or ludus Ilelmontii.
Of the whitish or brownish, we have thirteen ;
of the yellowish five; and of the ferruginous
ones four.
SEC'OND, adj.,n.s.&v.a.~\ Fr. second; Lat.
SEC'OND-HAND, adj. j secundus. It is
SEC'OND-SIGHT, n. s. '.observable that
SEC'ONDARY, adj. & n.s. j we have no ordi-
SEC'ONDARILY, adv. \ nal of two, says
SEC'ONDRATE. J Dr. Johnson, as
the Latins, and the nations deriving from them,
have none of duo. What the Latins call secundus,
from sequor, the Saxons term ofcen, or zeptena.
The next in order to the first; the ordinal of two:
second-hand and second-rate mean in the next
place of order or value : a second is the supporter
of the principal in a duel ; any supporter : a
second, or second minute of time, the second di-
vision of an hour by sixty : to second is, to fol-
low next in place; maintain; support: a se-
condary is a deputy or delegate ; and the other
derivatives correspond.
First, «he hath disobeyed the law ; and, tecondly,
trespassed against her husband. F.cclus. xxiii. 23.
The authors of the former opinion were presently
seconded by other wittier and better learned, who
being loth that the form of church polity, which they
sought to bring in, should be otherwise than in the
highest degree accounted of, took first an exception
against the difference between church polity and
matters of necessity to salvation. Hooker.
Though we here fall down,
We have supplies to tecond our attempt ;
If they miscarry, theirs shall second them.
Shakspeare. Henry VI.
Having formerly discoursed of a maritimal voyage,
I think it not impertinent to tecond the same with
iome necessary relations concerning the royal navy.
Raleigh.
I shall not speak superlatively of them, lest 1 be
suspected of partiality; but this I may truly say,
•they are second to none in the Christian world.
Bacon's Advice to Villien.
Two are the radical differences : the secondary dif-
ferences are as four. Bacon't Natural Histori/.
•First, metals are more durable than plants ; and,
tecnndly. they are more solid and hard. Bacon. _.
Their seconds minister on oath,
Which was indifferent to them both.
That on their knightly faith and troth
No magick them supplied ;
And sought them that they had no charms.
Wherewith to work each other's hanns,
But came with simple open arms
To have their causes tried. Drayton's Nytnpkiad.
He propounded the duke as a main cause of divers
infirmities in the state, being sure enough of leconds
after the first onset. Woitm.
It is primarily generated out of the effusion of me-
lancholick blood, or secondarily out of the dregs and
remainder of a phlegmonous or cedematick tumour.
Harvey.
These atoms make the wind primarily tend down-
wards, though other accidental causes impel it
secondarily to a sloping motion. Digby.
Four flames of an equal magnitude will be kept
alive the space of sixteen second minutes, though one
of these flames alone, in the same vessel, wdl not
last above twenty-five, or at most thirty seconds.
Wilkins's Mathematical Magick.
None I know
Second to me, or like ; equal much less. Milton.
I to be the power of Israel's God
Avow, and challenge Dagon to the test,
Offering to combat thee, his champion bold
With the' utmost of his godhead seconded. Id.
That we were formed then, sayest thou, and the
work
Of secondary hands, by task transferred
From father to his son ">. Id. Paradise Lost.
Familiar Ovid tender thoughts inspires,
And nature seconds all his soft desires. Ruscommon.
He confesses that temples are erected, and festivals
kept, to the honour of saints, at least secondarily.
Stillingfleet.
They pelted them with satires and epigrams, which
perhaps had been taken up at first only to make their
court, and at second-hand to flatter those who had
flattered their king. Temple.
A second Paris, differing but in name,
Shall fire his country with a second flame. Dryden.
My eyes are still the same ; each glance, each grace,
K«ep their first lustre, and maintain their place,
Not second yet to any other face. Id.
He was not then a second-rate champion, as they
would have him who think fortitude the first virtue in
a hero. Id.
Wheresoever there is moral right on the one hand,
no secondary right can discharge it. L'Estrange.
Sounds move above 1140 English feet in a tecond
of time, and in seven or eight minutes of time about
100 English miles. I.oche.
Some men build so much upon authorities, they
have but a second-hand or implicit knowledge. Id.
That which is peculiar and discriminative must be
taken from the primariness and secondanness of tho
perception. Norris.
ID imitation of preachers at second-hand, I shall
transcribe from Bruyere a piece of raillery. Taller.
Sin is seconded with sin ; and a man seldom com.
mils one sin to please, but he commits another to
defend himself. '• South.
Not these huge bolts, by which the giants slain
Lay overthrown on the Phlegrean plain ;
'Twas of a lesser mould and lighter weight ;
They call it thunder of a tecond rate. Addison.
Their first encounters were very furious, till, after
soW toil and bloodshed, they were parted by tlie
seconds. Id.
Sawney was descended of an ancient family, re-
nowned for their skill in prognostics : roost of hii
SECOND SIGHT.
757
ancestors were second sighted, and his mother but nar-
rowly escaped for a witch. !&•
As he was going out to steal a sheep, he was seized
with a fit of second siyht : the face of the country pre-
sented him with a wide prospect of new scenes,
which he had never seen before. Id. Freeholder.
They call it thunder of the second-rate. Id. Ovid.
As in a watch's fine machine
Though many artful springs are seen,
The added movements which declare
How full the moon, how old the year,
Derive their secondary power
From that which simply points the hour. Prior.
Courage, when it is only a second to injustice, and
falls on without provocation, is a disadvantage to a
character. Collier.
Gravitation is the powerful cement which holds
together this magnificent structure of the world,
which stretcheth the north over the empty space,
and hangeth the earth upon nothing, to transfer the
words of Job from the first and real cause to the
tecondarv. Bentley.
If the system had been fortuitously formed by the
convening matter of a chaos, how is it conceivable
that all the planets, both primary and secondary,
should revolve the same way, from the west to the
east, and that in the same plane 1 Id.
By a sad train of miseries alone
Distinguished long, and second now to none. Pope.
En human works, though laboured on with pain,
A thousand movements scarce one purpose gain ;
In God's, one single can its ends produce,
Yet serves to second too some other use. Id.
Persons of second rate merit in their own country,
like birds of passage, thrive here, and fly off when
their employments are at an end. Su-ift.
Spurious virtue in a maid ;
A virtue but at second-hand. Id.
If in company you offer something for a jest, and
nobody seconds you in your laughter, you may con-
demn their taste, but in the mean time you make a
very indifferent figure. Id.
The house of commons in Ireland, and, secondly,
the privy council, addressed his majesty against these
half-pence. Id.
Personal brawls come in as seconds to finish the
dispute of opinion. Watts.
SECOND, in geometry, chronology, &c., is the
sixtieth part of a prime, whether of a degree or
of an hour.
SECOND, in music, one of the musical intervals;
being only the difference between any sound and
the next nearest sound, whether above or below
it. See INTERVAL.
SECOND SIGHT (in Erse Taisch), is a mode of
seeing supposed to be superadded to that which
nature generally bestows. This gift or faculty,
which is neither voluntary nor constant, is in
general rather troublesome than agreeable to the
possessors of it, who are chiefly found among
the inhabitants of the Highlands of Scotland,
those of the Western Isles, of the Isle of Man,
and of Ireland. It is an impression made either
by the mind upon the eye, or by the eye upon
the mind, by which things distant or future are
perceived, and seen as if they were present. A
man on a journey far from home falls from his
horse ; another, who is perhaps at work about
the house, sees him bleeding on the ground,
commonly with a landscape of the place where
the accident befals him. Another seer, driving
home his cattle, or wandering in idleness, or
musing in the sunshine, is suddenly surprised by
the appearance of a bridal ceremony, or funeral
procession, and counts the mourners or attend-
ants, of whom, if he knows them, he relates the
names ; if he knows them not, he can describe
the dresses. Things distant are seen at the
instant when they happen. Of things future,
Johnson says that he knows no rule pretended
to for determining the time between the sight
and the event ; but we are informed by Mr.
Grose that in general the time of accomplish-
ment bears some relation to the time of the day
in which the impressions are received. Thus
visions seen early in the morning (which seldom
happens) will be much sooner accomplished
than th,ose appearing at noon ; and those seen at
noon will take place in a much shorter time than
those happening at night ; sometimes the accom-
plishment of the last does not fall out within a
year or more. These visions are not confined
to solemn or important events ; nor is it true, as
is commonly reported, that to the second sight
nothing is presented but phantoms to evil. The
future visit of a mountebank, or piper ; a plen-
tiful draught of fish ; the arrival of common tra-
vellers ; or, if possible, still more trifling matters
than these, — are foreseen by the seers. A gen-
tleman told Dr. Johnson that, when he had once
gone far from his own island, one of his laboring
servants predicted his return, and described the
livery of his attendants, which he had never worn
at home ; and which had been, without any pre-
vious design, occasionally given him. As many
men eminent for science and literature have ad-
mitted the reality of this apparently useless gift,
we shall, without interposing our own opinion,
give the reflections of two of the first characters
of the age upon it, and leave our readers to form
their own judgment : — By Dr. Beattie it is thus
accounted for. ' The Highlands of Scotland are
a picturesque but a melancholy country. Long
tracts of mountainous desert, covered with dark
heath, and often obscure by misty weather ; nar-
row valleys, thinly inhabited, and bounded by
precipices resounding with the fall of torrents;
a soil so rugged, and a climate so dreary, as in
many parts to admit neither the amusements of
pasturage nor the labors of agriculture; the
mournful dashing of waves along the friths and
lakes that intersect the country ; the portentous
noises which every change of the wind and every
increased diminution of the waters is apt to raise
in a lonely region full of echoes and rocks and
caverns ; the grotesque and ghastly appearance
of such a landscape by the light of the moon :
objects like these diffuse a gloom over the fancy,
which may be compatible enough with occasional
and social merriment, but cannot fail to tincture
the thoughts of a native in the hour of silence
and solitude. If these people, notwithstanding
their reformation in religion and more frequent
intercourse with strangers, do still retain many
of their old superstitions, we need not doubt but
in former times they must have been much more
enslaved to the horrors of imagination, when be-
set with the bugbears of Popery and Paganism.
Most qf their superstitions are of a melancholy
cast.
'That of second sight, by which some are sti)
758
SECOND SIGHT.
gupposed to be haunted, is considered by them-
selves as a misfortune, on account of the many
dreadful images it is said to obtrude upon the
fancy. It is said that some of the Alpine re-
gions do likewise lay claim to a sort of second
sight. Nor is it wonderful that persons of a lively
imagination, immured in deep solitude, and sur-
jounded with the stupendous scenery of clouds,
precipices, and torrents, should dream (even
when they think themselves awake) of those few
striking ideas with which their lonely lives are di-
versified : of corpses, funeral processions, and
other subjects of terror ; or of marriages, and the
arrival of strangers, and such like matters of
more agreeable curiosity. Let it be observed,
also, that the ancient Highlanders of Scotland
had hardly any other way of supporting them-
selves than by hunting, fishing, or war ; profes-
sions that are continually exposed to fatal acci-
dents. And hence, no doubt, additional horrors
would often haunt their solitude, and a deeper
gloom overshadow the imagination even of the
hardiest native. A sufficient evidence can hardly
be found for the reality of the second sight, oral
least of what is commonly understood by that
term. A treatise on the subject was published
in the year 1762, in which many tales were told
of persons whom the author believed to have
been favored, or haunted, with these illumina-
tions ; but most of the tales were trifling and ridi-
culous : and the whole work betrayed, on the
part of the compiler, such extreme credulity, as
could not fail to prejudice many readers against
his system. That any of these visionaries are
apt to be swayed in their declarations by sinister
views we will not say ; but this may be said
with confidence, that none but ignorant people
pretend to be gifted in this way. And in them
it may be nothing more, perhaps, than short fits
of sudden sleep or drowsiness, attended with
lively dreams and arising from some bodily dis-
order, the effect of idleness, low spirits, or a
gloomy imagination. For it is admitted, even
by the most credulous Highlanders, that, as know-
ledge and industry are propagated in their coun-
try, the second sight disappears in proportion ;
and nobody ever laid claim to the faculty who
was much employed in the intercourse of social
life. Nor is it at all extraordinary that one should
have the appearance of being awake, and should
even think one's self so, during those fits of
dosing ; that they should come on suddenly,
and while one is engaged in some business. The
same thing happens to persons much fatigued,
or long kept awake, who frequently fall asleep
for a moment, or for a long space, while they
are standing, or walking, or riding on horseback.
Add but a lively dream to this slumber, and
(which is the frequent effect of disease) take
way the consciousness of having been asleep,
and a superstitious man may easily mistake his
dream for a waking vision ; which, however, is
soon forgotten when no subsequent occurrence
recals it to his memory; but which, if it shall
be thought to resemble any future event, exalts
the poor dreamer into a Highland prophet.
This conceit makes him more recluse and more
melancholy than ever ; and so feeds his disease,
and multiplies his visions which, if they are not
dissipated by business or society, may continu
to haunt him as long as he lives ; and which, in
their progress through the neighbourhood, receive
some new tinctures of the marvellous from every
mouth that promotes their circulation. As to
the prophetical nature of this second sight, it
cannot be admitted at all. That the Deity
should work a miracle in order to give intima-
tion of the frivolous things that these tales are
made up of, the arrival of a stranger, the nailing
of a coffin, or the color of a suit of clothes ; and
that these intimations should be given for no end,
and to those persons only who are idle and soli-
tary, who speak Gaelic, or who live among moun-
tains and deserts — is like nothing in nature or pro-
vidence that we are acquainted with ; and must,
therefore, unless it were confirmed by satisfactory
proof (which is not the case), be rejected as ab-
surd and incredible. These visions, such as they
are, may reasonably enough be ascribed to a dis-
tempered fancy. And that in them, as well as
in our ordinary dreams, certain appearances
should, on some rare occasions, resemble certain
events, is to be expected from the laws of chance ;
and seems to havre in it nothing more marvellous
or supernatural, than that the parrot, who deals
out his scurrilities at random, should sometimes
happen to salute the passenger by his right ap-
pellation.' To the confidence of these objections
Dr. Johnson replies, « that by presuming to deter-
mine what is fit, and what is beneficial, they pre-
suppose more knowledge of the universal system
than man has attained; and therefore depend upon
principles too complicated and extensive for our
comprehension ; that there can be no security in
the consequence when the premises are not under-
stood ; that the second sight is only wonderful
because it is rare, for, considered in itself, it in-
volves no more difficulty than dreams, or perhaps
than the regular exercise of the cogitative faculty ;
that a general opinion of communicative im-
pulses, or visionary representations, has prevailed
in all ages and all nations; that particular in-
stances have been given with such evidence as
neither Bacon nor Bayle have been able to resist;
that sudden impressions, which the event has
verified, have been felt by more than own or pub-
lish them ; that the second sight of the Hebrides
implies only the local frequency of a power,
which is no where totally unknown ; and that,
where we are unable to decide by antecedent
reason, we must be content to yield to the force
of testimony. By pretension to second sight, no
profit was ever sought or gained. It is an in-
voluntary affection, in which neither hope nor
fear is known to have any part. Those who
profess to feel it do not boast of it as a privi-
lege, nor are considered by others as advantage-
ously distinguished. They have no temptation
to feign, and their bearers have no motive to
encourage the imposture.' Dr. Johnson affirms
that the Islanders of all degrees, whether of rank
and understanding, universally admit it, except
the ministers, who, according to him, reject it,
in consequence of a system, against conviction.
He affirms, too, that in 1773 there was in the
Hebrides a second-sighted gentleman, who com-
plained of the terrors to which he was exposed.
SECOND TERMS, in algebra, those where the
SEC
759
SEC
unknown quantity has a degree of power less
than it has in the term where it is raised to the
highest. The art of throwing these second terms
out of an equation, that is, of forming a new
equation where they have no place, is one of the
most ingenious and useful inventions in all al-
gebra.
SECONDARY, or SECUNDARY, an officer who
acts as second or next to the chief officer. Such
are the secondaries of the courts of king's bench
and common pleas; the secondaries, of the
compters, who are next the sheriffs of London
in each of the two compters ; two secondaries of
the pipe ; secondaries to the remembrancers, &c.
SECONDARY CIRCLES OF THE ECLIPTIC are
circles of longitude of the stars ; or circles which,
passing through the poles of the ecliptic, are at
right angles to the ecliptic. See CIRCLES.
SE'CRET, adj., n. s. & v. a.~} Fr. secret ; Lat-
SECRETE', v. a. secretus. Hidden >
SECRE'TION, n. s. private; affording
SECRETIT'IOUS, n. s. privacy; retired;
SE'CRETIST, J^unseen ; faithful
SE'CRETLY, adv. to a secret; oc-
SE'CRETNESS, n. s. cult ; privy : as a
SECRE'TORY, adj. noun substantive,
SE'CRECY, n.s. J something con-
cealed or hidden ; something not yet discovered
or known ; privacy ; seclusion : to secret or se-
crete is to keep private, and the latter (in the
animal economy) to put aside or separate ; to
secern : secretitious follows this sense : a se-
cretist is a dealer in secrets : the adverb and
noun substantive following, as well as secrecy,
correspond with secret as an adjective : secretory
means performing the office of secretion.
The secret things belong unto the Lord our God ;
but those things which are revealed belong unto us.
Deut. xxix. 29.
Bread eaten in secret is pleasant. Prov. ix. 17.
There is no secret that they can hide frora thee.
Ezek. xxviii.
It is not with publick as with private prayer : in
this rather secrecy is commanded than outward shew ;
whereas that, being the publick act of a whole so-
ciety, requireth accordinglyx more care to be had of
external appearance. Hooker.
That's not suddenly to be performed,
But with advice and silent secrecy.
Shakspeare. Henry VI.
In Nature's book of infinite secrecy
A little can I read. Id. Antony and Cleopatra.
Secret Romans, that have spoke the word,
And will not palter. Shakspeare. Julius Ctesar.
Infected minds
To their deaf pillows will discharge their secrets.
Shakspeare.
Give him this letter ; do it secretly. Id.
Great care is to be used of the clerks of the coun-
cil, for the secreting of their consultations.
Bacon's Advice to Villien.
I could muster up
My giants and my witches too,
Which are vast constancy and secretness. Donne.
Thou open'st wisdom's way
And givest access, though secret she retire :
And 1 perhaps am secret. Milton.
The secret top
Of Oreb or of Sinai. Id.
Or sympathy, or some connatural force
1'oweiful at greatest distance to unite
With secret amity things of like kind,
By secreiest conveyance. Id.
We not to explore the secrets ask
Of his eternal empire. Id.
'Thou, in thy secresy, although alone,
Best with thyself accompanied, seek'st not
Social communication. Id. Paradise Lost..
Some things I have not yet thought fit so plainly
to reveal ; not out of any envious design of having
them buried with me, but that I may barter with
those fecretists, that will not part with one secret but
in exchange for another. Boyle.
Those thoughts are not wholly mine ; but either
they are seeretly in the poet, or may be fairly de-
duced from him. Dryden.
All the glands are a congeries of vessels compli-
cated together, whereby they give the blood time to
separate through the capillary vessels into the secre-
tory, which afterwards exonerate themselves into one
duct. Ray.
Secresy and fidelity were their only qualities.
Burnet.
There is no such thing as perfect secresv. to encou-
rage a rational mind to the perpetration of any base
action ; for a man must first extinguish and put out
the great light within him, h's conscience ; he must
get away from himself, and shake off the thousand
witnesses which he always carries about him, before
he can be alone. South'* Sermons,
Now secretly with inward grief he pined ;
Now warm resentments to his griefs he joined.
Addison.
Some may place their chief satisfaction in giving
secretly what is to be distributed ; others in being the
open and avowed instruments of making such distri-
butions. Atterbury.
There secret in her sapphire cell
He with the Nals wont to dwell. Fenton.
All secrets of the deep, all nature's works.
Milton.
The Romans seem not to have known the secret of
paper credit. Arbuthnot.
They have a similitude or contrariety to the secre-
titious humours in taste and quality.
Floyer on the Humours.
SEC'RETARY, n. s. Fr. secretaire; low
Lat. secretariat. One entrusted with the ma-
nagement of business ; one who writes for ano-
ther.
Call Gardiner to me, my new secretary.
Shakspeare.
That which is most of all profitable is, acquaint-
ance with the secretaries, and employed men of am-
bassadors. Bacon.
Cottington was secretary to the prince.
Clarendon.
SECRETARY, in ornithology, the falco serpen-
tarius and Sagittarius of Linnaeus, but classed by
Latham under the genus vultur. See FALCO
and VULTUR.
A SECRETARY, in a public office, is an officer
who, by his master's orders, writes letters, de-
spatches, and other instruments, which he renders
authentic by his signet. Of these there are seve-
ral kinds : as secretaries of state, or officers that
have under their management and direction the
most important affairs of the kingdom, and are
obliged constantly to attend on the king : they
receive and despatch whatever comes to their
hands, either from the crown, the church, the
army, private grants, pardons, dispensations, Sec.,
as likewise petitions to the sovereign, which,
when read, are returned to them ; all which they
760
SEC T O R.
despatch according to the king's direction.
They hare authority to commit persons for trea-
son, and other offences against the state, as con-
servators of the peace at common law, or as
Justices of the peace throughout the kingdom.
They are members of the privy council, which
is seldom or never held without one of them be-
ing present. As to the business and correspond-
ence in all parts of this kingdom, it is managed
by either of the secretaries without any distinc-
tion ; but, with respect to foreign affairs, the bu-
siness is divided into two provinces or depart-
ments, the southern and the northern, compre-
hending all the kingdoms and states that have
any intercourse with Great Britain ; each secre-
tary receiving all letters and addresses from, and
making all despatches to, the several princes and
states comprehended in his province.
SECT, n. s. ~\ Fr. sttcte ; Lat. sccta, from
SEC'TARISM, fteeUmdo. A body of men fol-
SEC'TARY, i lowing some particular master,
SECTA'TOR. J or united in some settled
tenets. Often in a bad sense : sectarism is dis-
position to party : a sectary is one who joins a
party, or indulges a party spirit : sectator, an
obsolete word for a follower or imitator.
The sectaries of my celestial skill,
That wont to be the world's chief ornament,
They are under keep. Spenser.
We'll wear out,
In a wall'd prison, packs, and sects of great ones,
That ebb and flow by the moon.
Shakspeare. King Lear.
Of out unbilled lusls, I lake this lhat you call
love to be a sect or cion. Id. Othello.
My lord, you are a sectary ;
Thai's ihe plain truth. Shakspeare.
Hereof the wiser sort and the best learned philo-
sophers were not ignorant, as Cicero witnesseth,
gathering the opinion of Aristotle and his sectuton.
Kaleigh.
Romish catholick tenets are inconsistent, on ihe
one hand, with the trulh of religion professed and
protested hy the church of England, whence we are
called protestanis ; and the anabaptists, and sepa-
ratists, and tectaries, on the other hand, whose tenets
are full of schism, and inconsistent with monarchy.
Bacon.
The greatest vicissitude of things is the vicissi-
tude of lecii and religion ; the true religion is built
upon a rock ; the rest are tossed upon the waves of
time. Id. Essays.
Nothing has more marks of schism and sectarism
than this presbyterian way. K'nig Charles.
The jealous sects lhal dare nol trusl iheir cause
So far from Iheir own will as to the laws,
You for their umpire and their synod take.
Dry den,
A sect of freethinkers is a sum of cyphers.
Bent li'i/.
I'liu number of sectaries doos not concern the
clergy in poinl of interest or conscience. Snij't.
SECTION, ». s. Fr. section ; Lat. sn-/io.
The act of cutting or dividing ; the part cut off.
Instead of their law, which they mi»ht not read
openly, they read of the prophets, lhat which in like-
ness of mailer came nearest lo each section of their
law. /.„„-.
In the section of bodies, man, of all sensible
es, has the fullest brain to liis '»• .portion.
The production of volatile salts I reserve till I
mention them in another section. Boi/le.
Without breaking in upon the connection of his.
language, it is hardly possible to give a distinct view
of his several arguments in distinct sections. Locke.
SECTION, in general, denotes a part of a di-
vided thing, or the division itself. Such, parti-
cularly, are the subdivisions of a chapter; called
also paragraphs and articles : the mark of a sec-
tion is §.
SECTION, in geometry, denotes a side or surface
of a body or figure cut off by another ; or the
place where lines, planes, &c., cut each other.
SECTIONS, CONIC. See CONIC SECTIONS.
SECTOR, 71. s. Fr. secteur. In geometry.
Sector is an instrument made of wood or metal,
with a joint, and sometimes a piece to turn out t&
make a Irue square, wilh lines of sines, langenls,
secanls, equal parts, rhumbs, polygons, hours, lati-
tudes, metals, and solids. It is generally useful in
all the practical parts of the mathemalicks, and par-
ticularly contrived for navigation, surveying, astro-
nomy, dialling, and projeclion of ihe sphere. All
the lines of the sector can be accommodated to any
radius, winch is done by taking off all divisions pa-
rallelwise, and not lengthwise ; the ground of which
practice is this, that parallels to the base of any
plain triangle bear the same proportion to it as the
parts of the legs above the parallel do to the whole
legs. Harris.
SECTOR, in geometry, is a part of a circle com-
prehended between two radii and the arch ; or it
is a mixed triangle, formed by two radii and the
arch of a circle.
SECTOR OF AN ELLIPSE, or OF AN HYPERBOLA,
&c., is a part resembling the circular sector, being
contained by three lines, two of which are radii,
or lines drawn from the centre of the figure to-
the curve, and the intercepted arc or part of that
curve.
SECTOR OF A SPHERE is the solid generated
by the revolution of the sector of a circle about
one of its radii ; the other radius describing the
surface of a cone, and the circular arc a circu-
lar portion of the surface of the sphere of the
same radius. So that the spherical sector consists
of a right cone, and of a segment of a sphere
having the same common base with the cone.
And hence the solid content of it will be found
by multiplying the base or spherical surface by
the radius of the sphere, and taking a third part
of the product.
SECTOR is also a mathematical instrument of
great use in finding the proportion oetween quan-
tities of the same kind : as between lines and
lines, surfaces and surfaces, &c.; whence the
French call it the compass of proportion. The
great advantage of the sector above the common
scales, &c., is, that it is made so as to fit all radii
and all scales. By the lines of chords, sine?
&c., on the sector, we have lines of chords, sines,
&c., to any radius betwixt the length and breadth
of the sector when open. The real inventor of
this valuable instrument is unknown ; yet of so
much merit has the invention appeared that il
was claimed by Galileo, and disputed hy nations.
The sector is founded on the fourth proposition
of the sixth book of Euclid ; where il is demon-
strated that similar triangles have their homo
i sides proportional. An idea of the theory
SECTOR.
761
of its construction may be thus conceived : — Let
the "lines A B, AC (plate SECTOR, &c.), represent
the legs of the sector ; and A D and A E two equal
sections from the centre : if now the points C B
and D E be connected, the lines C B and D E
will be parallel ; therefore the triangles A D E
A C B will be similar ; and consequently the
sides AD, D E, A B, and B C, proportional ;
that is, as AD: DE:: AB: BC; whence, if
A D be the half, third, or fourth part of A B,
D E will be a half, third, or fourth part of C B ;
and the same holds of all the rest. If, therefore,
A D be the chord, sine or tangent, of any number
of degrees to the radius AB; D E will be the
same to the radius B C.
The instrument (fig. 3, 4), consists of two ru-
lers or legs, of brass or ivory, or any other mat-
ter, representing the radii, moveable round an
axis or joint, the middle of which expresses the
centre : whence are drawn on the faces of the
rulers several scales, which may be distinguished
into single and double. The double scales or
lines graduated upon the faces of the instrument,
and which are to be used as sectoral lines, pro-
ceed from the centre; and are, 1. Two scales of
equal parts, one on each leg, marked LIN. or L. ;
each of these scales, from the great extensive-
ness of its use, is called the line of lines. 2.
Two lines of chords marked CHO. or c. 3. Tuo
lines of secants marked SEC. or s. A line of poly-
gons marked POL. Upon the .other face the sec-
toral lines are, 1. Two lines of sines marked
SIN. or s. 2. Two lines of tangents marked TAN.
or T. 3. Between the line of tangents and sines
there is another line of tangents to a lesser radius,
to supply the defect of the former, and extend-
ing from 45° to 75°, marked t. Each pair of
these lines (except the line of polygons) is so
adjusted as to make equal angles at the centre;
and consequently, at whatever distance the sector
be opened, the angles will be always respec-
tively equal. That is, the distance between 10
and 10, on the line of lines, will be equal to 60
and 60 on the line of chords, 90 and 90 on the
line of sines, and 45 and 45 on the line of tan-
gents. Besides the sectoral scales, there are
others on each face, placed parallel to the out-
ward edges, and used as those of the common
plane scale. These are 1. A line of inches. 2.
A line of latitudes. 3. A line of hours. 4. A
line of inclination of meridians. 5. A line of
chords. Three logarithmic scales, namely, one
of numbers, one of sines, and one of tangents ;
these are used when the sector is fully opened,
the legs forming one line. The value of the di-
visions on most of the lines is determined by
the figures adjacent to them ; these proceed
by tens, which constitute the divisions of the first
order and are numbered accordingly ; but the
value of the divisions of the line of lines, that
are distinguished by figures, is entirely arbitrary,
and may represent any value that is given to
them ; hence the figures 1, 2, 3, 4, &c., may de-
note either 10, 20, 30, 40, or 100, 200, 300, 400,
and so on. The line of lines is divided into ten
equal parts, numbered 1, 2, 3, to 10; these may
be called divisions of the first order; each of
these is again subdivided into ten other equal
parts, which may be called divisions of the second
order ; each of these is divided into two equal
parts, forming divisions of the third order. The
divisions on all the scales are contained between
four parallel lines ; those of the third order ex-
tend to the most distant ; those of the third to
the least ; those of the second to the intermediate
parallel. When th'e whole line of lines repre-
sents 100, the divisions of the first order, or
those to which the figures are annexed, repiesent
tens ; those of the secon'd order units ; those of
the third order the halves of these units. If the
whole line represent ten, then the divisions of
the first order are units; those of the second
tenths ; the third twentieths. In the line of tan-
gents, the divisions to which the numbers are
affixed are the degrees expressed by those num-
bers. Every fifth degree is denoted by a line
somewhat longer than the rest; between every
number and each fifth degree there are four
divisions, longer than the intermediate adjacent
ones : these are whole degrees ; the shorter ones,
or those of the third order, are thirty minutes.
From the centre to 60° the line of sines is di-
vided like the line of tangents, from 60 to 70;
it is divided only to every degree, from 70 to 80,
to every two degrees, from 80 to 90 : the divi-
sion must be estimated by the eye. The divi-
sions on the line of chords are to be estimated
in the same manner as the tangents. The lesser
line of tangents is graduated every two degrees,
from 45 to 50 ; but from 50 to 60 to every de-
gree; from 60 to the end to half degrees. The
line of secants from 0 to 10 is to be estimated by
the eye ; from 20 to 50 it is divided into every
two degrees ; from 50 to 60 to every degree ;
from 60 to the end to every half degree.
1 . To open the sector so as the two lines of
chords may make an angle or number of degrees,
suppose 40. Take the distance from the joint
to 40, the number of the degrees proposed, on
the line of chords: open the sector till the dis-
tance from 40 to 60 on each leg be equal to the
given distance of 40 ; then will the two lines on
the sector form an angle of 40°, as was required.
2. The sector being opened, to find the degrees
of its aperture. Take the extent from 60 to 60,
and lay it off on the line of chords from the
centre; the number whereon it terminates will
show the degrees, &c., required. 3. To lay off
any number of degrees upon the circumference
of a circle. Open the sector till the distance
between 60 and 60 be equal to the radius of the
given circle ; then take the parallel extent of the
chord of the number of degrees on each leg of
the sector, and lay it o.T on the circumference of
the given circle. Hence any regular polygoi-
may be easily inscribed in a given circle.
1. To divide a given line into any number of
equal parts, suppose seven. Take the given line
in your compasses ; and setting one foot in a
division of equal parts, that may be divided by
7, for example 70, whose seventh part is 10,
open the sector till the other point fall exactly
on 70, in the same line on the other leg. In this
disposition, applying one point of the compasses
to 10 in the same line, shut them till the other
rail in 10 in the same line on the other leg, and
this opening will be the seventh part of the given
line. Note, if the line to be divided be too long
to be applied to the leirs of the sector, divide
only one-half or one-fourth by seven, and the
762
SECTOR.
double or quadruple thereof will be the seventh
part of the whole. 2. To measure the lines of the
perimeter of a polygon, one of which contains a
given number of equal parts. Take the given line
in your compasses, and set it parallel, upon the
line of equal parts, to the number on each leg ex-
pressing its length. The sector remaining thus,
set off the length of each of the other lines parallel
to the former, and the number each of them falls
on will express its length. 3. A right line being
given, and the number of parts it contains, sup-
pose. 120, to take from it a shorter line contain-
ing any number of the same parts, suppose 25.
Take the given line in your compasses, open the
sector till the two feet fall on 120 on each leg ;
then will the distance between 25 on one leg, and
the same number on the other, give the line re-
quired. 4. To multiply by the line of equal parts
on the sector. Take the lateral distance from the
centre of the line to the given multiplicator;
open the sector till you fit that lateral distance to
the parallel of 1 and 1, or 10 and 10, and keep
the sector in that disposition; then take in the
compasses the parallel distance of the multipli-
cand, which distance, measured laterally on the
same line, will give the product required. Thus,
suppose it were required to find the product of 8
multiplied by 4 : take the lateral distance from the
centre of the line to 4 in your com passes, i. e. place
one foot of the compasses in the beginning of the
divisions, and extend the other along the line to
4. Open the sector till you fit this lateral distance
to the parallel of 1 and 1, or 10 and 10. Then
take the parallel distance of 8, the multiplicand ;
i. e. extend the compasses from 8, in this line, on
one leg, to 8 in the same line on the other ; and
that extent, measured laterally, will give the pro-
duct required. 5. To divide by the line of equal
parts on the sector. Extend the compasses late-
rally from the beginning of the line to 1, and open
the sector till you fit that extent to the parallel of
the divisor ; then take the parallel distance of the
dividend ; which extent, measured in a lateral di-
rection, will give the quotient required. Thus, sup-
pose it were required to divide 36 by 4 ; extend
the compasses laterally, the beginning of the line
to 1, and fit to that extent the" parallel of 4, the
divisor ; then extend the compasses parallel from
36 on one leg to 36 on the other, and that extent,
measured laterally, will give 9, the quotient re-
quired. 6. Proportion by the line of equal
parts. Make the lateral distance of the second
term the parallel distance of the first term ; the pa-
rallel distance of the third term is the fourth pro-
portional. Example. — To find a fourth propor-
tional to 8, 4, and 6, take the lateral distance of
4, and make it the parallel distance of 8 ; then the
parallel distance of 6, extended from the centre,
shall reach to the fourth proportional 3. In the
same manner, a third proportional is found to
two numbers. Thus, to fina a third proportional
to 8 and 4, the ?ector remaining as in the former
example, the parallel distance of 4, extended
from the centre, shall reach to the third propor-
tional 2. In all these cases, if the number to be
made a parallel distance be too great for the sec-
tor, some aliquot part of it is to be taken, and
»he answer is to be multiplied by the number by
which the first number was divided.
1. To inscribe a regular polygon in a given
circle. Take the semidiameter of the given cir-
cle in the compasses, and adjust it to the num-
ber 6, on the line of polygons, on each ley of the
sector ; then, the sector remaining thus opened,
take the distance of the two equal numbers, ex-
pressing the number of sides the polygon is to
have ; e. gr. the distance from 5 to 5 for a penta-
gon, from 7 to 7 for a heptagon, &c. These dis-
tances, carried about the circumference of the
circle, will divide it into so many equal parts.
2. To describe a regular polygon, e. gr. a penta-
gon, on a given right line. Take the length of
the line in the compasses, and apply it to the ex-
tent of the number 5, 5, on the lines of polygons.
The sector thus opened, upon the same lines take
the extent from 6 to 6 ; this will be the semidia-
meter of the circle the polygon is to be inscribed
in. If then, with this distance from the ends ot
of the given line, you describe two arches of a
circle, their intersection will be the centre of the
circle. 3. On a right line, to describe an isos-
celes triangle, having the angles at the base double
that at the vertex. Open the sector, till the ends
of the given line fall on 10 and 10 on each leg ;
then take the distance from 6 to 6. This will be
the length of the two equal sides of the triangle.
By the several lines disposed on the sector,
we have scales to several radii ; so that, having
a length or radius given, not exceeding the length
of the sector when opened, we find the chord,
sine, &c., thereto : e. gr. Suppose the chord,
sine, or tangent, of 10°, to a radius of three inches
required ; make three inches the aperture, between
60 and 60, on the lines of chords of the two legs ;
then will the same extent reach from 45 to 45 on
the line of tangents, and from 90 to 90 on the
line of the sines on the other side; so that to
whatever radius the line of chords is set, to the
same are all the others set. In this disposition,
therefore, if the aperture between 10 and 10, on
the lines of chords, be taken with the compasses,
it will give the chord of 10°. If the aperture of
10 and 10 be in like manner taken on the lines
of sines, it will be the sine of 10°. Lastly, if
the aperture of 10 and 10 be in like manner taken
on the lines of tangents, it gives the tangent of
10°. If the chord, or tangent, of 70° were re-
quired ; for the chord, the aperture of half the
arch, viz. 35, must be taken, as before ; which
distance, repeated twice, gives the chord of 70°.
To find the tangent of 70° to the same radius,
the small line of tangents must be used, the other
only reaching to 45 ; making, therefore, three
inches the aperture between 45 and 45 on the
small line ; the extent between 70 and 70° on the
same, will be the tangent of 70° to three inches
radius. To find the secant of an arch, make the
given radius the aperture between 0 and 0 on the
lines of secants ; then will the aperture of 10
and 10, or 70 and 70, on the said lines, give the
tangent of 10° or 70°. If the converse of any of
these things were required, that is, if the radius
be required, to which a given line is the sine, tan-
gent, or secant, it is but making the given line,
if a chord, the aperture on the line of chords, be-
tween 10 and 10, and then the sector will stand
at the radius required ; that is, the aperture be-
tween 60 and 60 on the said line is the radius
SEC
763
SEC
If tne given line were a sine, tangent, or secant,
it is but the making 't the aperture of the given
number of degrees , then will the distance of 90
and 90 on the sines, of 45 and 45 on the tangents,
of 0 and 0 on the secants, be the radius.
SEC'ULAR, adj. I Fr. seculier ; Lat. secu-
SEC'ULARLY, adv. S larit. Not spiritual ; re-
lating to affairs of the present world ; worldly :
in the Romish church not bound by monastic
rule.
This, in every several man's actions of common
life, appertained unto moral, in publick and poli-
tick tecular affairs, unto civil wisdom. Hooker.
Then shall they seek to avail themselves of names,
Places, and titles ; and with these to join
Secular po»rer, though feigning still to act
By spiritual. Milton's Paradise Lost.
Those northern nations easily embraced the reli-
gion of those they subdued, and by their devotion
gave great authority and reverence, and thereby ease,
to the clergy, both secular and regular. Temple.
Littleness and secularly of spirit is the greatest
enemy to contemplation.
Burnet's Theory of the Earth.
In] France vast numbers of ecclesiasticks, tecular
and religious, live upon the labours of others.
Addison.
The secular year was kept but once in a century.
Id.
SECULAR is peculiarly used for a person who
lives at liberty in the world, not shut up in a
monastery, in which sense it stands opposed to
regular. The Romish clergy are divided into se-
cular and regular, of which the latter are bound
by monastic rules, the former not.
SECULAR GAMES, in antiquity, were solemn
games held among the Romans once in an age.
These games lasted three days and as many
nights; during which time sacrifices were per-
formed, theatrical shows exhibited, with com-
bats, sports, &c., in the circus. The occasion of
these games, according to Valerius Maximus, was
to stop the progress of a plague. Valerius Publi-
cola was the first who celebrated them at Rome,
A. U. C. 245. The solemnity was as follows : —
The whole world were invited by a herald to a feast
which they had never seen already, nor ever
should see again. Some days before the games
began, the quindecemviri, in the capitol and the
Palatine temple, distributed to the people puri-
fying compositions, of various kinds, as flam-
beaux, sulphur, &c. From hence the populace
passed to Diana's temple on the Aventine Mount,
with wheat, 'barley, and oats, as an offering. Af-
ter this, whole nights were spent in devotion to
the Destinies. When the time of the games was
fully come, the people assembled in the Campus
Martius, and sacrificed to Jupiter, Juno, Apollo,
Latona, Diana, the Parcae, Ceres, Pluto, and
Proserpine. On the first night of the feast the
emperor, with the quindecemviri, caused three
altars to be erected on the banks of the Tiber,
which they sprinkled with the blood of three
lambs, and then proceeded to regular sacrifice.
A space was next marked out for a theatre, which
was illuminated with innumerable flambeaux
and fires. Here they sung hymns, and celebrated
all kinds of sports. On the clay after, having
offered victims at the capitol, they went into the
Campus Martius, and celebrated sports »o the
honor of Apollo and Diana. These lasted till the
next day, when the noble matrons, at the hour
appointed by the oracle, went to the capitol to
sing hymns to Jupiter. On the third day, which
concluded the solemnity, twenty-seven boys and
as many girls sung in the temple of Palatine
Apollo hymns and verses in Greek and Latin, to
recommend the city to the protection of those
deities whom they designed particularly to honor
by their sacrifices. The inimitable carmen secu-
lare of Horace was composed for this last day in
the secular games, held by Augustus^ It has been
much disputed whether these games were held
every 100, or every 110 years. Valerius Antius,
Varro, and Livy, are quoted in support of the for-
mer opinion ; in favor of the latter may be pro-
duced the quindecemviral registers, the edicts of
Augustus, and the words of Horace in the secular
poem, ccetus undenos decies per annos. It was a
general belief that the girls who bore a part in
the song should be soonest married ; and that
the children who did not dance and sing at the
coming of Apollo, should die unmarried, and at
an early period of life.
SECULAR POEM, a poem sung or rehearsed at
the secular games ; of which kind we have a very
fine piece among the works of Horace, being a
sapphic ode at the end of his epodes.
SECULARIZATION, the act of converting a
regular person, place, or benefice, into a secular
one. Almost all the cathedral churches were an-
ciently regular; that is, the canons were to be
religious ; but they have been since secularized.
For the secularization of a regular church, there
is required the authority of the pope, that of the
prince, the bishop of the place, the patron, and
even the consent of the people. Religious that
want to be released from their vow, obtain briefs
of secularization from the pope.
SEC'UNDINE, n. s. Yr.secondines, secondes ;
Lat. secundtf, viz. partes, quod nascentem infantem
sequantur. Ainsworth. The membrane in
which the embryo is wrapped ; the after birth.
The casting of the skin is by the ancients com-
pared to the breaking of the tecundine, or cawl, but
not rightly ; for the secundine is but a general cover,
uot shaped according to the parts, but the skin is.
Bacon's Natural History.
Future ages lie
Wrapped in their sacred secvndine a sleep. Cowley.
If the foetus-be taken out of the womb inclosed in
the secundines, it will continue to live, and the blood
to circulate. Ray.
SECUNDINES, in anatomy, are the chorion and
amnios, with the placenta, &c. See ANATOMT
and MIDWIFERY.
SECUNDREPORE, the name of two towns
in Hindostan, one in the province of Ajmeer,
district of Jyepore ; the other in the province of
Allahabad, district of Gazypoor.
SECUNDUS (Julius), a Roman orator, who
flourished under Titus Vespasian, and published
Orations, &c.
SECUNDUS (Nicholas Everard), a descendant of
an ancient and honorable family in the Nether-
lands, was born in the neighbourhood of Mid-
dleburgh, and was jn high favor with the empe-
ror Charles V., haujng been employed by tliat
monarch in several stations of considerable im-
764
SECUNDUS.
portance. He was first a member of the grand
parliament or council of Mechlin ; afterwards
president of the states of Holland and Zealand
at the Hague; and, lastly, held a similar office
at Mechlin, where he died, August 5th, 1532,
aged seventy. These various employments did
not occupy the whole of Everard's time. Not-
withstanding the multiplicity of his business, he
found leisure to cultivate letters with great suc-
cess, and even to act as preceptor to his own
children, who were five sons and three daughters,
and all took the name of Nicholas from their
father.
SECUNDUS (Joannes Nicolaus, or John Nicho-
las), youngest son of the preceding, improved
the education given him by his father, and be-
came a most eminent writer of Latin poetry.
Poetry, however, was by no means the profes-
sion which his father wished him to follow. He
intended him for the law, and, when he could
no longer direct his studies himself, placed him
under the care of Jacobus Valeardus. This man
is said to have been every way well qualified to
discharge the important trust which was com-
mitted to him ; and he certainly gained the af-
fection of his pupil, who, in one of his poems,
mentions the death of Valeardus with every
appearance of unfeigned sorrow. Another tutor
was provided, but the law did not suit Secun-
dtis. Poetry, painting, and sculpture, had en-
gaged his mind at a very early period. Secundus
wrote verses when only ten years old ; and, from
}he vast quantity which he left behind him, such
writing was evidently his principal employment.
He found time, however, to carve figures of all
his own family, of his mistresses, of the emperor
Charles V., of several eminent personages of
those times, and of many of his intimate friends ;
and in the last edition of his works, published by
Scriverius at Leyden, 1631, there is a print
of one of his mistresses, with this inscription
round it, VATIS AMATORIS JULIA SCULPTA MANT.
Secundus having nearly attained the age of
twenty-one, and .being determined to comply
with the wishes of his father, quitted Mechlin,
and went to France, where at Bourges he studied
the civil law under the celebrated Andreas Al-
ciatus. Alciatus was one of the most learned
civilians of that age. But what endeared him
most to our author was his acquaintance with
literature and his taste in poetry. Having studied
a year under this eminent professor, and taken
his degrees, Secundus returned to Mechlin,
where he remained a few months. In 1533 he
went into Spain, with warm recommendations
to the count of Nassau and other persons ofhigh
rank ; and soon afterwards became secretary to
the cardinal archbishop of Toledo, in a deoart-
ment of business which required a facility in
writing with elegance the Latin language. Dur-
ing his residence with this cardinal, he wrote his
Basia, a series of wanton poems, of which the
fifth, seventh, and ninth carmina of Catullus
seem to have given the hint. Secundus was not,
however, a servile imitator of Catullus. His
expressions seem to have been borrowed rather
from Tibullus and Propertius ; and, in the warmth
of his descriptions, he surpasses every thing that
has been written on similar subjects by Catullus,
Tibullus, Propertius, C. Callus, Ovid, or even
Horace. In 1535 he accompanied Charles \ .
to the siege of Tunis, but gained no laurel as a
soldier. The hardships of that memorable sie«e
were little suited to the disposition of a votary
of Venus and the Muses ; and, upon an enter-
prise which might have furnished ample matter
for an epic poem, it is remarkable that Secundus
wrote nothing worthy of preservation. Having
returned from his martial expedition, he was
sent by the cardinal to Rome to congratulate
the pope upon the success of the emperor's arms ;
but was taken so ill OH the road that he was not
able to complete his journey. He was advised
to seek the benefit ef his native air ; and that
happily recovered him. Having quitted the ser-
vice of the cardinal, he was employed in the
same office by the bishop of Utrecht; and so
great was his fame for classical elegance that he
was called upon to fill the post of private Latin
secretary to the emperor, who was then in Italv ;
but, before he could enter upon it, death put a
stop to his career of glory. Having arrived at
St. Amand, to meet with the bishop of Utrecht,
he was on the 8th of October, 1536, cut off by a
violent fever, in his twenty-fifth year. He was
interred in the church of the Benedictines, of
which his patron, the bishop, was abbot ; and his
relations erected to his memory a marble monu-
ment, with a Latin inscription. His works have
gone through several editions, of which the best
and most copious is that of Scriverius. It con-
sists of Julia, Eleg. lib. i. ; Amores, Eleg. lib.
ii. ; ad Diversos, Eleg. lib. iii. ; Basia, styled
by the editor incomparabilis et divinus prorsus
liber ; Epigrammata ; Odarum liber unus ; Epis-
tolarum liber unus Elegiaca ; Epistolarum liber
alter, heroico carmine scriptus ; Funerum liber
unus ; Sylvae et Carminum fragmenta ; -Poemata
nonnulla fratrum; Itineraria Secundi Tria, &c.;
Epistolae totidem, soluta oratione. To these
works ample testimonies are prefixed by Lelius,
Gregory Gyraldus, the elder Scaliger, Theodore
Beza, and others, who all speak of them with
rapture. A French critic, indeed, after having
affirmed that the genius -of Secundus never pro-
duced any thing which was not excellent 'in its
kind, adds, with too much truth, ' Mais sa muse
est un peu trop lascive.' For this fault our au
thor makes an apology in a Latin epigram ad-
dressed to the grammarians ; but, as the poet
observes, —
Immodest words admit of no defence,
For want of decency is want of sense.
SECURE/, adj. & v. a.~\ Lat. secants. Free
SECURF/LY, adv. (from fear; exempt
SECURE'MENT, n. s. £ from, terror; easy;
SECU'KITY. J assured ; confident ;
careless; the derivatives corresponding.
(Jideon smote the host, for the host were secure.
Judges.
When they had taken security of Jason, they let
them go. Acts xvii. 9.
Love, that now long time securely slept
In Venus lap, unarmed then and naked,
'CJan rear his head, by Clotho being waked.
Speruer.
There is scarcely truth enough alive to make socie-
ties >ecure • but security enough to make fellowships
accurst. ±>haks.peart.
SEC
765
SED
Tis done, like Hector, but tecurely done,
A little proudly, and great deal misprising
The knight opposed.
Shukspeare. Troilus and Cressida.
How senseless then and dead a soul hath he
Which thinks his soul doth with his body die ;
Or thinks not so, but so would have it be,
That he might sin with more security ! Davies.
Marvellous security is always dangerous, when men
will not believe any bees to be in a hive, until t':ey
have a sharp sense of their stings. Hayward.
Confidence then bore thee on secure
To meet no danger. Milton.
Haply too secure of our discharge
From penalty. Id.
Nothing left
That might his happy state secure. Id.
His daring foe tecurely him defied. Id.
They, like Judas, desire death ; Cain, on the con-
trary, grew afraid thereof, and obtained securement
from it. Browne's Vulgar Errours.
If the providence of God be taken away, what se-
curity have we against those innumerable dangers to
which human nature is continually exposed ?
Tiltotson.
But thou, secure of soul, unbent with woes,
The more thy fortune frowns, the more oppose.
Dri/den.
I spread a cloud before the victor's sight,
Sustained the vanquished, and secured his flight ;
Even then secured him, when I sought with joy
The vowed destruction of ungrateful Troy. Id.
Secure from fortune's blows,
Secure of what I cannot lose,
In my small pinnace I can sail. Id. Horace.
A soul that can securely death defy,
And count it nature's privilege to die. Id. Juvenal.
Actions have their preference, not according to the
transient pleasure or pain that accompanies or follows
them here, but as they serve to secure that perfect
durable happiness hereafter. Locke.
Deeper to wound, she shuns the fight ;
She drops her arms to gain the field :
Secures her conquest by her flight,
And triumphs when she seems to yield. Prior.
It concerns the most secure of his strength, to pray
to God not to expose him to an enemy. Rogers.
The portion of their wealth they design for the
uses of the poor, they may throw into one of these
publick repositories, secure that it will be well em-
ployed. Atterbury.
We live and act as if we were perfectly secure of
the final event of things, however we may behave
ourselves. Id.
Whether any of the reasonings are inconsistent, I
securely leave to the judgment of the reader. Id.
The Romans do not seem to have known the secret
of paper credit, and securities upon mortgages.
Id. on Coins.
It is possible for a man, who hath the appearance
of religion, to be wicked and an hypocrite ; but it is
impossible for a man who openly declares against
religion to give any reasonable security that he will
not be false and cruel. Swift.
Exchequei bills have been generally reckoned the
surest and most sacred of all securities. Id. Examiner.
Some, who gave their advice for entering into a
war, alledged that we should have no security for our
trade while Spain was subject to a prince of the
Bourbon family. Id.
Nothing can be more artful than the address of
Ulysses : he secures himself of a powerful advocate,
by paying an ingenuous and laudable deference to
his friend. Broome.
Where two or three sciences are pursued at the
same time, if one of them be dry, as logick, let
another be more entertaining, to secure the mind
from weariness. Watts.
SECUTO11ES, a species of gladiators among
the Romans, whose arms were a helmet, a shield,
and a sword or a leaden bullet. They were
armed in this manner, because they had to con-
tend with the retiarii, who were dressed in a
short tunic, bore a three-pointed lance in their
left hand, and a net in their right. The retiarius
attempted to cast his net over the head of the se-
cutor; and, if he succeeded, he drew it together
and slew him with his trident ; but, if he missed
his aim, he immediately betook himself to flight
till he could find a second opportunity of en-
tangling his adversary with his net. He was
pursued by the secutor in his flight.
SEDAN', n. s. 1 believe because first made
at Sedan. — Johnson. A kind of portable coach ;
a chair.
Some beg for absent persons, feign them sick,
Close mewed in their sedans for want of air,
And for their wives produce an empty chair.
Dryden.
By a tax of Cato's it was provided that women's
wearing cloaths, ornament, and sedan, exceeding
121/. 1*. lOd. halfpenny, should pay 30*. in the
•hundred pound value. Arbuthno'
SEDAN, a considerable town of France, in the
department of the Ardennes, situated on the
right bank of the Meuse, and strongly fortified,
partly by Vauban. The old castle, in which
Turenne was born, is now converted into a fine
arsenal. The town is divided into Upper and
Lower, and is very uneven and irregular, but not
ill-built. Sedan has been long noted for its ma-
nufactures of superfine woollens, of fire-arms
and copper articles ; it has likewise a cannon
foundry. It was formerly the seat of a Protes-
tant university. Inhabitants 11,000. Thirty-
seven miles south-east of Charlemont, and 170
north-east of Paris. Long. 4 57 50' E., lat. 49
42 29' N.
SEDATE', adj. i Lat. sedatus. Calm ;
SED ATE' LY, adv. > quiet ; still ; unruffled ; un-
SEDATE'NESS,n.s. j disturbed : the adverb and
noun substantive corresponding.
With countenance calm and soul sedate,
Thus Turnus. Dryden's JEneid.
That has most weight with them that appears te-
dately to come from their parents' reason. Locke.
There is a particular sedateness in their conversa-
tion and behaviour that qualifies them for council,
with a great intrepidity that fits them for action.
Addison on the War.
Disputation carries away the mind from that calm
and sedate temper which is so necessary to contem-
plate truth. Watts.
SEDATIVES, in medicine, a general name for
such medicines as weaken the powers of nature,
such as blood-letting, cooling salts, purgatives,
&c.
SEDATIVES, in the new system of medicine,
are denied to have any existence. Opium was
long considered by physicians as a sedative, be-
cause it allays pain, and induces sleep, &c., but
its first and chief effect is highly stimulant, and
these are only the consequences of the indirect
debility that arises in the body, when the stimu-
lant effect is gone off (see OPIUM), as is the case
in excess of wine, spirits, and all other intoxicat-
SED
766
SED
ing liquors. In short, the late Dr. Brown and
his followers, insist, that what have hitherto been
reckoned sedative powers are only inferior de-
grees of stimuli, and that no direct sedatives, as
such, exist in nature.
SEDATIVE SALT, in the old system of chemis-
try, borax, now called boracic acid.
SE DEFENDENDO, in law, a plea used for
him that is charged with the death of another,
by alleging that he was under a necessity of doing
what he did in his own defence : as that the
other assaulted him in such a manner that, if he
had not done what he did, he must have been in
hazard of his own life. See HOMICIDE and
MURDER.
SEDENTARY, adj. Fr. sedentaire ; Ital.
sedentario ; Lat. sedentarita, of sedeo. Passed in
sitting still ; wanting motion or action.
A tedeiitaryhfe, appropriate to all students, crushes
the bowels ; and, for want of stirring the body, suf-
fers the spirits to lie dormant.
Harvey on Consumptions.
The sedentary earth,
That better might with far less compass move,
Served by more noble than herself, attains
Her end without least motion. Milton.
Till length of years,
And tedentary numbness, craze ray limbs
To a contemptible old age obscure. Id. Agonistet.
The soul, considered abstractedly from its passions,
is of a remiss sedentary nature, slow in its resolves,
and languishing in its executions.
Additon't Spectator.
The blood of labouring people is more dense and
heavy than those who live a sedentary life.
Arbuthnot.
SEDGE, n.s. \ Sax. r*cj. A growth of
SED'GY, adj. } narrow flags ; a narrow flag.
He hid himself in the sedges adjoining. Sandys.
Adonis, painted by a running brook,
And Cytherea all in ted get hid ;
U hich seem to move and wanton with her breath,
Kven as the waving tedge* play with wind.
Shaiapeare.
On the gentle Severn's sedgy bank,
In single opposition, hand to hand,
He did confound the best part of an hour,
In changing hardiment with great Glendower.
Id. Henry IV.
In hotter countries a fly called lucciole, that
shineth as the glowworm, is chiefly upon fens and
marshes ; yet is not seen but in the height of sum-
mer, and sedge or other green of the fens gives as
good shade as bushes. Bacon.
My bonds I brake,
Fled from my guard, and, in a muddy lake,
Amongst the tedget, all the night lay hid. Denham.
Niphates, with inverted urn,
And drooping sedge, shall his Armenia mourn.
Dry den.
Old father Thames raised up his reverend head,
But feared the fate of Simoeis would return :
Deep in his ooze he sought his tedgy bed,
A ad shrunk his waters back into his urn. Id.
SEDHOUT, a noted fortress of Hindostan,
in the province of Golcoodah, and district of
Cuddapah. It is the capital of a small district of
the same name, belonging to the British, and
was taken by Meer Joomla, about the year 1650.
At this period Sedhout and the adjoining district
were celebrated for their diamond mines, which
do not now exist. The fortress is six mile*
north-east of Cuddapah.
SEDIMENT, n. s. Fr. sediment ; Lat. sedi-
mentum. That which subsides or settles at the
bottom.
The salt water rises into a kind of scum on the
top, and partly goeth into a sediment in the bottom,
and so is rather a separation than an evaporation.
Bacon's Natural History.
It is not bare agitation, but the sediment at the
bottom, that troubles and defiles the water.
South' t Sermons.
That matter sunk not down till last of all, settling
at the surface of the sediment, and covering all the
rest. Woodward.
SEDITION, n. s. Fr. sedition ; Lat. icditio.
A tumult ; insurrection ; popular commotion.
That sunshine brewed a shower for him,
That washed his father's fortunes forth of France,
And heaped sedition on his crown at home.
Shakspeare. Henry VI.
In soothing them, we nourished 'gainst our senate
The cockle of rebellion, insolence, sedition.
Id. Coriolanus.
The cause why I have brought this army hither,
Is to remove proud Somerset from the king,
Seditious to his grace and to the state.
Id. Henry VI.
Very many of the nobility in Edinborough, at that
time, did not appear yet in this seditious behaviour.,
Clarendon.
Thou returnest
From flight, sfditious angel. Milton.
But, if she has deformed this earthly life
With murderous rapine and seditious strife,
In everlasting darkness must she lie ;
Still more unhappy that she cannot die. Prior.
SEDITION, in the civil law, is used for a fac-
tious commotion of the people, or an assembly
of a number of citizens without lawful authority,
tending to disturb the peace and order of so-
ciety. This offence is of different kinds: some
seditions more immediately threatening the su-
preme power, and the subversion of the consti-
tution j others tending only towards the redress
of private grievances. Among the Romans,
therefore, it was variously punished, according
as its end and tendency threatened greater mis-
chief. See lib. 1, Cod. de Seditiosis; and Mat.
de Crimin. lib. ii. n. 5, de Laesa Majestate. In
the punishment the authors and ringleaders were
justly distinguished from those who, with less
wicked intention, joined and made part of the
multitude. The same distinction holds in the
law of England and in that of Scotland. Some
kinds of sedition in England amount to high
treason, and come within the statute 25 Edw.
III. as levying war against the king. And se-
veral seditions are mentioned in the Scottish act*
of parliament as treasonable. — Bayne's Crim.
Law of Scotland, pp. 33, 34. The law of Scot-
land makes riotous and tumultuous assemblies a
species of sedition. But the law there, as well
as in England, is now chiefly regulated by the
riot act, made 1 Geo. I. ; only it is to be ob-
served that the proper officers in Scotland, to
make the proclamation thereby enacted, are
sheriffs, stewards, and bailies of regalities, or their
deputies ; magistrates of royal boroughs, and all
other inferior judges and magistrates ; high and
petty constables, or other officers of the peace,
SED
767
SED
in any county, stewartry, city, or town. And in
that part of the island, the punishment of the
offence is any thing short of death which the
judges, in their discretion, may appoint.
SEDLEY (Sir Charles), an English poet and
•wit, the son of Sir John Sedley, of Aylesford, in
Kent, born about 1639. At the restoration he
came to London to join the general jubilee, and
commenced wit, courtier, poet, and gallant. He
was so much admired that he became a kind of
oracle among the poets; which made king
Charles tell him that nature had given him a
patent to be Apollo's viceroy. The productions
of his pen were some plays, and some delicately
tender amorous poems>, in which the softness of
his verses was so exquisite, as to be called by the
duke of Buckingham Sedley's witchcraft. 'There
were no marks of genius or true poetry to be
described,' say the authors of the Biographia
Britannica; 'the art wholly consisted in raising
loose thoughts and lewd desires, without giving
any alarm ; and so the poison worked gently and
irresistibly. Our author, we may be sure, did
not escape the infection of his own art, or rather
•was first tainted himself before he spread the in-
fection to others.' A very ingenious writer of
the present day, however, speaks much more fa-
vorably of Sir Charles Sedley's writings. ' He
studied human nature; and was distinguished
for the art of making himself agreeable, particu-
larly to the ladies ; for the verses of lord Ro-
chester, beginning with, ' Sedley has that prevail-
ing gentle art,' &c., so often quoted, allude not to
his writings, but to his personal address.' — Lang-
horn's Effusions, &c. But while he thus grew
in reputation for wit, and in favor with the king,
he grew poor and debauched ; his estate was im-
paired, and his morals were corrupted. One of
his follies, however, being followed by an indict-
ment and a heavy fine, Sir Charles reformed, ap-
plied himself to business, and became a member
of parliament, in which he was a frequent
speaker. He was in the house of commons in
the reign of James If., whose attempts upon the
constitution he vigorously withstood; and he
was very active in bringing on the Revolution.
This was thought more extraordinary as he had
received favors from James. But that prince
had taken a fancy to Sir Charles's daughter, and,
in consequence of his intrigues with her, he
created her countess of Dorchester. This ho-
nor so far from pleasing, greatly shocked Sir
Charles. However libertine he himself had
been, yet he could not bear the thoughts of his
daughter's dishonor ; and, with regard to her
exaltation, he only considered it as rendering her
more conspicuously infamous. He therefore
conceived a hatred for the king ; and from this
and other motives, perhaps patriotic, readily
joined to dispossess him of his throne. ' I hate
ingratitude,' said he, 'and therefore, as the king
has made my daughter a countess, I will endea-
vour to make his daughter a queen; meaning
the princess Mary, married to the prince of
Orange, who deprived James of his crown at the
Revolution. He lived to the beginning of queen
Anne's reign ; and his works were printed in 2
vols. 8vo. 1719.
SEDIl, or SEDRE, the high-priest of the
sect of Ali among the Persians. The sedre ii
appointed by the emperor of Persia, who usually
confers the dignity on his nearest relation. The
jurisdiction of the sedre extends over all effects
destined for pious purposes, over all mosques,
hospitals, colleges, sepulchres, and monasteries.
He disposes of all ecclesiastical employments,
and nominates all the superiors of religious
houses. His decisions in matters of religion are
received as so many infallible oracles ; he judges
of all criminal matters in his own house without
appeal. His authority is balanced by that of
the mudsitehid, or first theologue of the empire.
SEDUCE', v. a. \ ¥t.seduire;Lai.seduco.
SEDUCE'MENT, n. s. /To draw aside from the
SEDU'CER, Bright; tempt; corrupt;
SEDU'CIBLE, adj. i deprave; deceive: se-
SEDUC'TION, n. s. J ducement is the practice
of seduction : seducer and the other derivatives
correspond.
In the latter times some shall depart from the
faith, giving heed to seducing spirits. I Tim. iv. 1.
Me the gold of France did not teduce,
Although I did admit it as a motive
The sooner to effect what I intended.
Shakspeare. Henry V.
A beauty-waining and distressed widow
Seduced the pitch and height of all his thoughts
To base declension. Id. Richard III.
Grant it me, O king ; otherwise a seducer flourishes,
and a poor maid is undone. Shabspeare.
1 shall never gratify the spitefulness of a few with
any sinister thoughts of all their allegiance, whom
pious frauds have seduced. King Charles.
Whatsoever men's faith, patience, or perseverance
were, any remarkable indulgence to this sin, the se-
duction of Balaam, was sure to bring judgments.
Hammond.
Subtle he needs must be who could seduce
Angels. Milton.
To season them, and win them early to the love
of virtue and true labour, ere any flattering seduce -
ment or vain principle seize them wandering, some
easy and delightful book of education should be read
to them. Id. on Education.
We owe much of our errour to the power which
our affections have over our so easy seducible under-
standings. Glanrilte.
The deceiver soon found out this soft place of
Adam's, and innocency itself did not secure him
from this way of seduction. Id. Scepsis.
To procure the miseries of others in those extremi-
ties, wherein we hold an hope to have no society our-
selves, is a strain above Lucifer, and a project beyond
the primary seduction of hell.
Browne's Vulgar Errour*.
The vicious example of ages past poisons the
curiosity of the present, affording a hint of sin unto
seducible spirits. Browne.
Nor let false friends seduce thy mind to fame
By arrogating Jonson's hostile name ;
Let father Flecknoe fire thy mind with praise,
And uncle Ogleby thy envy raise. Dryden.
He, whose firm faith no reason could remove,
Will melt before that soft seducer, love. Id.
There is a teaching by restraining seducers, and
so removing the hindrances oftnowledge. South.
Her hero's dangers touched the pitying power,
The nvmph's seducements, and the magick bower.
Pope.
llttkn ascribes her seduction to Venus, and men-
tions nothing of Paris. la
768
SEDUCTION.
A woman who is above flattery, and despises all
praise but that which flows from the approbation of
her own heart, is, morally speaking, out of the reach
of seduction. C'torisw.
I know that the devil is continually lying in wait
to seduce and destroy the souls of men. Patey.
SEDUCTION, is the act of tempting and draw-
ing aside from the right path, and comprehends
every endeavour»to corrupt any individual of the
human race. This is the import of the word in
its largest and most general sense; but it is
commonly employed to express the act of tempt-
ing a virtuous woman to part with her chastity.
The seducer of female innocence practises the
husbands, and evils so great result from the
violation of that fidelity, that, whatever con tri
butes in any degree to its preservation, m;;st he-
agreeable to him who, in establishing the laws of
nature, intended them to be subservient to the
real happiness of all his creatures. But nothing
contributes so much to preserve the fidelity of
wives to their husbands as the impressing upon
the minds of women the highest veneration for
the virtue of chastity. She who, when unmar-
ried, has been accustomed to grant favors to
different men, will not find it easy, if indeed
possible, to resist afterwards the allurements of
variety, after marriage. It is therefore a wise
institution, and agreeable to the will of Him who
same stratagems of fraud to get posession of a made us, to train up women so as that they may
woman's person, that the swindler employs to look upon the loss of their chastity as the most
get possession of his neighbour's goods or money ; disgraceful of all crimes, as that which sinks
yet the law of honor, which pretends to abhor them in the order of society, and robs them of
deceit, and which impels its votaries to murder all their value. In this light virtuous women
every man who presumes, however justly, to actually look upon the loss of chastity. The
suspect them of fraud, or to question their ve- importance of that virtue has been so deeply
racity, applauds the address of a successful in- impressed upon their minds, and is so closely
trigue, though it be well known that the seducer associated with the principle of honor, that they
could not have obtained his end without swear-
ing to the truth of a thousand falsehoods, and
cannot think but with abhorrence upon the very
deed by which it is lost. He therefore who, by
calling upon God to witness promises which he fraud and falsehood, persuades the unsuspecting
never meant to fulfil. The law of honor is in-
deed a very capricious rule, which accommo-
girl to deviate in one instance from the honor of
the sex, weakens in a great degree her moral
dates itself to the pleasures and conveniences of principle ; and, if he reconcile her to a repetition
high life; but the law of the land, which is
enacted for the equal protection of high and
of her crime, he destroys that principle entirely,
as she has been taught to consider all other vir-
low, may be supposed to view the guilt of tues as inferior to that of chastity. Hence it is
seduction with a more impartial eye. Yet, for that the hearts of prostitutes are generally
this offence, even the laws of this kingdom have steeled against the miseries of their fellow-crea-
provided no other punishment than a pecuniary tures ; that they lend their aid to the seducer in
satisfaction to the injured family, which, in Eng- his practices upon other girls ; that they lie and
land, can be obtained only by one of the quaint- swear, and steal without compunction ; and that
est fictions in the world, by the father's bringing too many of them hestitate not to commit murder,
his action against the seducer for the loss of his
daughter's service during her pregnancy and
nurturing. (See Paley's Moral Philosophy, book
III., part iii. chap. 3.) The moralist, however,
who estimates the merit or demerit of actions,
not by laws of human appointment, but their
general consequences as established by the laws
of nature, must consider the seducer as a crimi-
nal of the deepest guilt. In every civilised
country, and in many countries where civilisa-
if it can serve any selfish purpose of their own.
The loss of virtue, though the greatest that man
or woman can sustain, is not the only injury
which the seducer brings upon the girl whom he
deceives. She cannot at once reconcile herself
to prostitution, or even to the loss of character ;
and while a sense of shame remains in her mind,
the misery which she suffers must be exquisite.
She knows that she has forfeited what in the
female character is most valued by both sexes ;
tion has made but small progress, the virtue of and she must be under the perpetual dread of a
women is collected as it were into a single point,
which they are to guard above all things, as that
on which their happiness and reputation wholly
depend. At first sight this may appear a capri-
cious regulation ; but a moment's reflection will
convince us of the contrary. In the married
state so much confidence is necessarily reposed
in the fidelity of women to the beds of their
discovery. She cannot even confide in the ho-
nor of her seducer, who may reveal her secret in
a fit of drunkenness, and thus rob her of her
fame as well as of her virtue ; and, while she is
in this state of anxious uncertainty, the agony of
her mind must be insupportable.
We shall resume this subject at the beginning
of the next volume.
END OF VOL. XIX.
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