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Satin A:
-
MEMOIRS
of the
LITERARY
and
PHILOSOPHICAL SOCIETY
of
Manchester.
PPL LD IL
VOLUME V. PART I,
LLL LL TL
PRINTED FOR
CADELL AND DAVIES, LONDON,
George Nicholson, Manchester,
MDCCXCVITI.
a : e
~}
.
LAW S.
i tT ik the Ordinary Members only shall be invested
with the privilege of voting and electing Members ; and
that the whole expences of the Society shall devolve upon
them,
II. That Gentlemen residing at a distance from Man-
chester shall be eligible into this Society, under the
title of Honorary Members ; provided no one be recom-
mended who has not distinguished himself by his literary
or philosophical publications.
III, That Gentlemen at a distance, who have favoured
the Society with important communications, or from whom
such contributions may be expected, shall be eligible, un-
der the title of Corresponding Members,
IV. That every Candidate for admission into the Socie-
ty, whether as an Ordinary, Honorary, or Corresponding
Member, shall be proposed by at least three Ordinary
Members, who shall sign a certificate of his being, from
their knowledge of him, of his character, or of his writings,
a fit person to be admitted into it ; which certificate shall
be read at not fewer than two successive meetings of the
Society, previous to the evening of election,
V. That no election shall be made, either of Ordinary,
Honorary, or Corresponding Members, except at the Quar-
a LAWS.
terly Meetings; and that notice shall be given to each
Member, whenever a Candidate is nominated,
VI. That every election shall be conducted by ballot,
and that the majority of votes shall decide; and that the
President shall have the determining voice, if the number
of votes be equal. }
VII. That when an Ordinary Member removes to a
greater distance than twenty miles from Manchester, he
may beentitled to the continuance of the privileges of the
Society, by paying five guineas to the Treasurer, in lieu of
his annual subscription,
VIII. That a President, four Vice-Presidents, two Se-
cretaries, a Treasurer, and a Librarian be elected annually
by the majority of Members present, on the last Friday
inthe month of April. The election to be determined by -
ballot.
IX, That a Committee of Papers shall be appointed by
ballot, at the same time, which shall consist of the Presi-
dent, Vice-Presidents, Secretaries, Treasurer, and Libra-
rian, together with six other Members of the Society ; and
that this Committee skall decide by ballot concerning the
publication of any paper which shali have been read before
the Society ; and shall select, with the consent of the Au-
thor, detached parts of any paper, the whole of which
may not be deemed proper for publication ; but that the
presence of seven Members of the Committee shall be ne-
' cessary for such discussion or decision,
_.X, That Visitors may be introduced by any Member to
the Meetings of the Society, with the permission of ‘the
Chairman.
XI, That every Member who shall favour the Society
LAW S. Vv
with communications, shall send them to one of the Secre-
. taries, the Monday before the meeting of the Society.
XII. That the Secretary to whom the paper shall be
delivered, shall, with the approbation of the President,
or two Vice-Presidents, have the power of suspending the
reading of it until it be referred toa meeting of the Com-
mittee of Papers, whose decision shall be final,
XIII. That all papers judged admissible shall be read
by one of the Secretaries, or by the author, in their order.
XIV. That no more than half an hour shall be allowed
for the reading of any paper; and if the whole cannot be
read within that time, the remainder (except the Society
determine otherwise) shall be deferred till the succeeding
evening. No paper however shall engage more than two
evenings, without the consent of the Society, expressed.
by ballot, if required.
XV. That every Ordinary Member who produces a
paper, shall therewith deliver a summary of its leading
contents, which shall be read, paragraph by paragraph, af-
ter the paper to regulate its discussion,
XVI. That the Speakers shall direct to the Chair any
observations they may make; and, if it be difficult to
command immediate attention, it is desirable that they
should stand up when they address the President.
XVII. That authors be requested to furnish the Society
with an epitome of their papers, which may be read at the
meeting succeeding the reading of each paper, and the
discussion renewed,
XVIII. That’ each Ordinary Member shall pay one
guinea annually, by half yearly payments, into the hands
vi LAWS,
of the Treasurer, to defray incidental expences, and to
establish a fund for the benefit of the Society. Each Mem-
ber on his election to pay his subscription for the current
half year, together with two guineas as an admission fee.
XIX. That each of the Vice-Presidents, in rotation,
undertake his office, for one month; during which term
he shall take the chair, in the absence of the President, at
seven o’clock precisely: it is hoped that he will furnish
articles of intelligence; and when no paper is before the
Society, it is expected that he provide a subject for dis-,
cussion,
XX, That no laws shall be enacted, rescinded, or al-
tered, but at the quarterly meetings, on the last Fridays in
the months of January, April, and October; and that no-
tice shall be given, at least, fourteen days previous to those
meetings.
XXI. That the Society shall publish ‘a volume of mis-
cellaneous papers, at least, every two years. And that, at
stated times, the Committee shall select from the. papers
which have been read to the Society, such as shall appear
to be most worthy of publication, but that no paper shall
be published without the consent of the author. That
every paper, voted for publication by the Committee
of Papers, shall be sent to the press without delay; that
notice of the printing shall be given to the author, and that
he be entitled to thirty separate copies, on paying the ex-
traordinary expence attending them.
XXII. That a Library be formed for the use of the
Members of this Society, and that the Librarian be autho-
rized to purchase such books as shall be ordered at the
guarterly mectings of the Society: but that no book shall
LAW S§S., vii
be taken out of the library, without leave of the Librarian,
and that the time of keeping it be limited to seven days.
XXIII. That the resolution to establish a library be an-
nounced to the Honorary and Corresponding Members of
the Society ; and that it be intimated to them by the Se-
cretaries, that donations of their past and future publica-
tions will be highly acceptable,
XXIV. That a corp mepAt shall be given to the au-
thor of the most valuable experimental paper, containing
some important discovery relative to the arts and manufac-
tures of Manchester, which shall have been delivered to
the Secretaries, and read at the ordinary meeting of the
Society, before the last Friday in March, 1798.
XXV. That the adjudication of this premium be refer-
red to the Committee of Papers; that their decision shall
be made by ballot ; andthat the medal shall be delivered by
the President to the person to whom it shall have been ad-
judged, or to his representative, at the first meeting of the
Society in October, 1798.
XXVI. That two sttver meDALS shall be given an-
nually, one to the author of the best Essay ona Literary, and
another to the best on a Philosophical Subject, which shall
have been read at the Society during the course of the
season ; to be determined by the Committee of Papers,
A
LIST OF THE MEMBERS.
00 O|SD|Oeoe=——
* Thomas Percival, M.D. F.R.S. and
S.A. London; F.R.S. Edinburgh;
Member of the American Academy \ p..ig
of Arts and Sciences, of the Phi- cata 59
losophical Society of Philadelphia,
&e, &e.
Charles White, Esq. F.R. S. Corres-
ponding Member of the Royal an-|
tiquarian Society of Scotland.
* Mr. Thomas Henry, F. R. S. Member . } mh
" of the Philosophical Society of Phi- ¢ Vice-Presidents,
ladelphia.
* S.A, Bardsley, M. D.
* Edward Holme, M. D. |
* Mr, William Henry. \ Secretaries.
* John Hull, M.D.
* Mr. Joseph Collier, Librarian.
* Nathaniel Heywood, Esq. Treasurer.
Mr. Robert Ashworth.
Mr. John Atkinson.
Rev.\Thomas Barnes, D. D. Member of the Philosophical
Society of Philadelphia.
Mr. Charles Barret.
LIST OF MEMBERS,
* Mr. Thomas Barritt,
Thomas Butterworth Bayley, Esq. F. R.S.
Michael Bentley, Esq.
Mr, John Bill.
Mr, J. J. Boutflower.
Mr. Charles Frederic Brandt,
Mr, John Clarke.
Mr. Ashworth Clegs,
Mr, John Close.
* Mr. John Dalton,
Mr. John Charlton Dawson,
Peter Drinkwater, Esq.
Mr. George Duckworth.
Mr, Peter Ewart.
Mr. Thomas Fosbrooke,
Mr. Edward Green.
Mr. Samuel Greg,
Mr, Gavin Hamilton,
Mr. Joseph Hanson.
Mr. William Harrison.
Rev. William Hawkes,
Benjamin Arthur Heywood, Esq.
Mr. Thomas Hoghton,
* Mr. Thomas Hoyle,
Mr. John Jackson.
Mr, William Lamb.
Mr. John Lawrence,
Mr. George Lee.
George Lloyd, Esq.
John Lloyd, Esq.
Mr, Charles Macniven,
_ Mr. Samuel Marsland,
Mr. John Mather.
Mr. Richard Meadowcroft.
VOL. Vv. b
ix
x LIST OF MEMBERS,
John Mitchell, M. D.
Mr. William Mitchell.
Mr. Richard Moulson.
* Mr. J. D. Moxon,
Mr. John Nash,
Mr. Thomas Nicholson,
Mr. Thomas Ollier.
Mr. Robert Owen.
Mr. George Philips,
Mr. John Philips.
Mr. Robert Philips.
Thomas Richardson, Esq.
Mr, Thomas Robinson,
Mr, Thomas Ross,
* Mr. Theophilus Lewis aspen
Mr. Richard Rushforth.
* Mr, John Sharpe.
Mr, James Watkins,
Mr, John Bradshaw White.
Joseph Yates, Esq.
Those marked thus * are of the Committee of Papers.
CORRESPONDING MEMBERS,
William Alexander, M. D. Halifax.
Dr. Astbury, Newcastle-under-Lines
George Bew, M. D. Kendal.
D. Campbell, M. D. Lancaster,
Mr, John Dawson, Sedbergh,
LIST OF MEMBERS. xt
Mr, Thomas Falconer, A.M. C. C. C, Oxford.
Thomas Garnett, M. D. Anderson’s Professor, Glasgow.
Mr. George Smith Gibbes, A.B. Fellow of Magdalen
College, Oxford,
Dr, Gibelin, of Aix.
Mr, John Gough, Kendal.
James Greene, Esq. M. P.
Mr. Thos, Henry, junr. Philadelphia.
Mr. Frederic Hoffman, Berlin.
William Lambe, A. M. Physician, Warwick,
John Lyon, M. D. Liverpool.
_James Milnes, Esq.
Mr, Francis Nichols,
Dr. Peadlé, of Aix.
Rev. Thomas Basnett Percival, L, L. B. St. Petersburg,
Mr. Helenus Scott, Bombay,
Rev. Robert Uvedale, A. B. Trin, Coll, Cambridge,
Dr, Waterhouse, of Cambridge, New-England,
Mr, Thomas Willis, London.
HONORARY MEMBERS,
John Aikin, M.D.
James Anderson, L. L, D. F.R.S. & A.S. Edin,
Sir George Baker, Bart. F. R, S. Medic. Reg,
Sir Joseph Banks, P.R.S. &c, &c.
M. Berthollet, Paris.
Patrick Brydone, Esq. F.R,S,
Sir Richard Clayton, Bart,
xii LIST OF MEMBERS.
Edwood Chorley, M. D.
James Currie, M. D. F.R. 5.
Erasmus Darwin, M. D. F.R.S.
J. R. Deiman, M. D. Amsterdam.
Edward Hussey Delaval, Esq. F. R. S. Reg. S.S, Gotting,
& Upsal. & Instit. Bologn. Soc.
The Hon. Sir John Talbot Dillon, Knight, and Baron of
the Holy Roman Empire,
Captain John Drinkwater.
Rev. William Magee, B.D. Fellow of Trinity College,
Dublin.
Francis Maseres, Esq. F, R.S.
William Falconer, M.D. F.R.S.
Anthony Fothergill, M, D. F.R.S.
M. Frossard, Paris.
Christopher Girtanner, M.D. F.R.S, Edin; &e,
Rev. Thomas Gisborne, A. M.
Rev. George Gregory, D. D. Prebendary of Chiswick in
the Cathedral of St. Paul, and Domestic Chaplain te
the Lord Bishop of Landaff,
William Hawes, M.D.
John Haygarth, M. B. F.R.S. Lond. & Edin. &c.
‘Mr. William Hey, F.R. S.
Mr. George Hibbert.
Alexander Hunter, M.D. F.R.S.
James Johnstone, M.D.
Richard Kirwan, Esq. F. R. S. &c.
Right Rev. Richard, Lord Bishop of Landaff, F, R,S, &c-
Right Rev. Beilby, Lord Bishop of London.
John Coakley Lettsom, M. D. F. R.S, and S, A.
Mr, Patrick Mac Morland,
Henry Moyes, M. D.
George Pearson, M. D. F.R, S.
M. Roland Platiere,
M, Pointevin,
LIST OF MEMBERS, xiii
Rev. Joseph Priestley, L.L. D. F.R.S.
Mr, William Rathbone.
Rev. John Radeliffe, A, M. Brazen-nose-College, Oxford.
Mr, William Roscoe.
‘Benjamin Rush, M. D. Professor of the Theory and Prac-
tice of Physic at Philadelphia, &c.
Samuel Foart Simmons, M.D. F.R.S.
Sig. Alexander Volta, Professor of Experimental Philoso-
phy at Como, &c.
Rev. Gilbert Wakefield, B. A.
Rev. John Whittaker, B. D. F,S. A.
Arthur Young, Esq. F,R.S.
HONORARY MEMBERS,
OMITTED IN THE ABOVE LIST.
Charles Hatchett, Esq.
The Rev. William Turner, Newcastle upon Tyne.
The bookbinder is requested to paste the above at the end of the list
of Members, page xiii.
|
CON.T.EN TS
wetted Magee hag a heater heme
Cursory Remarks, Moral and Political, on
Party-Prejudice. By Samuel Argent Bardsley,
ot Rn RENMEI eh dee were cy) Me page 1
Extraordinary Facts relating to the Vision of
Colours: with Observations. By Mr. John
fee DEES eee: Tees ORB)
An Enquiry into the Name of the Founder of
Huln Abbey, Northumberland, the first in Eng-
land of the Order of Carmelites: with Remarks
on Dr. Ferriar’s Account of the Monument in
the Church of that Monastery. By Robert
Uvedale, B.A. of Trinity College, Cambridge ;
Corresponding Member of the Literary and
Philosophical Socrety of Manchester.—Addressed
MERE PCT GUGM este areata nsenweenceiths can p. 46
On the Variety of Voices. By Mr. John
Gough.—Communicated by Dr. Holme........ p. 58
On the Benefits and Duties resulting from the
Lastitution of Societies for the Advancement of
Literature and Philosophy. By the Reverend
CONTENTS, ee
Thomas Gisborne, M. A.—Communicated by
Re? PTCA VGA Lice nak acd ong bin an cnn geo MAUD. Leta p- 70
On an Universal Character; in a Letter
from James Anderson, L. L. D. F. R.S.
F.A.S.S, &c. &c. to Edward Holme, M. D. p. 89
The Inverse Method of Central Forces.—Com-
municated by Dr. HOlMe..--.-++sc--c-scseseeeesees p- 102
Observations on Iron and Steel. By Joseph
DT ERRORS Saeed Ret Rae p. 109
Remarks on Dr. Priestley’s Experiments and
Observations relating to the Analysis of Atmos-
pherical Arr, and his Considerations on the Doc-
tine of Phlogiston and the Decomposition of Wa-
ter. By Theophilus Lewis Rupp .......-.... p- 123
An Account of three Different Kinds of Tim~ _
ber Trees, which are likely to prove a great Ac-
quisition to this Kingdom, both in Point of Profit
and as Trees for Ornament and Shade. By
‘Charles White, Esq. F. R, S. -----c--eessner-one p- 163
An Analysis of the Waters of two Mineral
Springs at Lemington Priors, near Warwick ;
including Experiments tending to elucidate the Ori-
gin of the Muriatic Acid. By William Lambe,
M.A. late Fellow of St. Fohn’s College Cam-
bridge-—Communicaicd by Dr. Holme «++... P- 174
xvi CONTENTS.
Some Account of the Persian Cotton Tree.
By Matthew Guthrie, M.D. F.R.S. &c. &c.
—Communicated by Dri Percival......----+-+-. p. 214
Experiments and Observations on the Prepa-
ration and some remarkable Properties of the
Oxygenaied Muriat of Potash. By Thomas
Hoyle, jun. BP. ese erat Sie a iE RA p. 221
Experiments and Observations on Fermenta-
tion and the Distillation ue Ardent Spirit. By
Joseph Collier ere cee ce ie esnceegaemvecaposens p-. 243
Hints on the Establishment of an Universal
wriiien Character. In a Letter to the Rev.
Dr. John Kemp. By William Brown, M. D.
—Communicaied by Dr. Holme...+.2.seeneeee- P- 275
On the Process of Bleaching with the oxyge- -
nated muriatic Acid; and a Description of a
new Apparatus for Bleaching Cloths with that
Acid dissolved in Water, without the Addition
of Alkali. By Theophilus Lewis Rupp. ---- p. 298
Account of a remarkable Change of Colour in
a Negro. By Miers Fisher.—Exiract of a
Letter from Mr. James Pemberton to Mr.
Thomas Wilkinson.—Communicated by Dr.
I Fenn rnncench die iah na eR nceseneyeeneae p. 314
a:
aii RRRARRANSS————
MEMOIRS
of the
LITERARY & PHILOSOPHICAL SOCIETY
of
SAanchester;
—>?Ose— e
«
CURSORY REMARKS, MORAL AND POLITICAL,
on
Party-Prejudice.
BY SAMUEL ARGENT BARDSLEY, M.D.
READ APRIL 19TH, 1794.
sos . . . a
Cuivis enim patet consuescere homines, eos, qui suarum partium
sunt, immodicis efferre laudibus qui autem contrarii sunt, infra meri-
tum deprimere. Bacon.
Among the variety of prejudices which have
tyrannized over mankind, no one has ruled with
more uncontrouled sway, than the prejudice of
Party. Prejudices founded on ignorance may be
removed, by solely enlightening the mind. But
party-prejudice, commonly associated with invete-
rate habits, and strengthened by the influence of pas-
sion and interest, is with difficulty conquered, even
VOL, V. ea
2 On Party-Prejudice.
uh
with the assistance of knowledge, reason, and truth.
The learned therefore, as well as the ignorant, are
subject to its influence. For the mind engaged in
political subjects, connected with interest, passion,
or habit, exercises its faculties with partiality ; draws
erroneous conclusions; and thus blinds, confounds,
and leads the judgment captive to its perverse in-
clinations. If ignorance* be the parent, passion
and self-love may be considered as the nurses of
prejudice.
Nor does virtue protect her votary from its at-
tacks. It is, certainly, a plant of quick growth in
‘a vicious and ignorant bosom; but, too frequently,
takes deep root, and flourishes in the breasts of the
wise and virtuous. Then, indeed, it becomes the
source of great moral and political evil. For when
in matters even of small importance to the welfare
of a state, the character's, stamped by public opinion
as great and good, swerve, from the line of recti-
tude, and yield to the voice of interest, or the clam-
ours of faction, our ideas of right and wrong are
confounded, and public virtue receives a dangerous
wound: and their guilt acquires an importance, in
* The influence of prejudice, operating on honest but
ignorant minds, is curiously exemplified in the following
form of an old presentment by an inquest. ‘* We say,”*
observe the jury, “ that I. Stevens is a man we cannot tell
what to make of him; andvhe hath books we cannot un-
derstand them,” Hakewell, Mod, Tenend, Parl, page 172,
&
On Party-Prejudice. 3
proportion as the influence of example is extend-
ed to others: Plusque exemplo, quam peccato no-~
cent.
The evil of party-prejudice is not confined to
the state. It imvades the peacegof individuals,
friends, and neighbours. The tender charities of
blood and kindred are frequently dissolved. De-
traction is the bitter, but detested foe of human hap-
piness. Party-malice, however, acting under the
mask of patriotism, instead of exciting detestation
of its malignity, too often meets with the applause of
the zealous ‘partizan. , Characters are thus blasted
with impunity; and the atrocity of the crime is con-
cealed by the influence of prejudice.
There appears a natural bias in the human mind
towards prejudice. * It often arises,” according to
the observation of an eloquent French writer,*
‘¢ from that unhappy tendency in the human mind
towards .a perplexity in the employment of its
powers, which plunges it into error, in spite of op-
position: for the human mind, so far from resem-
bling a faithful mirror (whose equal surface admits
and reflects the rays of light with unaltered fidelity)
may rather be considered as a kind of magical glass,
which presents only disfigured and monstrous ob-
jects.” If the soil be so rank, no wonder that the
4
* D’Alembert: Encyclopédie,
oo
4 On Party-Prejudice.
weeds of party-spirit and detraction spring up to
luxuriance, when watered and cultivated by the pa-
rent’s or tutor’s care. Example and authority often
conspire to chain down the mind to illiberal and ridi-
culous prejudices. The pupil-is early impressed by
some appellation, descriptive of a party or sect. This
term genérally embraces a complex idea. But the
tender mind is suffered to entertain only the single
idea of contempt, or disgrace, affixed to the obnox-
ious party. Thus the real grounds on which such
a party-distinction is built, are concealed from the
view: perhaps they are little understood by those,
whose duty it is to unfold their nature and designs.
For to analyse the various interests of contending
parties in a free government, requires a considerable
attention to its history; and sucha degree of reflec-
tion, as seldom falls to the share of a party-bigot.
Youth are thus led to form unjust associations of
ideas; which are frequently never eradicated dur-
ing a life of study and information; even when as-
sisted by the most brilliant talents.
Locke observes, in his chapter on association,
that some independent ideas of no alliance to
one another, are by education, custom, and the
constant din of party, so coupled in the mind
that they always appear there together; and can
no more be separated in thought, than if they
were but one idea; and they operate as if they were
SO.
On Party-Prejudice. 5
The history of many great characters in free
states affords numerous examples, to prove the
danger and folly of communicating and cherishing
party-prejudice. Its tenacious hold on the most
powerful intellects is truly astonishing! Is there a
breast so stceled by party-spirit, as not to. lament
for human infirmity, when the political bigotry of a
Milton and a Johnson appear to-view? Milton,
who strenuously opposed the re-establishment* ef
limited monarchy, and became the champion of re-
publicanism, sunk so deeply under the power of
prejudice, as to glory in being united both in praiset
* See Milton’s ** Ready and easy Way to establisha
Commonwealth.” An. 1659.
+ Tu mihi sic perge maledicere, ut Cromuello pejor tide
sim, qua nulla majore me laude afficere potuisti.”
“* Cum presertim non reipublice solum, sed & mej
quoque intersit, ut, qui eadem infamia tam prope sim con-
junctus quam optimum eum (viz. Cromwell) atque omni
laude dignissimum, gentibus, quoad possum, omnibus atque
czeculis, demonstrarem.”? Milton, Défensio eda, pag.go &
108, Ed. Toland, Amstelodam,
It may, indeed, justly be conceded to the apologists of
Milton, that his general conduct was influenced by the
purest motives of patriotism; and that his sincerity ought
‘not to be questioned, when, in a solemn appeal to the
Deity, he affirms, that a sense of duty, justice, and sin-
cere regard to the best interests of his country, solely
guided the pen in all his political writings.
‘6 Testor itidem Deum, me nihil istiusmodi scyipsisse,
quod non rectum, & verum, deoque gratum esse & per-
6 On Party-Prejudice.
and dispraise, in danger and in triumph, with the
fanatical usurper Cromwell. Johnson was educa-
ted a party-bigot. His father who excited his re-
- suaserim tum mihi etiamnum persuasus sim, idque nulla
ambitione, lucro aut gloria ductus; sed officii, sed honesti,
sed pietatis in patriam ratione sola.” Denfens, 2da,
pag. 88. But that the mist of prejudice had concealed
from him the ambitious and traitorous designs of Crom-
well, cannot, in truth, be denied by his warmest panegyr-
ists. Indeed, it requires a large portion of enthusiastic
admiration of his character and talents, not to treat with
indignation, his flagrant pay to Cromwell. What
incense has Milton offered up to him in his ‘* Second De-'
fence,” for not assuming the title of King, but modestly
contenting himself with the less pompous and less invidi-
ous appellation of Lord-Protectors; or, as Milton terms it,
** Pater Patria !”” Fatherof his Country! This panegyrical
address to Cromwell, although seasoned with the most elo-
quent and spirited advice, recommending moderation and
the establishment of a well-ordered commonwealth, was
written at the time when the author was Latin-Secretary
to the Tyrant, who had, in person, ignominiously expel-
led one parliament, by whose authority he had acquired
power, and soon after dissolved another, packed by him-
self; but which he considered as not sufficiently devoted
to his interest. Indeed, such was Milton’s over-heated
zeal and prejudice, as to lead him to bestow extravagant
praise on the Usurper, who had dismissed a parliament
with indecent violence, and of his own authority; and
yet to condemn, with unrelenting asperity, the similar
arbitrary, but, certainly, far less atrocious conduct, in the
deceased—ill-fated monarch !
— es
On Party-Prejudice. -
verence, and his mother whose indulgence won his
affections, inculcated a set of opinions, which
« orew with his growth, and strengthened with
his strength.” He was not satisfied with taking co-
pious draughts of the spirit of party, but drank up
the very dregs and lees of national and personal
prejudice !
It forms, then, a most important part of educa-
tion, to keep the mind free from injurious party-
prejudice; and to prevent those early associations,
which, by imparting an, obliquity to the moral fa-
culty, impress on the mind, ever afterwards, a
kind of necessity to deviate from the line of recti-
tude.* This ought to be the parent’s peculiar care;
for, as Montesquieu‘ finely remarks, ‘¢ The parent -
is generally capable of communicating his know-
ledge to his offspring: he is still more able to im-
press them with his passions.”
* & Tet any man, who hath been deeply engaged in the
contests and views of party, ask himself, on cool reflec-
tion, whether prejudices concerning men and things have
not grown up andustrengthened with him; and obtained an
uncontroulable influence over his conduct? We dare ap-
peal to the sentiments of every such person.”
Bolingbroke’s Remarks on the History
of England: Letter 23d.
+ ** Onest ordinarement le maitre de’donner 4 ses enfans ‘
ses connoissances: on I’ est encore plus de leur donner
ses passions,”
L’ Esprit des Loix, chap. 5+ p- 55»
: On Party-Prejudice.
If the question be asked: whether it be not the
indispensable duty of those, who have the charge of
education, in free states which partake of a mixed
form, to impress the minds of youth not only with
general views of the fundamental principles of the
constitution, and to inspire them with a rational
zeal for the preservation of its liberties and_bles-
sings; but also to make them acquainted with the
history and transactions of its party divisions?
There can be no hesitation in making a reply in the
affirmative.
For the necessity of imparting this information,
upon just and liberal views of the subject, arises
from a sacred obligation due to their country, as well
as from a bounden duty to promote the happiness of
their children and posterity. Yet, in performing
this necessary task, great caution and judgment must
be used. Let them beware of chaining down their
minds to the opinions of party, instead of binding
their attachments to the principles of the constitution.
To magnify the patriotism, virtue, and talents of
one party ; and to exaggerate the faults and depress
the merits of their opponents, would be to corrupt
the candour of young and ingenuous minds. In-
deed, to fix their attention chzefly upon the transac-
tions of parties, would be to lead them from the pure
streams of constitutional information, to drink of the
muddy and bitter waters of rancour and party-strife.
It cannot be denied, that diversities of opinion -
™ La
4
On Party-Prejudice. 9
will arise among the members of free states ; and those
too of such a nature, as may involve questions of the
highest importance to the welfare of the community.
But amidst this clashing of opinions and principles,
we should never lose sight of the just prerogatives,
privileges, and rights of the different branches of
the government. To preserve and defend these
with zeal and firmness, ought to be our sole aim and
endeavour. To maintain an equilibrium between
the power and interests of the distinct orders of a
mixed government, has been the ostensible motive
for the formation of all parties; and, when founded
upon this pure and rational principle, they deserve
our zeal and affection. For, if we consult the in-
structive pages of Grecian and Roman history, we
shall find, that the preservation of the liberties, and
even the existence of the state, frequently depend-
ed on the exertion of parties, composed of virtuous
and brave citizens. But on this, as well as on most
other occasions of human life, we must beware of
deviating from the path of moderation. For this
spirit of party admits of certain definite limita-
tions. — quos ultra citraque nequit consistere
rectum,
A want of attention to the boundaries of attach-
ment, has not only led to the destruction of many
parties, founded on just grounds, but also proved
fatal to the liberties and happiness of the state.
Men of the most splendid talents in the ancient re-
VOL. Vv. B
10 On Party-Prejudice.
publics, have been so powerfully influenced by am-
bition, party-zeal, and prejudice, as to become the
leaders of a guilty faction. Prompted by these
motives, they have sacrificed on the altar of their
mistaken zeal, interest, or revenge, the dearest rights
and happiness of their fellow citizens. Hence arose
proscriptions, massacres, anarchy, and all the train
of evils which lawless usurpers introduced into
countries divided by party-feuds.
Unfortunately, in times of political dissention,
moderation becomes branded with the name of
cowardice or treachery; and-none but violent mea-
sures and counsels meet with approbation. Perhaps
the surest test @f the rectitude and pure intentions
of any party formed in a state, is the conduct of its
leaders towards the moderate and peaceable class of
citizens. For if these contending parties have de-
generated into factions, actuated by ambition or
false zeal, they will alike mark with detestation the
moderate men of the community, who may have
refused to inlist under their respective banners.
Amidst the horrors and confusion of a revolution
or a sedition, the voice of moderation and humani-
ty will have little chance of being heard. In those
turbulent periods, the most settled habitudes and
affections undergo a total transformation. The ad-
mirable description, by Thucydides, of the sedition
at Corcyra, affords a melancholy but instructive
lesson of the change wrought in men’s minds by
On Party-Prejudice. 11
the spirit of party:— Even words,” says the his-
torian, “ now lost their former significance ; since to
palliate actions they were quite distorted. | For tru-
ly, what was before a brutal courage, began to be
esteemed that fortitude which becomes a human and
sociable creature; prudent consideration, to be spe-
cious cowardice ; modesty, the disguise of effemina-
cy; and being wise in every thine, to be good for
nothing. The hot and fiery temper was adjudged
‘to be the exertion of true manly valour ; -cautious
and calm deliberation, to be a plausible pretext for
intended knavery. He, who boiled with indigna-
tion, was undoubtedly trusty; who presumed to
contradict, was ever suspected. He who succeed-
ed in a dishonest scheme, was wise; and he, who
suspected such practices in others, was still a more
able genius. But was he provident enough, so as
never to be in need of such base expedients, he
was one that would not stand to his engagements,
and most shamefully awed by his foes. In short,
he who could step before another in executing vil-
lany, or could persuade a well designing person to
it, was sure to be applauded.*”
“¢ Yet, all this while, the moderate members of
such communities (either hated because they would
not meddle, or envied for such obnoxious conduct)
fell victims to both parties.
* Thucydides, Ed. Duk, lib, iii, sect. 82, p. 217.
+ Sect, 82, page 219.
12 On Party-Prejudice,
If these mischiefs arising from party-prejudice
and bigotted zeal, have beén invariably connected
with the operation of the passions and prejudices of
mankind, when directed to political objects, we
may as justly infer the continuance of similar ef-
fects from correspondent causes, as, that any of
what are called the laws of nature, will remain in-
violate. Both ancient and modern history afford
too many proofs of the truth of this remark. In
Greece and Rome, political intrigues, cabals, and
dissentions incessantly succeeded each other; and,
as an elegant writer observes, “ the spirit of li-
berty fled away from a people, devoted to party-pre-
judices and faction.”
If we enquire more particularly into the general
causes of the evils afflicting these states, we shall
find that they derived their origin from the avarice,
profligacy, and ambition of the heads of different
parties ; assisted by the blind admiration, or supine
inattention of their respective partizans.
An inordinate Just of power, joined to great ta-
lents, when possessed by any individual, render him
a just object of suspicion, both to the government
and the people. If he should fail in subverting the
principles of the constitution, he may yet involve his
country in misery, by splitting it into parties and
factions. The admiration of his talents, and that as-
cendency which strong minds ever possess over the
weak and ignorant, will strengthen the prejudices of
On Party-Prejudice. 13
his party. Ifhe add craft and a command of tem-
per to his other qualities, the danger is moré to be
dreaded. .
Cesar was daringly and artfully ambitious.
Sprung from an illustrious line of ancestors, and
endowed with extraordinary talents, he became a
candidate for popular favour. He was eminently
successful. His eloquence was employed in the
impeachment of the guilty; and his compassion ex-
erted in defending the innocent and oppressed. He
riveted the affections of the people in pronouncing
(contrary toan express law) a funeral oration, on the
loss of his young wife. Plutarch remarks: “ They
sympathized with him as a man of great good na-
ture, and one who had the social duties at heart.”
He was munificent in his bounty to distressed. citi-
zens; and the manner of bestowing greatly enhanc-
ed the value of the gift: Caesar dando, sublevando,
gloriam adeptus est.*
These fascinating qualities served but as a cloak
to conceal his dangerous ambition. His apparent
moderation, talents, and great military skill attracted
a powerful support from the virtuous and well-mean-
ing patriots. Their prejudices blinded their judg-
ment. In vain did Cato declare his suspicions of
the purity of Czsar’s motives. Cicero also failed
in tearing away the mask. But the union of Cesar
and Pompey, at last, too plainly discovered to the
deluded but honest patriots, that a pretended shew
* Sallust,.
14 On Party~Prejudice.
of patriotism was the stalking horse, which had
concealed his destructive machinations against the
safety of the republic. The discovery was made at
too late a period; as he finally triumphed over their
credulity, and the liberties of his country.
Catiline was ambitious like Cesar: yet he failed
in his attempts to subvert the constitution. To
ambition, he joined avarice, profligacy, and unblush-
ing villany. He endeavoured to involve, in one
extended scene of ruin, all that were illustrious in
Rome for talents, virtue, and patriotism. _ He soon
became the chief of a party; but this party was
composed of the needy, the profligate, and the.
guilty: Postremo omnes, quos flagitiwm, egestas
conscius animus exagitabat, Catiline proximt famili-
aresque erant.* This detestable conspiracy was
detected by the superior vigilance and sagacity of
Cicero; and finally overwhelmed, by the united ef-
forts of the brave and virtuous defenders of the
commonwealth.
Catiline and Cesar both aimed at the destruction
of the liberties of their country; but they differed
materially in the means to accomplish that end.
Catiline, by availing himself of the ready assistance
_ of the wicked and necessitous, openly attempted
the subversion of the government. He was oppos-
ed and defeated. Cesar allured to his party the
* Sallust. Bell, Catilinar.
On Party-Prejudice. 15
most virtuous, eloquent, and patriotic citizens.
Rendered powerful by their confidence and his
own military atchievements, he, at length, became
the destroyer of that cause, under the banners of
which he had pretended to fight.
The Gracchi were born plebeians, though en-
nobled by their fathers’ honours, and their mothers’
illustrious descent. Bold, eloquent, and ambitious,
Tiberius Gracchus was well qualified to engage the
affections of the people. Ardent in the cause of
liberty, he beheld, in the unbridled luxury of the
rich and the encroaching arrogance of the nobles,
sufficient reasons to attempt the increase of demo-
cratic influence. With this view, he endeavoured
to revive the agrarian law, for the division of con-
quered and bequeathed lands among the people.
Inflamed by the spirit of party and the desire of
humbling their superiors, the people listened greedi-
ly to the flattering proposal. The rich and the
patricians as strongly resented the measure. The
contention of parties became truly alarming. At
this period, Tiberius Gracchus solicited the office
of the Tribuneship. He was elected along with
Octavius. His passions and ambition now arose
to a dangerous height. Hurried on by the spirit of
party and a sanguine disposition, he violated a fun-
damental principle of the constitution, by degrading,
his colleague Octavius; who opposed his measures,
as destructive innovations on the long established
16 On Party-Prejudice.
forms of the state. By turns he alarmed, soothed,
and inflamed his party. Rome, now, became di-
‘vided into factions; and none but violent measures
were adopted on any side. Tiberius offered a se-
cond time for the tribuneship. This daring innova-
tion on the laws of his country, in attempting to es-
tablish a perpetuity of the tribunitian power in one
person, excited the utmost indignation of the vio-
lent,—alarmed the moderate,—and brought conten-
tion to a dreadful crisis! —The senate opposing force
to force, the contest terminated in the destruction
of Tiberius and his adherents. After this disgrace-
ful violation of the laws of the state by both parties,
tranquillity was for a time restored.
Caius Gracchus, not long alter, renewed this
scene of anarchy and injustice. Impelled by that
ardent zeal for liberty, and aided by the same po-
pular talents which distinguished his brother; and,
perhaps, further instigated by a spirit of revenge, he
trod in the same unhappy path which had led to the
destruction of Tiberius. He aspired to the tribune-
ship, and was elected. Then grown giddy by the |
applause, and relying with fatal security on the pro-
tection of the people, he became a candidate, a se-
cond time, for tribunitian honours. He was opposed
by the nobles; and, the people abandoning his cause,
he miserably perished in the attempt.
If we trace the history of parties in free states,
from the earliest periods of regular government,
"eS ae
On Party-Prejudice. 17
down to modern times, we shall find,—that, so far
as those parties were governed by the superior as-
cendency of any distinguished individual; and from
that cause, proved fatal to the tranquillity and liber-
ties of a state, the examples just recited, will ex-
hibit the leading features which have characterized.
all party-chiefs, and their followers. An important
lesson may, hence, be taught to the adherents of par-
ty, in all free states. The danger arising, from a
prejudiced and blind attachment to these s* Gods of
their idolatry,” ought to be forcibly impressed on
their minds. That state must be sunk to the lowest
ebb of profligacy, in which a Catiline and his asso-
ciates, should succeed in their attempts against its
liberties. Fear and dismay are capable of producing
a temporary dereliction of the support of order and
freedom, in a government composed, for the most
part, of able and virtuous citizens; but (as happen-
ed at Rome) they will, at length, rally around the
constitution of their country, and annihilate the
daring disturbers of public tranquillity. The exam-
ple of an open and criminal attack against the con-
stitution of any government, by a party notoriously
infamous; and whose avowed purpose is the destruc-
tion of social order, and of respected and establish-
ed forms, requires only to be held up to view to be
detested. But when dissentions among the separate °
orders of a mixed state are founded upon principle,
and supported by leaders of character and abilities,
VOL. Vv. a
18 On Party-Prejudice,
then the danger arising from party-prejudice be-
comes truly alarming. It is probable, that Tiberius
Gracchus was, at first, influenced by a patriotic de-
sire of maintaining an equipoise between the demo-
cratical and aristocratical branches of the state.
Actuated by the same motive, many moderate mem-
bers of the aristocracy joined his party. Legal and
constitutional means of redress were for a while
adopted. But these were too slow for the heated
passions and encreasing ambition of Tiberius. He
displayed the genuine character of an ambitious,
popular, party-chief—Spurning at a moderate de-
gree of success, and neglecting the salutary lessons of
experience, he attempted to overleap, at one bound,
the interval which separated him from the attainment
of his object; and thus, by adopting summary and
violent, instead of slow and moderate means, he risked
the success of his enterprise. Happy would it have
been for his country had the evil stopped here!
But the demon of discord once let loose, the abet-
tors of the rights of the people and their opponents
equally assisted in staining their cause with crimes
and factious outrage. For a recourse to party-
violence for redress, upon a violation of the laws of
justice and the constitution, having once been és-
tablished, contributed to corrupt the morals of the’
people, and destroy that relish for rational liber-
ty, which had ever distinguished the republic. It
is easy to plunge into faction; but difficult to ré-
7
On Party-Prejudice> 19
store order and tranquillity. Had it not been for
party-prejudice, there can be little doubt, but such
regulations of the agrarian law would have taken
place, as to have raised to a due degree the demo-
cratical influence. By these means, the preponde-
rating scale of patrician power would have been
properly balanced, and the. constitution brought
back to those irs principles, which had given it
stability and splendour. The Gracchi then, in-
stead of meriting the appellation of factious and
ambitious demagogues, would have deserved the
glorious title of defenders of the liberties of their
country. It is the remark of Plutarch: “ With
such citizens as the Gracchi, Marius, Cinna, dc. it
was difficult to preserve a republic; but with such
as Cesar or Pompey impossible.” This observa
tion will not apply to the most flourishing periods of
the perfection and republican grandeur of the Ro-
man commonwealth. The liberties of a people un-
‘der such circumstances, are more in danger from the
party-zeal and ambition of a Tiberius Gracchus,
than from the splendid atchievements and artful ad-
dress of a Cesar. For, in all mixed’ governments,
while the people possess sufficient patriotism, to be
more anxious in preserving the fundamental princi-
ples of the constitution, than attending to the nar-
row and selfish views of party, they will reject bribes.
with indignation; look upon victories with jealousy ;
and carefully.watch over the conduct of an aspirs
20 On Party-Prejudice.
ing and exalted character. In order to secure their
countenance and support, it will be necessary to as-
sume the appearance of a patriotic zeal, in support-
ing the privileges of, and regulating the balance of
power between the separate orders of the state. Self.
denial, and austerity in conduct and manners, must
be practised to lull suspicion. By these arts Tiber-
ius Gracchus exalted the power of one branch of
the state upon the ruins of the other; and thus in-
troduced anarchy, party-virulence, and a habit of in-
surrection. The foundations of the republic, by
these means, were secretly undermined; and the
whole edifice, soon after, tumbled into pieces, when
assaulted by the vigorous and well-timed attack of
Cesar. Tiberius Gracchus, Marius, Cinna, and
other factious leaders, may be considered merely as
caterers for Cesar. Like the jackal, they hunted
down the prey, to be devoured by the lion!
If we direct our attention to the Grecian demo-
cracies, we shall find ample matter for reflection
in the evils introduced by party-prejudice. The
same causes, which corrupted the integrity of the
citizens and destroyed the liberties of Rome, pro-
duced similar fatal effects among the Grecian states.
Ambition, avarice, and party-malice reigned every
where triumphant.
These are the causes which Thucydides* assigns
* Thucydid, p. 218, Ed, Duk.
On Party-Prejudice. 24
for all the dreadful factions that ravaged Greece
during the Peloponesian war. ‘ The source of
all these evils,” he remarks, “ is a thirst of power,’
in consequence of either rapacious or ambitious
passions. The mind, when thus actuated, is ready
to engage in party-feuds. For the men of large in-
fluence in Communities, avowing on both sides a
specious cause ;—some standing up for the just
equality of the popular;—others for the fair de.
corum of the aristocratical government ;—by artful
sounds embarrassed those communities for their
own private ends.”
In proportion, however, to the pure democracy,*
which prevailed in any state, did the spirit of party
arise to a dangerous height. Lycurgus had given
to Sparta a mixed form of government. Its tran-
quillity therefore was better preserved, and its du-
ration extended to a longer period than that of any
of the pure democratical states. It is the observa-
tion of Aristotle, t that in mixed governments,
like Sparta, party prevailed less (i. e. in comparison
with the other Grecian states), though the power of
the state was divided into separate branches. For
* * Dans les états extrémement libres, ils trahissent la
liberté 4 cause de leur liberté méme, qui produissent tou-
jours des divisions ;—chacun deviendroit aussi esclave des
préjugés de sa faction, qu’il le seroit d’un despote,”—
MonrTeEsQuiev.
+ Aristot, Polit. lib. v. cap. 9.
22 On Party-Prejudice.
Theopompus acted with great moderation, as, among
many other regulations, he instituted the Ephori ;
“and thus, by depriving the royal authority of some
of its weight, added to its stability. Instead of
lessening, he exalted himself. It is reported, that,
when his wife asked, *if he did not blush to be-
queath to his children an authority more-crippled
than that he had received from his ancestor?’ he re-
plied ‘no: for I leave it greater, because more du-.
rable.’
In despotic governments, where the will of the
prince is the supreme law, party-prejudices on po-
litical subjects seldom arise. The people may re-
volt against the cruelties of an unfeeling tyrant; or
they may be induced by a factious chief to depose
the despot, and raise their leader to his throne.
But, though their ruler be changed, their prin-
ciples remain, They hug willingly the chains im-
posed by themselves; and, if they should prove
highly galling, they may be again induced to break
them, but will not fail to call in the aid of another
tyrant to rivet them faster than ever!
A monarchical government, among a highly ci-
vilized people, may admit of some diversities of
opinion, but party-prejudice can have little influ-
ence in destroying private or public tranquillity.
Remove a minister—kindle an external war—pro-
mote a taste for frivolous amusements, and the pet-
ty murmurs of opposition are generally silenced.
On Party-Prejudice. 23
Indeed if the monarchy be feebly ruled, parties may
arise threatening, in appearance, the subversion of
the state; but as they depend, for the most part,
on the contemptible struggles for places and profit
among their respective leaders; they become ridi-
culous in the eyes of the people, and terminate in
disgrace and ruin. In the civil war of France,
nicknamed the Fronde,* during the minority of
Louis x1v, the ladies are well known to have di-
rected the political intrigues and conduct of the
different parties. |
The frequent union of religious with political
* See “]’ Histoire de Fronde,” and the ** Memoirs de
Cardinai Retz,” passim.
- The French seem to have been forced inta sedition
through the mere effect of caprice and sport. The wo-
men ruled every faction. Love formed as well as destroyed
cabals, The Dutchess of Longueville prevailed on Tu-
renne (who had just been created a mareschal) to endea-
vour to corrupt the army he commanded for the king.
But he quitted as a fugztive the army he had commanded
as a general, to please-a capricious woman, who made a jest
of his passion.
Even the philosophic Rochefoucault acknowledged no
other leader but the god of love (or rather of gallantry), as
his senseless (although celebrated) verses, addressed to the
Dutchess of Longueville (written immediately after hav-
ing nearly lost his sight by a musquet ball, during the war
of the Fronde) sufficiently prove.— ;
‘¢ Pour mériter son cceur, pour plaire a ses beaux yeux,
J'ai faite la guerre aux roix, je l’aurois faite aux dicux.”
24 On Party-Prejudice.
prejudice, among the members of free states, and
the mischiefs resulting therefrom are much to be
deplored. Religious bigotry may so far inflame
the passions of subjects, even of despotical and
monarchical governments, as to establish’ parties,
filled with the most rancourous prejudices against
each other; and also induce them to depose the law-
ful monarch from the throne. *
If we consult the pages of Davila, and other
writers on the war of the League (a war carried on
for the avowed purpose of extirpating liberty of con-
science, and establishing a bigotted and persecuting
system of religion throughout France), we shall find
as many instances of party-prejudices destroying
the happiness of individuals, and distracting the
state with factions, as ever disgraced the annals of
the most licentious democracies. Indeed when we
contemplate the fanatical bigotry, refined malice,
and blood-thirsty dispositions of the priests who ap-
plauded, and the prince who executed the mas-
* The fate of Henry the 4th of France, and the tran-
sactions of religious parties during the civil war, previous
to his being crowned, are sufficiently known. Sully, in
his memoirs, relates an anecdote of his aunt, Madame de
Mastin, which strongly exemplifies the power of religious
Prejudice. The reason she gave for disinheriting her ne-
phew, was—“ because he neither believed in God nor his
saints, but worshiped the Devil.’”? This was the notion
she had received of protestants from her confessor.
On Party-Prejudice. 25
sacres and assassinations of a St. Bartholomew’s day,
we are compelled to cry out with the poet—
** Tantum religio potuit suadere malorum !”
If religious bigotry do not rage so fiercely in free
states, where toleration is established, yet religious
and political prejudices are frequently united.
When this union takes place, political prejudice ac-
quires a tenfold malignancy. A spirit of rancour
and persecuting zeal will infallibly widen the breach,
which ambition or interest has created. Toleration
does not, indeed, permit one sect to cram down
the throats of another, with the point of the sword,
its religious faith and discipline! Nor does it think
fit, that orthodox zeal should attempt to illuminate
the minds of heretics, by fires kindled with the bodies
of their brethren! Such methods have been tried;
but the experiment often proved dangerous and un-
successful. ‘There is scarcely a bigot of the present
day, in Spain or Portugal, that would not detest
the barbarous absurdity of such practices. Yet
such is the weakness of the human mind, and the
‘strength of prejudice, that, notwithstanding its own
full enjoyment of freedom of opinion and the bless-
ings of liberty, it will often survey, with mingled
scorn and hatred, the followers of another faith.
And from hence it follows, that calumny, acrimo-.
nious controversies, and odious names, descriptive
of a sect, have been productive of greater mischief
to the people and government of tolerant and free
VOL. Vv. D
26 On Party-Prejudice,
states, than ever was accomplished by a display of
auto-da-fés, dragooning, or any other mode of
persecution practised by arbitrary and intolerant
governments! The latter evils occur only at dis-
tant intervals; but the former never cease to exist.
If a contrariety of conduct were necessarily con-
nected with a difference in theological tenets, the
malice and uncharitableness of the followers of dif.
ferent sects might readily be explained; «« but,” as
a celebrated writer* observes, % where the diffe-
rence of opinion is not accompanied with a contra-
riety of action, each being allowed to follow his own
way, as happens in religious controversy, what
madness to create divisions!” ;
Religious prejudices ought carefully to be guard-
ed against in the education of youth. For, if they
have been suffered to spring up in alliance with po-
litical party-prejudice, it is with the utmost difficul-
ty they can be weeded out of the mind. If these
associations be not destroyed, the purest benevo-
lence of disposition will be likely to degenerate
into a hatred of man, as a mistaken zeal for the
honour of the Deity + will be joined to a concern
* Hume’s “ Essay on Parties in general,’
+t Montesquieu relates the following instance of a mis-
taken and blasphemous idea of avenging the Deity, as
having happened in France during the 16th century: “a
Jew, accused of blasphemy against the holy Virgin, was
condemned to be flayed: several Gentlemen armed with
On Party-Prejudice. 27
for the interests of a party. In a moral point of
view, the cherishing of such unworthy sentiments is
highly pernicious. Detraction and calumny are
the sure product of religious bigotry; and, as a
keen observer * of human nature has remarked,
* a disposition to calumny is too bad a thing to be
the only thing that is bad in us. It is too splen-
did a vice not to be accompanied with a large train
of attendants.” Ina political view, religious pre-
judices are very injurious; they tend to keep alive
a spirit of faction; and the evils arising from dis-
union among the members of a free state, are suf-
ficiently proclaimed by history.
Lord Shaftesbury has observed, “ that a public
spirit can only come from a social feeling, or sense of
partnership with human kind.” If this assertion be
well founded, it proves the necessity of being
‘guarded against religious prejudices. For to sour
the “ milk of human kindness”— to break a pow-
erful link in the chain of social feeling, which
binds man to man; and to sow distrust, hatred, and
all uncharitableness among human beings, is the
peculiar operation of religious bigotry and preju-
dice!
knivesanounted the scaffold, and drove away the execu-
tioner, in order that they might themselves avenge the
honour of the blessed Virgin! 1”?
* Dr. Ogden,
28
EXTRAORDINARY FACTS
relating to the
Vision of Colours:
WITH OBSERVATIONS.
BY MR. JOHN DALTON.
READ OCT, 31ST, 1704.
I has been observed, that our ideas of colours,
sounds, tastes, &c. excited by the same object may
be very different in themselves, without our being
aware of it; and that we may nevertheless converse
intelligibly concerning such objects, as if we were
certain the impressions made by them on our minds
were exactly similar. All, indeed, that is required
for this purpose, is, that the same object should
uniformly make the same impression on each mind ;
and that objects which appear different to one should
be equally so to others. It will, however, scarcely
be supposed, that any two objects, which are every
day before us, should appear hardly distinguishable
to one person, and very different to another, with-
out the circumstance immediately suggesting a diffe-
rence in their faculties of vision; yet such is the fact,
not only with regard to myself, but to many others
also, as will appear in the following account.
I was always of opinion, though I might not of-
On the Vision of Colours. 29
ten mention it, that several colours were injudici-
ously named. The term pink, in reference to the
flower of that name, seemed proper enough; but
when the term red was substituted for pink, I
thought it highly improper; it should have been
blue, in my apprehension, as pink and blue appear
to me very nearly allied; whilst pink and red have
scarcely any relation.
In the course of my application to the sciences, that
~ of optics necessarily claimed attention; and I became
pretty well acquainted with the theory of light and co-
lours before I was apprized of any peculiarity in my
vision. I had not, however, attended much to the
practical discrimination of colours, owing, in some
degree, to what I conceived to be a perplexity in
their nomenclature. Since the year 1790, the occa-
sional study of botany obliged me to attend more to
colours than before. With respect to colours that
were white, yellow, or green, I readily assented to the
appropriate term. Blue, purple, pink, and crimson
appeared rather less distinguishable; being, accord-
ing to my idea, all referable to blue. I have often
seriously asked a person whether a flower was blue
or pink, but was generally considered to be in jest.
Notwithstanding this, I was never convinced of a
peculiarity in my vision, till I accidentally observed
the colour of the flower of the Geranium zonale by
candle-light, in the Autumn of 1792. The flower
was pink, but it appeared to me almost an exact
30 On the Vision of Colours.
sky-blue by day; in candle-light, however, it was
astonishingly changed, not having then any blue in
it, but being what I called red, a colour which forms
a striking contrast to blue. Not then doubting but
that the change of colour would be equal to all, I
requested some of my friends to observe the phe-
nomenon; when I was surprised to find they all
agreed, that the colour was not materially different
from what it was by day-light, except my brother
who saw it in the same light as myself. This ob-
servation clearly proved, that my vision was not
like that of other persons;—and, at the same time,
that the difference’ between day-light and candle-
light, on some colours, was indefinitely more per-
ceptible to me than to others. It was nearly two
years after that time, when I entered upon an inves-
tigation of the subject, having procured the assist-
ance of a friend, who, to his acquaintance with the
theory of colours, joins a practical knowledge of
their names and constitutions. I shall now proceed
to state the facts ascertained under the three follow-
ing heads:
J. An account of my own vision.
II. An account of others whose vision has been
' found similar to mine.
III. Observations on the probable cause of our
anomalous vision.
I. OF MY OWN VISION.
It may be proper to observe, that I am short-
On the Vision of Colours. 34
sighted. Concave glasses of about five inches focus
suit me best. I can see distin€tly at a proper dis-
tance; and am seldom hurt by too much or too lit-
tle light ; nor yet with long application.
My observations began with the solar spectrum,
or coloured image of the sun, exhibited ina dark
- room by means of a glass prism. I found that per-
sons in general distinguish six kinds of colour in
the solar image; namely, red, orange, yellow, green,
blue, and purple. Newton, indeed, divides the pur-
ple into indigo and violet; but the difference be-
tween him and others is merely nominal. To me
it is quite otherwise:—I see only ¢wo or at most
three distinctions. These I should call yellow and
blue; or yellow, blue, and purple. My yellow com-
prehends the red, orange, yellow, and green of others ;
and my blue and purple coincide with theirs. That
part of the image which others call red, appears to
me little more than a shade, or defect of light ; after
that the orange, yellow, and green seem one colour,
which descends pretty uniformly from an intense to
a rare yellow, making what I should call different
shades of yellow. , The difference between the green
part and the yeH#sw part is very striking to my eye:
they seem to be strongly contrasted. That between
the blue and purple is much less so. The purple
appears to be blue much darkened and condensed.’
In viewing the flame of a candle by night through
the prism, the appearances are pretty much the same,
32 On the Vision of Colours.
except that the red extremity of the image appears
more vivid than that of the solar image.
I now proceed to state the results of my observa-
tions on the colours of bodies in general, whether
natural or artificial, both by day-light and candle-
‘ light. I mostly used ribbands for the artificial
colours.
RED,
(By day-light.)
Under this head I include crimson, scarlet, red, -
and gink. - All crimsons appear to me to consist
chiefly of dark blue; but many of them seem to
have a strong tinge of dark brown. _I have seen
‘specimens of crimson, claret, and mud, which
were very nearly alike. Crimson has a grave ap-
pearance, being the reverse of every shewy and
splendid colour. Woollen yarn dyed crimson or
dark blue is the same tome. Pink seems to be
composed. of nine parts of light blue, and one of
red, or some colour which has no other effect
than to make the light blue appear dull and faded a
little. Pink and light blue therefore compared to-
gether, are to be distinguished no otherwise than as
a splendid colour from one that tias-lost a little of
its splendour. Besides the pinks, roses, &c. of the
gardens, the following British flora appear to me
blue; namely, Statice Armeria, Trifolium pratense,
Lychnis Flos-cuculi, Lychnis dioica, and many of the
Gerania. The colour of a florid complexion ap-
On the Vision of Colours. 33
pears to me that of a dull, opake, blackish blue, upon
a white ground. A solution of-sulphate of iron in
the tincture of galls (that is, dilute black ink) upon
white paper, gives a colour much resembling that
of a florid complexion. It has no resemblance of
the colour of blood. Red and scarlet form a genus
with me totally different from pink. My idea of
red I obtain from vermilion, minium, sealing wax,
wafers, a soldier’s uniform, &c. These seem to
have no blue whatever inthem. Scarlet has a more
splendid appearance than red. Blood appears to
me red; but it differs much from the articles men-
tioned above. It is much more dull, and to me is
not unlike that colour called bottle-green. Stock-
ings spotted with blood or with dirt would scarcely
be distinguishable.
(By candle-light.)
Red and scarlet appear much more vivid than
by day. Crimson loses its blue and becomes yel-
lowish red. Pink is by far the most changed; in-
deed it forms an excellent contrast to what it is by
day. No blue now appears; yellow has taken its
place. Pink by candle-light seems to be three parts
yellow and one red, ora reddish yellow. The blue,
however, is less mixed by day than the yellow by
night. Red, and particularly scarlet, is a superb
colour by candle-light; but by day some reds are
VOL. Vv, E
34 On the Vision of Colours.
the least shewy imaginable: I should call them dark
drabs.
ORANGE & YELLOW,
( By day-light and candle-light.)
I do not find that I differ materially from other
persons in regard to these colours. I have some-
times seen persons hesitate whether a thing was white
or yellow by candle-light, when to me there was no
doubt at all.
GREEN. |
(By day-light.)
I take my standard idea from grass. This ap-
apears to’ me very little different from red. The
face of alaurel-leaf ( Prunus Lauro-cerasus ) isa good
match to a stick of red sealing-wax; and the back
of the leaf answers to the lighter red of wafers.
Hence it will be immediately concluded, that I see
either red or green, or both, different from. other
people. The fact is, I believe that they both ap-
pear different to me from what they do to others.
Green and orange have much affinity also. Apple
green is the most pleasing kind to me; and any
other that has a tinge of yellow appears to advan-
tage. I can distinguish the different vegetable
greens one from another as well as most people;
and those which are nearly alike or very unlike to
others are so to me. A decoction of bohea tee.
a solution of liver of sulphur, ale, &c. &c. which’
On the Vision of Colours, 35
others call brown, appear to me green. Green
woollen cloth, such as is used to cover tables, ap-
pears to me a dull, dark, brownish red colour. A
mixture of two parts mud and one red would come
near it. It resembles a red soil just turned up by
the plough. When this kind of cloth loses its co-
lour, as other people say, and turns yellow, then it
appears to mea pleasant green. Very light green
paper, silk, &c, is white to me,
GREEN.
( By candle-light.)
I agree with others, that it is difficult to distin-
guish greens from blues by candle-light; but, with
me, the greens only are altered and made to ap-
proach the blues, It is the real greens only that are
altered in my eye; and not such as I confound with
them by day-light, as the brown liquids abovemen-
' tioned, which are not at all tinged with blue by
candle-light, but are the same as by day, except that
they are paler.
BLUE, |
( By day-light and candle-light. )
_ IL apprehend this colour appears very nearly the
same to. me as to other people, both by day-light
and candle-light.
PURPLE,
(By day-light and candle-light. )
This seems to me a slight modification of blue,
36 On the Vision of Colours.
I seldom fail to distinguish purple from blue; but
should hardly suspect purple to be a compound of
blue and red. The difference between- day-light
and candle-light is not material.
MISCELLANEOUS OBSERVATIONS,
Colours appear to me much the same by moon-
light, as they do by candle-light. *
Colours viewed by lightning appear the same as
by day-light; but whether exactly so, I have not as-
certained. |
Colours seen by electric light appear to me the
same as by day-light. That is, pink appears blue,
&e.
Colours viewed through a transparent sky-blue
liquid, by candle-light, appear to me as well as to
others the same as by day-light.
Most of the colours called drabs appear. to me
the same by day-light and candle-light.
A light drab woollen cloth seems to me to re-
semble a light green by day. These colours are,
however, easily distinguished by candle-light, as the
latter becomes tinged with blue, which the former
does not. I have frequently seen colours of the drab
kind, said to be nearly alike, which appeared to me
very different. wedi .
* Mr. Boyle observed colours by moon-light to differ
from those by day-light, Priestley on Vision, p. 145.
a ot
On the Vision of Colours. 37
My idea of brown I obtain from a piece of white
paper heated almost to ignition. This colour by
day-light seems to have a great affinity to green, as
may be imagined from what I have said of greens.
Browns seem to me very diversified; some I should
call red:—dark brown woollen cloth I should call
black.
The light of the rising or setting sun has no par-
ticular. effect; neither has a strong or weak light.
Pink appears rather duller, all other circumstances
alike, in a cloudy day. °
All common combustible substances exhibit co-
lours to mein the same light; namely, ¢allow, oil,
wax, pit-coal.
_ My vision has always been.as it is now.
IJ], AN ACCOUNT OF OTHERS WHOSE VISION
HAS BEEN FOUND SIMILAR TO MINE,
It has been already observed that my brother per-
ceived the change in the colour of the geranium such
as myself. Since that time having made a great
number of observations on colours, by comparing
their similarities, &c. by day-light and candle-light,
in conjunction with him, I find that we see as near-
ly alike as any other persons do. He is shorter
sighted than myself.
As soon as these facts were ascertained, I con-
ceived the design of laying our case of vision before
38. On the Vision of Colours,
the public, apprehending it to be a singular one, ~ I
remembered, indeed, to have read in the Philosophi-
cal Transactions for 1777, an account of Mr,
Harris of Maryport in Cumberland,* who, it was
said, ** could not distinguish colours;” but his casé
appeared to be different from ours. Considering,
however, that one anomaly in vision may tend to
illustrate another, I reperused the account; when it
appeared extremely probable that if his vision had
been fully investigated, and a relation of it given in
the first person, he would have agreed with me,
There were four brothers in the same predica-
ment, one of whom is now living. Having an ac-
quaintance in Maryport, I solicited him to pro-
pose a few queries to the survivor, which he
readily did (in conjunction with another brother,
whose vision has nothing peculiar), and from the
answers transmitted to me, I could no. longer
doubt of the similarity of our cases. To render it
still more circumstantial, I sent about twenty speci-
mens of different coloured ribbands, with direc-
tions to make observations upon them by day-light
and candle-light: the result was exactly conformable
to my expectation.
It then appeared to me probable, that a consider-
able number of individuals might be found whose
.°* A translation of this account, to whichis annexed
the extraordinary case of M. Colardeau, is inserted in
Rozier: Observations sur la Physique, Sc. p. 87. E.H,
On the Vision of Colours. 39
vision differed from that of the generality, but at
the same time agreed with my own. Accordingly
I have since taken every opportunity to explain the
circumstances amongst my acquaintance, and have
found several in the same predicament. Only one or
two I have heard of who differ from the generality
and from us also. It is remarkable that, out of
twenty-five pupils I once had, to whom I ex-
plained this subject, two were found to agree with
me; and, on another similar occasion, one. Like
myself, they could see no material difference betwixt
pink and light blue by day, but a striking contrast
by candle-light. And, on a fuller investigation, I
could not perceive they differed from me materially
in other colours. They, like all the rest of us, were
not aware of their actually seeing colours different
from other people; but imagined there was great
perplexity in the names ascribed to particular co-
lours. I think I have been informed already of near-
ly twenty persons whose vision is like mine. The
family at Maryport consisted of six sons and one
daughter; four of the sons were in the predicament
in question. Our family consisted of three sons
and one daughter who arrived at maturity ; of whom
two sons are circumstanced as I have described. The
others are mostly individuals in families, some of:
which are numerous. I do not find that the pa-
rents or children in any of the instances have been
so, unless in one case. Nor have I been able to
discover any physical cause whatever for it. Our
40 On ihe Vision of Colours.
vision, except as to colours, is as clear and distinct
as that of other persons. Only two or three are
short sighted. It is remarkable that I have not
heard of one female subject to this peculiarity.
From a great variety of observations made with
many of the abovementioned persons, it does not
appear to me that we differ more from one another
than persons in general do. We certainly agree in
the principal facts which characterize our vision, and
which I have attempted to point out below. It is
but justice to observe here, that several of the re-
semblances and comparisons mentioned in the pre-
ceding part of this paper were first suggested to me
by one or other of the parties, and found to accord
with my own ideas..
CHARACTERISTIC FACTS OF OUR VISION,
i. In the solar spectrum three colours appear,
yellow, blue, and purple. The two former make a
contrast; the two latter seem to differ more in de-
gree than in kind.
2. Pink appears, by day-light, to be sky-blue
a little faded; by candle-light it assumes an orange
or yellowish appearance, which forms a strong con-
trast to blue. ,
_ 3. Crimson appears a muddy blue by day; and
crimson woollen yarn is much the same as dark
blue.
4. Red and Scarlet have a more vivid and fla-
ming appearance by candle-light than by day-ligh
in = fl RB. .
On the Vision of Colours. At
5. There is not much difference in colour be-
tween a stick of red sealing wax and grass, by day.
6. Dark green woollen cloth seems a muddy red,
much darker than grass, and of a very different
colour.
7. The colour of a florid complexion is dusky
blue.
8. Coats, gowns, écc. appear to us frequently to
be badly matched with linings, when others say they
are not. On the other hand, we should match
crimsons with claret or mud; pinks with light blues;
browns with reds; and drabs with greens.
g: In all points where we differ from other per-
sons, the difference is much less by candle-light than
by day-light.
III. OBSERVATIONS TENDING TO POINT
OUT THE CAUSE OF OUR ANOMALOUS VI-
SION.
The first time I was enabled to form a plausible
idea of the cause of our vision, was after observing
that a sky-blue transparent liquid modified the light
of a candle so as to make it similar to day-light;
and, of course, restored to pink its proper colour
by day, namely, light blue. This was an impor-
tant observation. At the same time that it exhibit- °
ed the effect of a transparent coloured medium in
the modification of colours, it seemed to indicate
VOL. V. F
42 On the Vision of Colours,
the analogy of solar light to that resulting from com-
bustion; and that the former is modified by the
transparent blue atmosphere, as the latter is by the
transparent blue liquid. Now the effect of a trans-
parent coloured medium, as Mr. Delaval has prov-
ed, is to transmit more, and consequently imbibe
fewer of the rays of its own colour, than of those of
other colours. Reflecting upon these facts, I was
led to conjecture that one of the humours of my
eye must be a transparent, but coloured, medium,
so constituted as to absorb red and green rays prin-
cipally, because I obtain no proper ideas of these in
the solar spectrum; and to transmit blue and other
colours more perfectly. What seemed to make
against this opinion however was, that I thought red
bodies, such as vermilion, should appear black to
me, which was contrary to fact. How this difficulty
was obviated will be understood from what follows.
Newton has sufficiently ascertained, that opake
bodies are of a particular colour from their reflect-
ing the rays of light of that colour more copiously
than those of the other colours; the unreflected rays
being absorbed by the bodies. Adopting this fact,
we are insensibly led to conclude, that the more rays
of any one colour a body reflects, and the fewer of
every other colour, the more perfect will be the
-colour. This conclusion, however, is certainly er-
roneous. Splendid coloured bodies reflect light of
every colour copiously ; but that of their own most
—
On the Vision of Colours. 43
so. Accordingly we find, that bodies of all colours,
when placed in homogeneal light of any colour, ap-
pear of that particular colour. Hence a body that
is red may appear of any other colour to an eye that
does not transmit red, according as those other co-
lours are more copiously reflected from the body,
or transmitted through the humours of the eye.
It appears therefore almost beyond a doubt, that
one of the humours of my eye, and of the eyes of my
fellows, is a coloured medium, probably some modi-
fication of blue. I suppose it must be the vitreous
humour; otherwise I apprehend it might be disco-
vered by inspection, which has not been done. It
is the province of physiologists to explain in what
manner the humours of the eye may be coloured,
and to them I shall leave it; and proceed to shew
that the hypothesis will explain the facts stated in the
conclusion of the second part.
1. This needs no further illustration.
2. Pink is known to bea mixture of red and
blue; that is, these two colours are reflected in ex-
cess. Our eyes only transmit the blue excess, which
causes it to appear blue; a few red rays pervading
the eye may serve to give the colour that faded ap-
pearance. In candle-light, red and orange, or some
other of the higher colours, are known to abound
more proportionably than in day-light. The orange
light reflected may therefore exceed the blue, and
the compound colour consist of red and orange,
44 On the Vision of Colours.
Now, the red being most copiously reflected, the
colour will be recognized by a common eye un-
der this smal! modification; but the red not appear-
_ ing to us, we see chiefly the orange excess: it is
consequently to us not a modification but a new
colour.
3. By a similar method of reasoning, crzmson,
being compounded of red and dark blue, must as-
sume the appearances I have described.
4. Bodies that are red and scarlet probably re-
flect orange and yellow in greatest plenty, next af-
ter red. The orange and yellow, mixed with a few
red rays, will give us our idea of red, which is
heightened by candle-light, because the orange is
then more abundant.
5. Grass-green is probably compounded of green,
yellow, and orange, with more or less blue. Our
idea of it will then be obtained piincipally from the
yellow and orange mixed with a few green rays.
It appears, therefore, that red and green to us will
be nearly alike. I do not, however, understand,
why the greens should assume a bluish appearance
to us and to every body else, by candle-light, when
it should seem that candle-light is deficient in blue.
6. The green rays not being perceived by us, the
remaining rays may, for aught that is known, com-
pound a muddy red.
_ 4. The observations upon the phenomena of
pink and crimson, will explain this fact.
On the Vision of Colours. 45
8. Suppose a body to reflect red rays as the num-
ber 8, orange rays as the number 6, and blue as 5;
and another body red 8, orange 6, and blue 6: then
it is evident that a common eye, attending principal-
ly to the red, would see little difference in those co-
lours; but we, who form our ideas of the colours
from the orange and blue, should perceive the latter
to be bluer than the former. .
g- From the whole of this paper it is evident,
that our eyes admit blue rays in greater proportion
than those of other people; therefore when any kind
of light is less abundant in blue, as is the case with
candle-light compared to day-light, our eyes serve
in some degree to temper that light, so as to reduce
it nearly to the common standard. This seems to
be the reason why colours appear to us by candle-
light, almost as they do to others by day-light.
I shall conclude this paper by observing, that it
appears to me extremely probable, that the sun’s
light and candle-light, or that which we commonly
obtain from combustion, are originally constituted
alike; and that the earth’s atmosphere is properly:
a blue fluid, and modifies the sun’s light so as to
occasion the commonly perceived difference.
46
An Enouiry into the Name of the Foun-
der of HULN ABBEY, Northumberland,
the first in England of the Order of Carme-
lites: with Remarks on Dr. Ferriar’s Ac-
count of the Monument zn the Church of |
that Monastery. By Rospert UVveEDALE,
B. A. of Trinity College, Cambridge, Cor-
responding Member of the Literary and Phi-
losophical Socuety, M anchester.
Addressed to Dr, PERcIVAL.
READ APRIL 10TH, 1795»
Sir,
I have taken the liberty to send you some
observations on Dr. Ferriar’s account of the monu-
ment in Huln Abbey, published in vol. 111 of the
Memoirs of the society over which you preside; re-
_lying on you to communicate them to the society, if
"they should be thought in any degree to merit such
honour. Not doubting Dr. Ferriar’s impartiality,
I hope he will not be displeased at any thing which
may seem to militate against him,
Dr. Ferriar informs us, that an ancient monu-
ment has been discovered in the church of Huln
Abbey, which, he supposes, was intended to com-
On the Founder of Huln Abbey, €c. 47
memorate the founder of that monastery; and far-
ther observes, that, “ in the old plan of the abbey,
first published by Mr. Grose, it is marked as the
founder's tomb.” He gives a circumstantial ac-
count of the founding of the abbey; and appre-
hends, that the title of founder could only belong to
William de Vescy.
Nevertheless, as it seems yet undecided ft was
the founder (a point on which some of the best an-
tiquaries disagree) this memoir will be, not improper-
ly, divided into two parts: the r1Rsv containing
AN ENQUIRY INTO THE NAME OF THE FOUN.
; DER OF HULN ABBEY.
Huln in Northumberland is generally supposed
to have been the first monastery in this kingdom of
the Carmelites:* an order of mendicant friars, deriv-
ing their name and origin from Mount Carmel in
Syria.
Camden is of opinion, that John, Lord Vescy,
founded Huln Abbey: Foannes autem Vescy, e bello
sacro rediens, Carmelitas secum primus in Anglam
adduxit ; zllisque hic, im Holne solitudine non dissi-
mult Carmelo Monti in Syria, conventum extruxit.t
* Leland de Script, Britan. p, 293. Stevens, 11. 1575
158. ;
+ Britannia, p. 669, edit. 1607. According to Sir Wil-
liam Dugdale (Warwickshire, p. 117), John de Vescy, of
Alnwick, brought the Carmelites into England ; and built
48 An Enqury into the Name of
On which Bishop Gibson observes, that there never
was any convent or monastery founded at Alnwick
or near it by John Vescy; and that the first convent
-of Carmelites was founded at Huln, near Alnwick,
by. Ralph Fresburn*. The editor of the last edition
of the Britannia seems likewise to think, that Huln
Abbey was founded by Fresburn. T
You will readily allow, sir, that in endeavouring
to illustrate obscure remains of antiquity, every cir-
cumstance should be minutely as well as deliberately
examined; and that reason and truth ought, as much
as possible, to predominate over partiality and pre-
judice. Had this been altogether the case in the in-
stance before us, Fresburn would never have been
for them the Monastery at Huln, on his return from the
Holy Land, 1250, 34 Hen. 111, Here it is observable, that
Dugdale differs from Leland and most other authors, who
assign 1240 as the year in which that abbey was founded.
Dugdale refers to Matt. Westm. who, I find, only says,
** Ordines multiplicabantur in Anglia, prater ordines pra-
dicatorum et minorum, videlicet fratres de Monte Car-
meli,” p. 348, in an. 1250. By which we are not to un-
derstand, that the Carmelites came into England in the
year 1250; for M. Westm. mentions also the Augustines
et multt alii, And that the Augustines, with many other
orders of friars, all came into this country A.D. 1250, is
not very credible, even if such a supposition had not been
contradictory to the best historical information,
* Gibson’s Camden, 11, 1094. 2d edit.
+ Gough’s Camden, 111, 258.
— ee ee
the Founder of Huln Abbey. 49
esteemed the founder of Huln Abbey; or, at least,
the learned antiquaries, who assert that he was the
founder, would have expressed their doubts as to the
circumstance. ;
With all proper deference then towards those
who differ from me in opinion, I shall venture to
affirm, that Fresburn has no just claim to the appel-
lation of founder of Huln monastery.
First: Because Bishop Gibson and others have
asserted Fresburn to have been the founder merely
on the authority of John Bale.
Secondly: Because, from Leland and Camden
and other authorities, it, would appear that John de
_Vescy was the founder.
I, The account of the founding of Huln abbey
in Gibson, Fuller, &c. and a considerable part of
Mr. Grose’s account, are wholly built on the au-
thority of John Bale. Mr. Grose adds, that Fres-
burn erected the buildings himself :* a circumstance
of which Bale, &c. makes not the least mention.
But errors will multiply if suffered to take root.
Let us hear what Bale himself says. In his fourth
century he tells us, that Fresburn laid the first foun-
dation in this kingdom of the order of Carmelites,
A. D. 1240; and that he died 1254.t In support
* Antiq. vol. 111,
+ Gibson, Grose, &c. say 1274$ but Leland. De obitu
ejus recte computare non possum,
VOL. V. Cc
50 An Enquiry into the Name of
of this account, he cites Mantuanus.* But it seems
Bale has, in great measure, “huddled up the cen-
turies of English writers from Leland; and, with
most prodigious slanders, has defiled the truth of
chronology, and of sie histories received from
that diligent antiquary.”+
Leland’s account is in many respects different:
he expressly says, that John Vescy founded ‘Huln
Abbey ;{ and he mentions Fresburn merely because
Scripsit non contemnenda, ut fama est, opuscula.|}
Fresburn and some other Englishmen lived at Mount
Carmel; and John Vescy and Richard Grey find-
ing them there presidem loci enixissime rogabant,
ut liceret tllos abducere; tandemque exorabant, sed
non alto nomine, quam ut fundamenta tam clare reli=
Etonrs in Angha jacerent.§
Amongst the Englishmen thus brought over into
England, Fresburn was placed at the head of the
society at Huln, and Radulph Ivo at the head of
Grey’s foundation at Ailsford: but neither Fres-
burn nor Ivo were the founders of those monas-
teries.
* Bapt. Mantuanus wrote 1498. He is quoted ey Le-
land,
+ Stevens, 11. 158.
t Collect. 1. p. 103.
|| Com. de Script. Brit. p. 292,
§ Com. &c, p. 292.
the Founder of Huln Abbey, €e. ra
_II. 4. With respect to John de Vescy, the tes-
timony of Camden and of Leland has been given
before: that he was in early times considered as the
founder is, I think, clear from Pat. 4, Ed. 2, p. 1,
m. 3, pro confirmatione donationum Foannis de
Vescz et aliorum. And Bishop Tanner refers us to
mss. Bibl. Bodl. Oxon. Dodsworth, vol. x1v,
f. 15, excerpta e Cartulario Carmelitarum de Aln-
wyke.*
2. But Dr. Ferriar is of opinion, that “ the nee
of founder could only belong to William de Vescy.”
I apprehend Dr. Ferriar asserts this on the autho-
rity of Mr. Grose. ; .
William de Vescy certainly lived at - the time
| Huln Monastery was founded; but still he has no
_ just claim to the title of founder. By the charter
of John Lord Vescy we find, that the said John
did grant to the White Friars, all the buildings,
é&c. which William de Vescy his father permitted
them to inhabit. Hence, it should seem, that John
de Vescy brought those friars from the Holy Land;
that, at his intercession, they were permitted to in-
habit Huln Abbey ; and that he afterwards granted,
é&c. And therefore, to Fohn de Vescy the appel-
lation of founder properly belongs.
The same disposition which induced John de
Vescy to bring the Carmelites into England, and to °
* Not. Monast. p, 398.
52 An Enquiry into the Name of
build them a monastery, is observable in other in-
stances; he being known to have brought over a
great number of Gascoignes to serve King Edward
in his Welsh wars,* and to have given to the monks
of Rufford, Nottinghamshire, the whole lordship
of Roderham, &c.t He seems to have made
two pilgrimages to the Holy Land—one, about the
year 1240; the other, after he had been taken pri-
soner at the battle of Evesham; and had been, by
Dictum de Kenilworth, admitted to composition.
~I now proceed, sir, to the seconp part of
this memoir, which will consist of
REMARKS ON \DR. FERRIAR’S ACCOUNT
OF THE MONUMENT IN THE CHURCH OF
HULN ABBEY.
There are, it seems, armorial bearings about the
monument; viz. a bend; a chevron, &c. Dr. Fer-
riat infers, that the bend is the ancient arms of
Vescy ; but in regard to the chevron, he says, “« To
whom the shield, charged with a chevron on the
left, ere I have attempted in vain to deter-
mine.’ .
I. As to the bend, Mr. Grose’s supposition seems
* Dugdale’s Baronage, vol. 1. p. 94.
+ Dugd. loc. cit. & Monast. Anglic. 1, 849.
+ H, Knyghton, 2438, n. 30. Fa
the Founder of Huln Abbey, ec. 53
the most probable: namely, that it is the arms of
Tyson, proprietor of Alnwick castle in the Saxon.
times.* For a shield charged with a bend is placed,
first, among the armorial bearings sculptured on the
towers of Alnwick; and, immediately after, is placed
the shield of Vescy.
That the original arms of the Vescy family were
quarterly, or and gules, admits not of a doubt; for,
in Pine’s plate of King John’s Great Charter, are
the arms of the twenty-five barons (who were to de-
cide any dispute between the king and his subjects),
as preserved in Coll. Armor. and among them,
quarterly, or and gules, Eustace de Vescy. But
these arms were changed by William, son of Eustace,
into gules, a cross argent, as Camden hath observed.
—Evstachit ex Beatrice filius Gulielmus, e materno
utero caesus, Vescy nomen sibi assumpsit, et insignia,
videlicet crucem argenteam in rubeo scuto.+ And
the William de Vescy, who was famous for his ex-
ploits in Ireland, again changed the arms of the fa-
mily, in auream parmam, cum nigra cruce.t
II. With respect to another device upon the
monument, something like a catharine wheel, Dr.
Ferriar supposes it may allude to Vescy’s travels;
and quotes Gerard Leigh to shew that the wheel
* Antiq. vol. 113.
+ Britannia, p. 588. edit, 1607.
t Britannia, doc, cit,
54 An Enquiry into the Name of
‘¢ is proper to the most honourable persons only.”
But that author says nothing farther, than that some
kings having had the catharine wheel for arms, there-
fore “ the bearer honoureth the thing that is borne.”*
Perhaps what Dr. Ferriar thinks a catharine
wheel, is merely an arbitrary embellishment; such as
is the device upon the chanfrin fig. 7 and 8, pl. xxiv,
of Grose’s Ancient Armour.
III. Having shewn that the bend was never the
arms of the family of Vescy, I shall endeavour to
determine to whom the chevron probably belongs.
It may not be unnecessary to premise, that, from
the manner in which the monument is executed, it
can by no means be reasonably supposed of much
higher antiquity than the reign of Henry the third.
Though the arms about the monument did never
appertain to the Vescy family, it is probable that the
person to whom the chevron belonged was posses-
sor of Alnwick castle; and that the bend was either
intended to allude to the castle, of which Tyson was
the first possessor; or to express that the deceased
held it on forfeiture of the descendants of Tyson. +
* Accedens of Armorye, fol, 102.
.t In Mr, Foxlow’s Horn, the coat of Ferrers is impaled
with that of Lancaster: ‘“ because (says Mr. Pegge), it sig-
nifies and expresses to us the title by which the house of
Lancaster, proprietors of the honour of Tutbury, came by
that honour, namely, by the forfeiture of Robert de Fer-
rers, Earl of Derby, temp, Henry 111, on which occasion
’
—hogemaeseyeee
= "
the Founder of Huln Abbey, €c. 55
The sword on the monument seems to indicate,
that the person interred was of the degree of a
knight ;* and as to the horn, may it not denote the
barony or honour of Alnwick?—possibly many of
the lands within the honour of Alnwick were held
by cornage; for, by that service, lands were fre-
quently holden on the borders of England; or,
possibly the horn may have a relation to the Fitz-
nigels, of which family the Lords of Alnwick inhe-
rited all the privileges, &c.T
Now, Dugdale in his Baronage thus speaks of
William de Vescy, the son of Eustace ;—* Which
William being in the tuition of the earl of Salis-
bury, with purpose that he should marry Isabel his
daughter, as he did, in 10 Hen. 111. obtained li-
very of all his lands (the earl of Salisbury being then
the king gave the earl’s estate to his second son Edmund.”
Archzologia, vol. 111, p. 7. Ferrers preceeds the coat of
Lancaster; and they are in two separate escutcheons in the
church window of Merevale, Warwickshire. Dugd.
Warw. p. 783. ,
* Compare it with the sword on the tomb-stone of
Urian de St. Pere, Archzologia, vol. v, sh 2, Gent, Mag,
vol, xxxv, p. 73, and plate there.
+ Dugdale’s Baronage, vol. 1, p. 91.
Nigel, in the reign of King Edward the eakiaess held
the custody of the Forest of Bernwood, fer unum cornu, ,
quod est charta pradicte forest ; and his successors, by the
name of Fitznigel, did bear for arms, argent, a fess gules
between two crescents, and a horn vert,
56 An Enquiry into the Name of
deceased), So likewise “of his castle at Alnwick,
which then was in the hands of Everard de Tyes.’*
The arms of Tyes are, argent, a chevron gules.t
Whence, all circumstances considered, I think it
extremely probable that the monument in question
was intended to commemorate Everard de Tyes.
I find no other mention of Everard de Tyes;
nor any traces of the connexion of his family with
the Vescys of Alnwick, except that in goth Hen. 11,
Adam de Carduis rendered an account to the Ex-
chequer, of the land or honour of William de Ves-
cy; viz. of the ferms of the manors belonging to the
honour, of the pleas and perquisites of it, &c. and
a fine made by Randolph de Tezs.||
I am, sir,
with great respect,
your most obedient humble servant,
ROBERT UVEDALE,
LANCTON, near SPiLsBy,
Feb. 24, 1795.
* Baronage, 4, p. 93.
+ Glover’s ordinary of arms in Edmondson’s Heraldry,
p. 96.
t Query.— Whether of the same family with Henry de
Tyes, who, 4 and 7 Edw. 11, was summoned to be at'New-
castle upon Tyne, with horse and arms, to restrain the hos-
tilities of the Scots; and who, having been summoned to
parliament among the barons, from 28 Edw.1 till 14 Edw.
11, at length suffered death for engaging in an insurrec-
the Founder of Huln Abbey, Se. 57
THE PEDIGREE OF THE VESCY FAMILY,
here annexed, may, it is apprehended, contribute to render
some passages in the foregoing dissertation more perfectly
understood.
Eustace, a Norman. William Tyson, Lord of Alnwick,
;
John Monoculus. Ivo de Vescy, a Norman__Alda.
J
Agnes, sister and heiress __Eustace Fitzjohn, died a. p. 1157__Beatrice.
of William Fitznigel.
William de Vescy, d. 1185.
Eustace de Vescy, d. 1216.
William de es 1253:
a= en a Oe oe |
John, Lord de Vescy, summoned to parliament William.
among the barons, 4. p. 1264; died 1289.
‘
tion? The name of that family is very variously written
—de Tieés (Camden), Tyeys (H. Knyghton), Teyes (Sand-
ford), le Tyes (Dugdale), Tyes, Tyeis, de Tyeys, de Tyesy-
&c. (Summons to Parliament).
| Mag. Rot. go Hen, 11, Rot, 11,b, Madox’s Baronia
Anglica, p. 74.
VOL. Ve BR
On the Variety of Voices.
BY MR. JOHN GOUGH.
Communicated by Dr. HotmeE,
READ JAN. 8, 1796.
Te variety of voices is perhaps as great as the
variety of features: and, like the countenance, it
serves as a personal distinction, to which all men
have recourse under certain circumstances; and
those that are deprived of sight, by cultivating a
more delicate sense of the modification of sound
under consideration, acquire a facility in discrimi-
nating between man and man, in their intercourse
with the world. This wonderful diversity* does
not stand in need of a formal proof of its existence
to be admitted as true; for no one who can hear is
* The property of voice, which is the subject of the
present paper, does not include the hoarse croaking me-
thod of articulating, that occurs not unfrequently. This
may be referred, in certain cases, to a natural or accidental
imperfection in the larynx ; but the defect appears to arise
more commonly from an ungraceful habit of speaking,
which is acquired by imitation, and confirmed by negli-
gence. This being premised, it will be easily understood,
that the tone heard in the smooth uninterrupted tenor of
the voice will constitute the subject of the present en-
bs Ma
On the Variety of Voices. 59
ignorant of its effects and extent. But the cause
of the great difference in the tone of the vocal or-
gans, is but badly understood; or, to speak more
properly, has perhaps never been examined in a phi-
losophical manner:. and, as it is the intention of this
essay to enquire into the subject with more care and
strictness, it will not be improper to begin by re-
viewing the commonly received notion of the nature
of sound. Sound is defined* to be a sensation excit-
ed in the ear bya quick succession of aerial pulses
corresponding to the vibrations of an elastic sub-
stance; for a body of this kind, upon receiving a
tremulous motion, immediately communicates it to
the portion of air in contact with itself; and it is, in
like manner, successively propagated through the
whole of the air extending from the vibrating surface
to the auditory organs, by which means men acquire
a notion of sound, together with the whole class of
ideas depending on the sense of hearing.
The preceding definition is sufficient to account for
all the phenomena of the musical scale, but it may be
easily proved to be too simple to explain the present
difficulty; for, were the sensations produced in the ear
only modified by the cause assigned above, it is evi-
dent that the variety of voices could consist in no-
thing besides comparative loudness and acuteness ;
because the effect produced on this organ by a °
* Smith’s Harmonics, sect, fT.
60 On the Variety of Voices.
single vibrating body being determined by the force
of the pulses of air, and the celerity with which they
follow each other, the only modifications that can
be inferred from any conjunction of these proper-
ties are the two specified above. But every man’s
experience will convince him how inadequate such
a combination is to elucidate the subject of the pre-
sent essay; for an acquaintance is easily recognized
by his speech, whether he speak vehemently or softly,
in a high or low key; and the voice of two singers
may be made to sound in unison, though they be in
other respects very dissimilar; on which account it
is certain that some circumstances, not comprised in
the definition of sound, enables men to identify per-
sons by the ear, without the assistance of the eye.
The diversity of sound so remarkable in the human
voice and vocal organs of animals, prevails also in
sonorous bodies of almost every description; for a
musician can single out, from a number of instru-
ments of the same kind, one that is familiar to him
merely by hearing them separately; and a flute will
play in concert with a violin, yet their notes, consi-
dered apart, are as distinct to sense as any two things
can be. The effect appearing (from the preceding
appeals to common sense) to be general, must be re-
ferred to a general cause; and, as it has been already
proved that the diversity in question is not produc-
ed by any modification of a simple sound, it follows
that some combination of sounds must constitute
On the Variety of Voices. 61
the cause of that indefinite variety observable in the
voices of men and the tones of sonorous bodies.
The sounds which are constantly striking our ears,
and with which we are alone acquainted, being prov-
ed to be’ compounded of simple or elementary
sounds, it may be safely concluded, that the vast
variety of tones which prevails in the world, is solely
occasioned by an union of simple sounds differing
among themselves in acuteness, which, according to
what has been shewn before, is the only distinguish-
ing character they can possess, excepting loudness.
It is evident from the preceding consideration, that
every natural or ordinary tone consists of what is
called in harmonics, an interval of sound; which is de-
fined,* by writers on the science, to be a quantity ofa
certain kind, terminated by a graver and an acuter
sound, For, if tones be supposed to consist invari-
ably of perfect simple unisons, the effect of any one
aggregate on the ear would vary from that of any
other in loudness and acuteness only, which being
the characteristic of elementary sounds, it is clear
that men are indebted to some other combination of
these elements for their idea of the diversity in ques-
tion. On the other hand, it is equally manifest that
these intervals are not great; for, on the supposition
of their being considerable, we should find no more
difficulty in perceiving the terminating sounds pro.
* Smith’s Harmonics, sect 1, art. 9.
62 On the Variety of Voices.
duced by the vocal organs, than we do in distin-
guishing the same in the concords and discords of a
piece of composite music. The contrary is therefore
‘true, viz. the intervals that enter into the composi-
tion of the human voice, and the tones of sonorous
bodies, are too small to have their terminating sounds
accurately discriminated by the ear, but sufficiently
large* to affect it with distinct sensations corres-
ponding to their relative affections. The certainty
of the last conclusion can hardly be supected when
the grounds on which it stands are properly attend-
edto. The common idea of tone has been consi-
dered in conjunction with the received definition of
sound; a definition which easily explains the phe-
nomenon abstractedly taken, but is incapable of ac-
counting for its various modifications. But, as
sound can only be modified t by sound, the three
* The truth of this assumption rests on the supposition
that sounds cease to be distinct to sense before they are in
perfect unison ; an opinion that will be proved in the se-
quel of the essay. After which it must appear evident,
that the required effect will take place in intervals, the
ratios of whose terminating sounds do not exceed a given
Tatio,
+ That sound can be modified by nothing but sound must
be admitted as an axiom in phonics; for, if the contrary be ©
maintained, an absurd consequence will ensue; viz. that
sonorous bodies can produce in the ear sensible impres-
sions, arising from their specific or chemical qualities, But
this is a doctrine repugnant to the common theory, which
On the Variety of Votces. 63
cases which alone can be supposed adequate to the
effect, have been separately examined, viz. a com-
bination of perfect unisons, and of great and small
intervals. The two first of these being rejected on
sufficient reasons, the last is admitted of necessity to
be the true cause of the subject under examination.
The principles of the theory being now established,
it is proper to say something, in the next place, on
that part of the mechanism of sonorous bodies, by
which the combination of elementary sounds is form-
ed. It would be superfluous to treat this branch of
the enquiry in a diffuse manner, a concise statement
of the cause appearing sufficient to prove the coinci-
dence of facts and the preceding conclusions.
The mechanism in question which is capable of
producing effects so diversified to sense, though so
slightly discriminated in nature, depends on a prin-
ciple that is easily understood. It is purely this: if a
vibratory motion be imparted to any one of a sys-
tem of elastic bodies that are connected together, the
same is immediately communicated in a less degree
‘to every body of the system, whose time of vibrating
ascribes the whole effect to the force and celerity of the
pulses of air striking the auditory organs, no regard being
paid to the qualities in question; excepting that a greater
degree of elasticity renders a body capable of sounding for.
a longer time than one possessed of a less degree: hence a
vessel of brass is more sonorous than one of wood both in
in point of loudness and duration,
64 On the Variety of Voices.
agrees nearly with that of the body first put in mo-
tion. For instance, let two equal strings be stretch-
ed on a frame, with degrees of tension that are near-
ly equal but not perfectly so; then, if either of them
be made to vibrate, the other will accompany it in
so distinct a manner, that their joint tone is easily
known from the sound of either of them taken
singly. This plain experiment reconciles the theory
to common observation, as it points out the method
followed by nature in compounding ordinary- tones
from elementary sounds; for not only all musical in-
struments, but also the vocal organs of men and
animals are complex machines, consisting of one par-
ticular part intended for the production of sound,
which is connected with many others necessary to
render the whole perfect. Now, it is evident that
such of these secondary members as are nearly in
unison with the principal, must participate of all its
motions, forming in conjunction with it a number of
simple sounds, all of them contained in a narrow in-
terval,* which is terminated by one of the number
* A circumstance that must be known to the most super-
ficial observer may be brought forward to corroborate what
is here advanced. We frequently find ourselves at a loss
to identify a voice at a distance, which is in other respects
familiar. The reason of this difficulty appears to be, that
the feebler sounds that enter into its composition are per=
ceived by a person standing near the speaker, but being lost
to the distant ear, the tone becomes simpler, and the hear=
er’s judgment is perplexed,
On the Variety of Voices. 65
that is graver, and one that is acuter than the rest.
The relative affections of these combinations, or the
mutual ratios of their constituent imperfect unisons,
may be varied indefinitely even in instruments or
vocal organs of the same description, from the
numberless slight variations that take place of ne-
cessity in the elasticity and tension of their respec-
tive similar parts; the obvious consequence of which
is, that the cycles of their joint beats or pulses will
be diversified in a manner equally unlimited. Now
it is very well known, that the different sensations
produced by several musical intervals, arise from
the comparative properties of their respective cycles:
but what is proved of larger intervals will hold good
in respect to smaller; and is equally applicable to
their effects on the ear, which are therefore shewn
to be susceptible of unlimited modifications in the
common course of things. The conclusions that
have already appeared in this paper, may incline the
reader to imagine, that cither the theory is false, or
music isa very imperfect art; because, according
to the preceding scheme, our ideas of symphony
and harmony result from sensations excited by the
use of small intervals, constantly substituted in the
room of elementary sounds, of which our only
knowledge seems to be that they exist, but are never
perceived alone, or uncombined with others of the °
same kind. To this plausible objection, the following
answer (grounded on observation and experience)
VOL, V. I
66 On the Variety of Voices.
may be given. The ear, though it judges with
wonderful exactness, falls short of mathematical ac-
curacy in its discriminations: a defect to which it is
liable in common with the other senses. The truth
of this proposition may be exemplified by an in-
stance familiar to every scientific musician.*
The smoothness or agreeableness of a musical
consonance depends on its simplicity, those conso-
nances being called the simplest in which the sum
of the lowest terms expressing the ratio of the single
vibrations of the terminating sounds, is least; or,
in case several such sums are the same, that conso-
nance is said to be simpler than the rest, in which
* The proof here exhibited of the ear’s inability to dis-
tinguish sounds, that are nearly the same or equal among
themselves, is the best I am able to advance, after consult-
ing various authors,
The accounts given by experimental philosophers rela-
tive to the least sensible interval are very discordant: Dr.
Keill observes in his Anatomy (edition gd, page 167) thata
good ear can perceive the disagreement of two strings,
differing only by the ;+, part of a note. M., Muschen-
broek says, that a good ear can distinguish no more than
forty-three tones in an octave. Mr. Atwood has recorded
an experiment (at page 99 of his Treatise on Rectilinear
Motion) wherein two strings appeared to be in unison
with a fixed sound; the tones of which I have found, bya
calculation drawn from his data, to disagree by seven
tenths of acomma. Suchcontradictory statements proves
indeed, the existence of the interval in question ; but
shew, at the same time, its magnitude to be undetermined,
wk,
>
On the Varicty of Voices. 67
ihe least term is smallest. Whence it follows, that
the smoothness of a consonance arises from the sim-
plicity of its cycle; because the terms of the ratio
of the single vibrations of the terminating sounds
are proportionate to the numbers of their times of
vibrating in the course of one cycle. This is the
reason why the fifth major makes the best concord
in the diatonic scale below the octave. But the fifth
in the tempered scale being diminished by a quarter
of a comma, the terms of the preceding ratio are
one and the fourth root of five; consequently it has
no cycle, as the ratio of incommensurable magni-
tudes is not that of number to number. Neverthe-
less this concord is used with advantage, though it
would be inadmissible in music, on the supposition
of the ear discriminating with mathematical preci-
sion. The truth is, an interval so tempered, con-
sists of an infinite succession of periods, so like the
simple cycles of the diatonic fifth as to supply its
place, without doing much violence to the nicest
sense. The various concords and discords may,
for the same reason, be produced on a musical ring
of bells, which can never be made perfect in the
strict sense of the word; for if any one bell, in the
best set, be struck separately, its note will be heard
to undulate or tremble, being manifestly disturbed
by cycles, which result from a slight inequality in.
the times of vibrations in different sections of the
vessel parallel to its mouth.
68 On the Variety of Voices.
A good approximation towards perfection being
shewn sufficient in the present, as well as in all other
cases of a similar kind, to satisfy our limited powers
of perception, it will not be difficult to prove the
small intervals of natural tones to be fit for all the
purposes of music, being calculated to afford the most
correct ideas of which the sense of hearing is suscepti-
ble. For the mperfect unisons, that unite to produce
the human voice or the sound of a musical instru-
ment, preserve the same ratio among the times of
their respective vibrations, in various degrees of
acuteness, ‘This is manifest, because the identity
of a given voice or instrument is discoverable by
the sameness of its tone at any point of the scale to
which it can arrive with ease, consequently the con-
sonances that enter into the composition of such
sounds are similar at all degrees of acuteness; or,
in other words, the ratios of the imperfect unisons
composing a tone, which is capable of being raised
or depressed, are consonant among themselves un-
der every possible variation.* The last considera-
tion makes it clear, that what has been inferred from
a ring of bells (namely, that their notes, though ma-
nifestly compounded, serve all the purposes of mu-
sic) applies with equal, if not greater, force and cer-
tainty to those minute intervals, the cycles of which
are not so easily perceived.
* Smith’s Harmonics, sec, 111, art. 3.
On the Variety of Votces. 69
The subject having been already considered,
perhaps too circumstantially, this essay may be
properly concluded by observing, that the ear of a
muscian receives the compound tones of his art for
elementary sounds, in the same manner that the eye
of a geometer contemplates his schemes as perfect,
though points and lines are represented in them
by dots and strokes of ink. The existence of an
error is certain in both cases; but the deviation
from truth is too small to be estimated by the senses ;
on which account the practical parts of both sciences
are sufficiently exact for our limited capacities.
7°
On the Benefits and Duties resulting from
the Institution of Societies for the Advance-
ment of LirERATURE and PHILOsopuy.
By the Rev. Tuomas GisBorne, A.M.
Communicated by Dr, Percivat,
READ FEBRUARY 19TH, 1796,
Every situation and circumstance of life brings
its attendant duties. This position was recognized,
and apparently in its full extent, by some of the mo-
-ralists of antiquity. Cicero says expressly: Nulla
vite pars, neque publicis, neque privatis, neque foren-
sibus, neque domesticzs in rebus, neque si tecum agas
quid, neque sz. cum altero contrahas, vacare officio po-
test. Revelation teaches the same lesson: illustrat-
ing with new light the momentous truth; and en-
forcing it partly by motives unknown to the heathen
world, and partly by others which, though previous-
ly discovered and avowed in a greater or a less de-
gree, had failed of their due effect on human con-
duct, in consequence of neither being grounded on
sufficient authority, mor supported by adequate
sanctions.
If the unceasing and universal recurrence of duty
be a truth clear and obvious to the understanding,
resting on immoveable foundations, and involving
On the Institution of Socreties, €8c. 71
consequences of the highest importance; it is a truth
of which we ought never to lose sight. If it be a
truth at all, it is a truth to be applied by every man,
and under all circumstances. It is to be applied
not only as affecting our behaviour in points imme-
diately connected with our station and profession,
and with the relative obligations which result from
the ties of kindred and of friendship; but as equally
extending to our conduct in any special undertak-
ing in which we engage, singly or collectively, for
the purpose of promoting a particular object.
It may therefore be neither unseasonable nor
wholly unprofitable to enquire, what are the gene-
ral duties incumbent on individuals in consequence
of their associating themselves for the encourage-
ment of Literature and Philosophy.
To consider distinctly the advantages which may
be expected from such an association, and also the
disadvantages by which its beneficial effect may be
liable to be more or less impaired, will, perhaps, be
the most perspicuous method of prosecuting the en-
quiry. For in the improvement of those advan-
tages, and the counteraction of those disadvantages,
the duties to which an individual subjects himself by
entering into the society may be stated to consist.
It is manifest that the advantages in question, .
whatever they may be, cannot be attained, unless
the situation where the society is established be such
as to afford the aids necessary for the growth and
72 On the Institution of Literary
welfare of the institution. The society cannot
flourish, unless the place of its establishment, and
the vicinity of that place, shall together furnish such
a number of persons respectable for their talents,
~and attached to literary and scientific pursuits, as is
of itself sufficient to uphold the institution in vigour
and activity; or, at least, such a number of persons
of this description as may be likely, by the effect of
their characters and of their exertions, speedily to
kindle in the breasts of others that love of learning
and philosophy which animates themselves. Of all
situations the metropolis is unquestionably the most
favourable. It comprehends within its precincts a
far greater assemblage of abilities and of knowledge
than is to be found collected in any other part of
the kingdom; and it supplies to abilities and know-
ledge those means of facilitating research, and of
perfecting discoveries, which it would be in vain to
seek for elsewhere. There the literary man, whe-
ther he devotes himself to the investigations depend-
ing on profound erudition, or to the elegant pur-
suits of ingenuity and taste, is all times within the
reach of libraries stored with the information, an-
cient or modern, of which he stands in need; and
in the neighbourhood of eminent_ persons engaged
in kindred enquiries, and ready by communication
of knowledge and by friendly discussion: to throw
light on the subject on which he is employed. The
philosopher enjoys similar advantages both with re-
yar
a RATT tel gems
» fs
and Philosophical Soczetzes. 73
spect to books, and to the assistance of-others. He
stands at the conflux of scientific intelligence pour-
ing in from every quarter of the globe. He is rous-
ed to'exertion by the accounts continually reaching
his ears from foreign countries, and by witnessing
the successes of his coadjutors at home. And he
is surrounded by artificers equally prepared by
quickness of invention to contrive instruments, by
the aid of which he may complete new and difficult
experiments; and by skilfulness of workmanship to
execute mechanism which he may have planned.
himself. Next to the metropolis, those situations
which bear the nearest resemblance to it in the cir-
cumstances recently stated are most congenial to the
Institutions of which we are speaking. Such, for
example, are cities abounding with persons whose
minds a liberal education has polished and enlarged:
opulent provincial towns, in which the prosperous
state of manufactures evinces the benefits of mecha-
nical and chemical knowledge, and thus disposes men
to science and observation: and even smaller towns
which are fortunate enough to contain some inhabi-
tants of distinguished talents and acquisitions; or
which may serve as a central point of union to able
men scattered in their neighbourhood, yet not so
widely dispersed as to be in danger of failing in that
regular intercourse, which is essential to the utility and °
to the permanence of the association. When the pro-
priety of establishing such an association at any parti-
cular place is agitated, the view ought to be extended
VOL. V. K
74 On the Institution of Literary
beyond the existing moment. The prospect of the
durability and energy of the establishment is a mat-
ter which ought to be carefully and impartially con-
sidered. For more is involved in the event than
the success of the individual undertaking. If the
society, once instituted, should fall into speedy de-
cay; or be doomed with laborious efforts to strug-
gle for a lingering and unprofitable existence; the
injudicious attempt will throw discredit on all simi-
lar institutions; and may ultimately prevent the
foundation of societies in other places, where they
might have flourished, not merely with honour to
themselves, but with advantage to the community.
The benefits which may be expected to result
from the establishment of a society for the promo-
tion of Literature and Philosophy, when the situa-
tion where it is fixed is selected with discernment,
are by no means small. ‘They include, on the one
hand, the light which may be reflected on general
learning, on the fine arts, and on the different
branches of natural and experimental philosophy, by
the united efforts of the members of the society;
and on the other, the various happy effects that ac-
crue from the institution to the individual members,
and directly or indirectly through the medium of
those members extend their influence to others.
These benefits, though in strictness of speech be-
longing to two separate classes, are yet so nearly al-
lied and so firmly connected together, that it may
‘and Philosophical Societies. a5
scarcely be practicable to speak of those pertaining
to one class without, at the same time, touching on
observations, referring immediately to those of the
other. Perspicuity however seems to require that
the benefits of the latter class should be stated in the
first place. And if that circumstance were insuffi-
cient to turn the balance, I know not whether the
weight of the claim arising from superiority in point
of importance might not also be thrown into the
same scale. ;
Writers, who have discussed the merits of the
several parts of the British constitution, have not
scrupled, when describing the advantages which the
existence and the powers of the two houses of
parliament diffuse over the community, to rank the
following very high among the number: namely,
that by the admission of men respectively eminent
in different lines and professions into each of these
branches of the legislature, and by the importance,
the animation, and the publicity of the parliamen-
tary debates, a useful and manly direction is given
to the public mind; the attention of the higher and
middle ranks of society is continually invited to ra-
tional and interesting objects; and topics connected
with political science and the general welfare are
rendered familiar and attractive to multitudes, who |
have no prospect or expectation of ever being raised
to the dignity of peerage, or enrolled among the po-
pular representatives, Reasoning similar to this in
76 On the Institution of Literary
principle, though differing from it as to the particu-
lars to which it relates, may be alleged respecting
societies of the description now under consideration.
They bring literature and philosophy from the col-
lege and the closet into public view, into the walks
of common life, into scenes which would otherwise
have been merely the haunts of business or of dissi-
pation; and subject numbers to the influence and
enrich them with the treasures of learning and
“science, to whom little was previously known of
either but the name. When once such an institu-
tion is planted in a soil congenial to its growth, the
studious member, whatever be his line of research,
has an additional security. against the danger of em-
ploying himself in a barren or indiscriminate perusal
of bulky volumes: he feels himself admonished to
be judicious in the selection of the authors and of
the topics on which he bestows his time and atten-
tion; to direct his thoughts into some regular and
promising train, to point them to some predetermin-
ed and beneficial end; and, perhaps, to read less
than formerly, that he may weigh, digest, and re-
flect the more. He is excited to a perseyering ex-
ercise of his talents.by the laudable example of his
associates ; and by the desire (a desire far from re-
_ prehensible when kept under the control of proper
motives) to be qualified to bear his part in the dis-
cussion of the various subjects which will be sub-
mitted to the society at its periodical meetings, and
eer rere. Vn rr ra
and Philosophical Societies. 77
to contribute his due proportion to the general stock
of instruction. Similar wishes, in the mean time,
are gradually felt and cherished by many who do
not belong to the society: by some, who are al-
ready no strangers to learning and science; by
others, to whom study of any kind has hitherto con-
veyed no impression but that of irksomeness. The
former are affected by the institution in a manner
resembling that recently stated. The latter have
before their eyes an association consisting princi-
pally of neighbours of their own, and, possibly, com-
prehending nearly all those of their neighbours who
have given strong proofs of abilities and attainments ;
and are struck by the respectability and weight of
such an assemblage of talents and _ intelligence.
They perceive in that association some of their
own daily companions in the intercourse and oc-
cupations of common life, who appear raised above
them by the only honourable distinction, that of
merit, and moving in another sphere. They are
conscious of a secret regret at finding themselves
apparently sunk below their former level. And
though they perhaps do not yet look to be admitted
into that body in which their friends and acquain-
tances are stationed; they are at least anxious not
to be under the necessity of either remaining silent
in their presence, or of speaking but to expose”
themselves, if at incidental meetings in a private
circle some topic connected with literature or science
78 On the Institution of Literary
should chance to become the subject of discourse.
They imagine, in short, that a broad line is now
drawn between ignorance and knowledge; and they
perceive themselves on the wrong side. Hence
they insensibly view things with other eyes. In pro-
portion as the value of mental improvement ad-
vances in their estimation, their repugnance to
books and reflection diminishes. | Persuaded of the
worth of the object, they no longer refuse to em-
ploy the means necessary for its accomplishment,
They begin to discern that to- be proficients in the
science of dress, to be connoisseurs in the dainties
of the table, to run the never-ceasing round of fri-
volous amusements, to vie in habits of luxury and
in the ostentatious display of wealth, do not render
a man quite so respectable as they formerly believ-
ed: and discover ere long, at first with some sur
prise, but with a surprise of short continuance, that
such characteristics render him deservedly con-
temptible. This change of sentiments is followed
by its natural effects. Information, taste, a love of
literature, of liberal arts, of philosophical enquiry,
are qualifications which grow more and more allur-
ing; and are counted among the most desirable in-
gredients in contracting intimacies and friendships.
Some of the individuals, in whom the establishment
of the society has wrought so fortunate an alteration,
become, in process of time, both members and or-
naments of the institution itself, And those who in
and Philosophical Societics. 79
consequence of a limit prescribed to its number, or
through other circumstances, do not happen to be
received within its pale, regard it with grateful es-
teem, as the source of those habits and attainments
in themselves to, which, next to the conscientious
discharge of duty, they owe many of the happiest
hours of their life.
The degree in which these advantages may be
expected to result from the rise of literary and phi-
losophical associations, will be in some measure re-
gulated in each instance by incidental causes. But
to a greater or less extent they are always likely to
ensue. And to the beneficial consequences which
have been already mentioned others of a similar na-
ture are yet to be added. When the society is nu-
merous, and respectable in the public eye, the tone of
general conversation throughout the place and its vi-
cinity, whether in domestic intercourse or in mixed
company, becomes manifestly raised, He, who is
accustomed to allot a due portion of his retirement to
instructive reading and improving thought, will na-,
turally have his discourse tinctured, when evening
draws the family circle round him, with the subjects
to which the studies of the morning were devoted.
He, to whose mind the productions of literature and
science are familiar, will be prone to enliven the te-
dious langour, and to enrich the vapid talkativeness °
of the afternoon visit by the easy and well-timed in-
troduction of facts or observations derived from lite-
80 On the Institution of Literary
rature, philosophy, or the fine arts, such as are
adapted to the occasion, and interesting without be-
ing abstruse: and will frequently be seen, perhaps
unconsciously, to fix attention and communicate
pleasure, while the neglected card-table stands va-
cant or is pushed aside. Even the noisy and the dis-
sipated, when in company with such men, will gra-
dually be led, partly by a sense of shame, partly by
a desire of rendering themselves agreeable, partly by
the influence of example, to adopt habits and senti-
ments better than their own. They will cease to’
confine their discourse to the tale of scandal of the
hour, the adventures of a fox-chase, the history of a
dinner, the determination of a gaming-bet; and to
publish their own shame and their own guilt by de-
tailing their feats of riot and intemperance. Folly
will learn some degree of caution, and silence will
appear the only refuge of vice.
Such are the advantages derived to individuals
from the institutions which form the subject of the
present enquiry. Other benefits which flow from
them relate to the general interests of literature and
science. That benefits of the latter description may
reasonably be expected to follow, is a truth which the
observations already made will unavoidably have
suggested. For when a number of persons, ante-
cedently addicted to literary or philosophical inves-
tigations, are stimulated, by the accession of some
new motive, to additional industry in their several
and Philosophical Societies. 81
pursuits, and invited to direct their talents to some
specific and important ends; and when perhaps an
equal or larger number of men previously unac-
customed or disinclined to such investigations be-
come habituated and attached to them; is it proba-
ble, is it possible, that literature and science can fail
to profit by these events? The field, on which so
much labour of cultivation could be employed with-
out producing any fruit, must have been doomed to
more than common sterility. From the encreased
stock of zealous and persevering exertion, it may
unquestionably be hoped that much light will be
thrown on some of the various departments of lite-
rature, especially on its more popular and elegant
branches. And science has perhaps reason to look
forward to still greater assistance from the same cause.
New mines of philosophical treasure will be opened ;
new discoveries will be made; new analogies traced;
erroneous hypotheses exploded; rational theories
corroborated; and conclusions, hitherto resting on
speculative conjecture or dubious experiments, will
be established on the basis of fact and demonstration.
The laws of nature and the properties of bodies will
be developed more and more; new processes appli-
cable to the polite arts will be made known; and
new inventions disclosed to facilitate the labours of
the practical mechanic, and improve the workman- .
ship of the manufacturer. By its publications, the
society will preserve and spread abroad much im-
VOL. v. L
82 On the Institution of Literary
portant knowledge, which otherwise would never
have been committed to writing. By honorary
premiums, if they are comprised within its plan, or
by the more honourable reward of admission among
its members, it will add vigour to exertion and cre-
dit to success.
From the wise purpose of Providence (that every
period of life and every plan which we undertake
shall form a part of the grand scheme of moral pro-
bation) it results, that every good, attainable on the
present stage of being, is liable to be accompanied
by evil. Hence every human institution, from the
political arrangement framed for the government of
an empire to the humblest local association, of what-
ever benefits it may be productive, will also bring a
train of attendant disadvantages. And however in-
ferior in magnitude the latter may be to the former,
they will yet be such as to render conscientious vi-
gilance to obviate them, a strict and important duty.
It is therefore material to enquire, what are the dis-
advantages not unlikely to be annexed to the valu-
able institutions now before us. I do not speak of
disadvantages which may be nearly or altogether
precluded by the fundamental rules of the society
properly executed. If political contention and the
spirit of ministerial or antiministerial attachment be
suffered to embroil the periodical meeting; if local
disputes and private animosities, instead of being
mitigated by the concurrence of all the adverse par-
and Philosophical Societies. 83
ties in literary and philosophical pursuits, make use
of the evening dedicated to those pursuits as an op-
portunity to vent their bitterness; if the hours as-
signed to rational enquiry and debate be trifled away
in discourse foreign to the avowed object of the as-.
sociation; if the discussion of subjects correspond-
ing to its design be disgraced by acrimony and
taunts, by scurrility and invective; these are not
evils attached to the nature of the institution. They
result from some defect in its code of internal regu-
lations; or from the want of care and honest steadi-
ness in the members to enforce the observance of the
existing laws. If men of depraved morals and pro-
fligate conduct be admitted into the society; the
fault rests wholly with those who, from a respect to
abilities and attainments, are led to receive among
them persons destitute of qualifications infinitely
more respectable. On evils so prominent, and so
easy to be remedied, it is unnecessary toenlarge. The
subsequent remarks are meant to be appropriated
to such as seem occasionally to spring from sources,
from which some of the benefits of the institution
flow ; to those failings, namely, which are sometimes
found to be produced or aggravated in an indivi-
dual, by the very circumstance of his being admit-
ted into the society,
Self-conceit will commonly be observed to pre-
vail the most in those minds, which are not distin-
guished by soundness of judgment, or deeply im-
84 On the Institution of Literary
bued with learning and science. But the most pow-
erful understanding and the highest attainments af-
ford no security against its influence. When once
a member of the society is seized by this malady, he
speedily shews symptoms of its attack; and if it be
not vigorously checked in the outset, continues
from time to time to manifest encreasing marks of
its progress. He conceives himself an object of ge-
neral attention ; and is ever on the watch to strength-
en the opinion of*his talents and importance. His
manner becomes studied, his tone dogmatical, his
praises qualified, his censures peremptory. Ac-
cordingly as he aims at the character of erudition,
or of taste, his conversation is pedantic, or affected.
He talks that he may be admired: he reads for the
purpose of display. His compositions are loaded
with technical terms; or glitter with false and super-
abundant ornament. Whatever be the subject
which he treats, his desire to shine is equally appa-
rent and prejudicial. It pervades the researches of
learning; it even infects the simplicity of philoso-
phical demonstration. He proves himself ambiti-
ous to evince the knowledge which he possesses ra-
ther than earnest to acquire more. The information
which he has accumulated, the discoveries which he
makes, are degraded by the cumbrous and tawdry
garb in which they are enveloped. The interests of
literature have more to fear from his defects than to
hope from his labours,’ The great stream of science
and Philosophical Societies. 85
rolls on beside him, and scarce accounts his turbid
and frothy effusions among the number of its tribu-
tary rills. In the mean time he grows more and
more proud of what he knows, more and more for-
getful of the extent of his ignorance. He 1s athirst
for compliment and applause; and seeks to magni-
fy the credit of the society to which he belongs, in
proportion as his own reputation init is recognized.
And if at length he approaches the top of the de-
tached eminence on which he is stationed, he seems
to fancy himself arrived at the pinnacle of know-
ledge; unobservant of the distant hills which rise
higher and higher around him, and lead on to moun-
tains concealing their summits in the clouds.
When vanity has thus taken possession of the
head, it usually happens that darker passions become
inmates of the heart. He who is puffed up with
overweening ideas of his own merit easily proceeds,
if it can indeed be called an additional step, to think
contemptuously of others. The natural conse-
quences of these dispositions are partiality, jealousy,
envy, impatience of contradiction, unkind senti-
ments towards the person differing in opinion, and
a secret desire to detract from the credit of success-
ful fellow-labourers in the field of literature and
philosophy. ;
The vanity by which, proportionally to the de-
gree in which it exists, these most criminal tempers
of the mind are fomented, is to be extinguished on-
4 f *
86 On the Institution of Literary
ly by the active prevalence of those motives (very
different from a passion for human praise) which
Christianity prescribes for the regulation of the heart
and conduct in every station and circumstance of
life. |
There yet remains one subject, on which (in
treating of disadvantages not unlikely to be annexed
to Literary and Philosophical institutions) it would
be improper to be wholly silent. I allude to the
charge not unfrequently alleged against philosophy ;
and against the institutions in question as encourag-
ing philosophy:—namely, that the philosopher is
sometimes found to advance in the road to infideli-
ty in proportion as he devotes himself to scientific
researches. This charge is, I trust, an imputation,
which has derived an unmerited degree of credit in
consequence of being unhappily supported by some-
particular examples, to enlarge on which would be
unsuitable to the present occasion. With respect
therefore to those examples I shall only observe,
that if the effect of \philosophical pursuits on faith in
Christianity were to be estimated by the authority
of the names of believing and unbelieving philoso-
phers; the venerable Newton would be found sta- ,
uoned at the head of a phalanx, whose intellectual pe-
netration and scientific attainments would in vain,
I apprehend, be sought on the adverse side. No
supposition however can be more unreasonable than
to imagine ‘that a sedulous enquiry into the works
and Philosophical Societies. 87
of God, when conducted with that frame of mind,
the fitness of which in such enquiries will not be
disputed; an honest desire to discover truth; an im-
partial investigation of evidence ; humility suited to
the shortsightedness of man; a willingness to re-
nounce erroneous preconceptions; and a reverence
and love for the glorious Creator, can tend to sub-
vert the belief of a revelation, which, in order to be
received, requires only to be studied with those dis-
positions. But if men are precipitate in judgment,
self-sufficient, and presumptuous; if they investigate,
not with a solicitude to establish truth, but to sub-
stantiate their own previous decisions; if, after
gleaning together some facts and conjectures in na-
tural knowledge, they deem themselves competent
to pronounce on the mysteries of the universe, and
I had almost said, on the duties of its Governor; if
they construct high-sounding theories, and instead
of trying the truth of revelation on its proper evi-
dence, estimate it by its agreement or disagreement
with those theories; if the object of their researches
be to glorify not God, but themselves ;—such men
may easily be unbelievers, but let them not usurp
the name of philosophers. If to be a philosopher,
is to be lover of wisdom; he alone may hope to de-
serve the appellation, who cherishes the dispositions
which wisdom enjoins. If to be a philosopher, is
to be a lover of wisdom, he is the true philosopher,
who loves the wisdom revealed from above,
88 On Literary and Philosophical Societies.
The important point to be borne in mind is this:
That the institution of a society for the advance-
ment of literature and science brings with it, like
every other human institution, its peculiar moral
obligations: that each member of such a society has,
in that capacity, as in every other; talents to employ
for the glory of God and the benefit of man: that
he has in that capacity, as in every other, duties to
discharge and temptations to withstand: and that
the degree in which he performs or disregards those
duties, and encourages or resists those temptations,
will compose one of the subjects of the great ac-
count to be given hereafter; and will be attended
with consequences to be experienced in another
stage of existence.
T. GISBORNE,
Yoxatt Lopcer,
| January 28th, 1796.
.
|
|
|
|
i .
89
On an UNIVERSAL CHARACTER:
in a Letter from JAMES ANDERSON, L.L.D-
-F.R.S. F.A.S.S. &C. &c. to EDWARD HOLME,
M.D.
READ NOVEMBER 4TH, 1796.
Corriexp, near Leith, Feb. 2oth, 1795+
Dear Sir,
Since I had last the pleasure of see-
ing you in Manchester, I have had more leisure to
turn my attention towards literary investigations
than for some years past. My time indeed has
been chiefly employed in facilitating the communi-
cation between different places within land, by means
of roads and canals: in regard to both which great
undertakings, I find we are as yet not a great deal
farther advanced. than children beginning to walk.
AQUEDUCT BRIDGES, which are at present erect-
ed at so enormous an expence, as materially
to obstruct the extension of canals, may cer-
tainly be constructed in such a way as to cost less
than the bare carriage of the materials will in many
cases amount to. But, without explanations, these
assertions must appear mere impossibilities suggest-
ed at random: and, as explanations would require
more time and room than can be spared, I shall
pass from this to another subject, that is more in the
line of your pursuits.
VOL. Vv. M
go On an Universal Character.
Every literary person knows the difficulties to
which he is subjected by reason of the multiplicity
of languages, that prevail over the globe. The
time that is lost, in the acquisition of these languages,
will not, I think, be over rated, if it be stated at one
half of the whole time that literary men can apply
to study, taking the chance of deaths at an early
period; and, after all, very few persons can acquire
the perfect knowledge of more than three or four
languages; and every other person is stopped in’
his enquiries the moment he extends his views in
the smallest degree beyond the limits of his native
tongue.
~ Thave at last hit upon a device by which this
difficulty can be totally removed ; which is so per-
fectly simple, that it is inconceivable why it should
not have been adopted many ages ago. This may
be called a new ari of writing. It is of such a na-
ture, that two persons instructed in this art, though
they use each a language that is totally unknown to
the other, may correspond with each other with
much more facility than I can correspond with you;
and though each uses his own language in writing
the other reads it in his own language. In short,
the same writing, were it shewed to a multitude who
used: five hundred different languages totally un- -
known to each other, would be equally intelligible
to the whole; and every individual would read it,
and express it readily in his own native tongue, pro-
a
P
,
ouetewe’™
On an Universal Character. gi
vided he had been previously acquainted with this art.
Nor would it be a matter of greater difficulty to
learn this, than it is at present to learn to read and
write one’s native language.
This, you will say is a great discovery; and I
shall not be surprised if you should think it a
great gasconade at the same time: yet it is perhaps
neither the one nor the other in the strict meaning
of the words. It can lay no claim to the name of
a discovery, if it be only the application of a princi-
ple that has been long known, to some very obvious
particulars that have been hitherto disregarded.
Nor will it be deemed a gasconade, if I can shew
that every literary man is in the practice of doing
this very thing every day without paying attention
to it.—For example :
Supposing a stone were to fall from the clouds,
with the characters 1795 delineated upon it; and
that stone were to be exhibited to a convention of
people, consisting of one of each of the nations
of Europe, they would all read it with equal ease,
and understand it perfectly. If you asked an Eng-
lishman what it was, he would answer, one thousand
seven hundred and ninety-five, and that, it denoted
the present year of the Christian era. Aska French-
man, he wouldas readily answer, mil-sept-cent-quatre-
wingt-quinze. A Spaniatd—a German—a Russ, .
&c. would each read it in the same manner in his
own language. Here then is all that I propose ta
92 On an Universal Character.
do:—it is merely to extend to words in general, what
we now apply only to those words that denote
numbers.
That this may be done, is obvious from the ex-
ample just given. That it actually has been done
for upwards of three thousand years past, by the
Chinese nation, admits of the clearest proof. And
that the powerful nations of Japan, Siam, and
Tonquin (all of which use languages very diffe-
rent from each other and from the Chinese) read
the writings of each other*—in short, make use of
the same written characters in all respects, is like-
wise an undeniable fact. The discovery then is re-
* Thus it is remarked by Sir George Staunton, that a
missionary, who was of his party, could not, in any de-
gree, understand the conversation of the inhabitants of
Condore; * but when the words were written, they in-
stantly became intelligible to him, Though their collo-
quial language was altogether different from what is
spoken in China, yet the characters were all Chinese: and
the fact was clearly ascertained on this occasion, that those
' characters have an equal advantage with Arabic numbers,
of which the figures convey the same meaning wherever
known ; whereas the letters of other languages denote not
things but elementary sounds, which, combined variously
together, form words or more complicated sounds, convey-
ing different ideas in different languages, though the form
of their alphabet be the same.’? Authentic Account of an
Embassy to the Emperor of China, vol, 1, page 312.
E, H.
Stet PSS oe = ==
ee ee EO Se ag eee ee ee
ed
—
On an Universal Character. 93
duced to no discovery at all; and is only the effect
of a very moderate stretch of reasoning.
This fact, respecting the Chinese language, has
been long known in Europe; but as mankind al-
ways depreciate the acquirements of others who ex-
ceed them in knowledge, so our European philoso-
phers have been liberal in their abuse of the Chinese
mode of writing; representing it as an unwieldy
chaos of crude materials, which the life of a manis —
not sufficient to unravel. I have found only one
European (M. de Guignes) who had made himself
perfectly master of the Chinese writing, in Europe;
and another (M. Freret), who had made very con-.
siderable progress in it before he died; but, so far
were these men from complaining of the defects al-
leged against that mode of writing, that they admir- ©
ed it exceedingly.
Still, however, when I contemplated the subject
at a distance, it appeared to be environed with dread-
ful difficulties. The number of characters that would
be wanted seemed to be so great, that there would be
difficulty in forming them so distinct from each
other, as to be in no danger of being confounded;
—and to retain all these in the mind so as to use
them readily, appeared to be a still more difficult task.
But provided these two difficulties were surmounted,
how would it be possible to reduce such characters
to the form of a dictionary of easy reference? or
how could printers acquire a facility in using such
94 On an Universal Character.
a variety of types as seemed to be indispensibly
necessary? I own these appeared to be absolute
impossibilities; and these considerations had well
nigh stopped me from going farther, as I presume
has been the case with many others.
It chanced, however, that I was not quite dis-
heartened. Upon a little investigation I fownd,
that, on account of derivatives and compounds, the
number of characters would be procigiously dimin-
ished. Diminutives, augmentatives, opposites, inflec-
tions, &c. would furnish the means of an infinitely
ereater reduction in that respect; so that the first
objection vanished in a moment.
As to the second :—Is it not as easy to recollect
the meaning of an obvious distinct mark placed be-
fore the eye, as to recollect the meaning of a dis-
tinct sound pronounced, by means of the ear? Yet
it is well known that this must be done, by every one
who learns a foreign language, with regard to every
word in that language; so that, if the signs were as
much multiplicd as the words are, they must be as
easily recollected. And it is well known that it does
not exceed the human powers to acquire ten or
twelve languages.
_ As to the difficulty of devising signs, this was so
very easy, that at the very first trial I made, I found,
that taking a perpendicular straight stroke as the
basis, thus |, it might be easily so varied, by slight
but distinct marks, without a-probability of one being
On an Universal Character. 95
mistaken for another in any case, as would give a
greater number of characters than all the words in
the English language; and perhaps, a hundred times
more than can be wanted for our purpose: that
there could, in fact, beno difficulty in forming a hun-
dred millions of distinct characters, no two of which
could be mistaken for each other, were it neces-
sary: but there will not be wanted perhaps above
five hundred characters for all the purposes of lan-
guage. .
These characters too can be formed in such an
analytical way, as to be of even more easy reference
in a dictionary than the alphabetical arrangement now
in use; and printing might be practised with half the
number of types that are now required. I was
perfectly astonished at the facility with which
all these things could be done; and not less pleas-
ed on contemplating the benefits that would result
from this mode of writing, were it introduced into
general practice.
The first advantage would be the opening of a
free literary intercourse among all nations; as the
_ writings and books of every nation would be equal-
ly intelligible to all other nations as to those to whom
they originally belonged.
The second would be facilitating the art of writ.
ing—for any man could then write as fast as another
can speak; and the discourse would be taken down,
not as it now is (by those who write it in short-hand}
96 On an Universal Character.
by half words and mutilated sentences, liable to
be mistaken; but completely and entirely, with as
much accuracy as if the orator had written it word
for word with his own hand.
_- A third advantage would be a diminution of space
in writing, and a still greater diminution in printing;
so that a single page might be made to contain near-
ly half a volume. This would greatly diminish the
price of books, and consequently augment their cir-
culation.
To these advantages I may add, that it would give
a precision and accuracy of expression to written
language that it never yet has attained, without ne-
cessarily affecting the spoken language of any coun-
try. But I am sensible that till it can be shewn
how all this can be done, it is like putting down
a parcel of enigmas to state them, though they
will be perfectly obvious when explained. What
would our forefathers, before the knowledge of the
Arabic numerals, have thought of a man who should
have said: that, by means of ten trifling characters,
he could perform the different operations in arith-
metic, which we know can be done with the utmost
ease? He would have been nearly as much cre-
dited if he had said: that, by means of ten little
sticks, he could make a ladder on ‘which he could
ascend to the moon.
I speak now with some degree of certainty on
subject; for, after having committed a few thoughts
ce es oe eee
On an Universal Character. 97
to paper respecting it, I put this essay into the
hands of a gentleman, who I know to be much
more capable of such investigations than I am, and
desired him to turn his attention to it in a particu-
lar manner, which I assured him he would find to
be much less difficult than he would at first sight
apprehend, and left it with him, without giving any
explanation of the mode of notation that had occur-
red to myself. When I next met with him, about
a fortnight afterwards, I found that he had entered
into the subject with great ardour, and had made a
progress in it much greater than I believed to be
possible. He had devised a mode of notation to-
tally different from mine ; and, I believe, equally
comprehensive and simple. He had formed the
outlines nearly of a complete grammar, arrang-
ed with the most beautiful simplicity, and with
such peculiarities as give this written language
such precision above all spoken languages as must
tend greatly to improve, without deranging, the
spoken language of all who shall use it. I have
requested him to proceed till he completes the
whole: for, as he advances, he finds that the signs
may not only be more simplified than he first thought _
of; but also that, by this simplification, the zdeas may
be rendered more distinct and precise. He thinks
at present, that about five hundred characters are all
that can be wanted for any purpose inlanguage. These
are to be varied by moveable signs denoting genc-
Vy Oo L. V. N
98 On an Universal Character.
fal ideas, which become particular when connected
with individual signs. z
In order to give you a slight notion of what is
meant, and the manner in which it may be done, I
send you inclosed a small schedule containing the
personal pronouns only, and the manner in which
they might be denoted, according to the mode of
notation I had thought of.* In these you will ob-
serve, that this mark *, always denotes the mascu-
line,—this mark ’, the feminine,—and no mark at
all, the neuter gender ;—-that a point above the cha-
racter, denotes the plural;—that this mark’ at the
right hand side denotes the definitive, commonly
called the genitive or possessive case ;—-and that the
same mark with the cross in the middle (which is the
sign of the accusative case)\ denotes the possessive,
properly so called.
You will now see somewhat of what is meant by
the accuracy of ideas that would be thus conveyed,
in comparison of what can be done by spoken lan-
guage. For instance, the plural of he, she, and 2é, are
all equally they; but it is certain that in language, to
speak with precision, there is as much want of a
plural for the different genders as of a singular,
A writer then, when he had occasion to discriminate
these ideas would do it; and when ¢hey denoted
males, he would write it thus -{j; when the same
* See the annexed Scheme, page tot.
On an Universal Chinacidd: 99
word denoted females, it would be jj; and when
neuters, simply +], without gender. A reader who
saw these characters would understand them perfect-
ly, though in the English language he must read
them all alike they; and the same in regard to all
its derivatives, them, their, and therrs. In like
manner, the words that are in italics in the schedule
(all of which are deficient in our language, and must
have their place supplied by other words forced
from their natural meaning, by means of the dis-
criminative characters) have their precise meaning
ascertained with the most perfect accuracy, though
we are compelled to express ourselves in the same
inaccurate manner as formerly in speaking. In this
way of proceeding, it is inconceivable what a num-
ber of inaccuracies would be discovered and cor-
rected in every language. For, if the work be car-
ried on in the manner it is begun, all this will be
done, not only without difficulty, but the characters
will be formed even with greater ease than if these
anomalies were not to be at all corrected. Thus
will the character become universal, so that no lan-
guage will ever miss its own excellencies in it,
though those who use it must put up with its defi-
ciences, and supply them in the best way they can
“in reading.
I shall give another example.—The Greek and |
some other modern languages have a definite plural
of two, called the dual number; I see no reason why
100 On an Universal Character.
we might not havea plural of three, oreven more. To
denote that dual plural, instead of the usual plural {,
let it be put] ; and if a plural of three were wanted,
‘j. Wherever a writer wishes to discriminate this
idea he has it in his power; and, though I cannot
put it into English, it can be just as well under-
stood as if I were reading the Greek dual number.
I have carried the distinctions of gender above
no farther than the English language admits of; but
the character needs by no means to be so restricted,
as there would be no difficulty in making as many
discriminations in that respect, as I have marked in
the Essay on Pronouns, in the 11th vol. of the Brg.
But I have already, I fear, tired you, with this partly
unintelligible letter; and shall not proceed farther
than barely to assure you, that I am convinced, if
the gentleman who has begun this investigation can
be induced to continue it till he completes a gram-
mar and a dictionary (which I am persuaded he will
do, if he meet with proper encouragement) this will
prove to be, if not one of the greatest discoveries, at
jeast one of the most useful literary zmprovements of
the present age. I thought you would be well
pleased to hear of the first beginnings of an under.
taking that may prove so extensively useful to
society ; and remain, with much esteem,
sir,
your most humble servant,
GAMES ANDERSON.
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fay [kau [FS fay? [k ans TF ayy ul an [F ‘daneurmoNn
Ca aii 2p oe» ee a ed |
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102
The Inverse Method of Central Forces.
Communicated by Dr. Hoime,
The following Scholium and Proposition are here
introduced by way of Addenda to the paper on the
Inverse Method of Central Forces, given vol. iv. page
369, of these Memorrs, with which they have an
intimate connection; as the proposition leads, in a
different manner, to a conclusion given in the gth
section of the Principia, and as both may yield
some amusement to those who are versed in these
abstract enquiries.
SCHOLIUM TO PROP. III.
If the force which varies as the q power of the
distance reciprocally, act from the centre; or, which
is the same thing, ¢ be negative, then p°=
m P* y*-*
” 5a Aes 22
y’'. At the distance y from the centre, the two
ie CTE as .
forces become —, and — which being made e-
'g j
qual to each qther, the value of y will be determin-
ed, where the curve will have a point of contrary
a a ee
DO ete eo gt ORS
The Inverse Method of Central Forces. 103
1 1
flexure, viz. y = —3— x y= x 1; which will
Cry
be greater or less than r, according as ” is greater
or less than g; ¢ being less than unity. Substitute
this value of y in the above equation, and, at the
same time, suppose y = #; then the point of con-
trary flexure will be at an apse: therefore a simi-
lar and equal curve will be described on the other
side the apse that was described before : but this
is impossible, as the curve is now convex towards
the centre of force; wherefore the body, upon this
supposition, can never arrive at an apse, but will
continually approach nearer and nearer to a circle
described at the distance y determined above;
which circle wil] therefore be an asymptote to the
orbit, or spiral described. By substitution
Ls ped
jess Mm b ier I” a—t1
¢f-* xX Van — my
n—1 <2uS
ir eeeg perpen: ~ ot Kor tak
ltt
M—iakc. Pyar
m P? oo
,or=
Sai sa | Soo
(»— i+cx if ete!
q74 qg—1
Hele
m P* c-*
Sel g ba eM ha a
(mmate. =) x Bi
quart
104 The Inverse Method of Central Forces.
siXn— 1-1-6; whence, by substitution and reduc-
2
fiver m—1 1—q
2rxX {c—- X 1—Cy te
: —1' q—1
aon, $* = CS ee ee eee
at =
ge 4", ee cee (2 cr Pr x c=")
Hence the velocity is determined with which a
body must be projected, so as never to arrive at an
apse, nor ascend beyond, or descend to a circle,
described at the distance c*" x y from the centre
of force.
If n= 2,9 =—1,and P=r, thens?=
z
=<
2+c—363
atc—3ct
—
yoac X 1 Gt tex ape Xie
Wherefore, if the velocity were known with which
a body (as the moon) would move in a circle round
another (as the earth) at the distance 7 of the lower
apse, with the compound force 1 — ¢; then the
velocity is determined with which it must be pro-
jected from that apse, to move in the manner de-
scribed in this Scholium 3 or in such a manner as,
never to arrive at another in any finite number of
revolutions.
Hence it will easily appear, that a very small ya-
riation in the value of s, will occasion a very large
one in the excentricity of the orbit, and in the mo-
tion of the apsides: it is therefore evident that the
two last will increase or decrease at the same time.
The Inverse Method of Central Forces. 105
PROP. V.
‘If a body revolve round a centre, and be acted
upon by a force tending to that centre which varies
as the nth power of the distance inversely, and whose
quantity at an apse, the distance of which apse be-
ing 7, is= 1: likewise; if another body, besides
being subject to this force, be acted upon by an ad-
ditional one, which varies inversely as the gth power
of the distance, its value being ¢ at the same distance
r; it is required to investigate a general expression
‘for the ratio of the angular velocities of the two
bodies when at the same distance from the common
centre of force.
Let the required ratio be that of Fi G. Put y
== common distance, # = perpendicular upon the
tangent to the orbit described by the single’ force,
and » = perpendicular upon the tangent to the
other orbit, drawn from the common centre.
It is evident by Prop. 1st, that F* } G* +t
. ‘ z t
pe 58 + p ; J f 4+ p : + ce ee
Tay oe en ; ++ c P RY
sag jb aNeiede tow
™m x r , a
But (by Prop. ist and 3d) ¢* = = :
VOL. Ve re)
106. The Inverse Method of Central Forces.
Mage ss. ‘
i=
yn oe Cc x ae lag n) ; "
gq
—————————— , writing M here instead of
and pr =
m in Prop. 3d. Hence, by substitution and reduc-
‘ il Mm
tion, Fe i Gc ce ree aT ET
mM—1+y—mr Liye ye
Fe ili
M — 1 — 6+ xy? +o + er yt
q—1 q—1
ee ae, Oh n—1 a ata Ar
Py" — mr. But m = x sand M =
2
Mw—iti + Cc
2
therefore F? ¢ G? $+
+ S* (writing S, for s, in Prop. gd),
Se
(n—1+5°—2) X p—n—1+ SP +a yr
+ i+c+ S
; Gite n—1
2 2
re RAL eer ene, | cag y+
i——i q
2C* bY ial rte SR Pr— Nl —141 4-64
we
, which is general, whatever be the values of x
We xy?
and g, s and S.
Cor. 1. Ifg= 3, then P+ G33
Ga
MU—-1+s*—2 £9 ae Base ace + Ryo) gi
The Inverse Method of Central Forces. 107
4 1toc+ S?
ee ee
'SS— Se ———
(mw — 1*1t+c+S—2—C¢ *n—1)" —
pee Ne aie a fe
(rpc Sern — 3) Oar
where it is evident that if we make »—1+1-+¢+
See ni an — 18°, then. the denomina-
tors will be equal, and therefore F*+ G* 33 s°¢
1. + c+ S*, which is a constant ratio; and. there
fore when g = 3, or when the additional force va-
ries as the cube of the distance reciprocally, the an-
gles, which lines drawn from the bodies to the centre
of force, make with the line passing through the
apse, are in a constant ratio to each other, whatever
be their common distance (the condition mentioned
being observed).
Cor. 2. Becausen—1+1-+0+S*?—con—1=
ae SoC
n—1 * s*, therefore sSlae Let R = rad. of curva-
ture and v = velocity at the apse in the orbit describ-
ed by one force; then the centripetal force at the dis-
2 2
tance n=l = 0» therefore a ‘R: ane ts: =
a ne
Ste R+re RR’, R+7-¢
ai ete hence F? ¢ G* $$ —+} Roa 8
it+c yrrite Y UP
Git 5 a
{ee tt ees
rT '
C=
op)
a. x R= additional force at the apse. But
Y 2
because = 3,9? 3 7? 33
108 The Inverse Method of Central Forces.
»
Ge ee, R a = additional force at the dis-
2
tance y, and the force in the first orbit at the same
distance = —_, therefore the whole compound force
-n ? FF? R z
1 uk G? — ys Soe
Kas EF Ei
Cor, 9. If instead of ( 1), be supposed=force
in the first orbit at the distance 1, it will easily ap-
pear that the compound force in the other orbit, at
La —F yet’
J) I
F ‘
the same expression that is found after a very diffe-
rent manner, Princip. book 1st, sect. gth.
the distance y, will = “:
109
.
Observations on Fron and Steel.
BY JOSEPH COLLIER,
READ NOVEMBER 18TH, 1796.
After examining the works of different authors,
who ‘have written on the subject of making iron
and steel, I am persuaded that the accounts given
by them of the necessary processes and operations
are extremely imperfect. Chemists have examin-
ed and described the various compound minerals
containing iron with great accuracy, but have been
less attentive to their reduction. This observation
more particularly applies to steel, of the making-of
which I have not seen any correct account.
It is singular to observe, how very imperfectly
the cementation of iron has been described by men
of great eminence in the science of chemistry. Cit.
Fourcroy states the length of time necessary for the
cementation of iron to be about twelve hours; but
it is difficult to discover whether he alludes to cast
or to bar steel : for he says, that short bars of iron are
‘to be put into an earthen ‘box with a cement, and
closed up. Now steel is made from bars of iron
of the usual length and thickness; but cast steel is
made according to the process described. by Cit.
Fourcroy, with this essential difference: the opera-
tion is begun upon bar steel and not bar iron,
/
110 Observations on Iron and Steel.
Mr. Nicholson is equally unfortunate in the ac-
count given in his Chemical Dictionary. He says,
that the usual time required for the cementation of
iron is from six to ten hours, and cautions us against
continuing the cementation too long; whereas the
operation, from the beginning to the end, requires
sixteen days at least. In other parts of the opera-
tion he is equally defective, confounding the making
of bar with that of cast steel, and not fully describ-
ing either. In speaking of the uses of steel, or ra-
ther of what constitutes its superiority, Mr. Nicholson
is also deficient. He observes, that “ its most use-
ful and advantageous property is that of becoming
extremely hard when plunged into water.” He has
here forgotten every thing respecting the temper,
and tempering of steel instruments, of which how-
ever he takes some notice in the same page.
«s Plunging into water” requires a little explanation:
for if very hot steel be immersed in cold water with-
out great caution, it will crack, nay, sometimes break
to pieces. It is however necessary to be done, in
order to prevent the steel from growing soft, and
returning to the state of malleable iron; for, were it
permitted to cool in the open air, the carbon which
it holds in combination would be dissipated.*
- * It is the opinion of some metallurgists, that a partial
abstraction of oxygen takes place, by plunging hot metal
into cold water,
—<« oe a
Observations on Iron and Steel. 1it
I shall, at present, confine my remarks to the ope-
rations performed on ironin Sheffield and its neigh-
bourhood: from whence various communications
have been transmitted to me by resident friends,
and where I have myself seen the operations re-
peatedly performed.
The iron made in that part of Yorkshire is pro-
cured from ores found in the neighbourhood, which
are of the argillaceous kind, but intermixed with a
large proportion of foreign matter. These however
are frequently combined with richer ores from
Cumberland and other places. The ore is first
roasted with cinders for three days in the open air,
in order to expel the sulphureous or arsenical parts,
and afterwards taken to the furnaces: some of which
are constructed so that their internal cavity has
the form of two four-sided pyramids joined base to
base; but those most commonly used are of a coni-
cal form, from forty to fifty feet high. The fur-
nace is charged at the top with equal parts of coal-
cinder and lime-stone. The lime-stone acts asa
flux, at the same time that it supplies a sufficient
quantity of earthy matter to be converted into
scoria, which are necessary to defend the reduced
metal from calcination, when it comes near the low-
er part of the furnace. The fire is lighted at the
bottom ; and the heat is excited by means of two pair
of large bellows blowing alternately. The quantity
of air generally thrown into the furnace is from a
112 | / Observations on Fron and Steel.
thousand to twelve hundred square feet in a minute.
The air passes through a pipe, the diameter of which
is from two inches and a quarter, to two and three
quarters, wide. The compression of air which is
necessary is equal to a column of water four feet
and half high. The ore melts as it passes through
the fire and is collected at the bottom, where it is
maintained in a liquid state. The slagg, which falls
down with the fused metal, is let off, by means of an
opening in the side of the furnace, at the discretion
of the workmen.”
When a sufficient quantity of regulus, or imper-
fectly reduced metal, is accumulated at the bottom
of the furnace (which usually happens every eight
hour's), it is let off into moulds; to form it for the
“purposes intended, such as cannon or pig iron.
Crude iron is distinguished into white, black, and
grey. The white is the least reduced, and more
brittle than the other two. The black is that with’
which a large quantity of fuel has been used; and
_the grey is that which has been reduced with a suffi-
cient quantity of fuel, of which it contains a part in
. solution. ;
The operation of refining crude iron consists in.
burning the combustible matter which it holds in so-
lution; at the same time that the remaining iron’ is
more perfectly reduced, and acquires a fibrous tex-
ture. For this purpose, the pigs of cast iron are
taken to the forge; where they are first put into what
‘
Observations on Iron and Steel. 113
is called the refinery: which is an open charcoal-
fire, urged by a pair of bellows, worked by water
or a steam engine; but the compression of air, in
the refinery, ought to be less than that in the blast
furnace. After the metal is melted, it is let out of
the fire by the workmen, to discharge the scorie; and
then returned and subjected to the blast as before.
This operation is sometimes repeated two or three
times before any appearance of malleability (or what-
the workmen call coming into nature) takes place;
this they know by the metal’s first assuming a
granular appearance, the particles appearing to re-
pel each other, or at least to have no signs of attrac-
tion. Soon afterwards they begin to adhere, the at-
traction increases very rapidly, and it is with great
difficulty that the whole is prevented from running
into one mass, which it is desirable to avoid, it be-
ing more convenient to stamp small pieces into thin
cakes: this is done by putting the iron immediately
under the forge hammer and beating it into pieces
about an inch thick, which easily break from the rest
during the operation. These small pieces are then
collected and piled upon circular stones, which are
‘an inch thick, nine inches in diameter, and about
ten inches high. ‘They are afterwards put into a
furnace, in which the fire is reverberated upon them .
until they are in a semi-fluid state. The workmen
then take one out of the furnace and draw it into a
bar under the hammer ; which being finished, they
VOL. V. P
114 Observations on Iron and Steel.
apply the bar to another of the piles of semi-fluid
metal, to which it quickly cements, is taken again to
the hammer, the bar first draw serving as a handle,
and drawn down as before. The imperfections in
the bars are remedied by putting them into another
fire called the chafery, and again subjecting them
to the a€tion of the forge hammer.
~The above method is now most in use, and is
called flourishing; but the iron made by this pro-
cess is in no respect superior to that which I am
going to describe. ‘It is, however, not so expensive,
and requires less labour.
The process for refining crude iron, which was
most common previously to the introduction of
flourishing, is as follows.
The pigs of cast iron are put into the refinery, as
above, where they remain until they have acquired
a consistence resembling paste, which happens in
about two hours anda half. The iron is then taken
out of the refinery and laid upon a cast iron plate on
the floor, and beaten by the workmen with hand
hammers, to knock off the cinders and other extra-
neous matters which adhere to the metal. It is af-
terwards taken to the forge hammer and beaten, first
gently, till it has obtained a little tenacity; then the
middle part of the piece is drawn into a bar, about
half an inch thick, three inches broad, and four feet
long; leaving at each end.a thick square lump of im-
perfect iron. It this foym itis called ancony. Itis
* - ga
Observations on Iron and Steel. 115
now taken to the fire called the chafery, made of
common coal; after which the two ends are drawn
out into the form of the middle, and the operation is
finished.
There is also a third method of rendering crude
iron malleable, which, I think, promises to be abun-
dantly more advantageous than either @f,the two
former, as it will dispense both with the refinery..and
chafery ; and nothing more will be necessary than a>
reverberating furnace, and a furnace to give the me-
tal a malleable heat, about the middle of the opera-
tion. The large forge hammer will also fall into
disrepute, but in its place must be substituted metal
rollers of different capacities, which, like the forge
hammer, must be worked either by a water wheel
or a steam engine.
It is by the operation of the forge hammer or
metal rollers, that the iron is deprived of the re-
maining portion of impurity, and acquires a fibrous
texture.
The iron made by the three foregoing processes
is equally valuable, for by any of them the metal
is rendered pure; but after those different opera-
tions are finished, it is the opinion of many of the
most judicious workers in iron, that laying it in a
damp place, for some time, improves its quality ;
and to this alone, some attribute the superiority of
foreign iron, more time elapsing between making
and using the metal, To the latter part of this opi-
116 Observations on Iron and Steel.
nion I can by no means accede, as it is well
known. that the Swedish* ores contain much less
heterogeneous matter than ours, and are generally
much richer, as they usually yicld about seventy
per quintal of pure iron, whereas the average of
ours is not more than thirty or forty :+ add to this,
that the Swedish ores are smelted in wood fires,
which gives the iron an additional superiority.
Iron instruments are case-hardened by heating
them in a cinder or charcoal fire; but if the first be
used, a quantity of old leather, br bones, must be
burnt in the fire to supply the metal with carbon.
The fire must be urged by a pair of bellows to a
sufficient degree of heat; and the whole operation
is usually,completed in an hour.
The process for case-hardening iron, is in fact
the same as for converting iron into steel, but not
continued so long, as the surface only of the article
is to be impregnated with carbon.
Some attempts have been made to give cast iron, by
case hardening, the texture and ductility of steel, but
they have not been very successful. Table and pen-
knife blades have been made of it, and, when ground,
* Steel is commonly made of Swedish iron.
_ + The iron made from the ore found in the neighbour-
hood of Sheffield, contains a great deal of phosphate of
iron, or siderite, which renders the metal brittle when
cold.
PONTO an
Observations on Iron and Steel. 417
have had a pretty good appearance; but the edges
are not firm, and they soon lose their polish. Com-
mon table knives are frequently made of this metal.
The cementation of iron converts it into steel :-—
a substance intermediate between crude and malle-
able iron. .
The furnaces for making steel are conical build-
ings; about the middle of which are two troughs of
brick or fire-stone, which will hold about four tons of
iron in the bar. At the bottom is a long grate for fire.
The steel furnace, however, is not well adapted for
description. I shall therefore avail myself of an
accurate drawing, which was communicated to me
by a gentleman conversant with the manufacture,
and which is copied in plate I, page 122.
A layer of charcoal-dust is put upon the bottom
of the trough; and, upon that, a layer of bar iron, and
so on alternately until the trough is full. It is then
covered over with clay to keep out the air; which, if
admitted, would effectually prevent the cementation.
When the fire is put into the grate, the heat pas-
ses round by means of flues, made at intervals, by
the sides of the trough. The fire is continued until
the conversion is complete, which generally happens
in about eight or ten days. There is a hole in the
side by which the workmen draw out a bar occasion- |
ally, to see how far the transmutation has proceeded.
This they determine by the blisters upon the surface
of the bars. Ifthey be not sufficiently changed, the
hole is again closed carefully to exclude the air ; but
118 ‘ Observations on Iron and Steel.
a]
if, on the contrary, the change be complete, the fire
is extinguished, and the steel is left to cool for about
eight days more, when:the process for making blis-
tered steel. is finished.
For small wares, the bars are drawn under the
tilt hammer, to about half an inch broad and three
sixteenths of an inch thick.
The change wrought on blistered steel by the
tilt hammer, is nearly similar to that effected on
iron from the refinery by the forge hammer. It is
made of a more firm texture, and drawn into con-
venient forms for use.
German steel is made by breaking the bars of
blistered steel into small pieces, and then putting a
number of them into a furnace; after which they
are welded together and drawn to about eighteen
inches long; then doubled and welded again, and
‘finally drawn to the size and shape required for use.
This is also called shear steel, and is superior in
quality to the common tilted steel.
Cast steel is also made from the common blistered
steel. The bars are broken and put into large cru-
cibles with a flux. ‘The crucible is then closed up
with a lid of the same ware, and placed in a wind
furnace. By the introduction of a greater or smal-
Jer quantity of. flux, the metal is made harder or
softer.. When the fusion is complete, the metal is
Cast into ingots, and then called ingot steel; and
that which afterwards undergoes the- operation of
tilting, is called tilted cast-steel.. a
, Observations on Iron and Steel. 119
The cast steel is the most valuable, as its texture
is the most compact and it admits of the finest po-
lish.
Sir T. Frankland has communicated a process,
in the Transactions of the Royal Society,* for weld-
ing cast steel and malleable iron together; which,
he says, is done, by giving the iron a malleable, and
the steel a white heat; but, from the experiments
which have been made at my request, it appears,
that it is only soft cast steel, little better than com-
mon steel, that will weld to iron: pure steel will
not; for, at the heat described by Sir T. the best
cast steel either melts or will not bear the hammer.
It may here be observed, as was mentioned be-
fore, that steel is an intermediate state between crude
and malleable iron, except in the circumstance of
its reduction being complete; for, according to the
experiments of Reaumur and Bergman, steel con-
tains more hydrogen gas than cast iron, but less than
malleable iron ;—less plumbago than the first, but
more than the latter;—an equal portion of manganese
with each;—less siliceous earth than either —more
iron than the first, but less than the second. Its
fusibility is likewise intermediate, between the bar
iron and the crude. When steel has been gradual-
ly cooled from a state of ignition, it is malleable and °
soft, like bar iron; but when ignited and plunged into
* Phil, Trans, 1795.
120 Observations on Iron and Steel.
‘cold water, it has the hardness and brittleness’ of
crude iron.
From ‘the foregoing facts, we are justified in
drawing the same conclusions with Reaumur and
Bergman, but which have been more perfectly ex-
plained by Vandermonde, Berthollet, and Monge,
that crude iron is a regulus, the reduction of which
is not complete; and which consequently will differ
according as it approaches more or less to the
metallic state. Forged iron, when previously well
refined, is the purest metal; for it is then the most
malleable and the most ductile, its power of weld-
ing is the greatest, and it acquires the magnetic qua-
lity soonest. © Steel ‘consists of iron perfectly re-
duced and combined with charcoal; and the various
differences in blistered steel, made of the same me-
tal, consist in the greater or less proportion of char-
coal imbibed.
Iron gains, by being converted into steel, about
the hundred and eightieth part of its weight.
In order to harden steel, it must be put into a
clean charcoal, coal, or cinder-fire, blown to a suf-
ficient degree of heat by bellows. The workmen
say, that neither iron nor steel will harden properly
without a blast. When the fire is sufficiently hot,
the instrument intended to be hardened must be put
in, and a gradual blast from the bellows continued
until the metal has acquired a regular red heat; it
is then to be carefully quenched in cold water. If
Observations on Tron and Steel. 121
the steel be too hot when immersed in water, the
grain will be of a rough and coarse texture; but
if of a proper degree of heat, it will be perfectly
fine. Saws and some other articles are quenched
in oil. |
Steel is tempered by again subjecting it to the
action of the fire. _ The instrument to be tempered
we will suppose to be a razor made of cast steel.
First rub it upon a grit stone until it is bright; then
put the back upon the fire, and in a short time the
edge will become of a light straw colour, whilst the
back is blue.‘ The straw colour denotes a proper
temper either for a razor, graver, or penknife,
Spring knives require a dark brown; Scissars, a
light brown, or straw, colour 3 forks or table knives,
a blue. The blue colour marks the proper temper
for swords, watch-springs, or any thing requiring
elasticity. The springs for penknives are covered
over with oil before they are exposed to the fire to
temper, 3
VOL, Vv. 2
Diy
eke
=u
122 B : 2 bit sa" Bi. x eS he
EXPLANATION OF THE PLATE.
) Fig. 1 ig a plan of the: furnace, and od is a section
of it taken at the line A.B.» The plan. is sen.at, the line
CD, _ The same parts fib fie are ma rked. w
same lettérs in the plan ar the section,
pots or troughs into which the bars of iron are
converted, F is the firéiplaée 5 P, ‘the’ fire bars. 3 and R,
the ash-pit. GG, &e. are the flues, .H H isan arch, the
inside of the bottom,of, which, corresponds. with the line
IIKI » fg 1, a the, top. of it ‘is made it in the form. of a
dome, having a hole in the centreat K, fe >, LL, &c.are
six chimneys, MM ei similar to that of a glass-h Ouse,
€oveting the Whole) At’ N’ there is an arched opening, at
which the materials aretaken in and out of the furnace, and
ai which i is closely. built up when the furnace is charged,
At OO there a holes in each pot, through which the ends
of three or four of the bars are made to project quite out
of the furnace, These are called tasting bars, one of them
being drawn out occasionally to see if the iron be suffi-
ciently converted.
. The pots are made of fire-tiles, or fire-stone. The bot- .
toms of them are made of two courses, each course being
hicknéss « of the single course which forms the
f the pots. The insides of the pots are of one
course, about double the thickness of the outside. The
partitions of the, flues are made of ea which‘are of
different thicknesses, as represented in the plan, and by
dotted lines in the bottom of the pots, These are for sup-
porting the sides of the pots, and for directing the flame
- €qually round them, The great object is to communi-
~-eate to the whole an equal degree of heat in every part.
‘The fuel : put in at each end of the furnace, and the fire
is made the whole length of the potsand kept up as equal-
ly “Te : a
ee ,
fe
i
aa
.
4
:
4
Ere Yo
Springs at Lemington Priors. 1814
pipe upon charcoal. It consists, therefore, of oxyd
of iron, either totally or in part; but whether it is
derived from the liquor, or from the iron which was
used to procure it, cannot be determined by this
experiment. But the following observation de-
monstrates, that iron is contained in the water its-
self. 3. The water was boiled in a copper vessel,
and the precipitate formed was collected. This is
also of a yellow colour: and, exposed to the flame
of a blowpipe on charcoal, (like the former precipi-
tate) it became magnetic. It seems also to contain
copper; for, precipitating its solution in muriatic
acid by ammoniac, the liquor became blue; the co-
lour, however, was by no means strong.
When the salts of the water have been con-
centrated by evaporation, copper is acted upon
more powerfully; insomuch, that if a silver spoon
be used for the evaporation, it is much tarnished,
and the salts acquire a cupreous taste and a yellow
tinge, though they are colourless if the evaporation
be made in glass. These vestiges of copper must
be attributed to the alloy of the spoon.
The appearances I have described surprised me »
the more, as, from the use of some of the common
re-agents, I had formed opposite conclusions. 4.
Prussiat of potash, before the water has been boiled, _
forms a green cloud; but ina quantity hardly suffi-
cient to precipitate. After boiling, there is no de-
composition; nor is there any if the liquor be eva-
182 An Analysis of two Mineral
porated to half its original bulk. 5. Tincture of
galls strikes a purple colour before the water is
boiled; after boiling, there is a precipitate likewise, -
but of a dull lemon-colour; after a partial evapora-
tion, the colour approaches to whiteness. In each
of the two last cases, the liquor gradually acquires a
deep yellow tinge.—In these experiments, we have
none of the ordinary signs of iron, except of the
carbonat (11.), though its existence in the water has
been proved beyond question (3.).
V. MANGANESE IS DISSOLVED IN THIS
WATER.
As zinc is known to have a stronger affinity to
acids than the other metals have, I hoped by its
mean to obtain some information on the cause of
the facts I have described. 1. I boiled, therefore,
some of the water in a glazed vessel, in contact
with some pieces of zinc: a small precipitate was
formed, but enough to be collected for examination
with the blowpipe. This was fused with borax;
and a globule was formed of a rich red colour, pre-
cisely that communicated by manganese.* Continu-
ing the fusion the colour vanished; nor could I
make it re-appear by the yellow flame of the blast:
probably, because the manganese was mixed with
another metal. The globule was removed to a sil-
* For the properties of this mineral, see Scheele’s Essay
on Manganese; or Bergman on the white Ores of Iron,
Springs at Lemington Priors. 183
ver spoon; and, then, by fusion, it regained the red
colour. Toavoid the possibility oferror, alittle man-
ganese, fused with borax in the same manner,was plac-
ed beside the red globule ; and no difference could
be perceived in the colour of the two globules, ex-
cept a slight variety in the intensity.* 2. The Jemon-
coloured precipitate, formed by the tincture of galls
(iv. §-), yields the same result. By using a large
quantity of water, I collected sufficient for exami-
nation. This I put over a fire on an iron plate:
the vegetable part took fire and burnt away: the
powder became of an ochry yellow, and was mag-
netic :—fused with borax, by the blowpipe, it ac-
quired the redness which manganese imparts.
3- The same fact may be proved by a single ex-
periment. It is known, that tartrite of potash
decomposes salts of manganese by a double affini-
ty; in consequence of which, tartrite of manga-
nese, which is a substance insoluble in water, pre-
cipitates.t I poured, therefore, a solution of tar-
trite of potash into the water; and there fell a co-
pious crystalline precipitate. Much iron fell down
* I am aware of the observation of Bergman, that zinc
‘does not precipitate solutions of manganese, See his Es-
Says, vol. iii. p. 414. But, besides that I describe only
what I have seen, it will appear that the salt in question is
of so peculiar a nature, that it cannot be expected to obey
the usual analogies of the other solutions,
t See Scheele, as above,
184 An Analysis of two Mineral
with the manganese, as might be expected from the
affinity between the oxyds of these metals: for, by
fusing the precipitate with nitre, green spots were
formed on the sides of tie crucible.
Tartrite of potash decomposes likewise salts of
lime, as is well known; but the tartrite of lime is
precipitated in the form of a white powder which is
not sensibly crystalline. But, as there is a great
abundance of lime in this water, (xiv.) it seems
probable that it had entered into the composition of
these crystals.
Manganese has been but rarely noticed as enter-
ing into the composition of mineral waters, The
reason, perhaps, is, that it has been seldom looked
for, rather than that it seldom exists; since it is now
known to be a substance very abundantly diffused
through the earth. The waters of Astrop, which I
have mentioned above (111. 2.), decompose tar-
trite of potash and form a crystalline precipitate,
when its carbonat of lime has been thrown down by
boiling. This water, in ese circumstances, hardly
affects either tincture of galls or prussiat of potash.
Every chalybeate spring may be suspected to con-
tain some manganese likewise; and should, there-
fore, be examined accordingly.
VI. TESTS OF MANGANESE AND IRON,
As I shall have frequent occasion to mention
this mixture of the oxyds of manganese and iron, I
Pip wy
Springs at Lemington Priors. 185
will enumerate the tests I have used, to avoid use-
less repetitions. These are, 1. the magnet: to
this the smallest particle of iron may be rendered
obedient, by exposing it to a due heat, on charcoal,
by the blowpipe. 2. The tinge communicated by
the same process to a globule of borax: this from
iron is green or yellow; from manganese it is hya-
cynthine; or, when the globule is more loaded
with the metal, a.fine rich red. This colour disap-
pears by the blue conical flame; and may be re-
produced by the gentler yellow flame which sur-
rounds the cone. g. Fusion. with nitre or with
carbonat of soda: manganese imparts to them a fine
blue’colour; but if it be mixed with the oxyd of
iron, the colour is green, |
Vil. AN HYPOTHESIS TO EXPLAIN THE
CAUSE OF THE PHA NOMENA,
The first hypothesis which I framed, to account
for the facts in question, was deduced from the well
known property which manganese possesses of oxy-
genating the muriatic acid. My reasoning was as
follows.—Since, during the solution of the black
oxyd of manganese in the muriatic acid, a portion
of the acid becomes oxygenated, it must follow:
that, if this portion should meet and combine with
a metallic oxyd, the salt, formed by such an union,
must be super-oxygenated. But in this state of oxy-
dation, doubtless, is a great part of the iron which is
VOL. V, a
186 An Analysis of two Mineral
so abundantly diffused through the earth. Are then
the appearances in question the result of these cir-
cumstances? In short, are the salts muriat of man-
ganese and oxygenated muriat of iron? In pursu-
ance of this idea, I formed some oxygenated mu-
riat of iron, by mixing some yellow oxyd of iron
(the rubigo ferri of the shops) with water, and ex-
posing it, by a proper apparatus, to the oxygenated
muriatic acid gas. The gas readily dissolves a part
of the exyd, a few bubbles (perhaps of carbonic
acid) escaping during the solution. 1. The salt
which is formed is deliquescent; colourless; of a
pure bitter taste, without any of the sweet astrin-
gency of the common salts of iron.* | Alkalis pre-
cipitate a white oxyd. The mineral acids, also, de-
compose the salt; and, at the same time, a white
matter, of a crystalline form, precipitates, but an
excess of acid re-dissolves the precipitate.t 2. If
some metallic iron be digested in a solution of this
-
* By far the best method of making this salt, is to,put
the rust in a saucer, and to put the mixture of manganese
and muriatic acid, diluted to avoid a strong effervescence,
in a cup on the same saucer; then to cover the cup with
an inverted glass: thus the oxygenated vapour will be con-
fined as itis slowly extricated. If distillation is used, the
salt can be hardly made free from an astringent taste.
+ The sulphuric acid does not re-dissolve the precipi-
tate; the othersdo. Some further remarks on this subject
will be found (x1v, 6.) -
Springs at Lemington Priors. 187
salt, an ochre precipitates copiously, which is very
soluble in acids. Copper also decomposes the salt,
but the matter precipitated is in small quantity and
hardly soluble in acids. 3. Prussiat of potash is
totally unaffected by this salt: so, likewise, is tinc-
ture of galls, when the salt is quite perfect ;* but af-
ter iron has been digested with it, galls communicate
a yellow tinge, or even precipitate a brownish mat-
ter: still the prussiat of potash has no effect. These
properties of the salt bear so strong a resemblance
to the appearances which I have remarked in the
water, particularly in the effects of the metals (iv.
2 & 3.) and the failure of the re-agents (1v. 4 &
5+), that it strongly confirmed me in the hypothesis
I had adopted. On pursuing the experiment, how-
ever, the analogy failed. I added, to the salt of
iron, very minute quantities of muriat of manga-
nese; but how small so ever was the quantity used,
and however much it was diluted, the manganese
was instantly detected by prussiat of potash. I was
therefore forced to conclude, that, if oxygenated
muriat of iron is really an ingredient of this water,
it must be formed by a process different from that
which I had imagined,
* I once saw the galls forma white precipitate; but I
suspect the oxygenated, was contaminated with some com-
mon muriatic acid, formed by its decomposition during the
digestion,
188 An Analysis of two Mineral
VIII. THE APPEARANCES IN QUESTION
ARE PRODUCED BY THE ACTION OF HE.
PATIC GAS ON IRON AND MANGANESE.
_- An observation of Bergman, though in_ part er-
roneous, has conducted me, as J think, to the true
cause of these appearances; and J am greatly mistak-
en, if its consequences, when fully pursued, are not of
considerable importance to chemical science. Berg-
man has asserted, that hepatised water, in which iron
filings have been kept for some days, in a well closed
vessel, grows purple with tincture of galls: if the
iron be dissolved by an acid, the colour approaches
more to violet. He moreover adds, that the solu-
tion of iron in hepatised water 7s not at all rendered
turbid by prussiat of potash.* This latter fact ‘pro-
mised to throw some light on the subject of my en-
quiry, particularly when it was joined to the fact of
the hepatic smell, which the water has when recently
drawn (1.). I was the more strongly induced to pay
attention to this combination, from the contradictory
assertion of another very eminent chemist. Mr.
Kirwan has denied that hepatic gas can dissolve iron
or any other metal.t To ascertain this point, I have
made numerous experiments with the greatest cau-
tion and accuracy that I have been able to apply.
The hepatic gas which I have used was obtained
* Bergman’s Essays, Dissertation vii, 4, L,
t Philosophical Transactions for 1786,
Springs at Lemington Priors. 189
from sulphuret of iron, formed by fusing equal parts
of iron and flowers of sulphur; and (except in some
instances, which will be particularly noticed as they
occur) was extricated by diluted sulphuric acid.
The gas was collected under water: which method
was preferred; to purify it, if possible, from extra-
neous acid. 1. I digested iron-filings, previously
purified by repeated washings with distilled water,
in a-solution of hepatic gas in distilled water: the
bottle was filled with the solution, and corked.
The iron was presently acted upon; numerous bub-
bles arose, which drove the cork out of the bottle;
they were strongly inflammable, and probably,
therefore, pure hydrogen gas: the liquor gradually
lost its hepatic odour; and, at the end of some days,
it had a smell a good deal resembling that of stag-
nant rain water; as the bubbles ceased to be pro-
duced, it recovered its transparency. The liquor
was then examined by reagents. Infusion of galls
struck a yellow tinge; prussiat of potash gave a lit-
tle whitish cloud; nitrat of silver and muriat of ba-
rytes, each very minute precipitates; pure potash a
yellow precipitate, but not till the liquor had stood
an hour or two. The liquor does not deposit any
thing, either by exposure to the atmosphere or by a
boiling heat: but, by this last process, something
(perhaps a little gas which has escaped the action of
the iron) flies off; since the precipitate with nitrat of
silver was white after the boiling, which had previous
‘
190 An Analysis of two Mineral
to it been black. Very little can be deduced with
certainty from these trials, except the presence of a
little sulphuric acid. It seemed of consequence to
determine, whether this is generated in the process ;
or is accidental, from the sulphuric acid which was
used to extricate the gas.
2. To determine this point, I repeated the expe-
riment, using the muriatic acid to generate the gas,
instead of the sulphuric. In this case, the liquor (as
Bergman has said) is not at all rendered turbid by
ptussiat of potash; neither does the muriat of barytes
precipitate any thing; the precipitate by pure potash
is now white, but as minute as before; nitrat of sil-
ver makes a yellow cloud both before and after boil-
ing; infusion of galls strikes a yellow tinge. Hence
it is clear, that hepatic gas, when produced by sul-
phuric acid, carries with it a little of the acid which
cannot be separated by passing it through water. It
seems probable also, that a little muriatic acid is car-
ried up in like manner, when this is used to extricate
the hepatic gas. We may farther conclude that though
the remark of Bergman (on the effect of the prussiat
of potash) is true; the remark which accompanies it
(on the colour produced by infusion of galls) is er-
roneous. A purple colour is always, I believe, oc-
casioned by extraneous acid; in which case, the.
prussiat of potash is also precipitated. From the
same facts, we are enabled to detect another error
also, into which the same great man has been be-
Springs at Lemington Priors, 191
trayed. In his analysis of the acidulous waters of
Medvi in Ostro-Gothland,* he has noticed a resi-
duum of 4% grains of iron, dissolved partly by he-
patic gas, partly by carbonic acid. Now, we have
seen, that there is no decomposition of these liquors
by boiling; nor does any oxyd precipitate how long
soever the evaporation be continued.’ The hepatic
gas seems to be totally decomposed: nitric acid
dropped into these liquors precipitates nothing.
Are we then to conclude with Mr. Kirwan, that
hepatic gas does not dissolve iron or any other me-
tal? As the gas itself is decomposed, this, in strict
propriety of language, must be allowed to be true;
but, that some solution is effected during ‘the de-
composition, the following remarks evince. 3. A
piece of clean and bright iron was put into some of
the hepatised solution (if I may be allowed so to
call it, while its true composition is unknown); it
soon became turbid; a copious ochry precipitate
fell down; and, in twenty-four hours, the whole
surface of the iron was covered with rust. 4. Let
the solution be boiled in a copper vessel, a precipi-
tate also separates of an ochry colour; but it is
smaller in quantity than in the former experiment.
5. Digest a piece of clean iron in the solution after
it has been. boiled in a copper vessel; much ochry
matter still separates; but there is no vestige of me-
* Bergman’s Essays, Dissertation y111, 6,
192 An Analysis of two Mineral
tallic copper on the iron plate. 6. Digest copper
filings in the liquor in which iron filings have been
previously digested; separate the copper filings, and
now let a piece of bright iron be put into the liquor;
in this case, copper is deposited on the surface of
the iron in its metallic state. 7. Put a small piece
of sulphat of argill into a glass of the solution, after
fresh iron filings have been digested with it ; a white
stratum forms at the bottom of the glass, but, after
some time, it is re-dissolved and the liquor resumes
its transparency. 8. Put a little oxygenated muriat
of mercury into a glass of the hepatised solution;
as it dissolves, a white matter collects on the sides,
and falls to the bottom, of the glass. g. Infusion
of galls, after the fresh iron has been digested with
the solution, precipitates the iron of a dark colour;
still the prussiat of potash does not become turbid.—
From al] these facts it is clear, that, as the iron com-
bines with the sulphur of the hepatic gas, a peculiar
substance is formed and dissolved in the water, which
has hitherto been unnoticed by chemical writers, as
far as has fallen within my information. That this
substance is contained in the waters of the spring un-
der our present examination seems fully established,
by the concurrent ێvidence of so many phenomena
in which they completely coincide. Compare 111.
LOG,2.1Vs 15 25 .Bo\hy OG:
Springs at Lemingion Priors. 193
IX. MANGANESE EXPOSED TO HEPATIC
GAS.
To complete the demonstration, it is necessary to
examine the action of hepatic gas upon manganese.
1. I digested some black oxyd of manganese in
hepatised water: it had been previously purified, by
being boiled repeatedly in distilled water.* The
hepatic smell of the gas is quickly impaired; and,
in twenty-four hours, if enough of the oxyd has
been used, it is perfectly destroyed; still the liquor
has a peculiar smell, which can hardly be called of-
fensive: no gas is extricated in this process. The
liquor, after filtration, was examined by the same
reagents as the hepatised solution of iron (viit. 1.)
with nearly a similar result; a minute quantity of
sulphuric acid was detected ; prussiat of potash gave
a small white cloud, tincture of galls a slight yellow
tinge. Repeating the experiment with gas extricat-
ed by muriatic acid, there was, in this case, no trace
of sulphuric acid, and the liquor was not at all ren-
dered turbid by prussiat of potash. From both
these solutions pure potash separates a very minute
white precipitate. 2. But, in one respect, these so-
lutions differed from the solutions of iron; for, by
* The readiest method of purifying this substance is, to
boil it first in a very large quantity of rain water; after
which, a single boiling in distilled water will be sufficient
to extract every soluble impurity.
VOL. V. AA
194 An Analysis of two Mineral
these nitrat of silver is instantaneously decomposed,
and a copious precipitate separates; it is of a dark
brown or yellow colour, as if from a combination
of sulphur. Oxygenated muriat of mercury let fall
a white matter much more plentifully than from the
solutions of iron. Tartrite of potash is decompos-
ed, and a fine crystalline substance is separated,
which is the tartrite of manganese.
g. This solution is affected by metals in a man-
ner similar to thé solution of iron.
pena Aram
nets Kl
iter weet
ye NEE
Lad * + 7
M och
pee e ate Vee ; Mabey Be eS te
Soe Ut are Me eee ere 7
SAYRE 8 se eR
Bint ot
, SUV NUR NRW
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CONTENTS.
emer ia ities 1 wiih Wad et ed
On Tragedy and the Interest in Tragical
Representations: An Essay. By the Rev.
George Walker, F. R. S. and Professor of
Theology in the New College, Manchester. page 319
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ON TRAGEDY & THE INTEREST IN TRAGICAL
REPRESENTATIONS,
AN ESSAY:
BY THE REVEREND GEO. WALKER, F. R. Si
And Professor of Theology inthe New College, Manchester.
Tag
The propensity which human natute has, in
every age and nation, discovered for spectacles
and representations of a tragic kind, though it
be universally confessed, that the sensations
and passions excited thereby are in their
nature painful, and often exquisitely so, is at
first view so singular and contradictory a pheno-~—
menon, as could not fail to draw the attention of
moralists and philosophers; and challenge all
their ingenuity to reconcile so irregular a trait
VOL, V. A
320 On Tragical Representations.
of the human character, with the most approved
likeness of the human mind. There are, indeed,
some examples of this propensity so rude, unci-
vilized, and inhuman, as mock all efforts of in-
genuity to reduce them to a consistent and.
agreeable system. Such were the exhibitions of
gladiators, among the Romans; the tournaments
and justs of gothic chivalry; such are the bull-
fights of the Spaniards; the combats with the
broad sword; the bull-baitings, cock-fights, and
Shrove-tide amusements of our own nation; to-
gether with the horrid jollity of the North
American tribes, exulting over the tortures of
their ill-fated_prisoners. .
Most or all of these national reproaches are,
in a greater or less degree, the offspring of a
rude military genius, and savage heroism; which,
by an early familiarity with the excesses and
cruelties of war, let loose in all its wildness, have
triumphed over nature, over the kinder dictates
ofa general humanity. In'these, the pleasure of
the spectators, unnatural as it is, is pure and un-
mixed; by whatever means they have subdued
their minds to the capacity of this pleasure, when
once the relish is acquired, their continued pro-
pensity to such scenes is perfectly ‘natural, as it
is not combated by any feeling of sympathetic
pain during the exhibition. ‘This is clearly at-
tested of the Roman people, by the uniform ac-
counts of their own historians: foreign nations
es
On Tragical Representations, 321
ascribed their hardiness in war to this familiarity
with blood and death in the amphitheatre ; and
a Syrian monarch, ambitious, at any rate, to
rival the Roman grandeur, hoped to render his
effeminate Asiatics equally intrepid and unap-
palled amidst the horrors of battle, by introduc-
‘ing the same sanguinary entertainments in peace.
It is a proof that humanity had little interest in
the fatal consequences of the Gothic tournaments,
and bull-fights of the Spaniards, when that sex,
whom.compassion and an abhorrence from spec-
tacles of blood may be supposed the last to for-
sake, was admitted to the most conspicuous seats ;
as if to gratify them were the chief object of the
entertainment. All is mad mirth, and drunken
joy, with an American village, while their cap-
tive is wasting under their protracted tortures ;
compassion, or even indifference, would vitiate
the festival. Humanity may have repelled from,
but never invited a single guest to the cruel en-
tertainments of our own nation. It is to that
polished humanity, which a cultivated philosophy
anda purer religion have introduced amongst us,
that we owe the disrepute into which these vulgar
jollities have at length happily fallen.
Such representations are, therefore, utterly
dissimilar, in their effects upon the heart, to the
representations of tragedy and romance. Hu-
manity renounces the one, but welcomes the
other, In those a brutal joy reigns triumphant ;
322 On Tragical Representations.
in these—if there be a joy, it is of a singular
kind : it wears all the dress of sorrow; and the
heart feels that there is a pain more than pro-
portioned to the joy. It is surely, therefore,
unphilosophical, to reduce, under one class,
propensities which are of so different a cast and
influence ; nor can that ingenious French critic,
the Abbé du Bos, be justified, in deriving them,
without distinction, from one common source in
the human mind,
But whence then is derived, and how are we
to account for, this strange intermixture of pain
and a something like joy, excited, in the same
instant, by the same object, each apparently de-
pendant on each other, and yet not blended to-
gether in one undistinguished mass.—Before I
attempt the solution of this singular, but univer-
sal character of man, it may not be amiss to take
a brief view of some of the most celebrated
theories on this subject, and the rather, as the
examination of these mav lead to the true so-
lution.
The French critic just mentioned, the Abbé
du Bos, whose reflections on poetry, painting,
and music, form a very entertaining work, refers
the solution of this difficulty to that aversion
which we have to indolence ; and in consequence
to the delight we feel in having our most active
and lively passions roused.
This account: is striking and bold, as it de=
On Tragical Representations. 323
xives a great deal from one simple and uniform
principle. If, indeed, there be such a principle
in human nature, exactly .as he represents it,
original and independant ; and if it be adequate
to the effect which he ascribes to it; and if the
mind be sensible of such a reference in the in-
stant of its most interesting emotions; and if the
inclination to be thus moved, be proportioned to
the force of this supposed principle; we could
not wish for a more satisfactory solution, for one
which more happily applied itself to the whole
subject in question. * .
Another ingenious Frenchman, Monsieur
Fontenelle, so well known to the literary world
by his Dialogues, History of Oracles, and Plu-
rality of Worlds, in some reflections on the sub-
ject of poetry, has hazarded the following fine-
spun. theory :—Pleasure and pain, says he, like
many other extremes, approach, and, at a certain
point, pass into each other. Pleasure, pushed
too far, becomes pain; and the movement of
‘pain, a little moderated, becomes pleasure.—
He is obliged to adopt into his system the funda-
mental principle of Du Bos; for the heart, he
says, loves to be moved, and therefore objects,
which are melancholy, and even disastrous and
sorrowful, are adapted'to it; provided that they ©
are softened by some circumstance. ‘This soft-
ning circumstance, according tohim, is the com-
fortable ‘reflection, that the whole is but a fiction;
324 On Tragical Representations,
without which, the spectacle would be painful
beyond the degree, in which it is capable of
passing into pleasure,
This is the spirit of Fontenelle’s theory; 2
theory so exceedingly refined, that we hardly
know how to lay hold of it. It does not present
us with any thing analogous to the real feelings
of the heart; andis, indeed,contradictory to the
very nature of things. Pleasure and pain, as sim-
ple sensations, have no intercourse with each
other ; though the transitions from the one to the
other may be exceedingly quick, and may have
their origin from the same external objects. For
as objects are of a mixed character, the sensations
may be mixed also; and in some, the painful
circumstance, after a certain interval, may dis-
appear, and vice versa. But where the characters
of the painful and the pleasant continue undi-
minished, the sensations which correspond, to
them will continue also; and each, as the causes
of them are alternately contemplated, be) sepa-
rately excited; or that, which is the balance of
the separate sensations will remain,
If, as Fontenelle asserts, pain can of itself ;
pass into pleasure, and without any additional
cause, and it be in the moment of the transition
that the pleasureable; sensation presents itself, it
will be exceedingly difficult to determjne, accord-
ing to this theory, what the predominant sensa-
tign will be. If the. painful sensation .be then
On Tragical Representations. 325
evanescent, the pleasureable' one ought to be
nearly unmixed ; ‘if the painful’ one be then at
its height,’ the sensatron .of pleasure must be
hardly perceivable,* and cannot, methinks, ac-
count for the interest which we have in the re-
presentation. For the feelings, during a tragical
representation, are not of this dubious and: inde-
terminate character; the pain’ and’'the pleasure,
if we must give the denomination of pleasure to
the interest which we have in the spectacle, ‘are
distinct, and at'the same moment are each ‘highly
exquisite. There is, m truth, no passing of the
one into the other. .
It is a farther objection to the theory of
Fontenelle, that he has assigned no proper source
of pleasure, which can give its complexion to the
pain ; the circumstance which he has noticed is
merely an alleviation, and can only account for
a diminution of the pain. This circumstance of
the whole being but a fiction, has exceedingly
little, if any, influence in softening and alleviat-
ing our painful sensation ; though it be true, that
if it were a spectacle of real misery, we should
be repelled from approaching it at all. But it is
also true, that the more the fiction is kept out of
view, the more perfect is the art of the poet, and
the more perfect the effect of the imitation upon
the mind of the spectator ; whose interest rises to
its greatest height, when, by a kind of divine
power, he is carried entirely out of the consider-
326 On Tragical Representations.
ation of self, and contemplates nothing but the
misery, as if it were real, and enters into it with.
all the glow of natural feeling. The solution,
therefore, must be sought. for in some other
principle than the whimsical conceit of a middle
something, between pleasure and pain, founded
on the cold reflection, that the whole is a de-
lusion. It may. account, in some degree, for
the phlegmatic dialogues of a French. tragedy
maker; and for the dubious.sensation, the mid-
die something between. pleasure and pain, which
they excite; but will never unfold the feelings
which the magic genius of Shakespeare stirs up
in the soul.
The selfish system in morals, which extracts
a joy out of a painful scene, from the groveling
consideration, that, whatever sufferings are ex-
hibited to our view, we are ourselves in a state
of perfect security, is so grossly false, that a
moment’s consideration shakes it off with indig-
nation, and leaves it to the sordid soul, which
first conceived the idea. This would suppose
that suffering and distress were in themselves a
grateful spectacle, if they affect not ourselves ;
that there was a real malignity in the human
heart, and that it recurred to them as to a feast.
This is a horrid untruth ; such spectacles are, in
their nature, painful ; and all that the consider_
ation of our own security can effect, will be
enly to render them less painful; but of itself
the. =
On Tragical Representations. 327
can give us no interest in them, nor render them
at all attracting to us.
The celebrated David Hume has offered a
more plausible theory ; or rather, has added to
the systems of Du Bos and Fontenelle; by re-
ferring the greatest part of that pleasure, which
springs out of the bosom of uneasiness, and yet
retains all the features and symptoms of distress
and sorrow, to the bewitching power of that
eloquence, with which the melancholy scene is
represented. The effect, he says, is like to the
composition of two forces, which, combining to-=
gether, produce a new direction, a direction not
contrary to that of either, but partaking of
both.
Of these four illustrations of the question, the
first and the last, viz. of Du Bos and Hume,
require a particular discussion, in the progress
of which, the truth will probably unfold its
self. ;
‘It isa misfortune, in moral as in natural phi-
losophy, that the theory, which is to account
for important phenomena, is often the creature~
of a bold and lively imagination, and not the
modest result of* careful observation and expe-
riment. As a theory, which is built on this
solid ground of observation and experiment, °
will always follow us downwards to the explana-~
tion of facts ; so every fanciful system is found
VOL. V B
328 On Tragical Representations,
to decline this test; and, if compelled thereto,
confesses its insufficiency to account for the phe-
nomena of nature.
It is, therefore, a general objection to both
these systems, in the first view of them, that the
principles, to whose operation they ascribe such
singular effects, are either not at all present to the
mind, while.their influence is supposed to be
exerted and felt; or make a very dubious ap-
pearance, and utterly vanish at that critical mo-
ment, when the effect of the tragic imitation is
' the greatest ; viz. when their presence ought to
be most conspicuous and manifest to the very
sense. Who in the moment, when the heart is
rent and agonized with a tragic scene, can say to
himself: that he converts the exquisitely painful
feelings of that moment, into the character of
pleasure; or so as to be attracted by, and be
passionately interested in the scene ; because his
soul abhors the languor of indolence, and de-
lights to be violently moved? Or who, with
Mr. Hume, is ruminating on the ingenuity and
eloquence of the artist, which can give to a
fictitious scene all the glowing colours of nature ?
Who, under the possession of sympathetic sor-
row, has his eye fixed upon an object of intel-
lectual taste, and feasts in proportion to the
opinion which he has of the poet’s skill ?
If the system of Du Bos be true, our attrac-
— ee
On Tragical Representations. 829
tion to spectacles of a tragic character, and the
interest which we feel in the representation of
them, ought to be proportioned to the pertur-
bation of the mind, and to the violence of the
emotions which are excited. But the most vio-
lent emotions shall be attempted to be raiseds
while we are only disgusted with the scene; ‘be-
cause the whole is destitute of that single requi-
site, which alone has power to attach us to mi-
sery. The play of the Libertine abounds with
scenes, which address themselves to our terror
and indignation; but we abhor the scenes, be-
cause they exhibit no field for a benevolent com-
passion; they are not the tragedy of a man, but
of a fiend; it is not human nature, but hell,
which is exhibited, There is enough of violent
action, enough of terror and distress, to rouse
and agitate; but being out of the field of man,
we cannot sympathise ; or our horror and indig-
nation are stronger than our sympathy, and we
detest a picture, which awakens not those divine
feelings, to which the soul of man delights to
commit itself,
Otway, the eldest son of Shakespeare, has
greatly offended in this view, and greatly lessen-
ed the impression of his genius, by the immor-
ality and profligacy of his principal characters.
We cannot feel for them-as we wish, and our
interest in their sufferings is diminished, as they
33° On Tragical Representations,
appear to deserve them. Some touching pictures
of innocent and virtuous distress, to which a
pure and benevolent sympathy attaches itself,
have rescued bim perhaps from our utter disgust,
The innocent, the gentle Monimia, and the more
dignified virtue of Belvidera, relieve the horror
of the villains with whom ‘they are unhappily
associated, and support in us an interest through
the whole drama.
The tragedy of the Robbers, and other pro-
ductions of the German drama, have the vice of
Otway, but with more extravagance and scorn
of nature, and therefore are more repulsive of
the heart. With them to create ,what,God never
designed, and what human wickedness never me-
ditated, is Genius; .and to terrify is Sublime,
If the system of Du Bos, therefore, be true,
these are the perfection of the drama; but, in
defiance of his principle, they do not attracts
they repel; and their admirers mistake astonish-
ment for an impression of the grand; and a
horror and revulsion from scenes of dreadful suf-
fering, for an impression of the pathetic.
But on this system, the interest in. the repre-
sentation ought to be proportioned, not only to
the bustling of theascene, but to the bustling
disposition of the spectators. © This must be al-
lowed, if the abhorrence of indolent repose, and
the delight in being stirred, be the secret cause
On Tragical Representations. 331
which attracts us to misery; and derives to usa
pleasure in spectacles, which in their nature are
painful. But this is utterly contrary to fact ;
and the attention to fact, in this instance, as in
what I have already noticed, will demonstrate
the incompetence of Du Bos’ theory; and dis-
cover the true source of the phenomenon. Men
of the most active turn, who with hardly any
other motive than to follow the violent impulse
of their own turbulent spirits, can throw society
into convulsions, and feast as it. were on those
continually renewed scenes of distress and terror
which mark their ferocious path, are not the
persons on whom you would expect the repre-
sentations of tragedy to produce their natural and
most powerful effect; but the gentle, the flexible,
_ the compassionate, and benevolent, The former
resemble the characters which, in the introduc-
tion to this essay, I have noticed among the
Romans, Goths, Spaniards, Indians, and bull-
baiting Englishmen, But the man of composed
and tempered manners, in whose breast com-
passion, mercy, and benevolence sovereignly
reign, is shocked at such characters; nor could
possibly encounter their rude and brutal enter-
tainments ; yet his heart is the theatre whereon
tragedy acts all her glorious wonders.
The same objection bears with almost equal
force against the system of Hume. It is not the
332 On Tragical Representations.
man of letters, who may be supposed to be the
best judge of composition and eloquence; nor
yet the man of a lively imagination, to whom the
effect of tragical representations is peculiarly ap-
propriate. Though if a heart mellowed to pity
be joined to these advantages, the interest in
such spectacles will perhaps receive an increase
from this superadded source; but tragedy ex-
ercises her utmost power on even the unlearned
and untutored, if there be found a feeling and
benevolent heart. '
‘The same judgment is farther illustrated from
the powerful effect on an audience of a story
happily adapted to the purpose, though the com-
position be materially faulty. It shall awake all
the passions in which tragedy rejoices, more than
all the faultless productions of the Greek and
French drama. Banks and Southern are poets
of but a middle fame ; yet the Earl of Essex and
Oronooko will dissolve an audience in tears, so
long as the human heart, and the inclinations
which it has received from its maker shall en-
dure. If tragedy owe her attractions to the
eloquence of the poet; it is to the eloquence’ of
nature, not of art. An untutored genius, hav-
ing strong conceptions, a heart that can enter
into the feelings ofa fellow heart, quick in catch-
ing the most striking features of distress, judg-
ment to select a happy tale of virtuous suffering,
On Tragical Representations. 333
and simplicity to follow nature in her plain
walk, will in the fabrication of tragedy reach its
highest excellence. Such was Shakespeare, and
such, in a less degree, were a few of his neg-
lected cotemporaries; it was to their exquisite
sensibility, to their ignorance of art and fastidious
‘refinement, which might have diverted them from
the resistless eloquence of nature, that they owe
their superiority over the lettered sons of every
age andnation. But, whatever be the skill of the
poet, whether that of nature, or art, or of both;
this skill is not critically examined into during
the representation ; it is felt ; it no more requires
the critic’s acumen to Capacitate us for this effect;
than the philosopher’s penetration; into: nature to
feel the lightning. It is not wisdom, but the
affectation of it, which in so interesting on hour,
is attentive to all the finesses, delicacies, and in-
genuity of the poet. The ingenuous simplicity
of a plain feeling heart is better employed; it is
worth a thousand such wise ones; it is the spec-
tator and judge, whom tragedy more delights in,
from*whom she will receive a more abiding sen-
‘tence.
Mr. Hume very justly observes, that the
force of imagination, the energy of. expression,
and the power of numbers, are all of themselves:
naturally pleasing to the mind. But the con-
nection between this position and the following
234 On Tragical Representations.
conclusion, is ‘wide-as heaven and earth, when
he adds: that if the object lays hold of some
affection, the pleasure still rises upon us, by the
_ conversion of this subordinate moment into that
which is predominant. The predominant emo-
tion he assumes to be the pleasure excited by
the eloquence of the artist ;~ the affection laid
hold upon is the painful sensation of the spec-
tacle. Which of these two emotions is most
likely to be predominant has been just now dis«
cussed ; but that a pleasurable emotion of one
kind should lay hold ofa painful emotion arising
from a very different source, and derive aug
mentation to itself from this combination, is an
extraordinary: position ; and as contrary to the
laws of naturecin the moral as in the material
world. Whenever contraries act upon each
other, diminution and not augmentation is the
result.. The pain continues to be pain so long
as the character of the representation is pre-
served, and undergoes no conversion at all.—
Eloquence, on whatever subject, is pleasing, _
but what then? If there were not some ‘other
circumstance, some powerful law of our nature
which attached us to, and gave us an interest in a
subject highly painful; the pleasure merely arising
from the display of talents would be less plea-
sant, because counteracted every moment by
what is painful; it must inasmuch as the pain
On Tragical Representations: 335
amounts to be diminished, and if the pain greatly
over-balanced the pleasure; it might be entirely
obliterated, ' .
He reasons thus himself, when he converts
the proposition; observing, that if the pleasure
arising from the capduct of the representation
were not predominant; the effect would be de-
Stroyed, and sorrow would absorb the mind.
Before the pain had no effect upon the pleasure
to destroy any part of it; but as if it were of the
same family, very obligingly ministered to its
increase. Mr. Hume has endeavoured to avail
himself of an allusion to the well-known Jaws of
motion ; but to answer his purpose he has as-
sumed, that they resemble two forces thoving in
different, but hot opposite ditéctions, But theit
resemblance is to two forces moving in absolutely
contrary directions ; the effect of which is, that
the greater force ¢ontinues indeed to thove on-
ward in its proper direction, but with a diminu-
tion of force, equal to that of the lesser.
_ It is farther to be observed, on the theory of
Hume, and indeed of both the French philoso
phers, that the one principle which satisfactorily
accounts for the whole phenometion, must. be
supposed to be admitted. If not; what is meant
by the concession of each; that the objects re= -
presented are in their naturé painful to ihé
ininds of the spectators? And why painful;
VOL. v. @
336 On Tragical Representations:
but from the power of that sympathy, which
enters into fellow suffering? There is no other
principle in man adequate to the effect. If this
be not allowed as an overpowering law of human
nature, no account ¢an be given, why a being;
interested in himself, and averse to pain, should
transplant into his own breast the pain of ano-
ther, and court a partnership with affliction. Mr.
Hume may be supposed, though perhaps invo-
luntarily, and while nature, not theory, was
speaking, to have conceded something more than
this; when he observes that the pleasure, not-
withstanding the supposed conversion, wears the
features and outward symptoms of sorrow an@
distress.
Again, if to the eloquence of the poet, as to
its proper cause, be ascribed the pleasure, or to
speak more properly, the interest which we take
in tragedy; why will not eloquence, employed
on other subjects, equally interest and captivate
us? Why will not pictures of other objects,
equally just’ and. animated, equally engage our
affections ? If it be said, that the objects must
be in themselves interesting, then the effect is
not derived wholly nor principally from the elo-
quence and manner of the artist, but from some
other consideration, which previously interests
us in the objects that are represented.
Mr. Hume has very artfully managed his il-
On Tragical Representations. 337
justration from facts, nor is it to be denied that
the principles, to which he ascribes the whole,
have their influence... But with less- attachment
to.a pre-conceived, theory, it is, methinks, im-
possible to avoid the discovery of the great master
principle, evenin the very facts which he himself
adduces,
The notion of conversion, which he borrows
from Fontenelle, is an arbitrary assumption ;
and may be classed with the Cartesian notion of
nature’s abhorrence of a yacuum. But if, by
the delight of being moved be understood, that
every passion of the soul delights in its proper
exercise ; it is true that the mind of man will,
under the impulse of any affection, be moved
towards the object that is united to the affection.
And it is also true, that rich imagery, strong
expression, the harmony of numbers, and the
charms of imitation, are all grateful. to the mind,
independant of any end to which they are di-
rected. It is to these that certain productions
owe all their interest; but they are light auxi-
liaries in the grander productions of tragedy,
unless so far as they are necessary to the perfec-
tion of the imitation ; without which there is no
representation adapted to nature, and therefore
nothing fitted to lay hold of the heart,
What Mr. Hume intends by his reference to
the deserted parent, is difficult to say ; when he
338 On Tragical Representations.
42
asks the question, Who would ever think of it
as a good expedient for comforting an afflicted
parent, to exaggerate, with all the force of ora-
tory, the irreparable loss, which he has met with
by the death of a favourite child? Certainly it
were a ridiculous part to think of comforting the
parent by any such means; but the idea of com-
forting by such a procedure, or the idea of com-
forting in the thing to be illustrated by this allu-
sion, if any thing be meant to illustrate, are quite
out of the question. No one ever conceived
the intention of the tragic poet to be, to comfort
his audience ; he meansto distress them; he exs
erts the utmost force of his genius'to distress thems
to give them as touching a feeling of the sorrow
which he paints, as mere sympathy is capable of
receiving. So is it with the deserted parent:
He who would ingratiate himself with him can-
not take a more’ effectual means than to catch
him in his tenderest moments, and with all the
eloquence of words, expatiate on the virtues,
the shining qualities, the promising hopes of his
child. Such a conduct would be unkind; it
would be cruel; but it would be effectual. He
would win the heart of the parent, in the very
moment, and by the very act, which was rending
itin pieces. It is through the gate of sympathy
that he gains this access to his heart; the pa-
rent embraces the man, in whom he acknow-
On Tragical Representations. 339
ledges a fellow heart, one who appears to feel
up to the very’ height of that sense, whieh he
has himself of his loss.
I have bestowed,’ perhaps, ‘more attention on
these systems than they may be thought to merit ;
as whatever ingenuity they may lay claim to,
they have little ground of experiment in human
nature to stand upon. But the examination of
them has answered the principal purpose. The
analysis of their defects discovers in every step
the real source of the whole phenomenon; and
what is of more importance, it discovers the wise
provision'of the great author of all for conduct-
ing the ceconomy of the moral as the material
world. But the simplicity of nature offends
some ; to discover only what every one may dis-
cover, and what nature forces upon the notice
of all, argues no superiority of genius; they
suppose, they invent, they create, and in defiance
of nature they erect vain monuments of their
own wit and ingenuity. .
In every view of the human mind, during
‘the exhibition of tragic imitations, compassion,
or sympathy in a more extended sense, presents
itself as the operating principle, the immediate
sense to which such scenes address themselves.
This is the only principle within us, which is .
sufficient to attach us to misery; to connect a
peing who is interested for himself, and is in the
340 On Tragical Representations.
constant pursuit of his own proper happiness, to
connect such a being with the unhappy, and.as
by an irresistible impulse introduce bim to a
partnership in their afflictions,
The contradiction, therefore, which this pro-
pensity, at the first view, carries with it to a
leading principle of our own natures, vanishes
when we consider it in this, important light ;
we appear to act in-perfect consistence with an
acknowledged, and powerful, and highly valu-
able principle of our natures. While our other
senses are continually opening themselves to
their proper objects, it would be strange, indeed,
if this internal sense, whose aim is directed to
the noblest character of man, were reluctant to
its proper exercise, and averse to those objects
and to those scenes, which immediately address
themselves to it. This would argue indeed a
defect in his constitution, such as could not
easily be reconciled to our ideas of that designing
wisdom, which intended him to be one beautiful
and harmonious whole.
If, indeed, the end of compassion, as a prin-
ciple of human nature, were directed only to
particular exigencies in human life, as an instant
stimulus to acts of kind protection, and humane
alleviation of fellow misery ; it might be thought
sufficient if it were reserved for such interesting
occasions ; and the mind were not led by a far-
feign”
On Tragical Representations. 34t
ther impulse to the participation of distress,
when no immediate object of our benevolent
interposition is before us. But compassion was
implanted in us with more extensive views, not
merely that it. might come in aid of our good
will on pressing occasions, which may justify
the pain it gives us; but that, by a more regular
and uniform exercise, it might minister to the”
sublimest virtue of man, and dispose us, on every
occasion, to wish and do well to the creature like
ourselves.
There is a striking difference in the exercise
of this sense, as referred to the real distresses of
human life, and to the fictitious ones of tragedy ,
and this difference is wisely adapted to their re-
spective uses. When we are summoned to im-
mediate action, the sympathetic feeling is pain
unmixed, in order to give power and velocity
to the benevolent stimulus, “We have no pro-
pensity, therefore, to such scenes; we do not
wish them to exist, in order that our compassion
and benevolence may have a field to action;
though he who orders, or rather permits them,
has wisely provided that the calamities of human
beings shall operate to the moral improvement
and perfection of their minds. But where the
distress is merely fictitious, or the representation:
of what is past; and no kind humane interposi-
tion is expected from us, but only the cherish-
342 On Tragical Representations: .
ing an uniformly benevolent temper may be
supposed to be in view; then the pain is mixed
and tempered with something that we know not
to givé a name to; something that must attend on
every mind in the exercise of its best affections,
a complacence such as a superior spirit may be
supposed to feel, if he were viewing the infirmi-
ties and distresses of some inferior system. To
such scenes, which imply no augmentation of
the real calamities of our fellow creatures, but
may minister to the augmentation of our good
will towards them, we are moved by an internal
impulse ; by an impulse which we approve of
in reflection; and which thosé who are little
accustomed to reflection do however obey.
In speaking of the affection of the mind to
tragic representations, I have adopted the lan-
guage of the writers I have opposed, while I
- Was discussing their theories ; and 1 may myself;
in contemplating the impulse to tragical represen-
tations, and the complacence in those benevolent
affections which are excited, and distinguishing
these from the impressions on the heart which
the spectacle of pain excites, have used the term
pleasure, yet with a visible dubiousness and re-
luctance, because language immediately suggest=
ed no other term ; though it by no means corres=
ponded to my idea, nor to the real truth of the
sensation, When the mind is but moderately
On Tragical Representations. 243
interested in any tragic scene, and has leisure to
attend to no other circumstances than what are
appropriate to sympathy, it may be sensible to
feelings which are in their nature pleasant, but
chiefly, if not entirely, springing out of these
collateral circumstances. But when the increas-
ing distress of the scene entire. possesses the
mind, all semblance of pleasure vanishes, and
the feelings are those of pure compassion; but
not unless in some particular instances, painful
up to the degree of aversion. It is not strictly
just, therefore, to say, that the feelings at such
an instant are in any degree pleasant; as it would
be grossly false to say, that we are instigated to
this participation of distress by the view of plea-
sure; unless all the sympathetic feelings be re-
ferred to the class of the agreeable ones. We
are carried, indeed, by a virtuous impulse to
converse with distress; the certainty that we
shall not be spectators of any real suffering,
withdraws all aversion to this impulse; but un-
der this assurance we surrender ourselves up
entirely to the poet; we enter into his views ;
we are carried out of ourselves into his fictitious
scenes, as if they were real. We often feel
from them an exquisite pain, which oppresses
our minds for a considerable time after the re-
presentation is over, and sinks too deeply into
those of a delicate and susceptible make. Yet
VOL. V D
344 On Tragical Representations.
we return to such scenes; not that pain is de~
sirable, not to seek for pleasure in the field of
pain; but the better inclination of our natures
determines our conduct ; and the distressing sen-
sations, to which we are exposing ourselvess
appear with that softened aspect, that grace,
which a virtuous and benevolent melancholy
always wears.
This investigation of the effect of tragedy
on the mind, will account, in a great measure,
for the superiority of the best productions of
the moderns above those of the ancients, and
of the English tragedy above that of the French.
The pictures are more exquisitely finished ; the
characters of the sufferers are more interesting ;
and more powerfully lay hold on our affections,
and plead for our compassion. Domestic life
and domestic manners were more gross and un-
dressed among the antients; the social passions
were but half awakened among them ; and, there-
fore, the pictures of domestic happiness are not
near so interesting, nor can, to-our improved
taste, present such rich subjects of compassion.
The French tragedies are in this respect also
far inferior to the English; wit, gallantry, and
philosophic declamation, are more displayed than
touching scenes of pure and ingenuous distress.
Tragedy, in order to be perfect, ought to be
throughout an animated picture; enlivened, en-
On Tragical Representations. 345
riched by grandeur of sentiment, by every ex-
hibition of mind which is fitted to interest a
fellow mind ;. but still it must be a picture. When
this is conducted by a masterly artist ; it is then
that all yield to the genius of tragedy; we feel
that there is an eloquence in the exhibition of
virtuous distress, suffering from the incidents of
our natures, from the pardonable errors of hu-
man judgment, from the follies or vices of others,
or under the iron hand of oppression and cru-
elty, which mocks all the power of wisdom to
equal; which the lettered and the polished can
no more resist than the most uncultivated child
of nature. And this eloquence is the instrument
of a wise providence, whereby he forms and
fashions our hearts according to what’ he designs
and approves, and calls forth those benevolent
affections which move not at the voice of reason
and calm philosophy.
46
Experiments and Observations to deter-
mine whether the Quantity of RAIN and
DEW 5 equal to the Quantity of WATER
carried off by the Rivers and ratsed by
Evaporation ; with an Enquiry into the
ORIGIN of SPRINGS.
BY JOHN DALTON.
READ MARCH 1, 1799.
It is scarcely possible to contemplate without
admiration the beautiful system of nature by
which the surface of the earth is continually
supplied with water, and that unceasing circula-
tion of a fluid so essentially necessary to the very
being of the animal and vegetable kingdoms
takes place. Naturalists, however, are not una-
nimous in their opinions whether the rain that
falls is sufficient to supply the demands of springs
and rivers, and to afford the earth besides such
a large portion for evaporation as it is well
known is raised daily. To ascertain this point
is an object of importance to the science of
agriculture, and to every concern in which the
procuration and management of water makes
a part, whether for domestic purposes or for
the arts and manufactures.
For the sake of perspicuity I have distributed
the subject under four heads ;
On Rain, Evaporation, &ec. 347
i. Of the Quantity of Rain and Dew.
2. Of the Quantity of Water that flows into the
Sea.
3. OF the Quantity of Water raised by Evapor-
ation.
4. Of the Origin of Springs.
SECTION I.
An Estimate of the Quantity of Rain and Dew that
falls in England and Wales in a year.
Rain-gages have been fixed of late years in
almost every part of the kingdom ; by means of
them we are enabled to determine, with con-
siderable exactness, the depth of water that the
rain yields in any given place. Inland counties
have less rain than maritime ones, especially
those which border on the western seas. But
a still greater difference seems to take place be-
tween a mountainous country anda champaigne,
or flat country: In the former there often falls
double or triple the quantity of rain in a year,
that there does in the latter, and never less than
an equal quantity. It may be observed, that
several years account of the rain at any place
is required before a medium yearly quantity can
be obtained with sufficient accuracy. The fol-
lowing is perhaps the largest collection of ac-
counts of rain fallen in different places in Eng-
348 On Rain, Evaporation, ec.
land that has hitherto appeared: ‘They are
mostly taken from the Transactions of the Royal
and other Societies.
Counties (maritime). Places. ven ee
Cumserzanp .... Keswick, 7 years ...----- 67-5
Carlisle, 1 year ...-...--- 20. 2
Westmor.ann..... Kendal, 11 years....------ 59. 8
Fell-foot, 3 years .....- ae |
Waith Sutton, 5 years .... 46
LANCASHIRE ...-.- Lancaster, 10 years...---.= 40
Liverpool, 18 years....--.- 34. 4
Manchester, 9 years .---0- 33
YTownley ...ssceun vances « 4]
Crawshawbooth, near Hasling-
den, 9 years «...es0/-e22- 60
GuoucesTeRsHiReE Bristol, 3 years -....----- 29 2
SomERSETSHIRE .. Bridgewater, 3 years ..-... 29. 3
Cornwatt ...... Ludguan, near Mount’s Bay,
DEVEATS Vetoes icine Gmina pe
Another place, 1 year .... 29 9
DevonsHIRE «--- Plymouth, 2 years ...... .- 46.5
HAMPSHIRE .ane-- Selbourne, 9 years ......-- 37. 2
Byfield, ‘Gyears, ...35 -.% 5-0 25..:9
TROT ate ie cia a sis pLIOMES eh VEOES ns ge ed asia LY i
BIS GS GO pas cas m2 een MAI ISUEY ns ned m eo 19.
Norrork ....-..» Norwich, 13 years .......- 25%
YORKSHIRE ..-.+.. Barrowby, near Leeds,6 years 27.
Garsdale, near Sedbergh, 3 y. 52.
NorTHUMBERLAND Widdrington, 1 year ...... 2!.
Counties (inland). Places. Means.
“Mipptesex ....+.- London, TiVEATS x wpm ens o ZR
SUREEY. aascessse, SQUID Lambeth, 9 ys >... 2anu
bt © Ge Or OY me
r)
:
,
:
On Rain, Evaporation, €¢. 349
Hertrorpsuire .. Near Ware, 5 years ...... 25
HuntineponsHire Kimbolton, 7 years ..2..4 25
DERBYSHIRE «a... Chatsworth, 15 years .... 927, 8
Rutranpsuire. .. Lyndon, 21 years ........ 24. 3
NortuampPtonsniRe Near Oundle, 14 years... 23
General Mean .... 35 2
ee
This general mean of 935. 2 inchés is, J ap-
prehend, a little above the medium for England
and Wales, as the greater number of places are
those where much rain falls. If we take a
mean for each of the above-mentioned counties
(where more than one place in a county is given)
and then a general mean from the counties, the
result is a reduced mean of 31. 3. Even then it
may be objected that the greater part of the
counties are maritime; but it must be observed,
that there is no account of rain in Wales ; and
we may safely conclude, that the rain in Wales
would exceed the last-mentioned mean as much
as the inland counties of England, not in the
above list, would fall short; because Wales is
both a mountainous country, and exposed to
the sea.
We will, therefore, conclude, that the mean an-
nual depth of rain in Englandand Wales, deduced
from these 20 counties, is 31 inches: A quantity °
which subsequent obseryations, I am confident,
350 On Rain, Evaporation, Se.
will not diminish, and probably not increase
much.*
It remains to estimate the quantity of dew
that falls in'a year.—Some have doubted whether
dew is derived from the air or the earth; but a
proper attention to the phenomena will satisfy
us, that it is a deposition of water, evaporated
during the heat of the day, With respect to the
quantity that falls in a year, we are much at a
loss, as no daily observations have been made for
a series of time that I know of: indeed, it would
be difficult to prescribe a mode of observation.
Dr. Halest relates some experiments made to
determine the quantity of dew that falls upon
moist earth, from which he estimates the annual
dew at 3. 28 inches. But it is probable that the
dew which is deposited on grass is much more
copious than what falls on moist earth, because
grass exposes much more surface in a given
acre of ground. If we take the dew at 5 inches
annually, it will probably not be much over-
rated: supposing it should be over-rated, the
* The editors of the Encyclopedia, under the article
Weather, from 16 places of observation, make the an-
nual mean for Great Britain 32. 53 inches ; and M. Cotte,
in the Journal de Physique for 1791, gives a mean de-
rived from 147 places in different parts of the world
equal to 34. 7 inches,
+ Veg. Statics. Vol. 1. Page 52,
On Rain, Evaporation, ec. . 351
excess may stand against the rain that is lost by
evaporation from the surface of the rain-gage each
time it rains.* Wherefore, upon the whole, we
* Since writing the above paragraph on dew, I have
had occasion to make several experiments on the subject
of aqueous vapour, as it exists in the atmosphere, the re-
sult of which will, I am persuaded, materially illustrate
this important question in physics.—At present I shall
only observe, that the following conclusions seem de-
ducible from the experiments above referred to.
1. That aqueous vapour is an elastic fluid suz generis,
diffusible in the atmosphere, but forming no chemical
combination with it.
2. That temperature alone limits the maximum of va-
“284 in the atmosphere.
. That there exists at all times, and in all places, a
ee, of aqueous vapour in the atmosphere, variable
according to circumstances,
4, That whatever quantity of aqueous vapour may
exist in the atmosphere at any time, a certain temperature
may be found, below which a portion of that vapour
would unavoidably fall or be deposited in the form of
rain or dew, but above which no such diminution could
take place, chemical agency apart. This point may be
called the extreme temperature of vapour of that density.
5. And that whenever any body colder than the ex-
treme temperature of the existing vapour is situated in the.
atmosphere, dew is deposited upon it, the quantity of
which varies as the surface of the body and the degree
of cold be!ow the extreme temperature.
N.B. The extreme temperature of vapour in the atmos- +
phere varies all the way from the actual temperature of
the atmosphere to 10, 15, 20 or more degrees below it.—
The point may generally be found in the hottest months
E
352 On Rain, Evaporation, 8c.
shall have 36 inches of water at a medium an-
nually on the surface of the earth in England and
Wales, reckoning 31 for rain and 5 for dew
Accordingto Guthrie, the area of England and
Wales is 46.450 square miles. This reduced to
square feet, gives 1.378.586.880.000: which,
multiplied by 9 feet the annual depth of rain
and dew, gives 4.-135-760.690.000. cubic feet
of water==153.176.320.000 cubic yards, or 28
cubic miles—115 thousand millions of tons in
weight, nearly.—We must now consider how
this enormous quantity of water is disposed of.
There are two principal ways by which the
water derived from rain is carried off again :
One part of it runs off immediately into rivulets,
~ or sinks into the earth a small way, breaks out
again in lower ground in the form of springs,
thence makes its way to some river, by which
it is conveyed into the sea—another part is_
raised: into the atmosphere by evaporation, We
take no notice here of the decomposition of water
by vegetables; because it is presumed that in
the course of nature the principles. are combined
and water formed again.
|
by pouring cold spring water into a dry and clean glass,
and marking what degree of cold is sufficient to produce
a dew onthe outside of the glass; at other times frigorifie
saline solutions may be used,
On Rain, Evaporation, Sc. 352
§ 2.
An Estimate of the Quantity of Water that flows into
the Sea from England and Wales in a Year.
To calculate the quantity of water that flows
down any one river into the sea in a given
time, seems at first view a question of great
difficulty. The necessary data, however, may
be obtained with considerable exactness, by
proper observations, and then it becomes an
easy case of mensuration. Dr. Hutton, in his
Philos. and-Mathemat. Dictionary, article River,
proposes a very good method to determine by
experiment the velocity of a river:—A cylin-
drical piece of light wood, its length somewhat
less than the depth of the waters, is to be taken,
and a few small weights attached to one end in .
order to make it swim upright. To the other -
end a small rod is fixed in the centre in direction
of the axis.—This being suffered to float down
the stream will move with the’ velocity of the
water; and if the rod be observed to incline
towards the river upward or downward, it shews
the current to be more rapid at the bottom or
surface respectively. !
This experiment being made in iii middle
and near the sides of a river, a medium velocity.
may be obtained. Then the medium, breadth,
depth, and space run over in a certain time
354 On Rain, Evaporation, Se.
being multiplied together, will give the quan-
tity of water that flows down in that time.
Dr. Halley, in order to estimate the quantity
of water that flows into the Mediterranean Sea
by means of rivers, makes a comparison of the
great rivers of Italy, &c. with that of the
Thames. (Philos. Transact. Abridg. Vol. 2.
Page 110). He assumes the breadth of the
Thames at Kingston Bridge to be 100 yards,
its depth 3 yards, and velocity 2 miles per hour.
He professedly overrates the dimensions, in order
to allow more than a sufficiency for the streams
_ received below Kingston. This assumption
gives the area of a transverse section of the
river==300 square yards, and the quantity of
water flowing down= 20.300 Ooo tons in a day.
This must be overrated by at least, I think, one
third :—If the breadth be assumed 100 yards,
the depth 3, and velocity 2 miles per hour, it
will then give 3 of the result above mentioned ;
or it will amount to the same thing if we take
< part from all the three data assumed by Dr.
Halley, the result being 3 of that above;
amounting in the year to 166.624.128.000
cubic feet, which is a little more than #5 part
of all the rain and dew in England and Wales
ina year, as above deduced,
By an inspection of the annexed map of the
rivers of this country, as well as by a fair calcue
On Rain, Evaporation, &e. 855
jation, it appears, that the water of the Thames
is drawn from an extent of country of about 600
square miles, or 3 of the area of the whole,
nearly. The Severn, including the Wye,
spreads over an equal or greater extent of
country: And that collection of rivers which
constitutes the Humber is superior to either of the
other two in this respect. As far as my own obser-
vation goes, the Severn and Wye must disem-
bogue as. much or more water than the Thames ;
the. Humber. I have not seen collectedly, but
have noticed most of the branches constituting
it, andshould apprehend it can not be inferior
to the Thames: All other circumstances being
the same, the quantity of water carried down by
any river should be as the area of the ground
from which the water is derived, and on this
account the Humber ought to exceed the
Thames.*
The Severn, which is partly derived from
the mountainous country of Wales, is certainly
the most rapid of the three rivers, and probably
carries down the most water: As the Thames,
- however, is generally considered to take the
lead, we will suppose, upon the whole, that
these three rivers are equal in this respect.
The counties of Kent, Sussex, Hampshire,
* A more perfect theorem will be given afterwards,
for finding the quantity of water carried down by any
river,
356 On Rain, Evaporation, Se.
Dorsetshire, Devonshire, Cornwall, and Somer-
setshire, from the Medway to the lower Avon
inclusively, in an extent of 11.000 square miles,
do not present us with many large rivers. From
their number and magnitude, we cannot form a
high estimate of their produce. The quantity of
rain for those counties is indeed near the aver-
age for the kingdom, as far as the preceding
observations determine; but the milder tem-
perature of their winters and greater heat of their
springs and summers, will cause a greater eva-
poration thah in some other parts: It is pro-
bable the rivers in these counties may amount,
when taken together, to 14 times the magnitude
of the Thames. The rivers that disembogue
their waters on the coast of Lincolnshire, Nore
folk, Suffolk and Essex, from the Humber to
the Thames, though drawn ftom a country of
7000 square miles, manifestly fall far short of the
Thames, The two places in this district, for
which we have accounts of the rain, Norwich
and Upminster, give a mean of only 22+ inches
annually. . This, with the flatness of the country,
which prevents the water from. running off in
some degree, makes the rivers much less than
what might otherwise be expected from the ex-
tent of ground. ‘Thete are but 3 or 4 of any
consequence. Probably all the rivers may
amount to half the size of the Thames, There
a ae
Vol. I PLM. Wage 356.
SKETCH ofthe RIVERS
tnt Cnyland anid Wales’
divided into districts
Tweed
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2
On Rain, Evaporation, &c. 987
remains above 6000 square miles in Wales, from
the Wye to the Dee, inclusive of the last, and
the northern counties of Lancaster, Westmor-
land, Cumberland, Northumberland, and Dur-
ham, with part of Cheshire and a small part of
Yorkshire, from the Mersey round by the
Tweed to the Tees, amounting to 7 or 8000
square miles, to be estimated.
These two divisions, though not larger than
some others, abound in rivers, many of which
are considerable in magnitude and of great ra-
pidity. The rains at an average, it is probable,
are double what they areinthe S. E. counties of
the kingdom. The rivers in these two districts
cannot fairly be estimated, I think, at less than
four times the Thames.—lIt appears, then, that
by this estimation, the water carried off by all
the rivers in England. and Wales, may amount
to. nine times that carried off by the Thames
13, inches of rain. There remains still sixteen
times the water of the Thames, or 29 inches of
rain to account for, before we have disposed of
all the rain and dew.
§ 3.
An; Estimate of the Quantity of Water raised by
Evaporation.
Upon looking over the surface of any
country, three principal varieties of surface pre-
358 On Rain, Evaporation, E96.
sent themselves to view, as far as respects €va-
poration, namely, waler, ground covered with
grass and other vegetables, and bare soil. The dif-
ficulties that occur in attempts to find the
quantity of water evaporated in those three
cases, are perhaps the principal reason why our
knowledge on this head is so imperfect.
As far as experiments hitherto made autho-
rise us to draw conclusions, it should seem that
the evaporation from water is greatest ; that from
green ground is probably next, and that from
bare soil the least: though we may presume,
that the copious dews upon the grass more than
supply the excess of evaporation above -what
takes place from a moist uncovered soil.
The most satisfactory experiments I have
seen an account of, relating to the evaporation
from a surface of water, are those of Dr.
Dobson, made at Liverpool, in the years 1772,
73, 74 and 75. (Vid. Philos. Transac. Vol. 67)
—He took a cylindrical vessel of 12 inches
diameter, and having nearly filled it with water,
exposed it besides his rain-gage of the same
aperture, and by adding water to it, or taking
it away occasionally, he kept the surface nearly
of the same height, and carefully registered the
quantities added or taken away, by a compa.
rison of which with the rain, the amount of the
evaporation was ascertained, ‘The mean monthly
On Rain, Evaporation, €c. 359
€vaporation for 4 years was—January 1.50
inches.—February 1.77.—March 2.64.—April
3-30-—May 4.34.—June 4.41.—July. 5.11.
—August 5.01.—September _ 3.18.—October
2.51—November 1.51.—December 1.49.—
In all 36.78 inches. The mean rain for the
same time was 37.48 inches.—In the year 1793
I found the evaporation from water in a similar
way at Kendal for- 82 days in March, April,
May and June to be 5.414 inches, The greatest
quantity evaporated on one of the hottest and
driest days in Summer was a little above ,2 of
an inch in depth,
The experiments to determine how much is
évaporated from green ground and from moist
earth, are very few that have come to my know-
ledge. Dr. Hales, from a few experiments,
calculates that’ moist earth only throws off 62
inches annually.—This calculation must be far
below the truth. Dr. Watson, Bishop of Llan-
daff, found that in a dry season there evaporated
from a grass plat that had been mowed clese,
about i600 gallons in an acre per day, which
amounts nearly to ,o7 of aninch in depth; and that
after rain the evaporation was considerably more.
Now supposing ,07 to be the medium daily eva-
poration for May, June; July and August, and
that as much is raised in these 4 months as in
all the rest of the year, the annual evaporation
F
360 On Rain, Evaporation, &c.
in such circumstances will be 17 or 18 inches,
which is but half that observed from water at
Liverpool, and 6 inches less than the reserve of
rain stated above.
In order to ascertain this point more fully,
and to investigate the origin of springs, my
friend Thomas Hoyle, jun. and self practised
an -expedient as follows, beginning in the au-
tumn of 1795. Having got a cylindrical vessel
of tinned iron, 10 inches in diameter and 93
feet deep, there were inserted into it two pipes
turned downwards for the water to run off into
bottles: The one pipe was near the bottom of
the vessel; the other was an inch from the
top. The vessel was filled up for a few inches
with gravel and sand, and all the rest with good
fresh soil. It was then put into a hole in the
ground and the space around filled up with
earth, except on one side, for the convenience of
putting bottles to the two pipes; then some water
was poured on to sadden the earth, and as much
of it as would was suffered to run through with-
out notice, by which the earth might be con-
sidered as saturated with water. For some weeks
the soil was kept above the level of the upper
pipe, but latterly it was constantly a little below
it, which precluded any water running off
through it. Moreover, for the first year the
soil at top was bare; but for the two last years
On Rain, Evaporation, Ge, 361
it was covered with grass thé same as any green
field. Things being thus circumstanced, a re-
gular register has been kept of the quantity of ~
rain water that ran off from the surface of the
earth through the upper pipe (whilst that took
place) and also of the quantity of that which
sunk down through the 9 feet of earth, and ran
out through the lower pipe. A rain-gage of
the same diameter was kept close by to find the
quantity of rain for any corresponding time.
The following Tables shew the Result.
‘Water through the two Pipes; | Mean, Mean |Mean
Rain, |Evap.
Inch. Inch. _Anch. | inch, Sone Nceoh,
1796- 1797-1798."
Jan. .1.897— ,680— 1.774-+ 16450+] 2,458] 1.008
Feb, 1-778 ,918-— 1,122 1.273 | 1.801] 5528
March 5431— 3070— 335 | 279 | ,go2| ,623] -
April ,220— 295— ,180 | ,999 1.717| 1-485} -
May 2.027— 2443-4 010 [1.49344] 4.177] 2.684
Jind” 581 -—», 726 299 | 2-483] 2.184
July 2158 2925 —— 1,059 | 4.154| 4.095
Aug, —— 25° 3168 | 3.554] 3-386
Sept. =~ = 976 =—— _| 305 | 3.2791 2.954
ct. pee 2680 era 9227 2.899 2.672
Nov. —— 1.044 1-594 | 879 | 2.934] 2.055
“Dees 5200 3.077 1.8784 1.718-+] 3.202) 1.484
6.877— 10.934— 7:379 |8.402 1|33.560ler.158
Raiti g0-629— 98.791—31,259 50/7945
Evap.23.725-—- 27-857—29-862
ooo
on
i
362, On Rain, Evaporation, Se.
The following observations were made when
the water passed through both pipes: that is»
when the vessel was filled up with earth above
the level of the upper pipe.
Top pipe Bottom pipe.
’ Inch. Inch.
$796, Jan. 25—— ,190—— ,280
30-—— ,o80—— 4114
Feb, 2—— ,100-—— 5254
8—— 3196-—— 214Q
May 1—— ,163——~ ,000
10—— ,060—— ,400
12—— ,312——— 4175
15—— ,190—— 200
June 3—— 120 3040
ee ee
Total 1.411
ee
1.603
The column of mean evaporation is derived
by taking the difference of the two columns pre-
ceding it; but it should be observed that though
this method is sufficiently exact in taking the
year together, it is not so in taking the
months severally, because it presumes that the
earth in the vessel contains the same quantity of
water at the end of each month, or is saturated
with it; whereas in the Summer months it is
frequently short of saturation. The consequence
is, that the evaporation appears from this table
to be something less than it really is in the Sum;
On Rain, Evaporation, &ec. 363
mer months, and something more in the au-
tumnal.*
From these experiments it seems we may
conclude—ist, That the quantity of water eva-
porated, zn the circumstances above related, amounts
to 25 inches of rain annually ; to which if we add
5 inches for the dew, it will give 30 inches of
water raised annually.
2d. That the quantity of evaporation in-
creases with the rain, but not proportionally.
Thus, 1797 gave the most rain and the greatest
evaporation, &c.
ad. That it does not appear there is much
difference betwixt the evaporation from bare
earth, when there is sufficient depth of soil, and
that from ground covered with vegetating grass,
The account in 1796 is much what might have
been expected, if the earth had been covered with
grass. —
As this account of evaporation, amounting
to 30 inches, exceeds the medium reserve of
rain of 29 inches, it demands an enquiry whether
the rain is adequate, or whether the earth de-
rives a supply of water from some subterranean
reservoir, according to the opinion of some phi-
losophers,
* N.B. The earth in the vessel always appeared as
well supplied with moisture as the ground around it, in
the driest weather,
364 On Rain, Evaporation, Se
With respect to the deficiency of 7 inches,.
there are three causes to be assigned for it, which
appear to me fully sufficient, without having re-
course to any source but that of rain for the
supply of the earth in general.
ast, In the account of the rain that passed
through the earth in our evaporating vessel,
there are a few monthly. products marked,+
those were occasioned by the bottle that re-
ceived the water through the pipe being found
with the water running over ; this loss was placed
to the account of evaporation; it could not be
much, as the water was taken several times in a
month, but possibly might amount to one inch
in the year.
ad. The rain at Manchester, being 334 inches
annually, exceeds the medium of g1 inches ; and
consequently, according to the preceding obser~
vations, the evaporation ought to exceed the
medium.
gd. But the principal cause of the excess
in our account of evaporation, I conceive to be
the prevention of the water running off from the
surface of the earth at the top, by having the
earth below the level of the upper pipe: It has
been seen, that when the earth was above that
level, a great part of the water came off that way,
by which the surface was sooner dried: whereas
by forcing all the water to sink through the
On Raia, Evaporation, Ge. 365
earth or stand on its surface, a greater degree
of moisture perpetually existed at the surface,
and consequently afforded a greater scope for
evaporation, than the surface of the earth in ge.
neral would do.
Upon the whole then I think we may fairly
conclude—that the rain and dew of this country
are equivalent to the quantity of water carried off
by evaporation and by the rivers. And as na-
ture acts upon general laws, we ought to infer,
that it must be the case in every other country,
till the.contrary is proved.
This conclusion being admitted, we are en-
abled to deduce a general theorem for the quan-
tity of water carried down into the sea by any
river in any country (on the supposition that all
rivers are ramified alike) provided we have
certain data: these data are the length of the
river, and the excess of the rain above the eva-
poration in the country from which the water of
the river is drawn: Also, it should be known by
observation; how much water some one given
river carries down.
For, from the principles of geometry, the
area of country from which any river is sup-
plied, will be as the square of the length of the
river; and the quantity of water carried off,
will be in the compound ratio of the area of the.
country, and the excess of the rain and dew
above the evaporation,
366 On Rain, Evaporation, &e.
Thus, let L=the length of any river, E=2
the excess of rain and dew above the evaporation,
and O=the quantity of water disembogued ir
any given time by that river; l—the length of
any other river, e=the excess, &c. and q=the
quantity of water; then we shall have q—
Ole
LE
Ex. gr. Suppose the length of the Thames
=200 miles, and the excess—5 inches, estima-
ting the rain and dew at 30 inches and evapor-
ation at 25; and suppose the river Kent, in
Westmorland, to be 20 miles in length, and the
excess 35 inches, the rain and dew being sup-
posed 65, and evaporation g0 inches.
BO: a ee want Sa
Then,
200° X 5 100
or O=143q ; which result, I believe, will be
found to accord nearly with the measurement of
the two rivers on the principle before men=
tioned.
On Rain, Evaporation, Ge. 367.
; 4.
On the Origin of Springs.
The Origin of Springs has always been justly
considered as a question of natural history wor-
thy, of investigation.—In the infancy of science
hypotheses are formed to account for pheno-
mena; but when facts are discovered totally in-
consistent with an hypothesis, it ought to be dis-
carded, This does not seem to have been the
case in the subject before us; for various opinions
are still held by some, which it is impossible to
support by facts. The object of, the following
remarks and experiments is to ascertain the dis-
puted point if possible. |
There are three opinions respecting the origin
of springs which it may be proper to notice.
ist. That they are supplied entirely by rain
and dew,
2d. That they are "principally supplied by
* large subterranean reservoirs of water.
gd. That they derive their water originally
from the sea, on the principle of filtration,
» Itisobvious, that before we pay any attention
to the two latter opinions, the causes assigned
in the first ought to be proved insufficient by
direct experiment, M. de ia Hire is the only
one who has attempted to do this, as far as my
G
368 On Rain, Evaporation, &ec.
information extends, in the Parisian Memoirs
for 1703. He procured a leaden vessel 8 feet
deep, having a pipe at the bottom; this he
buried in the earth, and filled with soil of sand
and loam, exposing the surface to receive all the
rain that fell, After15 years trial, he found
that no water had run through the pipe at the
bottom.
Again, he took another vessel, 8 inches deep,
which he filled with earth and exposed in like
manner, No rain penetrated so as to run out
at the bottom from June to February ; but after
that time it yielded a quantity after most rains.
Another vessel of twice the depth, or 16 inches,
gave a result much like that of 8 inches. Far-
ther, M. de la Hire found, that when herbs were
planted in’ the soil of the last mentioned vessel,
and grown up, no rain penetrated through the
soil, but instead thereof it was not sufficient to
sustain the vegetation; for the plants would re-
quire to be sprinkled occasionally, or else they
began to droop and wither. :
With respect to the first mentioned fact, we ”
need not wonder that no water penetrated
through 8 feet of earth at Paris, where the an-
nual rain is but 20 inches, when only 8 or g
inches penetrated through g feet of earth here,
where the rain is 33 or 34 inches annually. But
it does not follow that rain may not descend
On Rain, Evaporation, &e. 369
down declivities of the ground into vallies or
lower parts, at Paris as well as here, and being
accumulated may penetrate into the earth to a
considerable depth; especially if it meet with
channels or chasms of any kind, or declining
Strata of earth that are impenetrable by water.
Paris, I believe, however, is not very liberally
supplied with springs, as might be expected. As
to the experiment upon vegetation, it only proves
that the rain in spring and summer is sometimes
not sufficient to support vegetable life, a fact
which may readily be granted; but then in his
experiment the plants were precluded from a
supply of moisture from the earth beneath the
vessel, which is a reserve of the utmost conse-
quence in dry seasons,
This circumstance of water ascending again
in the earth, on whatever principle it is effected,
cannot be denied.—There were 43 inches of rain
here in July last, none of which passed through
the earth in the evaporating vessel ; this earth,
however, at the end of the month, was far from
that degree of dryness which is unfit for the
support of vegetation.—During the first four
days of August there fell about 3 inches of rain,
and only 3 an inch penetrated through the earth
‘in the evaporating vessel, Consequently 3 feet
in depth of earth that was moderately moist im-'
bibed nearly 3 inches of rain before it was satur-
370 On Rain, Evaporation, Se
ated ;| whence we may conclude that 9 inches
nearly had ascended and been evaporated. This
evidently shews, that earth ts capable of holding
ai.very great proportion of water, that in sum-
mer the water ascends, to supply the exigences
at the surface, and that earth far under tie point
of saturation, with moisture is still fit to support
vegetation. 7
This observation suggested the following
question—How much water is there in a given
depth of earth when the soil is at the point of
saturation, or in that state when it begins to
yield water from the lower pipe of the evapora.
ting gage?
To determine this I took a quantity of gar-
den soil that had been soaked with rain a day
before, and pressed it into a crucible; in this
state 2 found’ its specific gravity to that of
water as § to 3+ It was then exposed to a mo-
derate heat till it appeared, as near as I could
judge, of the same moisture as garden soil two
inches deep in dry summer weather ; afterwards
it was exposed almost to a red heat till it be-
came a perfectly dry powder; in the former case
it Jost» of its weight, and in the latter £—
When it had lost 4, it did not appear too dry
tO support vegetation. When it had lost 4,
it appeared like the top soil in summer.—
Hence it follows, that every foot of earth
On Rain, Evaporation, &c. 971
in depth, ‘so ‘saturated, contains ‘7 inches’ of
water, and that it may part with one quarter of
its water, or even one half, and not be too dry
for supporting vegetation.
Clay, just dug out for the purpose of watts
bricks, was tried in the same manner: It gave
the same specific gravity as the earth, and yielded
not much less water,
These experiments and observations prove,
that M. dela Hire’s conclusions, drawn fbi
the vegetation of plants in a given quantity of
soil, precluded from any communication with
the earth at large, are erroneous, or at least un-
warranted: As it does not thence appear that the
evaporation for the whole year exceeds the rain
in the year, whatever it ai ‘do for a month or
two in summer. -*
The origin of springs may still therefore be
attributed to rain, till some more decisive ex-
periments appear to the contrary; and it be-
comes unnecessary to controvert the other two
opinions respecting this subject.
Upon the whole it should seem, that at the
commencement of spring, the ground is nearly
saturated with water for 5 or 6 feet in depth, as
the rains and dews in autumn and winter far ex-
ceed the evaporation: There are then 5 or 6
inches of water at least tobe raised up again to °
the surface in case of exigence in the spring and
372 On Rain, Evaporation, &c.
summer: If this happen to be so, then it is at
the expence of springs ; for we find the gene-
rality of springs become languid, or entirely
cease to flow at the end of a long drought. As
to the few springs that seem to be little affected
by dry or wet seasons, they form exceptions
which it would not be difficult to account for.
ee
373
EXPERIMENTS and OBSERVA-
TIONS on the Power of Fluids to conduct
HEAT ; wth Reference to Count Rum-
ford’s Seventh Essay on the same Subject.
BY JOHN DALTON,
READ APRIL 12TH, 1799.
if be nature and properties of fire or heat are
subjects which present themselves to our con-
sideration in almost every department of physics :
It is no wonder therefore that new experiments,
which point out and define the modes of opera-
_ tion of fire, before unobserved, or at least too
much overlooked, should attract the attention of
philosophers.—These observations were suggest-
ed upon reading Count Rumford’s very inge-
nious experiments, in his essay abovementioned,
which exhibit a fact in a more striking point of
view than it has appeared before—namely, that
the quickness of the circulation and diffusion of heat
in fluids, 2s occasioned principally by the internal
motion arising from a change of specific gravity
effected by the heat.—But the conclusion he has
drawn from them—that fluids are perfect non-
374 On the Power of Fluads io conduct Heat.
conductors of heat, in the way in which solids
conduct ii, appears to me totally unwarranted
from. the experiments, and erroneous in itself,
And as it may be an error of practical conse-
quence, if adopted, the exposition of it seemed:
desirable—which,is the object of the following
remarks. and experiments.
My first attempt was to ascertain the prectse
degree of cold \at\ which water ‘ceases to be
further condensed—and likewise. how much
expands in cooling below that degree to the
temperature of freezing, or 32°. For this pur-
pose I took a thermometer tube, such as would
have given a scale of 10 inches with mercury
from 32° to 212°, and filled it with pure water.
I then graduated it by an accurate mercurial
thermometer, putting them together into a bason
filled with water of various degrees of heat, and
stirring it occasionally : As it is well known, that
water does not expand in proportion to its heat,
it does not therefore afford a thermometric scale
of equal parts, like quicksilver.
‘From repeated trials agreeing in the result,
1 find, that the water thermometer is at’ the
lowest point of the scale it is capable of, that is)
water is of the greatest density at 42° of the
mercurial thermometer. From 419% to 44? in-
clusively the variation is so small as to be just
perceptible on the scale; but above or below
On the Power of Fluids to conduct Heat. 978
those degrees, the expansion has an increasing
ratio, and at 32° it amounts to 4th of an inch,
or about zisth part of the whole expansion’ from
42° to 212° or boiling heat.—During the in-
vestigation of this subject, my attention was ar=
rested by the circumstance, that the expansion of
water was the same for any number of degrees
from the point of greatest condensation, no mat-
ter whether above or below it: thus, I found
that 32, which are 1004 below the point of
greatest density, agreed exactly with 530, which
are 10° above the said point; and so did all the
intermediate degrees on both sides, Conse-
quently when the water thermometer stood af
53°, it was impossible to say, without a know-
ledge of other circumstances, whether its tem-
perature was really 53°, or 32°. Recollecting some
experiments of Dr, Blagden in the Philosophical
Transactions, from which it appears that water was
cooled down to 21° or 22° without freezing, I
was Curious to see how far this law of expansion
would continue below the freezing point, pre-
viously to the congelation of the water, and
therefore ventured to put the water thermometer
into a mixture of snow and salt, about 25° below
the freezing point, expecting the bulb to be burst
when the sudden congelation took place. After
taking it out of a mixture of snow and water,
where it stood at 32° (that is 53° per scale) I
i
976 On the Power of Fluids to conduct Heat.
immersed it into the cold mixture, when it rose,
at first slowly, but increasing in velocity, it passed
60°, 70°, and was going up towards 80°, when
I took it out to see if there was any ice in the
bulb, but it remained perfectly transparent: I
immersed it again and raised it to 75° per scales
when in an instant it darted up to 128°, and that
moment taking it out, the bulb appeared
white and opake, the water within being frozen:
Fortunately it was not burst; and the liquid
which was raised thus to the top of the scale was
not thrown out, though the tube was unsealed.
Upon applying the hand, the ice was melted and
the liquid resumed its station. This experiment
was repeated and varied, at the expence of several
thermometer bulbs, and it appeared that water
may be cooled down in such circumstances, not
only to 21°, but to 5° or 6°, without freezing,
and that the law of expansion abovementioned
obtains in every part of the scale from 42° to
10° or below ; so that the density of water at 10*
is equal to the density at 75°. But as the dis
covery of this curious, and I believe hitherto un-
noticed property, has little to do with the object
before us, I shall say no more of it at present.
Count Rumford’s principal experiments are
those in which a cake of ice was confined on the
bottom of a cylindrical glass jar, of 4.7 inches
in diameter, and 14 high, and water poured upon
On the Power of Fluids to conduct Heat. 377
it of different temperatures suffering it to stand,
without agitation. He found that about 61b. of
boiling hot water melted little more ice than as
much water of 41°; and that by making such
allowances as the experiments seemed to warrant
for deductions when hot water was used, water of
41°, or g° above the freezing point, melted quite
as much, and often more, than the~hot water:
From which he infers, that water, and by analogy
all other fluids, do not transmit heat in the man-
ner that solids do, but circulate it sae by the
internal motion of their particles.
The existence of this internal motion he has
proved decidedly; that water of a certain tem-
perature being of the greatest density, will always”
take the Jowest place, and water either warmer or
colder than that degree will ascend. This
degree of greatest condensation he takes on the
authority of others at 40°; it appears however
from the experiment related above, to be still
more favourable to his position, namely 42°: :
-And that water of 32° must ascend till it comes
to water of 53°, if it be not cooled in its pro-
gress, which circumstance he admits.
- Upon considering the facts related in his
experiments therefore, there are three causes
which suggest themselves as conspiring to cir-
culate and diffuse the heat, by which the ice is
melted,
378 Onthe Power of Fluids to conduct Heat.
ist. The internal motion of the liquid, by
- which water of 32°, incumbent upon the ice, is
perpetually ascending into a warmer region of
53°, and watmer water of 42°: descending to take
its place,
od. The proper conducting power of the
liquid independent of internal motion,
gd. The conducting power of the glass
jar. But as glass is known to be a very bad con-
ductor of heat, it can produce no material
effect in these experiments: For which reason
Count Rumford does not appreciate the third
cause.
With respect to the operation of the first
cause, it will generally be supposed that cold water
rising into warmer and remaining with it, the
heat is impaired, and the two reduced to a com-~
mon temperature. But Count Rumford does not
admit of this communication; he maintains, that
the two still retain there proper share of heat,
notwithstanding they are mixed together. This
hypothesis of his is of no peculiar consequence
as far as respects the effect of the internal.
motion: For the temperature indicated by a
thermometer immersed in an equal mixture of
water at 32° and 53°, would be the same.as if the
water was uniformly of the temperature 42°.
But it has material consequences in other re-
spects; for, if it be admitted, it annihilates the ©
On the Power of Fluids to conduct Heat. 379
second cause abovementioned, and it would follow
that warm water being put upon cold water above
the temperature of 42°, the heat could not in
any degree be propagated downwards, unless. by
agitation, and even then, upon subsiding, the
warm part ought to rise to the top, and the cold
fall to the bottom.
These positions are so manifestly contradic-
tory to common-opinion, that they can not be
received without proof. But Count Rumford has
not given us a single experiment to prove them.
It seemed necessary therefore, to clear up this
point by direct experiments.
2
Experiment 1.
Took a large tumbler glass, 9: inches di-
ameter, and 5 inches deep, and filled it half way
with water of 54°, then gently filled up the rest
by means of a small syphon, with water of 88°;
a thermometer, with its bulb.and stem detached
from the frame, being previously immersed, to
the bottom. ‘The temperatures at the top~ and
middle were had by gently immersing the bulb
of another thermometer into the water.
380 On the Power of Fluids to conduct Heat.
- Time 1 TEMPERATURE
elapsed. °° ~ attop. inthe middle. at bottom.
i , 88° £ pi ta 51°
5 min; Me, ——: 54
te-«: 83 age 56
£6?°.? “80 72-4 58
30 76 —. 60
40 2193 —_—— 61
50 0 70 —_— 6x
60° 69 — 61>
(Air in the room 50°.) .
Experiment 2.
The same as before ; only a circular piece
of wood floated upon the surface of the water,
on the centre of which the stream of the syphon
was directed to prevent the current downwards.
(Air in the room 55%)
: TEMPERATURE
Time. at top. at bottom.
Before the water was poured on .....- 56°
rs e2°4:06° 56+.
10 min. 105 56
20 ie g2 57 —
3° Bas cate
40 80 572
5° 77 58+
‘
;
On the Power of Fluids to conduct Heat. 381
TEMPERATURE
Time. at top. at bottom.
2h. 10min. 72°5 58°r
— 20 70 59—
— g0 67 58x
— 40 65 58+
mae 63 58
Bh eae 62 58 —
— 15 61 571
= 90 - 592 57
a. 572 56 (Air 52°)
tisha 53 53 Do.
A similar result was obtained in a different
way by the following.
Experiment 3.
Took an ale glass of a conical figure, 22
inches in diameter and 3 inches deep; filled it
with water that had been standing in the room,
and consequently of the temperature of the air
nearly—Put the bulb of a thermometer to the
bottom of the glass, the scale being out of the
water: Then, having marked the temperature,
I put the red hot tip of a poker, half an inch deep
into the water, holding it there steadily about
half a minute ; and as soon as it was withdrawn,
I dipt the bulb of a sensible thermometer into
382 On the Power of Fluids to conduct Heat.
the water about I inch, when it rose ina few
seconds to 180°.
_ TEMPERATURE
Time. at top. middle. bottom.
Before the poker was immersed ......---+e0++-= 47°
— 180° 47°
5 min. 100 60° A7t
\ £0 70 60 49
1h.— 55 _— 52
These experiments all evidently agree in
proving water to have a proper conducting
power, independent of any internal motion.—
It surely will not be said that any slight motion
unavoidably made at the beginning of an ex-
periment, could continue with a powerful effect
‘for upwards of an hour.—However, to determine
this matter, I made the two following experi-
ments,
Experiment 4.
Took the glass tumbler of the first experiment,
and filled it half way with rain water, deeply
tinged with archil; then filled it up with clear
warm water, as related in the 2d experiment.—
The upper half was but just perceptibly tinged
by the process and uniformly so; it remained
for an hour not visibly altered in this respect,
though by frequently putting the bulb of a ther-
On the Power of Fluids to conduct Heat. 382
mometer down to the middle, the colour at last
rose in a small degree.
(Air 45°)
TEMPERATURE
at top. middle. bottom.
Before the warm water was poured on . . 44°
Time 105° — ae
7min, = 97 = 47+
17 86 — 48
27 79 Mee eae 49.
37 75 68 _§0
47 qo 66 50+
57 66 62 51t
1h. 7 60 62 Rin.
Fal 604 59 bit
— 27 59 a 51z
Experiment 5.
A glass tube near an inch in diameter, and
36 inches long, was half filled with a coloured
solution ‘of common salt in water, warm; a small
thermometer was wholly immersed in it, and
cold clear water carefully poured upon the whole
so as'to fill the tube; the colour ascended very
little, and continued invariable after the process
of filling.—The warm solution was of course
made of greater specific gravity than the cold
water,
I
384 On the Power of Fluids to conduct Heat.
(Air 45°)
TEMPERATURE
at top. bottom.
Time. 45° 85°
5 min. i588 . 79
10 53 14
21 52 69
31 51 |) 6B
45 50% 64
58 50 61
rh.gt , rf MS 55%
3 130 ch Greate 5%
mets , 47 5°
A 15 — 49
Oh ge aes. Rena 48
To determine whether hot and cold water
being suddenly mixed, and agitated, the hot
would afterwards rise to the top, was the ob-
ject of ; pgs
Experiment 6.
Air in the room 50°.—About 4) pint’ of
water of 130° was poured into a cold tumbler
glass, and immediately after as much water of
50°; the mixture was agitated for half a minute
by a deal rod; after which an immersed thermo-
meter stood at 85°, both at top and bottom; it
On the Power of Fluids to conduct Heat. 385
was ‘then set by in a still place for examina-
tions |
TEMPERATURE
Time. at top. bottom.
15 min, WJ a a7
go 73 723
45 68 673
rth, — 64.8 64.6
From all these experiments it is evident,
_ that water has a proper. conducting power: In
the last experiment, if the particles of water
during the agitation had not actually communi-
cated their heat, the hot ones ought to have
Tisen to the top, and the cold ones subsided so
as to have made a material difference in the
temperature.—It is, however, equally evident,
that water is a bad conductor of heat, probably as
it is of electricity ; the descent of the heat in the
second experiment is wonderfully slow ; a slight
agitation for one second would do as much to
induce the equilibrium as standing still one our.
In repeating the third experiment, in a wine
glass, I have several times known, water 3 an
inch deeper to differ 50° in temperature from the
‘Incumbent water.
We must conclude, therefore, that the quick
circulation of heat in water over.a fire, &c. is
owing principally to the internal motion excited
386 Onthe Power of Fluids to conduct Heat.
by an alteration of specific gravity ; but not
solely to that cause as Count Rumford has in-
ferred.
If it be proved that water conducts heat, it
will scarcely be necessary to prove, that other
fluids conduct it, and that they communicate it
one to another :—The two following experiments
shew that mercury conducts it, and that water
and mercury reciprocally communicate it.
Experiment 7.
Took a cylindrical glass tube, of 1 inch in-
ternal diameter, and put 13 inches in depth of
mercury into it, and immersed the bulb and
stem of a thermometer to the bottom, the scale
as usual being above the liquid; then put 24
inches of warm water upon it by a syphon, and
let it stand without agitation,
TEMPERATURE. TEMPERATURE.
Merc. Waiter. Time. Merc. Water,
Time. 56° 122 14M, 74°F 92°
3m. 70 118 19 73 87
6 73 110 27 71 78
11 75 190
Experiment 8.
Into a tumbler glass, 2} inches in diameter, —
poured an inch in depth of mercury, and heated
On the Power of Fluids to conduct Heat. 387
it to 110°; upon which was poured an inch of
water at 50°, and then kept still.
TEMPERATURE.
Mere. Water.
Time. 110° 50°
4 min, 74, 79
8 7 70%
Io 79x 7°
Finding that water was so bad a conductor
of heat, I was desirous to learn how ice would
- conduct it, and tried it as follows, °
Experiment g.
Feb. oth. Out of a mass of ice, by means of
a hot iron, I shaped a cylindrical piece, 3 inches
in diameter, and 53 inches long, clean and pure ;
its weight 17 ounces. Made a small round hole
at one end, one inch deep, and the size of a
thermometer bulb, which was inclosed in it.—
The other end of the piece was put into a bason
of snow and salt, to the depth of from 3 to IZ
inches, the temperature of which was kept below
10° for 1} hours. Air 37°.
Therm. inthe © Therminthe
Time elapsed, liquid, ice.
5 32°
3 ‘ e
1Zh. atamedium 7 gk
88 On the Power of Fluids to conduct Heat.
-N.B. This descent of half a degree was
graudal, but did not commence till long after the
beginning of the experiment.—After this the
piece of ice was inclined to one side, by which
nearly one half of it was immersed in the cooling
liquid, and theinclosed bulb of the thermometer
was now not more than an inch from the cold
mixture. »
Therm.inthe Term. in the
H. M. liquid. - “30e,
1 50r 14° 28°
2 20 19 28
2 5O 22° Ice along with the
therm. slipped down
into the cold liquid.
The ice now weighed 123 ounces: the rest
had been liquified by the operation of the saline
liquor.
This experiment, I think, decidedly proves
that ice is a worse conductor of heat than
water :—Indeed this is not wonderful ; for it is
said, that ice at a low temperature becomes an
electric.
It is certainly a remarkable circumstance,
but not at all inconsistent with the known laws
of heat, that in a mixture of hot and cold
+ From the beginning of the experiment.
On the Power of Fluds to conduct Héat. 389
liquids, the uniform temperature should be ‘so
soon induced by agitaticn and°so’ slowly, by'rest =
But when we consider, that in the former case,
hot and cold particles are brought together, and
that in the latter there is a series of particles one
upon another, gradually rising in temperature,
but differing by- insensible degrees, we shall
not wonder at the facts. When any one par-
ticle of water, or any ‘other body, has one above
it, warmer by an insensible degree, and another
below it, colder ‘by an insensible degree,’ its
power to transmit heat must be very small,—
These considerations gave rise to the two fol-
roping, experiments,
Experiment 10.
A mercurial. thermometer was taken, its
bulb ¥ inch in diameter, and hanging clear of
the scale: It was heated by the;flame of a
candle to 600°, and then laid upon a table with
the bulb projecting over the edge, and was thus
left to cool by the mere operation of the air in
the room, which was 52°.—The following is the
medium result of two experiments, hi thas how-
ever, agreed with each other almost in every
observation, 9
390 On the Power of Fluids to conduct Heat.
Time. Lemp. | Time. Temp.
° 1, 600° 18 half m. 66°
thalfm. 450 19 64
2 350 20 | 62
3 280 dag Sr 60
4 wae aS ote
5 195 23 58
i aoe 168 24 57
7 145 25 56
8 128 26 55
het 115 Rs oe 54
10. 104 28 ou.
11 95 a9 53
18 88 30 53
13 81 gt 53
14. 77 32 52+
15 73 33 5%
16 69+. Air in the room §2
17 68
Experiment 11.
Another thermometer, having a similar bulb,
but a scale with much larger degrees, was heated
and cooled in the same manner.
Time. Temp. Time. Temp.
85° Shalfm, 61°2
halfm, 792 © 9 ; 60
wan bow» |
Oy
co
|
~
tw
nn
eo
On thé Power of Fluids to conduct Heat. 391
Time. Temp. Time. Temp.
16 56°.3 24 55°33
17 563 25 55-25
18. 56 26 55-2—
19 55-9 27 55-1
20 557+ | 28 551—
21 55-6+ 29 55+
22 55:5 39 55
23 55-4
In these experiments we may consider mer-
cury and air mixed together of unequal tem-
peratures, with a thin partition of glass—and
from the last we may conclude, that the thermo
meter imparted to the air 40 times more heat in
half a minute, when its temperature was 30°
above the air, than when it was only 1°
above it.
We shall now advert a littleto CountRumford’s
experiments.—It will easily appear, that arguing
fairly upon his own hypothesis he can never ac-
count for the phenomena observed: For, hot
water being poured upon ice, an internal motion
would take place near the surface of the ice, by
which a stratum of water of a certain thickness
would be reduced to ge2°, and then all further
reduction of the ice must cease; because all the
superincumbent water being above 53° would be
lighter and could not descend to, the ice. But’ -
this is quite contrary to what took, place. .The
VOL, Y. K
392 On the Power of Fluids to conduct Heat.
facts, however, will. admit of a satisfactory ex-
planation upon established principles. .
By experiments 10 and 13, it appears, that
the quantity of heat given out by a body,
during any small given portion of time, is nearly
as the excess of the temperature of the body
above the cooling medium. Hence, then, we
may conclude, that the effect of hot water upon
ice arising from the proper conducting power of
water, will be nearly as the heat of the water.
What effect the other cause may produce, it will
be difficult to determine from theory: Experience
will be the best guide, One thing, however,
appears pretty certain, that its effect must be
a maximum, when the temperature of the water at
large is 42°; because then there can never want
a determination of the particles downward to
supply the place of the lighter water of 32° as.
cending. If the temperature ofthe water exceed
42°3, then the effect of the internal motion will
be less, diminishing by some unknown ratio. As
far as I can judge from Count R.’s experiments,
the joint effects of those two causes should be
nearly the same with water of 42° and water of
190°. Taking this, therefore, for granted, we
shall be enabled to sketch a table of the values
_ of these two causes for every 10° of temperature,
The numbéts expressing the effect of the proper
conducting power, are derived from the 1oth
On the Power of Fluids to conduct Heat, 393
experiment, and consequently are not purely
hypothetical: those expressing the other effect,
except 42° and 192°, are put down hypotheti-
cally, aa the law of ma Sie has not been
ascertained.
It is to be supposed, that a given quantity
of water, of the several temperatures mentioned,
is carefully poured upon a cake of ice at the
bottom of a cylindrical glass jar, and stands
Without agitation for a given time, as half an
hour; then the proportionate quantity of ice
supposed to be melted by the two causes se-
parately are stated in numbers, and then the
sums are taken to express the joint effects.
oe qiog
“SP ‘TP “86 “9S VG 5 COGS Sado ay 0S “66 66 66 "86 86 “OS “HE “LE ‘86 86-0 payout
rata: [e107
SS
‘S s ‘é 6 ov. “¢ om? 8 OL F6hs SF OD 6 “65. TS "Gg song
uoro0Uur
Teusoqur ony
Aq poyour aor
. Taye
sajajaed
-ONpuod oy3
Aq poyjow aoy
‘901 3Y} uO
19}€M O]} Jo
aanjesodua y
Ig}
‘ “UM OY} Jo 19
POR, “SB. OR, 8S 08 MB SE. ew IS SEE SLE CHL BP HG 9g -mod Suny
0F1Z 0G C'S GBBE GAT GOT GOK VT GCL GBI GBI _ BOL 606 GBB yh O09 Oo DoF .
On the Power of Fluids to conduct Heat. 395
After what has been said, I need not caution
my readers not to consider this table as accurate.
The principle of it, however, cannot I conceive be
disproved: that the operation of the conducting
power must be proportionate to a series of num-
bers beginning from o at 32°, and gradually in-
creasing in some ratio with the temperature
above 32°, cannot, I think, be controverted;
and that the operation of the internal motion
must begin from o at 32°, and increase till it
arrives at its maximum at 42°3, and then decrease
again ever after, is also, I apprehend, unquestion-
able; thus, when the jar had water of 42°, in
Count R.’s experiments, this internal motion
must have had a range of 8 inches in depth;
whereas, when hot water alone was used, it had
not more than 3 of aninch to range from the
temperature of 32 to that of 59°.
The following table exhibits a concise view
of all the materiai varieties of Count Rumford’s
experiments, with their result,
LYL
surerg, £19
* ssonnurat
O€ Uy pofour soy
nV
3E 197eM 2 9d
3E 19}eM 2 9d]
9 uy
19 UV
; "yoom. 103109 fo :
Super usva® v
ol V ony
Aq popunos
eas tel oy) Ul doe AL
Qot
tilt
oP
i¥gt
¥,0P
‘oiniviad
“WoL, winipayy
09 19
6 19
b9 gst
LG1 Ogr
5 17
Ogt 6gt
eo ol V
puo Suruargaq ay) ry
"991 OY? UO poinod usym
IBM OY) Jo ounjesodmay,
o& juoutsedx 7
On the Power of Fluids to conduct Heat. 397
Count Rumford attempts to explain why
there was less ice melted in such experiments as
the 4sth than in those like the 39th, and attri-
butes the diminution of the effect to the de-
scending currents, occasioned by the cold mix-
ture surrounding the warm one, which he thinks
would obstruct the opposite ones ascending from
the ice. But the effect in the 51st, compared
with the 53d, being just opposite, he passes
over without explanation.—I have no doubt my-
self, but that the true cause of the differences in
both cases, is to be found in the column expres-
sing the mean temperature of the water, and noi
in that expressing its situation, which I consider
as having nothing to doin the business, but as
it affects the general temperature. The maximum
effect with cold water will be when it is of the
‘temperature of about 48° or 50°, and the mz-
mum above it probably about 100° or 120°;
and in proportion as the mean temperatures,
in any experiment, deviate from those points,
the effects vary accordingly, let other circum-.
stances be what they may.
Thus I have attempted to explain the ra-
tionale of these very curious and interesting ex-
periments, in a manner different to what their
ingenious author has done. And must now leave
it to the reader to form his opinion,
398
EXPERIMENTS on the VELOCITY of
AIR zssuing out of a Vessel in different
circumstances; with the Description of an
instrument to measure the force of the Blast
in Bellows, 8c. By Mr. BANKS, Lecturer
in Natural Philosophy. Communicated. by
Mr. DALTon.
READ, MAY 30, 1800.
Tue object of this enquiry may be announced
in the following proposition. If an elastic fluid
‘is generated in a given vessel, orany way contained
in it, andat liberty to issue out of the said vessel
through a given aperture, to determine the resist
ance which the vessel meets with from its action, or
the power which it has of communicating motion
to the vessel, asin a sky rocket, Saddler’s steam~
engine, &c.
Before we proceed to relate the experiments it may
be proper to premise certain principles deduced
from Theory. Ifa tube be filled with any kind
of fluid, as air, water, mercury, &c., and placed in
a vacuum, every fluid -will flow out with the same
velocity. For though the pressure of a column of
mercury of a given altitude, be much greater than
On the Velocity of Air. 399
an equal column of water, yet the weight of the
particles to be projected is greater in the same
ratio. Onthe other hand, if air is lighter than
water, the particles projected are also lighter in
proportion. Ifa tube 16 feet high be filled
with air of any density, that air, like water, would
flow into a vacuum with a velocity of 32 feet per
second, no corrections being made for resistance.*
And if we take the gravity of air to water as
1 to 840, then a column of one foot of water,
compressing air, will produce as great a velocity
in that air asa column of air 840 feet high, sup-
posing it was of uniform density.
If we take the whole pressure of the atmosphere
equal to 33 feet of water, or its height (supposing
it to be equally dense, which in this case will make
no difference) equal to 33 multiplied by 840, or
27720 feet. Then as the square root of 16, is to
32, the velocity at that depth ; so is the square root
of 27720, to 1332 feet per second, the initial
velocity of the atmosphere into a vacuum.
* In the supposition of a perpendicular tube open at
the top, filled with air or any elastic fluid, the author
takes the density of the column at the bottom or where
the aperture is made, to arise solely from the weight of
the elastic column ; and the altitude to be that which
would be if the whole column were reduced to the
density of that at the bottom.
VOL. V. L
400 _ On the Velocity of Air.
To prove whether air gompressed by 39 feet
of water would be impelled into the atmosphere
with the above velocity, I have made, amongst
many more, the following experiments.
A is a vessel of a known capacity, into the top
of which is screwed an aperture of a known area.
The tube Td recurve at d is soldered or screwed
into the top of the said vessel, The hole ais
stopped, and water poured into the tube at T
till it is full, at which time a quantity of water
will have passed out of the tube at d, and con-
densed the air in the vessel, more or less as the
tube T d is longer or shorter.
At this time a person who has closed the aper-
ture at d with a finoer of one hand, and held a
half second pendulum in the other, removes both
at the same time, while at the same moment
an assistant opens a cock over the tube 7, which
‘supplies it with water as fast as it can descend
into d. The moment that the water appears at
a, the time piece is stopped, and the time of
expelling the air is noted, from which, by know-
ing the capacity of the vessel, the velocity may
be obtained,
If the tube Td should be continued near the
bottom of the vessel A, while it was filling with
water, the length of the compressing column
On the Velocity of Aur. 404
would be gradually diminishing, and of conse-
quence the pressure would be constantly chang-
ing, hence the open end of the tubeis as near
the top of the vessel as is consistent with a free
passage for the water,
Experiments.
The vessel 4 contained 15\b. 6 oz. of water,
from which we find its capacity is 425.088 cubic
inches.
The area of the aperture a, through which
the air is expelled is ,o046 inches, 3
Exper. 1st. The altitude of T above the vessel
is 30 inches. Time of expelling the
air by several trials is 33 seconds.
Exper. 2d. Thealtitude of Tis 6 feet. The
time of filling by several trials is 21.3
seconds,
In the first experiment, 425.088, the solidity
of the vessel, divided by ,0046, the area of the
hole a, gives 92410.4 inches for the length of
the stream of air driven out in 93 seconds;
divide that length by 33, and we shall have 293.3
feet, the velocity per second, communicated by
30 inches of water,
402 On the Velocity of Air.
The second experiment by the same process
gives 361.6 feet per second. If we would com-
pare these together, we may say, as the square
root of 30, the head, is to 233.3 the velocity ; so
is the square root of 72, the second head, ta
361.8 feet the velocity per second.
Again:—As the square root of 6 feet, 1s to
361,6; so isthe square root of 33 feet, to 845.2
feet per second, the velocity produced by that
head; or the initial velocity with which the
atmosphere would enter a vacuum, This velocity
found by experiment is 487 feet per second less
than has been assigned by theory,
It appears however that the results as deter-
mined by theory and experiment do not differ
more than in the case of effluent water. For, if
we would reduce the velocity of effluent water,
found by theory to that which experience gives,
we must multiply it by ,634. Accordingly, if
we muluply 1932 feet, the velocity of the atmos-
phere entering a vacuum, as calculated above by
3634, the product is 844.5 per second, differing
but zo of a foot from that just found by
experiment.
I have also made experiments by sinking vessels
in water, till their tops were even with its sur-
face, and opening the aperture that the rising
water might expel the air, by which I obtained
On the Velocity of Air. 403
the same velocities as above; but the method of
computing is much more intricate, for which
reason I shall not insert them.
From the above, it appears that a pressure
equal to 93 feet of water, will expel air out
of bellows into the atmosphere with a velocity
of 845 feet per second, that one foot of water
in-depth will produce a velocity of 1474 feet,
and one inch a velocity of 42 feet per second,
or 20 miles an hour. .
Hence we may construct a table shewing
the velocity communicated to air by any head
of water. For, as the square root of 6 feet, is
to the velocity produced by that head; so is
the square root of any other depth, to the velocity
produced by that depth.
We may also, from the above, construct an
instrument which will shew the velocity with
which air flows out of any kind of bellows,
with as much accuracy as the experiments have
been made, on which its construction depends.
404 On the Velocity of Air.
Description of the Instrument, ec.
ee RE
The metal box or tube B, may be about the
size of the figure; the top must be made air
tight by the cover L; into the bottom is fixed
the small tube. AC, and into the piece D is
cemented the glass tube ED; the instrument
is then inverted, and some water poured through
the tube AC, till when in its proper position it
is visible at D. It is now ready for use, and the
end A may be fixedin a hole 1 nade in the upper
board of the bellows, and the water will rise in
the glass tube, in smiths’ bellows generally from
9 to 12 inches, furnace bellows generally 4 feet or
more. But where the fa Boe is great,
quicksilver may be use d instead of water, only in
this case’ the instrupen ts ould be made of iron,
causes the screws of brass to break.
a uicksil ver, the tube ED may be
length of 12 or
i be eno igh for any blast. The glass
st be more than one eighth or one
as quicksilve
Rint Ree
Or, instead o
enth of an inch in diameter.
- ieee ris eae ia ee : : j
Whatever compression there may be in the
bellows there will be the same in the upper part
ol, 5. Pl. ViFage, 404.
is = ;
’
“ ‘ ' pe :
;
t e : ;
: =
, i
~
, ; : ;
; :
A *
ee |
ae : E oF re
Wares:
goa
= RN ,
r
3
.
J :
= | : “Pee.
te oh) — Le . ae : ; a :
" ee ree” ee ee ur ot: See;
- er : r
: ‘ 7 ‘ ie
z f
i = ' :
N
7 , 3
'
‘ '
On the Velocity of Air. 405
of the tube B, which will force the water into the
glass tube DE, and, make the air in its upper part
of the same density, deducting from the com-
pressing force, the altitude of the water raised
above D, which however will be of little or no
importance ; if the gauge is placed in a horizontal
position, with the glass tube downward, there will
be no difference of density.
The computation for the force in the case
where a tube hermetically sealed at the top is
adopted in the instrument, will be effected by
considering that the space occupied by any
elastic fluid is inversely as its force.—Thus, let
the tube be 12 inches long, and suppose the
water to be raised 1 inch; then it will be 11: 12:2
the force of the atmosphere : the force of the.
air in the tube:: 1 : 1¢;——Hence a scale may be
adapted to the instrument, to express the force
of condensation over and above the common
atmospheric pressure; which force is signified
in the instance above by the fraction s:, unity
being the atmospheric pressure. If we de-
note the atmospheric pressure by go inches of
mercury, or 32 feet of water, then the force 7%,
in the above example will be expressed by 2,727
inches of mercury, or 2.91 feet of water; and
the like for any other instance,
406 On the Velocity of Air.
If a mercurial instrument of the above con-
struction be preferred, it becomes necessary to
add the height of the mercurial column to the
force found as above: thus, if the condensation
of air be from 12 into g inches, then the addition
to the force of the internal air in the tube is equal
4,0r 10 inches of mercury, to which must be
added the 9 inches raised in the tube, and the
whole force will be 13 inches of mercury, ex-
clusive of that of the atmosphere.
This sort of instrument or guage serves equally
well for finding the expansive force of any kind of
elastic fluid, as for measuring the velocities with
which they issue out of the place of their confine-
ment. It may be applied to all kinds of bellows,
to condensed steam, and to the air pump.
407
ESSAY on the BEAUTIFUL in the
Human Form; and Enquiry whether the
Grecian Statues present the most perfect
BEAUTY of FORM, that we at present
have any Acquaintance with.
Communicated to the Society from a CorReEsPonpeEnt,
through the Rev. Georce WALKER,
READ, Oct. 3, 1800,
Ik order to judge whether the Grecian imi-
tations, or any other imitations, of the Human
Form be the most beautiful, it appears necessary
that some standard, some general law or rule
should be admitted, in conformity to, or in
deviation from which, the sentence of beauty or
deformity may be safely passed. That this
‘standard has an existence in nature can hard]
be doubted ; for, if man be the work of a design—
ing artist, he must have been formed according
to some model ; and this model in the contem-
Vex. M
508 On the Beautiful in the Grecian Statues.
plation of the artist must be the standard of what
is the most perfect of the species, and as far as
the form is concerned, of what is the most
beautiful in the form. The mind of the artist
may then be investigated im his work, and it might
seem to be no very difficult thing to collect a
tolerably accurate idea of what answers to the
_more perfect idea of the artist, by omitting what is
incidental and peculiar to every individual of the
species, and retaining what is universal, And
perhaps by a standard thus collected, though
insensibly, and without any deliberate purpose,
“every one does judge of what he deems to be
beautiful in the form of his own kind, and in
every form whatever. We find therefore that,
in the estimation of the beautiful in the human
form, there is 4 general agreement as to the
contour or outline of the whole and of the parts,
the comparative magnitude of each part, the pro-
portion that each bears to each other and tothe
whole, and the order and degree in which each
swells and falls. Whatever is remarkably exces»
sive or defective, whatever strikingly offends
against the general character and proportion of
the parts, whatever beyond the general rule is
abrupt and extravagant in the swell or fall, is
almost universally rejected as not beautiful;
On the Beautiful im the Grecian Siatues. 409
because not answering to that medium standard
which every one has erected in his own mind»
and which he has collected from the exhibition
of his species. There is therefore in the imagi~
nation of every one a standard, collected from
observation, but insensibly and without design,
to which he refers every form, that attracts his
attention, and agreeably to which he pronounces
that it is beautiful or otherwise, and in what degree
it pleases or offends. it is an ideal figure, which
the eye of the mind can contemplate, and does
contemplate and does refer to, though the rational
mind cannot describe this figure; because the
figure has been imperceptibly formed, corrected,
improved through life, in which the senses, and
not reason, have been altogether employed. The
ultimate figure, as a picture of the imagination,
is the abstract of all the impressions which have
been received from a multitude of original forms
preserving what is characteristic of all, and
rejecting whatever is incidental, excessive or de-
fective, superinduced by violence or art, or in
any respect offending against the general character
of the form.
This perhaps is the secret foundation of what
we call taste, or the perception of the beautiful,
whether as referred to the human or to any other
form whatever. I do not say, that this is the
Aio On the Beautiful in the Grecian Statues,
only foundation, and that there is no other rule
or principle, by which our estimation of the
beautiful is influenced ; but I think it to be the
principal foundation : and the remarkable con-
sentaneity of taste and decision of the beautiful,
especially of the human figure, proves that our
rule is derived from nature, from our constant ob-
servation of the originals, as they have issued from
the forming hand of the great artist ; and that thus
acquiring an abstract idea of the whole, we enter
as it were, whether intending it or no, into the
mind of the artist himself, and erect a standard of
what he designed as the most perfect, and there-
fore the most beautiful, in the form which he has
. given to man.
In this investigation of the standard of taste
and the decision of the beautiful, although a
general consent be acknowledged, yet itis mani-
fest that the rule or standard will be more or less
perfect, as the field of observation has Been more
or less extensive, and as successive comparisons
with the standard already attained, and the intro-
duction to more perfect forms, with fewer devi-
ations from the medium character, have chastened
in the imagination the picture of the beautiful.
Every step in the progress towards this perfect
image is the selection of a few from the general
aed
On the Beautiful inthe Grecian Statues, 4114
mass ; from continued observation rejecting some
from this few; admitting others; till the field of
observation is exhausted, and we rest in the image
which is the result of the whole.
But as the originals which are the subject of
observation will in some respects vary from the
influence which climate, occupation, manners, and
even the cultivation of mind, have on the human
form, it will follow that a variation in the idea
of the beautiful is to be expected, and that differ-
ent circumstances may be so favourable to some,
as to render their conception of the beautiful more
approximate to the faultless truth and standard of
nature.
_ This secret and imperceptible progress towards
an ideal standard of beauty may be illustrated by
the supposition of an experiment, easily to be
conceived, though not easily to be carried into
execution. Ifimpressions from the faces of all
the women in this kingdom at the age of twenty,
were taken on any plastic substance, as suppose
plaster of Paris; excluding however those who
come into the world with obvious excess or defect,
who have been maimed by injury, or blemished by
any superinduced cause, as excess of labour or
rest, intemperance, deficiency of sustenance, orany
excess or defect of the passions of the mind ; andan
atlist were to form a face that was the mean of all
412 On the Beautiful in the Grecian Statues.
these ; it would surely. be admitted that this face
would be the perfect model of our national
beauty.. If the same experiment were made in
other nations; excluding those in whom the ex-
tremes of climate necessarily induce a depravation
of the form, the model of beauty in the female
face would be equally obtained in these nations as
their appropriate standard. And if from these
several national standards the mean of them
should also be taken, this last image must be
admitted to be as perfect a representative of the
beauty of face, of the whole female race, as is
possible to be obtained.
This judgment is founded on the supposition
that the design of the Creator is eyidenced in his
productions, and. that the mean character of his
productions of any species must approach the
nearest to the perfect model contemplated in the
Creator’s mind, Our sense of beauty; our de-
light therein, can find its object only in the pro-
duction of the Creator, our taste conforms itself
to what is done, and the mean character must be
the highest standard, the utmost conception of
beauty that we can form. Either our ideal
standard or image of beauty is born with us, or
it is thus acquired; the former would be a mere
arbitrary supposition, the latter accords with ex,
perience, is confirmed by reflection on our daily
On the Beautiful in the Grecian Statues. 413
éxperience, it is the necessary consequence of
every moment’s impression from the objects pres
sented to our view; and if our minds were not
insensibly led to this result by being committed
to the field around us, yet, as the means to the
énd, it might in this very way be accomplished
by our deliberate act, by experiments similar to
what I have supposed, in collecting the standard
of national female beauty at the age of twenty
one.
It might be expected therefore, that the standard
6f beauty would be one and the same to all; and
s0 it is, as far as one and the same rule and judg~
ment on any subject can be expected in the vast
range and diversity of human beings. It has
already been observed that the greater is the
variety and number of the objects that have been
viewed, and attentively viewed by any individual,
the nearer will the standard of beauty in his mind
conform to the mean character of the species,
which has been submitted to his view, and
probably therefore to the truth of nature.
To a perfect uniformity in the judgment of
beauty it is requisite that the field of observation
be equal to every one, that the mind of each
observer be equally directed and equally attens
tive to the subject, that the circumstances which
414 Onthe Beautiful inthe Grecian Statues.
are favourable or unfavourable to beauty should
be equal in the objects observed. But this
equality has no existence, and therefore smaller
variations in the estimation of beauty are certainly
found ; but withal, there is so much of con-
sentaneity in the’ opinion of all mankind, as
proves that the standard in every mind is derived
from a common source, and has much of a
common character. I can have no doubt thata
Grecian Beauty among the Greeks, a Circassian
Beauty honoured by the admiration of the Asiatics,
would be acknowledged as a beauty of high dis-
tinction by the western European, and that the
European female whom the European taste has
selected would be in no small degree applauded
by the Greek and Asiatic. Perhaps, even a first
rate African in the estimation of her fellow Afri-
cans would be allowed by the European, the
Greek and Asiatic, excepting colour, to possess
the essential characters of beauty.
It is probable therefore that the idea of beauty,
though acquired by observation only of the ex-
amples presented to-our view, goes beyond the
limit of the materials from which it is derived,
and is more perfect than the mean character of
the cbjects observed. In acquiring the idea of
this mean character we reject all obvious excess
7!
On the Beautiful im the Grecian Statues. 415
or defect; we obtain thereby an abstract idea of ex-
cess or defect; we admit this as stillin some degree
adhering even to the most perfect originals that we
have seen ; we conceive that still more faultless
examples. may be found in the vast field of human
life ; and our imagination creates to itself a more
perfect idea than our experience has presented.
The result of the whole is this, every one has
within him a standard of beauty, and this standard
is acquired by every one from the same source,
and is in all of a common character ; but will be
more perfect, that is, more conformable to the
truth of nature, as the field of observation has
been more varied and extensive, as the attention
has been more excited and directed to the inves-
tigation of beauty, and as the objects of observa-
tion have been in those circumstances, which are
most favourable to the preservation and perfection
of the human form, and wherein the original
stamp and design of nature may be, either not at
ali, or in the least degree, counteracted and in-
jured by adventitious causes,” I pretend not to
judge, whether in this investigation of the standard
of beauty there be any thing of novelty or in-
genuity ; it will be sufficient to my purpose, if it
be agreeable to truth, and be pertinent to the
second object of this essay ; and support the
claim, which I assert for the Greeks, that in their
VOL. V. N
416 Onthe Beautiful in the Grecian Statues,
states are found the most perfect imitations of
the beautiful in the human form, that have been
introduced to our knowledge. If no proper
standard of beauty can be acquired in any other
way ; if the Greeks perfected their conception of
the beautiful by a nice and delicate attention to
this rule ; if they had more favoured originals to
collect from, and had a freer access to these rich
origirials ; if the Greek statuarists were men of
the first consideration, and besides their special
art, had their minds raised and chastened by all
the advantages, which learning, science and cul-
tivated taste can confer ; then it is a well-founded
presumption, that their statues as imitations of
the beautiful, are of the first form, and have pro-
bably not been equalled by the similar produc-
tions of any other nation, if to the statuaries of
no other nation the same means and advantages
have been extended.
’ This standard of beauty thus station: and the
only standard common to all men, may be called
the Sentimental standard; as its primary deriva
tion is from the immediate sense or impression of
the human form upon the mind of the observer,
and its ultimate result is the mean of all the
agreeable sensations which the beautiful of human
form have made upon the mind.
On the Beautiful in the Grecian Staiues. 47
But there is also a Rational standard, which
more contemplative and reflecting-minds derive
from a consideration of the uses to’ which: the
human form subserves. Beauty, though in itself
an object of regard distinct from every other
consideration, must, in the productions of every
wise artist, be subordinate © to utility; and
therefore in those works, which we refer to the
Great Artist, we expect that beauty shall be re-
conciled with utility. Nor are we disappointed ;
all that is beautiful in the human form, which we
contemplate with so much delight, is,as a mean, in
perfect harmony with the numerousand diversified
uses for which the human form was designed ed
its Creator. .
Beauty could not be a primary object in the
mind of the original artist, nor are we autho!
rized perhaps to say that in our sense of beauty
it was any object at all. ‘When this artist designed
man, that must to him have appeared to be the
best form, which was the best fitted to the field
of action in which man was intended to move,
and in which it was intended that he should reap
the conveniences and utilities of his being. If
man had been designed to be an animal of speed,
a form similar to that of: the hare, of the grey-
hound or the antelope might have been asstgned -
to him; or if not precisely a similar form, yet
418 On the Beauteful in the Grecian Statues.
in the limbs adapted to motion, a lightness of
bone, and firmness of muscle similar to what
characterises these animals. And by parity of
reason, the qualities of the ox or elephant, if
slowness of motion united with great capacity of
burthen had been designed to be his predominant
character; or if a temperament of speed with
burthen, then ..a ‘tempered union of the forms
which distinguish the hare and the ox, as in the
horse, might have been the character of the human
form. But as each of these uses ina very limited
degree, and subservient to many other higher uses;
such as quickness of movement towards every
part; the as sublimé to contemplate heaven as
well as earth, and each with the greatest range ;
exquisite sensibility, particularly in the hands,
which are the instruments of mechanic operations ;
and in fine, the unnumbered and varied uses,
which the inventive and creating mind of man
can meditate, were intended to constitute the
character of man, we find therefore that a: form
is assigned to him, which is adapted to all these
uses, and to each in that degree in which it
contributes to the concentered and harmonious
utility of his whole being. But I mention not
this, with any of the views of the naturalist or
divine, but merely to shew that man can in some
degree enter into the mind of his Creator, and,
On the Beautiful in the Grecian Statues. 419
pleased with his form, pronounce also that it is
good; and believe that it is beautiful, because it
is eminently usefal ; and as, without any consi-
deration of utility, he pronounces that to be’
the most beautiful of all the varieties of the human
form, which is the mean of themall, so infer the
same conclusion, when he estimates the mean of
all utilities, regard being had to the respective
worth and dignity of these utilities.
It is therefore more than probable, that whether
we estimate beauty by the mean of utility, or
simply by the mean of form, we shall arrive at
the same, or nearly the same conclusion; we
shall attain the same standard. But the investi-
gation of these utilities in all their comprehension
and reference to their best result is*more difficult,
and except in obvious and familiar instances,
-does not excite attention in common observers.
This common sense of man however in the most
familiar instances is an evidence of vast import,
the mind expects and is reconciled to the more
delicate judgments of more attentive observers ;
and a persuasion is induced, that if man were com-
petent to the complete analysis of himself, he
would find that the mean of his whole form is
admirably adapted to the mean of allhis utilities.
It is surely agreeable that the standard of beauty
derived from two very different sources should
\
420 On the Beautiful in the Grecian Statues,
be found tobe one and the same. In receiving
that as beautiful whichis, we defer to the divine
wisdom; inthe appeal to the reason of man, the
mind and act of, Deity is justified to the mind
of man.
But there is alsova use in referring the judgment
of beauty to these two tests, as they mutually
serve to obviate some difficulties, to reply to
some objections, and to correct some erroneous
judgments to which we might be liable, if we had
only one test to appeal to, The expectation of
the beautiful, according to the sentimental stand-
ard, inall of the human kind, is repelled when
we take into our view the varieties of human life,
and admit that these varieties require a confor-
mation nicely adapted to the usefui in all. Whe-
ther ir be that difference of climate, of situation,
of employment bodily or mental, and of age, in-
duce, as the mere effect of a cause, such smaller
variations of the human form ; or that man gene-
rally issues from the hand of his Maker with such
variations of form as may furnish all the diversified
agents fitted to bear.their several parts in the vast
community of men, makes no difference in the
conclusion.. »Wherever the diversities of the
useful require a deviation from the absolute
standard of sentimental beauty, we submit our
judgment thereto,:and acknowledge a specific
On the Beautiful in the Grecian Statues. 421
beauty; and with delight acknowledge, where
adaptation to strength, to toil, to hardihood, to
boldness, to enterprise, to speed, to versatility or
any other peculiar end, is the predominating
character of the form. In the distribution of
men therefore into classes according to their
situations and subservience in life, the rational
standard admits a beauty, peculiar and appro-
priate to each; which if not found would be
deemed to be a defect, though the degree in
which this specific character is required would
not be admitted either in the rational or senti-
mental standard of the mean perfect beauty
of the whole human kind. Thus a length of
arm, and lightness of leg are well adapted to the
maneuvres of the sailor, but would be unsuited
to the pedestrian, in whom is required a strong
and muscular leg with as little super-incumbent
weight of body as is consistent with general
vigour. And thus in the different occupations
of men, the estimated beauty of form in each
class will be adapted to the part which each has
to sustain in life. A general, when he looks
with pride on the manly figure of his soldiers,
has a different standard of beauty in his eye from
that by which he would judge of the graceful
and elegant in an assembly of the higher ranks
of life, We observe a similar rule in the judg. °
‘
422 On the Beautiful in the Greccan Statues.
ment we form of the different classes of animals.
The beautiful in the lion, the tyger, the elephant,
the bull, the horse, and the dog, is referred to a
different standard in each, and even in those
species, which come more under the observation
and use of man, as they are subdivided into
different kinds, they have each their appropriate
destination and appropriate character, and the
mean form in each subordinate kind is allowed
to be the standard of beauty in that kind, though
varying from the standard of beauty in each
other kind, and varying from the standard of the
beautiful in the whole genus, where an aptitude -
to a particular destination is not contemplated.
The dray, the road, the race, the field of chace
and the field of war have each their proper
beautiful of form, while each partakes of those
qualities, which enter into the mean beautiful of
them all. And the same is observed of the sub-
divisions of the canine race; the shepherd’s dog,
the terrier, the spaniel, the fox-hound, the grey-
hound, the bull-dog and the mastiff, to which we
may add the favioutties of the ladies, are all
estimated by very different standards of beautiful
form, and yet are all referable to a form which is
the mean of them all, and is conceived to be
the most perfect idea of beauty in the genus,
On the Beautiful in the Grecian Statues, 423
This attention’ to the useful, and a fitness for
the part which each is intended to act in the plan
of their Creator, is strikingly witnessed in the idea
which every one entertains of what is beautiful
in the form of each of the two sexes of the human
race. No one conceives the beautiful in the
man to be exactly transferable to the beautiful
in the woman, and if the most perfect beauty of
the female were found in a male, the eye would
be disgusted ; that male would be the object of
scorn or ridicule, not of approbation.
Perhaps the mere abstract idea of beautiful
form, independant of every other consideration,
would pronounce the gentler undulations of the
masculine outline to be more conformed to its
standard, than the richer swell and deeper falls
of the female figure. Yet in despite of this -
abstract judgment, the most perfect masculine
figure, if contemplated in a female, would not
be considered as beautiful.
The same submission to the useful, or to what
we presume to be useful, because it is according
to the order of nature, is observed in the estima-
tion of beauty, as it is referred to the different
periods of human life. There is a different
beauty in infancy, in boy-hood, in youth; in
manhood, and in age. The child in the arms
of the Madonna, and John attracting the notice
of his infant cousin by his playful admiration,
VOLG*, fe)
424 On the Beautiful in the Grecian Statues.
though the difference of their age be but very.
inconsiderable, yet would each, independant of
all regard to the part which each is designed to
sustain in riper years, be expected to exhibit a
difference of form and aspect. In the. full-
blown rose of Lucretia, and the opening bud of
_ Virginia, which equally enflamed the passions
of Tarquin and the Decemvir, and led them to the
perpetration of the most daring and dangerous
crimes, though in each we imagine something that
answers to our perfect idea of female beauty, yet
in each we look for a delicate discrimination of
exterior, something appropriate of form and
feature, expressive of their respective age and
situation.
In the domestic groupe of mother, wife, child-
ren and attendants, which issued from Rome to
avert the vengeance of Coriolanus from his
country; if imagination give a beautiful figure
to each, it will be a beauty proper to the age of
each, and proper also to the relation which each
bears to the avenging hero, and to the shades of
affection and interest with which each must be
“impressed from all the circumstances of the
interview; while in Coriolanus himself, that
which we should acknowledge as beautiful and
proper in his figure would very materially differ
from that of all the preceding.
_ There is therefore indubitably, as is generally
On the Beautiful in the Grecian Statues: 42%
allowed, a peculiar beauty of form and feature
adapted to each of the passions; but here also,
in order ‘to the perfect, the mean must be ob-
served; and this perfect form, as expressive of
the passions, rejects the predominance of any
one feature, which usurps over the others, which
subdues the whole form and countenance to one
characteristic and’ generally disagreeable expres-
sion. This must enter in no small degree into
all our judgment of the human figure; the sense
both of the beautiful-and the proper must asso-
ciate with our conceptions of the mind, which the
configuration of the form in all its parts, and in
all the acting of mind thereon, is fitted to express.
In every human figure, which on any: ‘account
attracts our attention, the immediate impulse is
to read the mind in the face. Animals read it;
itis an universal character, and designed to be
read in some degree by all who have an interest
in its information; for it is the hand-writing of
the Almighty, and inasmuch as mind is superior
to body, that form is pronounced to be more
beautiful, which in every expression presents a
beautiful mind, and at the same time is conformed
to the interesting affections which are proper to
the varied situation and circumstance of mind.
Perfect beauty therefore supposes perfect beauty
of mind, and deformity in both ‘is the violation
of the mean, Perfect mind admits’ of no 'pre-
426 On the Beautiful in the Grecian Statues.
dominant passion but benevolence, but even
benevolence itself would be tame and insipid,
if it excluded every other passion. It would
not be suited to the field of human action and
human sympathy, and could not invite our sym~
pathy in return. The only influence, of passion
that can be delineated with an attention to perfect
beauty is that which admits the expression of
every passion; butof each according toits worth
and dignity, and the power which each inits place
and rank ought to have over the form and coun-
tenance; and that face which bears the expres-,
sion of this temperament and proportion will be,
so far as respects the influence of mind, the most:
beautiful, wovonl
But even in the expression of the passions, the
male and female standard will differ, nor-can
the temperament required in the one, be expected
in the other, That mildness and placidness of
countenance, which is the lovely picture ofa gentle
female mind, would not give the promise of a
masculine mind, nor answer to our standard of
masculine beauty; and though the morality of
mind will not submit her rule to any examples
of human Jife,. and will without hesitation pro-
nounce that countenance and figure to be de-
formed, on which the violent and intemperate
passions have stamped their character; yet in
the imitations of man as he is, the very imitation
On thé Beautiful in the Grecian Statues, 427
will soften the deformity, and render: that not
only acceptable, but approved,'and as a beauty
in the art, which we should fly from with ree
and horror in the real object.
So far then we have proceeded in the examin-
ation of the beautiful, not merely as a prelude to
our deciding on the excellence of the Grecian
Statues, though even as! a prelude ‘this ‘appeared
necessary; for without some: rule founded in
nature,. all decision on the beautiful in the imita~
tive arts of the Greeks, might be considered as
mere opinion. If we have not erred then in this
previous analysis, it has appeared that, in the sub-
ject of the human form, the sentimental and
the rational judgment of beauty are not discord-
ant, but that the beautiful as a matter of feeling
harmonizes with the useful as the end; and as
an influence from. this, that the perfection of
beauty as an absolute standard must be looked.
for in the middle form of the whole. collected
human race, excluding all whom accident, vio-
lence, monstrous births, or the extremes of cli-
mate, food and labour may have disfigured; and
also in the middle form between the extremes
of age, in which the subject has not attained to
or declined from the point of perfection, because
all the varieties of the human form seem to re-
spect this medium both of number and age. It
has also appeared, that in the distribution of
428. Onthe Beautiful in the Grecian Statues.
occupation and character, and in the expression
of the’ passions, that interesting language of the
human form and feature, there are separate stand~
ards, which have each a specific ‘beauty as their
appropriate character, though subordinate to the
more universal standard, and acknowledging it
as their genus. Not greatly deviating fiom this
higher standard, each of these distributions must
be distinguished ‘by their characteristic form, or
ar would not be beautiful in their place.
».,Having therefore to the best of my: sheik laid
this foundation; I shall proceed. mg
II... To enquire whether those statues which
have been preserved to us as monuments. of
Grecian art and taste do correspond, and in what
degtee, to those high conceptions of beauty in
the human form, whith both: from, sentiment and
reason we are led) to.éntertain., )
Appeal then to the sentimental standard, that is,
to thé most abstract idea of simple beauty, with-
out any consideration of utility, or destination to
particular purposes and offices in the distribution
of human action. Submit to the eye the best of the
Grecian Statues of this ; character, submit them
to the severest examination, place them before
the ideal standard in the mind, and say whether
imagination can figure to itself more exquisitely
finished models of perfect human form. Can
the most fastidious critic say that this part is too
On the Beautiful in the Grecian Statues. 429
large, that too small, that the wave of the contour
might be more happily exhibited. That timidity
wherewith nature fears to exceed, when she de-
lights to present to us the perfect of beauty, is
delicately charactered; every thing is in that
happy medium, that mild temperament and pro-
portion which perfect beauty requires; no mus-
cle harshly obtrudes itself to break the charming
roundness of the form; the minutest parts, the
joints, the fingers, the toes, thecvery dimple,
as impressed by the’ playful fingér of love, is
touched in the truth of nature; in fine, the eye
of the delighted spectator may look for hours
and days, and not dare to say, not be inclined
to say, in what respect they could be altered, so
as to be rendered more gratefultohim. The eye
is not satiated with viewing them, they strike not
at first with their full impression, but every re+
turn to them makes a deeper impression, unfolds
new beauties, discovers the grace of nature in her
most finished works, and this perhaps is the most
decisive proof of their superior excellence. If
any thing be wanting, it is colour and the expres-
sion of the eye, but of these stone and marble
are incapable; the artist has done his part, he
has effected a!l that the material was susceptible
of. Perhaps it is owing to this, the impossi-
bility of communicating to stone the soul which :
speaks in the countenance, that the face of the
430 On the Beautiful in the Grecian Statues.
Venus de Medici answers not to our expectation,
that it appears to be not so beautiful as the whole
and every other part of the form. But the
artist has given to the whole attitude the ex-
pression of apprehensive modesty, and of the
will to move, you expect the statue to step from
the pedestal. In the Apollo Belvidere is pre-
sented every thing that elegance and grace with
a chastened severity and dignity can require in
a perfect masculine form, The beauty of An-
tinous, the Catamite of Hadrian, is feminine,
but the form of Apollo is such as mind giving
its character to form and countenance would
prepare you to expect. He is not Jupiter, nor
Mars, nor Bacchus; there is. blended in his
figure the excelience of each, but with no ex-
treme; he is such as you would look for in
the ruler of the day, the president of the muses,
in the handsomest and the wisest of the gods.
This delight, which the Grecian antiques ex-
cite, and as a matter of feeling, without any
philosophical enquiry, has been witnessed by all,
in various ages and nations. The Greeks copied
from nature, her most perfect forms were their
standard ; succeeding artists have received their
productions as a standard, and looked for re-
putation as they approximated to the perfection
of their works. The antient Romans in the
highest pride of their empire deemed nothing
‘On the Beautiful in the Grecian Statues. 494
excellent in the art of statuary but what was of
Greck fabrication. Their admiration knew no
bounds ; and though of the statues preserved to
us, many are of an age’ posterior to the earlier
Ceesars, it is probable that they were all the work~
manship of Grecian genius. The school, ‘de-
nominated the Roman, though the Roman em#
pire had been long extinct, was formed on the
basis of Greek art ; it aspired to no higher honor
than to be the imitator of the antient Greek;
yet inimical as imitation is supposed to be to
great exertion, this school is allowed to have sur-
passed all other moderns in the beauty and
character of its figures. While other subsequent
schools of statuary, which have wrought from
their own ideas, and been laborious enough in
the éxecution, have each exhibited less beauty,
less ‘correctness, less conformity: to what every
one feels to be to x#Aoy in the original. This
‘concurrent testimony may almost be allowed to
be decisive. Among the artists of Italy, and
‘SiC edit gto them; in other countries, there are
WHO appear to “have devoted ‘their whole lives to
the'study ‘of ‘Whatever’ is’ most’ beautiful in nature
Or‘in art; aifa°if their unqualified ‘deference to
the Greek be'not adinitted, I wonder from whom,
With ‘a ‘more 'réfined’ and better futistied mind,
we Mayexpect a juster sentenice!
VOL. Vv. P
432 On the Beautiful in the Grecian Statues.
The artists. of later days ascend no. higher in
the pursuit of the beautiful than the models which
Greece.has transmitted to us. Have any of
them-retraced the steps of the Greek artist in the
formation of one celebrated statue ? Have they
selected from individuals of approved form,
whatever is most beautiful in each, and thus
composed a more perfect whole. Until this be
done, it is mere presumption to suppose that they
will surpass the Greek, that with all the aid of
the antients they will produce a more perfect
model of beauty, that this second extract of the
beautiful would more answer to our most perfect
idea from nature. ,
There is reason to believe that the Grecian
artists did select the most beautiful originals, and
from what appeared to be most perfect in each,
formed their mean. figure of the beautiful. It
was, inasmuch as art.could execute, the summary
of what nature had: dispersed in a variety of the
best chosen subjects. .
It is farther to be observed, and, if true, sary
important to the purpose, that.no. climate, no state
of society, no modes of life and; manners, were
ever more happily adapted to thepreservation. of
beauty, to the, production of the most beautiful
and most perfect designs of nature. A happy
temperament of elements, inviting to enjoy-
ment, and also to exercise, activity and sportive-
On the Beautiful in the Grecian Statues. 433
ness, simplicity of diet and simplicity of mane
Ners, were eminently favourable to the primary
production, and to the preservation of beautiful
form. The concurrence of these advantages is
so powerful as to resist the barbarism and op-
pression of the Turkish government, and even
to this day preserve to the native Greek race their
pre-eminence of beauty.
The Grecian games invited the most perfect of
the species, in varied character and exhibition,
_ with all the advantage of exposure, and with all
the action proper either to strength or grace;
which must have furnished to the Grecian artist
models of perfection in nature, and of the truth
of nature in her best specimens, such as modern
artists can have no access to. Our modern man-
ners admit not of such exhibitions, and if ina
moral view we have gained thereby, the loss to
the imitative arts of sculpture and painting is
incalculable. Nor, if it were ‘otherwise, is it
probable that in our climates and with our modes
of life, any such specimens of the beautiful work-
ing of nature can befurnished- It will be allowed
at least, that the hirelings, which are exhibited in
our modern academies, are no substitute for the
ampler and richer display of form and character,
from which the Grecian sculptor and_ painter
copied their admired productions,
The freedom of the Grecian mind: must also
434 On the Beautiful in the Grecian Statues.
have had a considerable influence on the feature
and form. The influence of the mind»on»the
feature, where the soul speaks in all its energies
and character and dominant affections, is acknow-
tedged by all; but it is not equally considered te
what degree the mind, cherished from infancy in
all that generous freedom, whith is the gift of its
author, may determine the form, and rear itup
in the grace’ and -elegance and: beauty which
answers to the best intention of nature. The
easy, flowing dress of the Greeks corresponded
with this freedom of mind; whatever nature
designed, she freely operated ; no restraint forced
her into awkward, ill-proportioned and ungrace+
ful deviations; and what freedom of mind, ease
of dress, salubrity of climate, and simplicity of
diet and manners, left unfinished, their gymnastic
exercises compleated, In medern Europe every
thing almost is adverse to the production and
-preservation of beautiful form ; mind is not so
pure and unadulterated; modes of life are not so
equal, nor so conformed to simple elegance; the
form of the great mass of the community is as |
much injured by excess of labour, depression of
mind, and exposure to unequal climate, with
scantiness of food, or irregular supplies of it,
and not of a simple and salabrious kind, as the
form of the higher ranks is impaired by excess
of food, equaliy insalubrious; exclusion from air
On the Beautiful in the Grecian Statues. 435
and exercise.;.manners that awake no mental
energies, invite to.,no. pleasant, healthful, spor-
tiveness ; intemperance in the hours of rest; and,
what.alone is sufficient to- every. Aepradahice of
form and beauty, confinement in the, poisoned
vapour of crowded...and heated) rooms. The
inference, is, obvious... The, modern Europeaa
cannot rival the. artist of antient Greece. ~He
has. not the same originals.. Nature presented
herself unviolated to the Greek ; injured and per=
verted, she can exhibit to the E edad only: her
weaker productions.
‘To these considerations may re added, has
j have already alluded,.to, that the Greek artists
were men of the first form, weil educated, and of
high, consideration: , Superior instruction, and
admission to the highest honours, elevate the
mind, excite grander conceptions, and exalt the
taste ; especially in an age and country, where
the passion for fame was the stimulant to all great
exertions, and furnished to every one the most
generous gratification, The philosophic Socrates,
that, wondrous man among the Greeks, was him-
self.a statuary, and is said to have sculptured
three very; beautiful figures of the Graces,
Without intending any thing unhandsome to
latex artists, the same elevation of mind can.
not be equally affirmed of them. The motive
of gain, always sordid and depressing, and
(436 On the Beautiful in the Grecian Statues.
equally accessible to the lowest minds, has
too much usurped over the more generous
one of fame.
I shall conclude this essay, whith perhaps is
already too long, with another very powerful .
argument in favour of Grecian art ; which may
be inferred from the great length of time that
it flourished, and the innumerable productions
which it furnished. This argued a degree of
fame attached to it, and an encouragement to
rivalship, of which we have no example. We
may judge of this from the immense number of
works which escaped the repeated plunder of the
Romans ; and from the valuable remnant, which
to our day has survived the destruction’ of ages,
of successive revolutions, and the rudest barbarism.
Memmius, /Emilius Verres, and Proconsuls,
and Pretors and Generals, and Romans of rank
and taste, beyond all calculable amount, might
have been thought to have exhausted Greece of
her rich treasures of art; but succeeding to them
Tiberius Nero carried off a valuable plunder from
the Acropolis, Delphi and Olympia, and yet in
these very places not fewer than three thousand
statues were remaining in the time of Pliny, Can
any thing in modern times compare to this?
Can modern artists recur to so grand a feast of
the senses, so glorious a school for instruction in
their art? Does the patronage of later times
On the Beautiful in the Grecian Statues. 497
present any thing like such a provocative to
genius and tivalship, as we may presume to
have been the character of Greek and Roman
antiquity ?
A Defence of LEARNING and the ARTS,
against some Charges of Rousszav. In-two
Essays. By the Rev. G. Waker, F. Raa
ESSAY, I.
(READ Nov. 15, 1799.)
That learning is not the parent of politeness, nor
chargeable with the duplicity fraud and vice, which
he supposes to be Mer attendants.
I: isa failing, and not of common minds alone,
who surrender themselves to the impression of
the moment, but also of men, from whom a more
just appreciation of the past and the present
might be expected, to indulge to a spirit of discon-
tent whenever they speak of their own times;
and with a kind of holy veneration to fix their
eye on those days of old, wherein, as they sup_
pose, ingenuous virtue and sincere enjoyment
were alone tobe found. This failing, for a fail-
ing assuredly it is, has its origin in human nature,
and even in the best dispositions of human na-
ture. Candour forgets the bad, but piously
remembers the good, of what is gone. The
failings of the dead are buried with them, while |
On Learning and the Arts, 439
their virtues, whatever was attractive and enga-
ing, are rescued from the grave; and acquire
new splendour by being separated from every
thing that offends. ‘But, while offence lives, it
arrests our principal attention; it irritates our
tempers; it crosses our pursuits ; it provokes
our moral indignation; and therefore the vice
of the day is the subject of everlasting complaint.
But in all this ‘proceeding ineithér:ttuth nor
justice is observed, and’ without ill-intentions
we often defeat every good purpose. The good
and the bad.of every day:ought tobe fairly stated,,
and neither candour nor’ prejudice ought tojbe
heard at the bar-of impartial justice. By ex~
aggerated ‘praise or exaggerated blame we give'a
sanction to folly, to error and vice, while we
throw discouragement on the ingenvous, pursuit.
of wisdom, truth and virtue.. t byes
In Rousseau we find a striking example.of in-
temperate censure and intemperate praise... The
preference’ of the past to the present, )of bar-
barity to refinement, of ignorance to knowledge,
is his favourite theme: it directly or obliquely
insinuates itself into all his writings. . Barbarity
with him is simplicity; it is nature in her pure
ingenuous walk; while refinement;. taste and
elegance are only the gilding of duplicity, fraud
and vice. To know more than simple nature
obtrudes upon us, is only to know the instruments
VOL V. Q
440 On Learning and the Arts.
of mischief; it is to awake a temptation, and
capacitate man to be the enemy of himself and
his fellow man. With a splenetic turn of mind
hie finds’ more to offend than please in the whole
view around’ him; "with a passion for fame he
courts reputation. by the singularity of his doc-
trine, by the boldest contradiction to*the com-
mon sense of mankind’; and with abilities won-
derfully:fitted to give a-grace and a charm even
to the°grossest absurdities, he ventures on an
open hostility. to every thing which man conceives
to be his highest ornament and praise.
- Pohave‘observed that:this humour of deprecia-
ting the présent state of man, and overrating that
of the past, tinctures most of the writings of
Rousseati ; but it is the:professed object of the
celebrated essay to which the academy of Dijon
adjudged the prize. He maintains that the pro-
gress ‘of. ‘society ahd its boasted improvements
have beetionly to make’ man progressively ac-
quainted . with ‘misery.’ He ‘charges, this crime
patticularly on the sciences and the arts. » “ An-
tient days, le says, were more virtuous than our
own, and the degeneracy of our own days owes
its' origin to our knowledge.” In fine, know-
ledge or sciénce appears to him to be Pandora’s
box, replete with every evil. A poor prisoner
in a house of lunatics, being asked the cause
of his'confinement, replied, that he thought the |
On Learning and the Arts. 44L
whole world to be mad, while the world thought
him to be mad, but unhappily the world cut-
voted him. Roussseau must have thought, if he
thought as he wrote, that a mania had possessed
man from a very early period, and that in his
day this mania had risen to its greatest height.
It was well that the question did not come to
issue between him and the world, for the world
would assuredly have out-voted him, Rousseau
is however entitled to a philosophic and argu-
mentative reply.
In the first part of that discourse Rousseau
objects to knowledge, that it is the parent of that
external civility and politeness, by which the
foundation of candor and plain dealing are un-
dermined, and fellow-intercourse becomes con-
Strained and disguised. Before art, says he, had
fashioned our manners, imposed concealment on
our passions, and taught us to speak a borrowed
language, our behaviour though rustic, was
natural, He admits that human nature, at the
‘bottom, might not perhaps be better ; but he as-
serts, that men derived security from being able to
read each other’s thoughts, and that this advan-
tage, of which we now know not the value,
preserved them from many vices. To this part
of his charge the present essay is confined.
“In answer to this charge it is asserted, that
external civility and politeness are not the off-
442 On Learning and the Arts.
spring of learning or knowledge, but claim otlier
parents; that disguise, borrowed looks and lan=
guage, and false exhibitions of the heart are not
peculiar to any periodor state of man; that sincerity
and honesty are not irreconcileable with politeness;
and that whatever of evil can be charged to the
account of politeness, is amply compensated by
the real good which it produces.
Politeness may certainly associate with learn-
ing, and may be separate from it; but ther first
origin is in the good-will and sympathy of man,
in the desire of being agreeable in the form as
well as in the substance of our fellow-intercourse.
This is so obvious, that it is impossible to
discover any special connection of cause and
effect between a learned mind, and a polite mind.
A learned man, without a kind and sympathetic
heart, without a desire to please, may be as blunt
a rustic as) Rousseau can contemplate in his
golden age of simplicity. Learning is very far
from being the character of the polite world, and
politeness in a still less degree is the character of
the learned world. Fhe weakest persons, to
whom literature has not opened her very door,
may lead in the dance of fashionable politeness.
They are perfectly innocent, poor creatures! of
the horrid crime of learning; but they are the
arraigned before Rousseau’s tribunal, they are
the convicts of unmeaning profession, of prosti-
On Learning and the Arts. 443
tuted language, and of all the idle waste of words.
Observe the learned man! He may possibly be
polite ; he may be courteous in his address, in
his speech, in all his manners; but he has not
learnt this from his books; he has acquired it
from an habitual commerce with the dressed and
fashionable world. Such a union of attainments
is however a rare spectacle; for, learning abstracted
from other circumstances has a contrary tendency,
and the world is so persuaded of this, that it
expresses something like astonishment, if in the
acknowledged scholar or philosopher ,it find
the polite man, The love of retirement and
even of solitude, as conducive to the pursuits
of learned men; the little attraction which they
feel for the lighter amusements of life, the straws
in their estimation which float upon its surface;
the little attention which they have bestowed in -
order to acquit themselves with propriety and
grace; the disgust which is excited in them by
the trifling conversation and important nothings
of men of the world, render what is called good
company as unfit for a_ philosopher asa philoso-
pher is for good company. Whata figure does
he often exhibit in a gay and brilliant circle,
with his solemn air, his stiffened attitudes, his
unmanaged limbs, his absorbed mind, his inat-
tentions, his constrained recollections, his studied
expressions, his deep and sensatious discourse!
444 On Learning and the Aris.
He is an object of ridicule to the circle around
him; but he knows to estimate himself, and he
returns the contempt with which he is received.
He feels that he is net on his proper ground ;
no common sympathy attaches him to his .com-
pany, nor his company to him; each are under
restraint, but a modesty yet unsubdued in him
subjects him to truly painful feelings, while a
happy confidence which the polish of the world
often confers, administers to the company the
enjoyment of a secret triumph. He retires from
the scene without regret, and his absence excites
no regret in those whom he has quitted.
re ie mae
a
“oe | hoe
gOe
e of judging ‘cause an Fo tele »
= qemcnonion e invariably foun
€ co-€XIs nt, and »here
‘
‘the a. “¥, 4
ne
é
of the one. oe tly atter ded” ith the dis-
| ‘
"with the A, il nce” 1€ r - , and so ~ D
‘ ooh aid tk wee’
- uniformly in every inst ce; we r : safely ie
tates conclude that there is ascontection of cause and
effect between these. phenémena, But this rule :
. of jndaig is only meant t be applied, a
the a erandi and t odus oper re
‘conceal rom our view. Now no. can
pretend, il plearning xg erate Juxury, - the Pie
very act e whole operation, be cons
‘cealed from ‘Our observation asi in Mics oh of. ae
| » natural causes. It is incumbent therefore on .
‘any one, who criminates learning as the operating _ ‘
catise of | ury, to state in’ clear terms and,"
agreeably to obvious expel e, the will, the 6;
act, and the his ry. in the rede of luxury
» by learning. Rousseau has failed to do, ;
. and this every one will fail to do, who shall, be om
(hardy enough to make the attempt.
But admitting that the rule of Sir Isaac New-
ton is equally a licable to “the discovery of 24
moral as of natural causes, which perhaps itis, _ ff
i a *» a ‘ aad a we
. ‘er ‘ "
* ve,
and tears. F 65”
ite eon be unneces ys ye Rouse
eau would derive no advantage fr ;
‘cession, -for his conclusion would fail if Mets 3
. ay the es rich the ne mind of this
; ected his rule.
The-gi ty are not
age a vi nl usly united,
is the diss arance of learning always Lipa,
3 by'the »d peal OF duxury — Let the court
> "of “Caligulay: of © sage eliogabulus, the »
Asiati rchie many other striking
ha modern history make the
ply ?,The- trath ji is, there. is, nothing i in the
ci of learning, which ‘inclines her to
and averse to’ it. The Antonines’ “were learned
~ "princes, particularly’ Aurelius, and they were
” eo inent for temperance and moderation,
for sober and chaste manners. A learned man
ay indeed, be: luxurious, but instances of this
2 See character are singular; 3 for learning does
. not smi pon lus ury, nor is ray propitious
£0 learning. des re
Luxury is a general term, avid answers to very
different standards in different minds, and in.
different circumstances. What a cynic would —
eall luxury, a more correct judge of manners
would denominate taste and elegance, But it is
to the praise of learning that taste and elegance
Phy
ue
cu
t there is much that is unfavourable ;
1 Sa
s
4°
We
Fa vicki in the
ast | ee that he has embelished™
creation wi such, a Pokuishe? bee be
m0 aici ‘and exhibited o us th
Yhodels, which accor ietia
a man.— e Genev i
Juxtry and corr bt mann ;
rie ant with a more. disceri
: would
: mits, in rude
: nf ' d the
with al ormor defor- *
t iy ic > ie ns -
of a Kamschadale | or a - von 2 a wh :
a‘bear or an. otter, is m3 and proper, axury, +
and marked: “with as intempe tev indulgeneey, as
| the rich and varied board of Lucull ot
cius. The initidis 0 same character in, both ; Fl
they differ only if e ternal circumstances, ahd
condition being changed, but ‘the mind unaltered,
Apicius would have been the a The ©
corrupt manners of the Otaheita ot bee
surpassed, nor perhaps equalled , by mS of gh
learned nations, to whom cba unfii het ye of
Rousseau is directed. Minds ‘more su mdered
to effeminate luxurious — ease ‘and veverys Just %
:* %
have not been exhibited in the page of historyg
and yet these are an unlettered people, and strane
gers to the arts, which have vitiated modern ‘Eu~ %
rope. They know not this wicked thing, called | a
learning, which hs brought in luxury and all
#
i ai , On Learn thet Av it: “467
‘prostitute man dik a | flood» upon wus; ade
those arts, “ shave been. the’ a aa pf this ” aie
c
a "Gan and ption,
ousseau seems t feel thesdifficulty.o of fixing m
Scimene ately upon Ik rning. the crime of luxury fen
4 are. 1
wrrapt attenc ants; but he is more at home ©.
# whed he refers them directly to the arts, whi richvhe ‘= ’
: ose: Aa” the offspring of learning. Rete os
Pins in ti first hasty) view of ad
connection between un i
een ae arts and learn= _
ing.» Butt ea, view of a eritcts ua ok aisle
in the , ieee instance, the. fies inaccuracy, the
' Is! + sameconfused esa the same unfounded
_presumptions, the same gal conclusion. 8 8
% ; _* That Jaixury ‘an corrupt: manners, may
‘existywithout the arts has already appeared'from - «
=. what has’ oo in some of thewrudest and
Most | uncivilized. nations, to whom may bey added * —
7%, Turks and the Moguls, examples of notoriety
and magnitude, who from the commencément of
ie». “their empires to the present day have been singu-.
on hostile to science and the arts, but not me
ile to luxury and e corrupt mannersywhich are
ustly supposed to bein her train. A mation igno~
rant of and unexperienced in the 7
8
: will and
must, in proportion a as it isepossess ed means,
be Ramusnious Ana ae Indo se finds
: Ys »*“
*. » % hd ‘ ” f
lusts, to wh ‘In such a state he is so p eg .% f
» which i in suc state are almot nc to’sups
&
%&
°
| 468 On Learningand the therArtss * ; P «
the mind vacant to laxury,and lust; this is i
the constitution of human nature, nd is een a
in the constant history of nationaliand anes "
man. A field of active exeption is therefore p "
- vided for man as his refuge ; it, a better” '
direction to his mind ; it arouses hi ‘from that »
listless repose, in which he has nothing tovbrood od wf
upon but the indulgence of his Te a » *
port the burthenof existence. Hunting and war
alone can rouse the savage to action, and poe
is more temperate and abstemious than the phi
sopher or the hermit. The inexhausted allure- fh
ments of scientific pursuit or the activity of the .
arts provide a more constant and salutary refuge
to a civilized and wealthy nation a sae!
devouring passions and lusts, .
Science ‘and the arts are therefore ue prow
~ perly the moral friend and guardian of man ; they
may minister ‘to some of the productions whith a
_Tuxurious and corrupt mind seizes upon, but they
are innocent of the misuse, they neither suggest 4
nor favour the misuse. The earth itself produces :
avery considerable part of the food of laxurys
Is the earth to be accused as the criminahminister
of luxury 2» The earth and science and the arts
are all liberal in their gifts to man ; these gifts
are in tages directed to utility and to
: . a
. % - . ra e
VW %
“se
~ Y .
y b ‘ ms
Bs ae ae
part cee? bering nd. the Art. 469
g Re lessing 5 they are ii the Feaéh of ze virtuous
| and. the vicious; virtue enjoys them in their
% _ proper “charactet ; vice Converts them into a
Fim cutse. go maintain the theory. ‘of Rousseau,
i - - the earth and. science’ and. the atts should be
being vicious. The, €a th and the arts resemble
in oe, directing n
produce,
— nt
es . use, excess, intemperance, “Taxury, or licen~
ous, corrupt and, pro fe manners, — 4
fs. connection between the ox luxury or vice.
ec “» The productions of the arts aré illustrious
: & monuments, of human ingenuity, andyin no small
£ degree imitative of the superior productions of
the great Artists they are in their nature innocent
a ofall criminal construction and temgency ; ; they
| are‘much more applicable to. virtue and to hap-
x os than to viee.and misery ; luxury and core
re .
tion may exist without them, and therefore it
to other parents and to other caus that we
must refer their existence and progress. ©
uxury do eh i a herself from the arts,
% - of: Le
n 7
_. more sparing in their gifts, and “all the virtue
a # which his bgbeory aspires to is the impossibility of
;
ia each ng in the variety»and richness of their ©
oH
swering for
ich their productions shall be ap= __
os pa pte science are. annexed mind and — Vv
and to the deliberate mind) and will ‘of .
* % Fad ‘séience cannot be charged one approbation. of
; There is therefore. no. natural, “no necessary a
«%
y
and Seats re arts do n "Be
derive ¢ the es from learning a
‘and in their progress derive a very inconsic
' able "part gehey we improvement the te
470 : - tip} and t Avis.
however ste rts ‘may be Hiolently forced in int:
her ‘servi ce ade acquitted of» the ‘Ghar ey
though t evarts sho dt be"allowed to be the pros
“geny of learning. at Fot: learning) no more than
God, is’ to be ihterdicted and’ accused in her
“most -fionouttable walk, ‘of contributing to the
-ornament, ‘utility and happiness of man, Because
vice pay eeice upon’ and misuse h her’ gifts, But
~ the argument of Rousseau iggven'r more’ found.
arning *-
fatal
ed in the. sed connection mene
s i
“ from. ~~ ae bad 4
The ele sitet the arts, and many of the m ;
vatuatsle, discoveries on which the practice of the. a
arts ‘depends, are derived from unlearried es or Pe
are traced. up to unlearned and, what at this d
we call, barbatous periods. Who éaniname the
learned days. i in which! the lever, ‘the. moveable © ,
pully, the wheel, the inclined plane, and | thescrew
have been’: troduced to the knowledge to
the use’o men ? The arch, ‘the pillar, the roof,
and much ‘pérbiaps of the stibility, proportion
and ornament-of architecture, are probably ‘in
debted for their fitet conception to unlearned >
and unscientific men. _ The Greeks do not ap-
pear to have considered the Persians as a lettered. ©
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On Learning and the Arts. 471
and scientific vison, and. though the vanity of
_ the Greeks may render them very justly suspected
in their estimate of foreign merit, yet it is pro-
bable that in this instance they erred not much
from the truth. But the ruins of Persepolis present
‘the idea of a structure, which might have rival-
ed the proudest monument of Grecian architec-
ture. "They are at this day the admiration of
Europ artists, to whose judgments and taste
the hi e: defference is paid. To rude an-
‘cestors we owe the first idea of a ship, and no
inconsiderable progress to that “complex and won-
ul state in which it now exists. To the
“Greeks and Romans in their more rude and un-
learned state we are indebted, if a debt it may
. 1 nl deemed, for the discipline, the order, the com-
Binations, the evolutions and the general tactics
of war; nor, unless perhaps i in the application of
gunpowder has all the science and ingenuity of
Aig moderns much surpassed them | in this dan-
gerous arts The practlfe:9 oF astronomy, though
without a sufficient knowledge of its theory, yet
founded on principles derived from an obser=
vance of the motian of the planetary bodies, is
of very remote antiquity, and. has been applied
th considerable accuracy by nations of no
tc character, and but in a moderate de-
“‘gree) removed from | barbarism. If a simple -
elementary language, wherein from a-few cha-
WOLe Vi we
472 On Learning and the Arts.
tacters infinite combinations are formed, be 4
necessary instrument to the progress of science,
the Chinese can have no pietensions to the
character of a learned nation, although for no
other reasons this attribute should be refused to
them. For as language is the vehicle of ideas,
how slow must be the progress of literary im-
provement, where only to know the language
itself requires the application of a whole life.
Yet onthe first visit of the Europeans the Chinese
were found to be possessed of the elements of
almost all the arts, those very elements, which
under the culture of the more ardent European
have so exalted him amongst men. The same
may be observed of the Mexicans and Peruvians,
who had no form of written language whatever.
The date of their empires was indeed compa-
ratively of yesterday, but at the period of their
highest improvement they could support no
claim to the character of learned nations. Yet
many of their productions of art, magnificence
and taste were objects of admiration to the more
improved European. The practical principles
of chemistry have been known, and successively
acted on, by many of the rudest and most ig-
norant nations of the earth, and the communica-
tion of some of their processes would be a valuable
acquisition to the European artist of the present
day. Indeed without disparagement to the present
On Learning and the Arts. 473
state of scientific improvement it must be ac-
knowledged that the valuable arts of mechanics
and chemistry have been indebted for discoveries
of high estimation to rude and unlettered prac-
titioners, who had eluded all the penetration of
the theoretic artist. The fact appears to be, that
mere accidental observation, excited by the con-
tinually working hand of nature, and agreeably to
those eternal laws which govern her operations,
has revealed to man, in every state and condition,
the fundamental principles of all the arts; that
they are thus brought home to his very feeling,
and that, the discovery being made, the neces-
sities and interests of man seize the discovery,
and apply it to his use. Man, in a state of liter.
ary culture, digests these experimental discoveries,
compares them, reasons upon them, and reduces
them into an orderly and harmonious system,
which is without doubt of great assistance, in
applying the practice of the arts to progressive
improvement and utility. Sensible of this truth,
the ingenious theorist will acknowledge that the
arts, in the whole extent of their subservience to
the use of man, have derived their richest treasures
from the discoveries and operations of rude and
unlearned men.
Rousseau therefore fails in every view in which
it can be attempted to fix the odium of luxury |
and its concomitant vices upon learning. There
474 On Learning and the Aris.
is NO necessary connection between the arts and
luxury, and the arts, in what degree they may be
required to minister to luxury, ask little, very
little, aid from learning.
Perhaps Rousseau had no view to honest truth
in this celebrated essay, but by a bold singularity
to raise himself into general notice. Had truth
been his object, he could not have avoided to
observe, what must strike the common mind, that
the appetites and tastes of men are the parents
of Juxury, and that wealth, ora supply of what
wealth purchases, is the nurse of luxury. Where-
ever or whenever these two are found to be co-
existent, luxury in a greater or less degree will
be found to exist also. These may be co-existent,
and to any extent, and have os existed, without
any thing of what answers to the scientific arts of
modern Europe, —
475
OzsservATions on the Nervous Sys-
TEMS Of “DIFFERENT ANIMALS; on
Oricinau Derecrs in the Nervous
System of the HumAN Specizs and
their INFLUENCE on SENSATION and
_ VoLuntrary Motion.
BY JOHN HULL, M.D,
READ NOVEMBER 28th, 1800.*
“ Le mécanisme des sensations, le Tapport des nerfs avec le sujet
senti 4 la surface du corps & avec le centre, ou se réunit le senti-
ment, sont aussi obscurs, qu’ ils l’ ont toujours été, malgré tous les
faits, qu’ ona recueillis depuis plusieurs siecles,’? Fourcroy Syst,
des Conn. Chim, T, 1X. p. 348;
I, another publication I have enumerated some
of the most remarkable deviations from the natural
form, that have been observed in human fetuses
on the side of excess, both in the number and.
proportion of their parts. Astonishing as these
may appear, the deviations on the side of defect
are not less so and the latter are perhaps more
particularly interesting to the anatomist and phy-
siologist, as serving to point out the compara-
tive necessity of the different parts, concerned
in the performance of the various functions of
* ‘Some additions have been made to this paper, since
it was read to the society,
476 On the Nervous Systems of
the animal economy. Numerous instances might
be adduced, wherein one, or more of the most
important organs of the human body have been
found wanting in the fetal state. But, passing
over the defects, which occasionally take place
-in the organs of respiration, circulation, diges-
tion, generation, &c, I shall in this paper con-
fine myself to the consideration of the defects,
observable in the nervous system of man, and
their influence on the important faculties of
sensation and voluntary motion ; premising some
general observations on the diversity of parts,
structure, substance, texture, proportion, laws,
&c, of the nervous system of man and the inferior
animals in their natural, or perfect state,
§ 1.
On the Nervous System in the different classes of
Animals.
By acelebrated modern writer on Comparative
Anatomy, M. Cuvier, animals are referred to
two grand divisions: The first comprehending
all those, which havea dorsal spine, or vertebre:
The second comprehending all those, which are
destitute of vertebre.
To the former division are referred the first
four Linnean classes of animals, namely, Mam-
malia, Aves, Amphibia, and Pisces. To the latter
belong the two remaining classes of Jnsecta and
Different Animals, €&e. 477
Vermes. As there is a general resemblance in
the nervous systems of the animals, referred to
each of these great divisions, particularly the
former, I find it convenient to adopt them here.
1. The nervous system of man and other
animals, included in the first division, is more
extensive and complicated than in insects and
worms. Viewed with respect to its situation,
it consists of three primary parts, namely, the
Encephalon, Spinal Marrow and Nerves. The two
former have been considered as constituting the
common trunk, the Jast as the branches of the
system.
The ENCEPHAEON, which is so named from
being seated in the head, is subdivided by an-
atomists into three principal parts, the cerebrum,
or brain strictly so-called, the cerebellum and
medulla oblongata: But for brevity and to avoid
the unnecessary use of technical terms I shall,
in general, speak of these three parts collectively
under the title of drain, taking care to guard
against ambiguity, when- it becomes necessary
to mention any of the three parts distinctly from
the others. It may not be improper to state
here, that in those animals, which have no skull,
and therefore, strictly speaking, no encephalon,
that portion of the nervous system, which is the
most bulky and occupies the highest, or fore-
most place, will be named brain, since this
478 = On the Nervcus Systeins-of
term is adopted by writers on comparative arta
atomy.
The spinat MARRow is so tamed from its
occupying the canal, formed by the vertebra,
or bones of the spine, and is generally con-
sidered as a continuation, or production of the
brain.*—In animals, which have no vertebra,
that part of the nervous system, which is con-
tinued from the brain and is connected with the
nerves, is also named spinal marrow, though not
very properly.
The nerves are cordlike bodies, rising in
pairs from the brain and spinal marrow and
ramifying in order to be distributed to the dif
ferent parts, that are influenced by them.—That
# By somie writers the spinal marrow is considered a¢
the largest nerve of the body, but improperly according to
Soemmerring: “Nota enimejusab omnium nervorumnotis
sunt diverse, cerebri vero notis respondent.Etenim 1. Non
ca est medullé spinz structura filata, qua omnibus qui- |
dem nervis, 2. Molliof est nervo. 3. Intrinsecus, ut aliz
guedam cerebri partes, portionem cineream continet.
4. Eodem modo ex ea nervi oriuntur, ut v- g. ex cerebro
tertius & sextus nervus, nequaquam vero ea ratione,
qua nervi ex truncis, qui dividuntur, vel ex gangliis
oriuntur. §. Bestiis maxima pars est massa cerebri,
6, Homini,ratione cerebri habita, minor est, quam ulli alii
animali. 7, Stimuli metallorum per spinz medullam
spasmos non excitant, ut per nervos.” DeCorp, Hum,
Fab, T. 1V, p. 81.
Different Animals, €¢. 479
éxtremity of a nerve, which is attached to the
brain, or spinal marrow, is usually named its
origin® ; whilst that, which is distributed to
the-organs of sense, muscles ‘&c, &c, is named
simply its termination and by some writers its
sentient extremity, when so disposed as to re-
ceive impressions from external bodies, Of the:
ganglions and plexuses of nerves it is not neces-
sary to take notice in this place.
The nervous system is composed of two prin-
cipal swhstances,t named the cineritious, or cor-
tical, and medullary; which differ considerably
from each other in their colour, consistence, and
other properties: The former being of a red-
ish ash colour, semitransparent, softer, without
distinct fibres, and possessing little, if any, sen-
sibility: The latter being white or yellowish,
opake, firmer, consisting .of very fine fibres vari-
ously disposed and evidently possessing sensi-
* Dr. Monro thinks this extremity is improperly so
named and assigns a good reason, which will be noticed
hereafter.
_ + Besides these, there are two other substances noticed »
by anatomists, namely, 1. The portio intermedia, which is
whitish or yellowish, and is found in the cineritious
substance of the posterior lobes of the cerebrum, 2. The
portio nigra,which is found in the crura of the cerebrum.
These substances are only found in the brain and are
inconsiderable, Sce Soemmerring, T. IV. p. 47»
VOlsave™ x
480 - On the Nervous Systems of
bility. Both these substances are, very evident
in the brain and spinal marrow: But the cine-
ritious matter is not so easily observed in the
nerves, being in a very small proportion to the
medullary. Dr: Monro, however, informs us,
that he has by an attentive examination found
it in most of the nerves.t The relative posi-
tion of the cineritious and medullary substances
differs in different parts of the nervous system.
The conszstence of the brain is softer in cold~
blooded animals and in some fishes is almost
fluid. .
+ * Although the nerves have been universally con-
sidered as a continuation of the pure medullary substance of
the brain and cerebellum; yet I find, on accurately ex-
amining them, that with a few exceptions, particularly of
the optic nerves and portio mollis of the auditory, they
are all of a browner colour than the medullary substance,
their pia mater. seeming to furnish a quantity of cine-
ritious matter.”’—* The optic nerves and portio mollis of
the auditory seem, indeed from their bright white colour,
to receive from their pia mater little or no cineritious mat-
ter in their progress to the eye and ear: but, as soon as
they enter these organs to form the retina and to be
spread out on the membrane of the cochlea and semi-
circular canals, instead of . remaining white and opake,
they become cineritious. The cause of which is, that,
contrary to what has been alleged by all authors, they
carry with them their pia mater, and from that mem-
brane every fibre of the nerve receives Cineritious mat-
ter.’ Observations on the Structure, Gc. of the Nervous
System, p. 32-
Different Animals, ce. 481
The structure of the nerves and spinal marrow
is very simple, compared with that of the brain.
The last possesses a complicated and beautiful
Organization, which we shall perhaps never un-
derstand. In viewing the structure of the heart,
we easily comprehend, in what manner each of
its parts contributes to the peculiar function of
this organ, the circulation of the blood: But
we do not perceive how any one of the cavities,
processes, dec, &c, of the brain contributes to
sensation, volition, or the intellectual functions.
Tt will not therefore be necessary for my present
purpose to enter particularly into the consider-
ation of the structure of the brain in man and
still less so in the other animals, referred to this
division. It may be proper, however, just to
remark, that in each of the higher classes of
animals, the brain has its peculiar characters,
arising from the presence, or absence of certain
parts, or-from the position’ &c°of these, and
that M, Cuvier has specified these peculiarities.*
The spinal marrow and fierves are of a fibrous
structure, and the fibres of the latter, except at
their remote extremities, are included in both
a proper and a common coat, or sheath.
The proportion of the brain, compared with’
the rest of the nervous system, varies in different
* Anatomie Comparée. T, Il. p. 172175,
482 On the Nervous Systems. of
animals, In the higher orders, the brain is larger
in proportion to) the spinal marrow, and the
spinal marrow is also larger in proportion to the
nerves connected with it... The human brain is
by. mich the largest in proportion to the rest of
the nervous ‘system: Itcommonly weighs from
two» to three pounds, ‘or }upwards; but very
‘rarely reaches four pounds. In other. warm-
blooded animals the brain diminishes #@m volume,
in proportion as the spinal. marrow enlarges,
and in some fishes the bulk of the two other
parts of the brain scarcely surpasses that of the
médulla oblongata, and this scarcely exceeds the
spinal marrow. The intellectual powers of ani=
mals.seém to correspond in’ extent with the pro-
portion of the brain to the test .of the nervous.
system, and: thé: perfection of its organization;
Whilst. the acuteness of sensation and the force
and) rapidity of voluntary motion appear to de-.
pend upon the proportion of nerve, distributed.
to the organs of sense and voluntary motion
rather than on the proportion of brain. All
animals, which are as large as man, have larger
nerves,.and greater strength. The smaller ani-
mals have much larger nerves in proportion to
their limbs, . Fishes, which have very small
brains, have very acute feeling and move with
great rapidity and force. _ Many animals have
more acute senses and greater. powers of motion
SO i a OE Page fel a LT"
7 at wy
Different Animals, Sec. 483
than man; although all are infinitely inferior to
him in intellectual powers.
All the animals, which have vertebre, have
the same number of senses as man. ° ;
2. The animals, which are destitute of}ver-
tebra, when viewed-with respect to their ner-
vous systems, may be properly subdivided into
three orders. :
The first comprehending the ‘insects and
some worms; which have a brain, spinal mar-
row, and nerves, or three parts corresponding to
these at Jeast. The drain in. these animals: ‘is
placed above the alimentary canal and sends off
~ two branches, or legs, which inclose the cesopha-
gus hke a collar.—The continuation of this, or
the spinal marrow, 1s situated under’ the alimen-
tary canal and contained in the same cavity with’
the other viscera, It is double, the two legs
remaining distinct: throughout a great’ part of
_ their length and being only united, at different
points, by means of the knots or protuberances,
from whence the nerves arise, and which are
nearly as large as the brain. Mr. Cuvier observes,
that “the gieat sympathetic nerve, which is
constantly found in all animals with red blood,
does not exist in any white-blooded animal,
unless we consider as such the two nervous
threads, which unite all the ganglions and which °
are named moelle épuniere in the crustaceous ani-
484 On the Nervous Systems of
mals, insects and worms: In which case these,
animals would have no spinal marrow, and the
absence. of this medullary production would: be
the common character of all the animals with
white blood.’’*
The second includes some Mollusca, which have
a brain and nerves passing off. from it in @
radiated manner, but no elongation of the brainy
analogous to the spinal marrow.of the fortner
order. There are however scattered ganglions,
almost as large as the brain itself,t in various
parts of the body.
The third comprehends those animals, which:
are of a gelatinous texture and have no evident
nervous system as many Zoophytes, or Polypes.
In these nothing corresponding. to brain, spinab
Marrow, or nerves, can be discovered; nor cam
vessels or muscular fibres even be detected. t
Thus we find, as we descend in the scale of
animal creation, the common trunk of the ner~
vous system gradually lessening and the medullary
* Anatomie Comparée T. II. p. 124.
+ Ibid. p. 9. ’
+ “ La faculté de sentir & celle de se contracter, qui
dans la plupart des animaux sont exclusivement propres,
Yune 4 la substance nerveuse & |’ autre a la fibre charnue,
paroissent étre également répandues dans toutes les parties
de certains animaux gélatineux, dans lesquels on n’ ap-
percoit ni fibres ni nerfs.” Cuvier Anat. Comp, T. I, pr 27«
Different Animals, Gc. 485
substance less and less concentrated, till it be-
comes at length imperceptible and equally dis-
tributed amongst all the parts of the most simple
animals.
The number of senses in this division is less
than in the animals, that have vertebre. Sight
is wanting in some of them; hearing in a greater
number: But the remaining senses, especially
feeling, appear to be never wanting.t Have
these animals any sense, which is not possessed
by those of the former division ? Some inge-
nious physiologists think this probable.
I shall in the next place mention a few of the
pheenomena, or, as they are usually termed, Jaws
of the nervous system, relative to sensation and
voluntary motion in different animals.
1. a. In man and other animals, belonging to
the higher classes, when naturally formed, no
sensation is excited by an impression, made upon
any part of the body, if the nerves, distributed
to that particular part, be divided, tied, or ~
so strong y compressed in any part of their course
as to destroy the communication betwixt it and
the brain, or spinal marrow. Henceit is proved,
that neither the termination of the nerve, nor
any part of it below its connection with the
brain, or spinal marrow, is the seat of sensation. ,
+ Cuvier Anat, Comp. T. I. p. 37.
486 On the Nervous Systems of
b. Neither is sensation cxcited by an impression
made upon a part, the nerves of which are con
nected with the spinal marrow, if the -spinak
marrow be divided, or strongly compressed,
above the point, where these nerves are joined
to it. Hence it is equally proved, that the
spinal marrow below its junction with the brain
is not the seat of sensation.
c. If the whole of the nerves of a limb, or any
part, be divided, or so strongly compressed, as
to intercept all communication betwixt the limb
or part, and the brain, no motion can be excited in
the former by volition: Consequently the power
of beginning voluntary motion is not in the nerves.
d. If the spinal marrow be divided, or strongly
compressed, in the neck or any lower point, none
of the parts, supplied with nerves from the spinal
marrow below the injured part, can be excited to
action by the will. Hence it is proved, that the
power of beginning voluntary motion is not resi-
dent in the spinal marrow.
e. When the spinal marrow is injured in the
manner just mentioned,, the mental faculties are
not necessarily impaired, and. sensation may be
excited and voluntary motion produced in those
parts, which are supplied with nerves from .the
_ brain, or from the spinal marrow, above the in
-jured part. Hence it is demonstrated, that the
brain, or the junction of this with the spinal mar-
Different Animals, €ec. 487
tow and nerves, is the exclusive seat of sensa-
tion, of the power of beginning voluntary motion
and of the intéllectual powers in man (and other
animals), whose nervous system is naturally
formed and not affected by any gradual disease,
A further proof of thisis derived from hence, that
a suddeh and violent compression of the brain
destroys all sensation, voluntary motion and
intellec'ual powers,
Upon this matter physiologists are generally
agreed ; but they differ very considerably as to
the part* of the brain, which is the immediate
#6 Sedes animi auctore Cartesio est in hypophysi,
Bontekoe; Lancisio 8 La Peyronie auctoribus in corpore
calloso, Digby auctore in septo cerebri medio, Vieusseno
in maximo medullz orbe, aliis in colliculis nervorum opti-
corum, alits in nodo cerebri, Arantio in ventriculo
cerebri tertio, Willisio in corporibus striatis, Drelincurtig
in cerebello, Miegio in Spinz medulla.”
* Verum tamen hypophysis ab Hallero, Virideto, & a
me sine ingenii labe lxsa est inventa; Corpus callosum
Heuermann, Zinn, Lorry & Laghi sine animi labe lzsum
invenerunt, verum tamen hec experimenta, super bestiis
capta, parum certi super labe ingenii produnt, la Peyronie |
vero observationes in hominibus instituit, Septum cerebri
medium non raro sine animi labe ex cerebri hydrope
laborat—Corpora bigemina Viridet lesa invenit—Cere.
bellum plures viderunt vitiatum—Corpora striata la
Peyronie lesa vidit—Spine medullam ¢go sepius sine
ingenii labe in ominibus lsum inveni,” Soemmerring de
Corp. Hum. Fabrica T. IV. P- 100.
Soemmerring seems inclined to consider the liquor of
VOL. v. my
488 On the Nervous Systems of
seat of sensation, volition and reason, which
directly influences and is influenced by the im-
material part of man, and which is by many
writers named the Sensorium Commune, Seat of
the Soul, and lately by Fourcroy Sensibilité Cen
trale. There are few, if any parts of the ence-
phalon, which have not upon: some occasion
been injured or diseased without any remarkable
diminution of the vital and mental powers. If
any one part can with propriety be fixed upon,
as entitled to this distinction, it should be a part,
which cannot be injured without affecting sensa-
tion, volition, &c, and which is found in all
animals, that have a visible nervous system,
The most constant part of the encephalon, ac-
cording to M. Cuvier,* is the cerebellum.
Haller thinks it not improbable,that the seat of the
soulisin the beginning of every nerve and that
the conjoined first origins of all the nerves con-
Stitute the true sensorium commune. — “ Et
denique per conjecturam non absurdam, ubj
initium est nervi cujuscungue, ut omnium ner-
the ventricles as the seat of the sensorium commune.
He says ** Peculiare organum sensorii communis si ponere
fas sit, vel si propria sedes sensorio communi in cerebro
est, haud sine veri quadam specie hoc in humore queri
debet.” Ibid p. 69, See also his Dissertation on the
Organ of the Soul, Berol. 1796. 4.
* Anat. Comparée Tome II, p, 109. & p. 1216
’
Different Animals, ec} 489
worum juncte prime origines efficiant yerum
sensorium commune,’’*
The following case, whilst it, in common with
many others, shews the excessive injury, nay
almost complete destruction, which the human
brain may sustain, consistently with sensation
and voluntary motion, provided this be gra-
dually produced, makes strongly in favour of
the conjecture of Haller. « — was
born with a very large head, but seemed well in
health, increased in strength and grew fat. The
head soon became so unnaturally large and the
features were so much altered, as to leave no
doubt concerning the’ nature of the disease; the
child however increased in size, grew strong in
his limbs and took food: he could both hear
and see well and so continued, until he was 18
months old; he then died suddenly, without any
convulsive attack, On opening the cranium,
more than five quarts of very limpid water were
found within’ it, there was not the smallest trace
of membrane, or brain, except opposite the
orbits and meatus auditorios, where something
like medulla still remained.” This case was
communicated to Dr. Quin by an eminent sur-
geon in Dublin ;+ It is to be wished, that it had
* Prime Linex Physiologiz § 972.
t See Quin’s Treatise on the Dropsy of the Brain
Page 104.
490 On the Nervous Systems of
been still more circumstantially detailed, but it
appears to me allowable to infer from what is
actually stated, that those extremities of the
nerves, usually named their origins, were in this
Case at least the seat of sensation, &c.
2. In some animals, as the turtle and frog for
example, the brain does not appear to be exclu-
sively the seat of sensation and volition, or the
power of producing voluntary motion. For,
if the brain be removed, these animals on the
application of a stimulus to their limbs, continue
to shew indisputably by their movements, that
they are possessed of sensation and volition.
Here then the spinal marrow, if not the nerves,
evidently participate the above powers with the
brain and can exert them independently. of it,*
3. Some insects and worms, when cut into
two, or more pieces, become two or more dis-
tinct and perfect individuals, each possessing
sensation and voluntary motion. In polypuses
the nervous substance is not formed into distinct
visible. fibres, but distributed. equally in every.
part of the body; and these animals may be
diyided into an almost infinite number of pieces, -
each of which becomes a distinct individual, evi-
dently possessing sensation and voluntary moe
tion.t For they perceive the agitation of the
water, in which they are placed: They appear
* Cuvier Anat. Comp, T. Il. p.94. t+ Ibid p.o5— -
‘
i
A}
*
i
o~,
Different Ammals, Sc, 4of
sensible to heat and light and are excited to action
dy these stimuli.* Here then every part of the
system has an equal claim to being the seat of
sensation and volition.
It is only in the more complicated, or perfect
animals, as M. Cuvier very justly observes, that
_ the assemblage of the different parts of the ner-
yous system and especially the presence of its
central parts are absolutely necessary for the
exercise of the functions of this system.t When
we consider what takes place in polypuses, we
may be led to conceive, adds this author, ‘“ that
at the bottom all the parts of the nervous system
are homogeneous and susceptible of a certain
number of similar functions, nearly as the frag~
ments of a large magnet, when broken, become
each a small magnet, having its poles and cur-
rent, and that it is accessory circumstances only
and the complication of functions, which these
parts have to discharge in the higher orders of
animals, that render their concurrence neces-
sary and occasion each to have a_ particular
destination.”
a iia ab Oy expansion des actinies correspond parfaitement
ala sérénité de l’ air, le polype a bras s’ appercoit tres-
bien de la présence de lalumiére ; il 1’ aime & il se dirige
gonstamment vers elle. Ibid. p. 362.
| Anatom. Comparée, T. II, p. 94
Ibid, ps 95. ‘
492 On the Nervous Systems of
The wisdom and power of the Creator are,
perhaps, no where more strikingly evinced than
in the wonderfully diversified structure of the
animal kingdom. We find an almost infinite
variety in the organs, subservient to each of
the numerous functions of the animal body, and
yet each function performed in the manner, best
adapted to the particular economy of every diss
tinct species, .
§ IL.
On original Defects in the Nervous System of the
. Human Species.
Having pointed out generally in the preceding
part of this paper the preeminence of man with
respect to the proportion, organization, and
functions of his nervous system, I shall now
proceed to shew, that, great as the proportion of
this system is, beautiful and complex as its organi-
zation is, and wonderful as its functions are ina
perfect human being, his offspring, in conse-
quence of mal-conformation, is upon some occa«
sions unfortunately reduced to’ a level, with the
lowest animalsin the simplicity, proportion, &c,
of the system under consideration.
The original defects in the nervous system of —
human fetuses differ considerably in their des
Pa er
Different Animals, &c. 493
gréés ; all of which I shall enumerate, beginning
with the smaller ones and proceeding to the
greatest.
1. Fetuses have been born, in which only a
part of the brain, of greater or less extent, was
wanting. In these instances the upper, or vaulted
part of the skull, or at least a considerable portion
of the bones, composing it, has been also found
wanting: The brain is also\ sometimes very
different from.the natural state, in form, colour
and consistence as well as in bulk: Dr. Monro,
in one case, found the substance, occupying the
place of the brain, not more bulky than a small
nut and of a red colour throughout, resembling
a clot of blood. The proper integuments of
the skull are for the most part wanting, the
degenerate portion of brain being only protected
by athin pale or reddish membrane: In one fetus,
however, of this kind, of which a description ©
and figure are given by Professor Sandifort, the
covering of the brain approached more nearly
to the nature of the scalp and was thinly covered
with hairs.
This kind of monster, which is generally,
though not very properly, styled acephalous, since
the base of the skull and face are not wanting,
is by no means an uncommon occurrence. Most
accoucheurs in extensive practice have met with.
one or more, I have brought one into the
404 On the Neroous Systenis of
qworld which was a twin of rather small size; and
it is worthy of remark, that a considerable pro-
portion of these defective fetuses has beer
twins.t As far as F could determine from an
exterior view it was not entirely destitute of
brain, nor did it present any other deformity or
defect ; but I had not an opportunity of ex=
amining it by dissection. Many of these mon-
sters, however, have “exhibited other kinds of
deformity.’ A tumor, containing a thin watery
fluid, has im several instances been found attached
to the base of the skull at its fore, or back part—
A hare-lip, sometimes with, at other times without
a division of the upper jaw and palate, has been
observed—The affection of the spine and spinal
matrow, termed spina bifida or hydrorachitis,
has been occasionally met with—An umbilical
hernia of very large size has also been found—
Examples of all these complicated deformities’
may be seen described and admirably delineated
in Sandifort’s Museum Anatomicum Tab, 122,
223, 124, 126.
_ A fetus was lately born in Manchester, in’
which the brain was not only defective, but
_ +t The very curious acephalous monster, described by
Curtius, was a twin. See Sandifort’s Thesaur. Dissert.
&c. Tom.2. The monsters, described by Drs, Monro
~and Clarke, to be mentioned more particularly hereafter,
were also twins,
Different Animals, Ee, 495
thisplaced. The’ parietal bones and the upper
part of the frontal bone were not wanting, as is
generally the’ case “in acephalous ‘fetuses ; but
they were very small and pressed down flat upon
the base of the skull, so that there was no room
for the brain. The superior portion of the
Occipital bone was wanting and the canal -of the
spine was incomplete, being open behind from
the top of the neck down to thé os sacrum.
The'spinous processes of ‘the vértebre were not
wanting, but’ appeared as if divided and turned
down on each side, so that 4 kind of spoon-like
cavity was formed, which was deepest at the
upper part, owing to the bodies of the cervical
vertebra projecting forwards. In the upper part
of this cavity the cerebellum was'lodged and the
cerebrum extended down to the os sacrum. The
“optic nerves arose from the base ‘of the brain
pretty low down; they were consequently much
elongated ; they were also much slenderer than
usual, though the retina was as large: and pulpy _
as is natural. The spinal marrow was divided
into two slender cords, which were disposed one
‘on each side’ of the encephalon and. gave off
their nerves as they descended. The nerves of
the extremities were of the natural magnitude.
The brain and spinal marrow had only a mem-.,
branous covering posteriorly, «This fetus was
born dead, but not putrid; though born at thé
VOL. Vv. rs
ao6 On thé Nervous Systems of
full time, it was considerably smaller than. the —
ordinary size. It had a club foot and three of
the ribs were united on the right side. The
mother had perceived the motions of this fetus
inthe womb. Mr, Gibson dissected this singu-:
lar fetus and is in possession of the skeleton.
2. The brain has been found entirely wanting;
the. spinal marrow being in a perfectly natural.
state: A remarkable case of this kind is related
by. Dr. Heysham, an ingenious physician at
Carlisle, in his account of the Bills of Mortality:
of that city forthe year 1788, and sees
by some valuable remarks.
I shall give the whole of the case in his owm
words.
«* At eight o’clock on Monday morning, May
26, 1788, Mary, Clarke, aged 26 years and the
mother. of ;six...children, some of whom are
bealthy and others,-unhealthy, was delivered of a
living female chiid, at tht expence of thé Carlisle
Dispensary. The midwife, shocked at the strange
and unusual appearance of the child’s head, sent
for me immediately. 1 got there about an hour
after. the delivery and at first sight it appeared
evident, that the bones, which form the upper
part of the skull, were wanting and that the brain
was only covered by its proper membranes, the
pia and dura mater, and resembled a large ex-
crescence, which projected a little over. the
Different Animals, Ge. 497
common integuments, especially towards the
forehead, where it extended over the root of the
nose. The colour of this substance was a dark
reddish brown, and upon examining it more par-
ticularly I thought I could perceive the division
of the two hemispheres of the brain and likewise
the division of the cerebrum from the cerebellum.
T gently raised with my fingers a part of it, which
projected over the integuments, which made the child
cry and produced a considerable starting, semilar to
what is occasioned by an electric shock. The child
was full grown and seemed in perfect health, her
limbs were plump, firm and well proportioned,
and she moved them with apparent agility. The
external organs of sense were also perfect. She
swallowed well and took a sufficient quantity of
nourishment for several days, but sometimes during
the action of swallowing started a little. She lived
till five o’clock on Sunday morning, June the
ist, when she expired. Some time before her
‘death, she was affected with slight convulsions.
During the three or four days, preceding her
death, there was a constant discharge of a thin
watery fluid, somewhat tinged with blood, from
the excrescence, which greatly diminished its
bulk, for at her death it was only about half the
‘size of what it had been, when she was born, and _
the surface was in some places beginning to put
09 an appearance of mortification,”
498 On the Nervous Systems of
« A few hours after her death, Dr. Blamire and
Mr. Charles. Farish accompanied. me to the
house, where Dr. Blamire very cautiously dis.
sected away from the bones the whole of the
substance; when we found the greatest part of
the frontal, the temporal and the occ pital, and
the whole of the parietal bones wanting. The
substance removed was then carefully examined,
and what.was our astonishment to find it entirely
to consist of membranes, blood-vessels, but
principally of several bags, one of which was as
large as a nutmeg, the rest of different sizes,
but much smaller. They were all filled with a
brownish coloured fluid; which, when the cysts
were punctured, gushed out with some violence,
There was not the least appearance of cerebrum,
cerebellum, or any medullary substance whatever.
The spinal marrow had a natural appearance, but
did not seem to have been connected with the
parts above described.’’
“ Having accurately related the facts, as they
appeared to Dr, Blamire and myself, which for
their singularity deserve to be recorded, I think
the few following obvious inferences may be
drawn from them. 1. That the fluid, discharged
from the excrescence during the life of the
infant, and which produced the greatest diminu-
tion of its bulk, was occasioned by the rupture,
or erosion of cysts, similar to those, which re-
Different Animals, €$¢« 499
mained sound and full. of water after death.
2. That the living principle, the nérves of the trunk
and extremities, sensation and moiton may. exist
independent of the brain and that the natural, vital
and animal functions may be performed without the
brain. And, as the external organs of sense,
viz. the eyes, the nose, the tongue and the ears,
all seemed perfect, may we not therefore sup-
pose, that the optic, the olfactory, the gustatory
and the auditory nerves may exist independent of
and unconnected with either the brain, or the
spinal marrow?’ P. 8—11. .
_ Dr. Heysham has favoured me with an account
of the following additional circumstances, relative
to this accephalous infant—The eyes were as
full and as lively as in any other child of the
same age. The iris evidently contracted on the
application of light and from other observations,
which he then made, he had no doubt, that her
vision was perfect. The child voided both feces
and urine in a regular and natural manner and,
for the first three or four days after her birth,
seemed in perfect health. No stimulants were
applied to her nostrils and he does not know
whether she sneezed naturally or not. As the
absolute want of brain was not known, till after
the child’s death, he was less attentive to minute
circumstances, than he would otherwise have
been.
500 On the Nervous Systems of
3. The brain. and upper part of the spinal
marrow have ‘been wanting, where the lower
portion of the latter was entire and nearly of the
natural size and conformation; as in the case of
the human male monster, of which Dr. Monro
has given an interesting account, illustrated with
engtavings in the Trans. of the Royal Soc. of
Edinburgh, Vol. III. p. 216 &c—This child was
a twin and born at the full time. It had no head, .
or neck; it wanted also about one half of the
ribs; the larynx, trachea and lungs; the heart ;
the pharynx, cesophagus and. stomach with all
the small intestines, except the end. of the ilium ;
the anus; the liver, spleen, pancreas and omenta}3
the renal glands; terminations of the ureters ; the
middle part of the urethra; the right testicle;
both arms; both patella; with several of the.
bones of the feet and toes” ‘s The spinal
marrow was of aconical shape with the top, or
small part of the cone at its upper end, and at
its lower end it formed a cauda equina. From
its two ends and sides it sent off 18 pairs of
nerves; which at their origin and in their pro~
gress were nearly as large as they are in a perfect
fetus, or where the brain and cerebellum are
connected with the spinal marrow,”
The Dr. makes the following remarks on the
nervous system of this monster. 1. As the
spinal marrow and pairs of nerves, sent off from
Different Animals, Gc. 5OL
2
it, had nearly the usual size and structure,
although the brain, cerebellum and \medulla>
oblongata were entirely wanting, ‘we find reason
for calling in question the common doctrine of
authors, which teaches that the spinal marrow
and nerves derive their origin from the brain and
cerebellum and are dependent upon it, as much
as the ducts of glands are upon the glands, which
send liquors into them, | 2. Further, as the
several parts of this monster were furnished with
nerves, and as we have found, that its arteries
and veins, by a well-regulated, varied and com-
plicated action, circulated the blood, we must
suppose, that their muscular fibres were actuated
by those nerves. We therefore find in this
monster, not only the existence and common;
appearance of the spinal marrow and nerves con-
nected with it, although the brain and cerebellum
were wanting ; but we have proof, that. these,
independent of the brain and cerebellum, may
actuate the muscular fibres in the vessels of an
animal, or that nervous energy, or fluid, as it is
commonly called, is not derived from the brain
and cerebellum solely ; that is, we conclude,
that the nerves, as well as the brain and cerebellum,
are capable of furnishing nervous energy ; and that
there is no more reason for believing, that the nerves ,
are derived from the brain, than that the brain 7s
derived from the nerves; or ali the parts and
p02 On the Nervous Systems of
branches of the nervous system appear to” possess the
general power, or office of furnishing nervous
energy.’ Dr. Monto had previously attempted
to-establish these points in his Observations on the
Structure and Functions of the Nervous System:
He says, ‘‘ for the reasons given in last section, I
have long thought and endeavoured to prove, that
our nerves, independent of the encephalon, pos-
sess an energy, or principle of life, which they
derive from their proper pia mater and its
vessels.”” p. 35.
4. A fetus has been found on dissection to be
destitute of brain, spinal marrow, and optic
nerves. This fetus was brought into the world
by Mr. Barlow of Bolton, and an account of
the case! is’ given in’ the Medical and Physical
Journal for September 1860, ‘pages 189—191 $
from which I shall beg’ leave ‘to present the
following abstract,
The mother positively asserted that ‘she went
two months over her time, and “ was not sen-
sible, duting pregnancy, of any difference from
what she had been formerly accustomed to,
either in her own feelings, or in che motion of the
child, and she had had many children, The
birth was marked by no particular occurrence.”
But this fetus was still born, which the relater
of the case supposes “ has always been the case,
Different Animals, €8c. 503
when the brain was wanting.’’*—* In this child,”
says he, ‘‘the upper part of the cranium is entirely
wanting ; and there remains only a thin plate of
bone, covered with a doubling of membrane, in
place of the cervical and the greater part of the
dorsal vertebre. This fold contained no me-
dulla, though it exhibited, on being slit open,
some slender fibrils, which might be construed
into nerves. I should compare it to the proper
coverings of the medulla spinalis, of a thinner
texture, Lower down a displaced portion of
vertebrez is shewn; which was hollow, but con-
tained no medulla: the rest of the spine consisted
of a solid column of bone, without any spinous
processes, The child had besides a.slight in-
version of the feet and a hare-lip on the right
side, in other respects it was full grown and the
colour of the skin was natural. There did not
appear to be any deviation from the common
Structure and arrangement in the viscera of the
thorax and abdomen.”—* Though the eyes were
outwardly well formed, I could not find by
dissection any optic nerve, The nerves in the
upper and lower extremities were, nevertheless,
perfect.”
# * Infantes in lucem eduntut omni fere cerebro atque
spine medulla destituti, qui haud plantarum ratione tan-
tummodo aluntur atque pinguescunt; sed etiam voci-
Ferantur atque sugunt,” Soemmerring. T. 1V. p. 158,
VOL. Vv. AA
504 On the Nervous Systems of
The conclusions, which this writer draws front
the case just related, are diametrically opposite
to those of Prof. Monro and Dr. Heysham.
They are, moreover, so curious as to deserve
being noticed here. He says, “ In comparing
the defective structure of this child with the
ascertained uses in others of those parts, of
which it was deprived, I have been led to con-
clude that nervous influence is not at all necessary
to the growth of the fetus in wlero”—And again,
« Assuming then that the nerves serve merely to
convey the influence of the brain and medulla
spinalis, it is obvious, that when deprived of
these sources, they can impart none. Thus it is
evident, that, although chis fetus had attained the
full size and its motions were not perceptibly different
from another, yet, having no sensorium, it could
possess no sensation.””™ .
* This writer also endeavours to prove, that the perfect
fetus in its uterine state does not possess sensation, by stat
ing that sensibility is not only unnecessary during the
fetal state, but would expose the fetus to hazards, and
by intimating, that sensation is coeval with respiration
I have ina former work satisfactorily shewn, that the
fetus in utero most assuredly does possess both the powe
ers of sensation and voluntary motion,
I shall, therefore, confine myself here to the following
observations. d
1. The proportional bulk of the nervous system is
as gteat and its organization as complete in the fetus, as
in the new-born infant,
Different Animals, €c. 5O5
5. A fetus has occurred, in which not only the
brain and spinal marrow were wanting, but in
which there was no evident appearance of nerves.
A case of monstrosity of this kind is:related by
Dr. Clarke in. the Philosophical: Transactions
for 1793. P. II. p. 154 &c, and accompanied
by two engravings. This monster was included
‘in a distinct set of membranes and had a placenta
belonging to it, the side of which was attached to
the placenta of the perfect twin. It was covered
with the common integuments; was of an oval
2. .The communication betwixt the different parts of
the nervous system is as free in the fetusin utero as after
birth; the brain, spinal marrow and nerves being neither
under the influence of pressure; nor of the action of ‘any
narcotic or other power, which can diminish the nervous
energy,
g- The fetus in utero gives every indication of its
Possessing sensation and voluntary motion, which a
being, so situated, could possibly be expected to give.
4- In whatever manner the respiration of the infant
contributes to its power of sensation after birth, in the
same manner does the respiration of the mother contri-
bute to the sensibility of the living fetus in utero. .
5+ If we grant, that the fetus, born at Bolton, from
having no sensorium could have no sensation, no argu-
ment can be drawn from thence against the power of
sensation in a perfect fetus in utero; because a perfect
fetus does possess sensation after birth and, agreeably to
the above assumption, this defective fetus must, had it
been born alive, have remained for ever destitute of sen-
ation,
506 On the Nervous Systems of
figure, about four inches in length and three
inches in breadth, One edge of it was rather
more concave than the other and near its centre
there was a slender funis umbilicalis, about
1% inch Jong, which had one artery and one
vein.. There were two imperfect feet and a
small projection having the appearance of a
finger; Internally this monster was composed of
soft and bony matter; the former ‘ appeared
of a homogeneous fleshy texture, but without any
regular or distinct arrangement of musculat
fibres and was very vascular throughout; the
bones, which were surrounded by this fleshy
substance, were the os innominatum,the os femorisy
the tibia, the fibula.”—The os innominatum and
os femoris were both perfect and as large as those
of a fetus at the full period of utero-gestation.
“ There was not the smallest appearance of head,
or vertebra, or ribs. There was neither brain,
spinal. marrow, nor nerves, It had no ‘heart,
nor lungs.”? It contained none of the viscera
subservient to digestion, except a little portion
of small intestine, which had a peritoneal cover-
ing and was very vascular, It had no organs of
digestion, nor any glandular substance whatever
‘Amongst other remarks, Dr. Clarke observes
“that the deficiency. of nerves renders it ex-
tremely probable, that their use is very small, if
_any to the embryo.”’
Different Animals, Ge. 507
6. Dr. Clarke informs us in the same paper,
** that in orher cases, where the brain has been
perfect, the spinal marrow has been deficient in
a great part of its extent and sometimes through-
out” p. 159: But I do not recollect an instance
of this kind and Soemmerring says:—‘ Non
raro spine medulla est sine cerebro, numquam
vero cerebrum sine spine medulla est visum,
deficiente enim spine medulla, cerebrum simul
abfuit.’’*
§ II.
On the influence of original defects in the nervous
system of man on sensation and voluntary motion.
From considering merely the laws of sensation
and voluntary motion, mentioned above, as
obtaining in a perfectly formed human being, a
person might be led to conclude a priori, that a
fetus, having no brain, or neither brain nor
spinal marrow, must necessarily be destitute of
sensibility and incapable of throwing into action
any of the muscles subservient to voluntary
motion.
However, when he considers, that the human
* De Corporis Humani Fabrica T. IV. p. 89: where ©
he refers to Huser de Medulla Spinali, Go6tting. 1789.
P+ 45
‘
508 On the Nervous Systems of
brain has in various instances been very exten-
sively injured and diseased, that it has been near~
ly,.perbaps wholly, ,destroyed,.as in the very
extraordinary.case, copied above from Dr, Quin’s
Treatise on. the Dropsy of the Brain,t without
destroying sensation or voluntary motion, some
; doubts must, I think, arise in his mind as to the.
justness of such an inference, because he will
perceive, that the neryous system of man in its
entire and diseased states is governed by different
laws.
Again, when he reflects upon the amazing
diversity of structure, proportion, disposition
&c, observed in the nervous systems of different
‘orders of animals, from man to a zoophyte, and
attends carefully to the various tenures, on
which sensation and voluntary motion are held by
the animal creation ; he will find further reason
for questioning the propriety of the ground, on
which the possession of these two important
faculties is denied to a human fetus, unfortunately
labouring under the privation specified above;
For he will be led to suppose, that its nervous
system may be governed by the same laws as that
of the inferior animals, which it more nearly
xesembles than the nervous system of its own
species in the natural state,
+ Sce page 489.
Different Animals, €9c. 509
When he finds a mother, describing the motions
of a fetus in utero, which happens to be still-
born and is, after its birth, proved by dissection
to have neither brain, nor spinal marrow, as
exactly similar to those of her former perfect
children, he surely can entertain no doubt, that
this fetus, when alive, possessed the same power of
Voluntary motion; And, as this faculty, as well
as sensation, is derived from the nervous system,
he will see a strong reason for believing, that this
same fetus also possessed sensibility.
Further, when he finds one of these defective
beings ushered into the world alive and exhibit-
ing, as far as can be determined, the same powers,
which a perfect child of the same age displays,
crying when touched rudely, moving its limbs
with agility and swallowing food, living more than
five days, and then dying with an incipient mor-
tification of the head, he cannot, I apprehend,
reasonably withhold his assent to this child’s
possessing the faculty of sensation as well as that
of voluntary motion —Who will contend, that
this child could not feel, because it had no sen-
sorium commune? Who does not perceive, that
the encephalon and sensorium commune are not
exactly‘synonymous terms and consequently not
always to be used indiscriminately in speaking of
the animal faculties? :
In one of these two cases I have no doubt,
$10 On the Nervous Sysiems of
that the powers of sensation and voluntary mo-
tion were derived from the nerves independently
of the brain, and in the other case, independently
both of the brain and spinal marrow,
But what shall we say of the monster, described
by Dr. Clarke in the Philosophical Transactions ?
The Dr. is a good anatomist and appears to have
dissected this rude mass with great care and at-
tention, yet he could not discover a single nerve,
By a nerve, strictly speaking, is understeod a
continuation of the substances of the brain, or
spinal marrow, wrapped in its proper membrane.
By nervous matter I understand the substances
of the brain, spinal marrow, or nerves, separate
from their proper membranes. Now, shall we
suppose that in this being no nerves, or nervous
Matter existed? Or, shall we suppose, that
there were nerves, or nervous matter, but dis-
tributed in such a manner as to elude Dr. Clarke’s
| observation, and that the limited powers, pos-
sessed by this rude animal production during its
life, were ascribable to nervous influence?
I am inclined to adopt the latter opinion, for
the following reasons.
1. Nervous and muscular fibrils may be de-
: tected by magnifying glasses in parts, where they
can not otherwise be perceived, and it does not
appear, that Dr. Clarke availed himself of any
“Instrument of this kind in his search for nerves,
a oe
SSI
Different Animals, &e, BIR
2. The cineritious and medullary substances
are the essential parts of the nervous system, the
coats or membranes of the encephalon, spinal
marrow and nerves being given them merely for
protection and not contributing directly either to
sensation, or motion. *
3. Nervous matter is distributed to many
points, where we cannot demonstrate its pre-
sence to the eye and wheré we can only infer its
existence from their sensibility. We cannot
prick the skin with the smallest instrument, with.
out exciting pain; whence it is evident, that there
is nervous matter in every point of the skin,
though we have no other means of proving it.
4- The blood vessels had evidently possessed
the power of circulating the blood in this mon.
Strous fetus and, though it was much inferior in
size to its fellow-twin, its growth had proceeded
to a certain extent, and bone, skin, cellular mem
brane, ligament, cartilage, intestine; &e had been
formed: Now I do not admit any power as
capable of giving energy to the muscular fibres of
the arteries and veins, except the vis nerved, Or
nervous power.
Tam of opinion, that no such power exists in
muscular fibres as a vis insi/a, or inherent power,
distinct from, or independent of, a nervous pow-
er, The experiments and arguments, adduced by
VOL, Vv. BB
§i2 On the Nervous Systems of
Dr. Monro,* seem to prove fully that the coti-
traction of a muscle, which has been attributed to
this supposed vis insita, may be equally well ac-
counted for from the nervous power alone, and
that the former would be a superfluous power
in the animal economy, the supposed vis insita
being excited, or destroyed by the same meansas_
the nervous power. When the brain or spinal
marrow is irritated, the muscles or muscular .
fibres contract, tremble, or are convulsed; when
the point of a needle or other sharp body, is
pushed into a nerve, distributed to a particular
muscle, a contraction of that muscle ensues; in
which cases the muscular fibres act confessedly
by virtue of their nervous power. When a
needle is pushed into the fibres of the muscle
itself, a contraction also takes place, and in this
case it has been supposed by the celebrated
Haller and others, that the fibres contract by
virtue of their vis insita: But the only differs
ence appears to consist in this; that in the for-
mer experiments the stimulus acts upon the
brain, spinal marrow or the trunk, or an evident
branch, of a nerve,whilst in the latter it acts upon
one, or more of those nervous filaments, or por-
tions of nervous matter, which, though not always
demonstrable to the sight, we have every reason
* Observations on the Nervous System, p, 91—94-
Different Animals, &c. 519
to believe are constantly and invariably distri-
buted to every muscular fibre. —It has been
urged, as an argument in favour of a vis insita,
that muscles, or muscular fibres, will contract for
a considerable time, after their separation from
the body, on the application of a stimulus.* But
this fact may be perfectly explained by the ad-
mission of a nervous power only; for why can-
not the nerves, which evidently possess an energy
independently of the brain, retain this energy
after the removal of muscles from the body, as
long as the muscular fibres can retain their sup-
posed vis insita?
From what has been stated in the preceding
part of this paper, the following conclusions
amongst others may, I conceive, be very fairly
drawn.
1. That every perfect animal, from man_to
the polypus, possesses the powers of sensation
and voluntary motion,
2. That infants, though born destitute of
brain, or even of brain and spinal marrow, pos-
sess these two important faculties.
g. That the fetus in utero is neither destitute
of sensation, nor voluntary motion,
* In warm-blooded animals this takes place for an
hour or more; in cold-blooded ones more than a day
pfterwards,
514 On the Nervous Systems of, Bc
4+ That the power of action in the arteries
and veins, by which the circulation of the blood
and. the formation of the different parts are
effected in the most defective human monsters,
is derived from a nervous energy, independently
of brain, spinal marrow, or eyen evident and
distinct nerves.
515
Experiments and Observations on the
HEAT and COLD produced by the
MECHANICAL CONDENSATION
and RAREFACTION of AIR.
BY JOHN DALTON,
READ JUNE 27, 1800,
I; a thermometer be inclosed in a receiver and
the air suddenly condensed, the thermometer
rises a few degrees above the temperature of the
atmosphere ; and if the air be exhausted from a
receiver inclosing a thermometer, the mercury
sinks a few degrees immediately 3; but in both
cases after some time it resumes its former stax
tion. These facts are well known to philoso.
phers of the present age, but they do not all
agree in the explanation of them. Thinking the
subject worthy of elucidation, I was induced to
institute a series of experiments for the purpose; _
which I apprehend have led to a clear demon=
Stration of the cause of the phenomena, and
moreover make the facts themselves appear in a
somewhat different point of view from what they
re seen in at the first moment,
B16 On Heat S Cold produced by Mechanical
One circumstance is very remarkable, that
whether the mercury rises or falls in these in-
stances, it is done very rapidly; whereas in the
‘Oper air, if a thermometer be only two or three
degrees above or below the temperature, it
moves very slowly, This seems to have sug-
gested to every one the idea that the elasticity
of the glass bulb of the thermometer has a prin-
cipal share in producing the effect, by causing
the bulb to yield a little to the pressure of the
air. It has however been found upon trial that
the same effects take place whether the ther-
mometer is sealed or not. My experiments
accord with this, having made a thermometer
and left it unsealed for the express purpose ; in
all the experiments with condensed and rarefied
air, there was no sensible difference observed to |
arise from the inequality of pressure on the ex-
ternal and internal surfaces of the ‘bulbs, the
sealed and open thermometers-varying the same
_in kind and also in degree, except from circum-
stances to be noticed hereafter.
It being. certain then that a real change of
temperature takes place, it remained to determine
the quantity and manner of that change. Hav-
ing chosen a small and consequently sensible
thermometer, with a scale of degrees sufficiently
large to admit. of distinguishing one tenth of a
)
Condensation & Rarefaction of Air. By
degree, I proceeded to ascertain several facts
experimentally.
EXPERIMENT 1.
. Took a receiver, the capacity of which was
about 120 cubic inches, and suspended the ther-
mometer with its clear bulb in the central part
of it; then letting the whole acquire the tem.-
perature of the room, which was without a fire,
I exhausted the air and afterwards restored it,
marking the effects upon the thermometer. The
medium of several trials nearly agreeing with
each other was as under:
The Thermometer
in the air of the room stood at..-.36°.8
sunk upon exhaustion tO -s.----+---- 34 +7
rose when the air was restored to.-38 .g
The suddenness of the fall and rise puzzled me
most: after reflecting upon it for some time,
I conjectured that the real change of tempera-
ture of the air or medium was much greater than
the thermometer indicated, but that the ine-
quality existed only for a few seconds of time,
because the receiver, &c. immediately impart
heat to ‘or abstract it from so small a quantity
of air as 120 cubic inches, which are only equal —
to 40 erains in weight,—The phenomena of the
518 On Heat & Cold produced by Mechanical
thermometer seemed very well to accord with
the supposition of great heat or cold acting upon
it for a few seconds only.
EXPERIMENT 2,
Pursuing this idea I imagined that if two
thermometers whose bulbs were very unequal in
magnitude were inclosed together, the smaller
bulb ought to give the greater variation: ac-
cordingly I inclosed two, the diameters of their
bulbs being .35 and .65 of an inch respectively ;
and having exhausted the air and restored it |
again repeatedly in succession, and found a
mean of the variations, that of the small bulb
was 2°, 8, and that of the large, 2° 2.
EXPERIMENT 3.
Repeated the exhaustion with the small ther-
mometer inclosed in three different circum-
Stances successively; ast with. the bulb in the
centre of the receiver; ed with the bulb resting
on the wet leather of the plate; and 3d with the
bulb resting against the side of the receiver.
ist Case—Reduced by exhaustion .........+. 2°.45
OE) Cast cacctstaccuniotenies pant nan endsunes sauuuncusyaehiwas 2.15
BEL Rea cc sh nai sakuteleatned canna nng eae 1.2
ist Case—Raised by restoring the air .--..... 4 .O5
Ee ARC ree desccaned, PME taal oes. Ea aD 2.25
gd Case— «21 avanvssnassnuanens nnsventarns aensaanssnessareD, 4O
Condensation & Rarefaction of Air. 5l9
EXPERIMENT 4.
Inclosed a wine glass with about a cubic inch
of water in it, containing the bulb of a thermo-
meter, in a receiver ; and, exhausting the air, the
thermometer sunk half a degree suddenly, and
then continued stationary ; upon restoring the
_ air it suddenly rose half a degree,
All these experiments confirmed my conjec.
ture of a much greater degree of heat and cold
being produced in these cases than the thermo-
meter points out, but that its continuance is so
short as not to effect a material change in the
temperature of the mercury. The following
experiments were made to ascertain what may be
the real degree of heat and cold generated in
those operations,
EXPERIMENT 5,
The samereceiver & small thermometer as above
being used, I found the exhaustion was effect
ed by working the pump one minue. The ther.
mometer sunk nearly 2°in the first half minute,
and the remainder, a few tenths of a degree, in
the latter half minute. The operation being
Stopped, and things remaining in the same
State, it required some minutes of time
before the thermometer recovered one degree
VOL. v. cc
520 On Heat € Cold produced by Mechanical
of the heat lost. Upon opening the cock, the.
receiver filled with air in five seconds, and the
greatest volocity of the rising mercury was about
the end of that time. The rising continued
for 30 or 40 seconds from its commencement,
but ¢ of the effect were produced in the first
10 seconds. The greatest velocity of the rising
mercury is 1°in 37 seconds. After the thermos
meter had attained its utmost height, it be-
gan to fall again at the rate of vo of a degreé
in a minute,
EXPERIMENT 6.
Took the same thermometer and heated it fe
50° above the temperature of the air, then let
it be cooled by the medium of air, and it be.
gan to fall at the rate of 1° in 3 seconds.
The two last experiments séem to prove’ that
when air is let in to the receiver in the ordinary
way, an increase of temperature of 50° 1s produced
in the medium within the receiver for 3: seconds.
. This high temperature is reduced in a@ few seconds
by the receiver and surrounding bodies, to their
own temperature,
. Condensation & Rarefaction of Air, 521
EXPERIMENT 7.
On condensed Air.
Took a large spherical glass receiver, the capa-
city of which was something more than twice
that of the former (above one gallon), and sus-
pended a thermometer in the centre of it, of a
larger bulb than that before used; the receiver
had a brass cap and stop-cock adapted to it:
Then doubled the density of the air within it
by a condenser. The thermometer rose 2° or
more. Let out the air suddenly and the ther-
mometer immediately sunk each time from 3°
to 3°. 5; at the same time an exceedingly dense
mist was produced in the receiver, which soon
subsided.
Suspecting that aqueous vapour, which always
- exists in the atmosphere, and is liable to assume
the liquid or aérial form according to circum-
stances, might be the principal agent in the pro-
duction of heat and cold by condensation and
rarefaction, I thought that an increase of it might
produce a greater effect, and that cold air, which
contains less vapour, might have a less effect.
The reverse however was the fact, as appears by .
the following,
522 On Heat & Cold produced by Mechanical
EXPERIMENTS 8 & g.
In a cold morning last winter when the air
was clear and the thermometer without stood at
zo’, I took the receiver and condenser into the
open air, and let them stand for 15 minutes to ac-
quire its temperature ; then repeatedly condens-
ed the air to a double density, and suddenly hibe-
rated it again. On a medium of 5 trials the
mercury fell 3°.3 on opening the cock. —The
vapour precipitated was whiter than usual and
not nearly so dense.
Again, took the receiver and condenser into.
a dyer’s stove where the temperature was about
100°, and the air abounded with vapour in a
transparent state: after some time, condensed the
air and liberated it as before, when on a me-
dium of 5 trials the mercury sunk only 3°, and
a very copious mist was precipitated, so dense
that one could but just distinguish the degree of
the thermometer through it,
These experiments shew that the greater the
quantity of vapour condensed the less is the
change of temperature; and that consequently,
if air was entirely free from vapour, the change
of temperature would be a maximum. Indeed
this is clearly consistent with the known law,
that when vapour is condensed, heat is given
Condensation & Rarefaction of Aire 523 :-
out. Any process to cool the air must be re-
tarded by the condensation of part of the vapour
it contains. Suppose for instance that a portion
of the atmosphere contained 5 of its weight of
aqueous vapour, and that 2 of this vapour were
condensed by 50°of cold ; that is, .1_ of the whole
elastic mass was converted into water; then the heat
given out would be sufficient to raise the tempera-
ture of the remaining mass of air and vapour 6 or
8°, which sufficiently accounts for the small
difference observed in the results upon warm
vapoury air and cold dry air. Hence vapour,
far from producing the change of temperature
in question, tends to diminish the effect.
If any doubt remained with me respecting
the veal change of temperature that takes place
in the operations related above, it was com-
pletely removed by the results of the two fol-
lowing experiments.
-
EXPERIMENT 10.
Inclosed a small graduated glass tube of 4 of an »
inch internal diameter, & 10 inches long, witha
short column of mercury init, in the large receiv-
er; the tube was sealed at one end and open at
the other, so that a portion of air of given ca-.
pacity was confined by the mercurial column,
524 On Heat & Cold produced by Mechanical
which was near the open end of the tube, and
subject to rise or fall by any variation of elas~
ticity of the air on either side, being a proper
manometer: then doubled the density of the
air in the receiver, and opening the stop-cock,
the mercurial column soon ran up to its former
station, but instantly turning the cock again, the
mercurial column returned or fell down gra-
dually for 5 or 10 seconds, to the amount of
neatly , of the whole aérial column, and
then became stationary. Again opening the
cock, a quantity of air rushed out, and the mer-
cury resumed its original station. These effects
were always the same, on a repetition of the
experiment.
EXPERIMENT 11.
Let the mercurial column of the manometer
down by a wire tot of the length of the tube
from the sealed end; then exhausted 3 of the
_air from the receiver, which was seen by the
mercury rising to the top of the tube; and upon’
opening the cock the mercury fell to its former
station, but then suddenly turning the cock, the
mercury gradually rose for the space of 5 or 10
seconds to more than 4, of its original height
above the stationary point, and remained there
till the cock was opened; after which it resum-
ed its proper station,
:
:
y
Condénsation Rarefaction of Air. 52%
The phenomena in the two last experi-
ments can be explained only on the fol-
lowing principle: The air in the receiver and
in the manometer is subject to a like degree
of rarefaction and condensation in those ex.
periments, or very nearly so, When the equi-
librium of heat in the air is disturbed by the
operations of condensation and rarefaction, it is
restored in the manometer instantly, by reason of
the contiguity of the glass to the air; but in the
large receiver it requires a sensible time of 10
seconds or more to restore the equilibrium
throughout the whole internal capacity. It is
this restoration that increases or diminishes the
elasticity of the air confined in the receiver, and
thereby causes the retrogradation of the mercurial
column. Now I have found by former experi=
ments that.a change of 50° in temperature effects
a change of 1. nearly, in the capacity or bulk
of air. It follows therefore that in the case
of restoring the equilibrium in condensed air,
about 50° of cold is produced; and in letting
in air to an exhausted receiver something more
than 50° of heat is produced. The small differ.
-ence seems to arise from this, that the conden-
sation of vapour in the former: case diminishes
the effect, and in the latter, if any there be,
increases the effect, that would arise from Ope-:
rating upon purely dry air.
526 On Heal €? Cold produced by Mechanical, ec.
‘The experiments and observations hitherto
related go principally to ascertain facts with-
out any reference to the theory of them: This
however may be given in a few words, and 1g
the same that is ascribed to Mr. Lambert by
Messrs. Saussure and Pictet and by them adopt-
ed. He conceives that a vacuum has its proper
capacity for heat, the.same as air, or any other
substance; and that the capacity of a vacuum
for heat is Jess than that of an equal volume
of atmospherical air; also that the denser air is,
the Jess is its capacity for heat: upon: these
principles the phenomena are easily referable
to that class of chemical facts where heat and
cold are generated by the mixture of two dif
ferent bodies.—If this theory be right, and I
think there is little doubt of it, we may hence
be led into a train of experiments, by which the
‘absolute capacity of a vacuum for heat may be —
determined; and likewise the capacities of the
different gases for heat, by a method wholly
new :—but this must be left to future inves-
tigation.
527
ACCOUNT
of some
ANTIQUES,
' LATELY FOUND IN THE RIVER RIBBLE, &e.
BY MR. THOMAS BARRIT.
READ SEPTEMBER 26, 1800.
By he articles here exhibited for the amusement
of the society are principally a few different
specimens of antiques, generally denominated
Celts, lately found in the river Ribble in this
county.
As the particular uses of these celts have been
very learnedly discussed and still left undeter-
mined, little more can be advanced upon the
subject than to quote the remarks our best an-
tiquaries have made, Mr. Pegge (Archzologia,
page 85, vol. 9,) says, these brazen instruments
seem at present undetermined, it not being yet
ascertained, whether they were for military pur-
poses, or for civil and domestic employments ;'
and, after all that has been advanced by writers
upon the subject, it remains an undecided point,
I shall not therefore attempt to resume the con-
sideration of this question, but may venture to
VOL VY, Dd D
528 Account of some Antiques, ec.
embrace the opportunity of making a few ob-
servations concerning them.
These.celts are always of brass, let their form
be ever so various, always with a thick crust of
aerugo upon them. They have been found in
many different places in England, Wales and
Ireland ; at Herculaneum and other places upon
the Continent ; and are supposed to have belong-
ed to the Celtz, or first inhabitants of this island»
from whom the name is given by antiquaries to
these instruments; in France they are called
Gallic hatchets. —
They have been supposed older than the
invention of iron, which perhaps may be the
case from whence they came, and in Britain
where they were brought; but a conclusion from
this cannot be drawn that iron was unknown in
other places.
Mr. Lort, in his observations upon celts, says
they were too awkward to have been invented
- and fashioned by the Romans, and at the same
time that they were too correct and shapely to
have been the work of the Britons before the
invasion of Julius Cesar. All authors however
have agreed to allow them to be of high anti-
quity : as to my opinion I am inclined to think
them ihe greatest antiquties this island can boast
of, and that they’surpass all others in point of
age. Their resemblance is not found upon any
SE EI
FES
Account of some Antiques, Fe. 529
Greek or Roman coin; neither are they to be
found amongst those models of armour and
Weapons upon the Trajan or Antonine pillars
at Rome; nor do any of the writers upon the
Roman military art mention or describe any
offensive weapons of this sort; and therefore
when any have been found in undoubted Ro-
man stations, and accompanied even with Ro-
man coins, &c. we are obliged to suppose either
that they came thither by chance as the spoils of
some British or Celtic enemy, or that they were
the arms or tools of barbarian auxiliaries, Sir
James Ware observes, «It is past controversy the
arms of the ancient Irish were made of brass,
and likewise those of the ancient Greeks, Ger-
mans and Britains.” Some again have thought,
and with great probability, that they were intro-
duced into this island by the Phoenician mer-
chants of Tyre and Sidon, who had in return
British tin, Whoever were the people that used
them, I am inclined to believe that some of the
tribes of the Indians in’ North America were
their descendants, from the agreement observable
between the ancient Celt and the modern Toma-
hawk, both in size and shape; and this last is
used both fora weapon and for domestic pur-
poses. © ;
Nearly all these celts have or have had loops
at the sides, beyond all doubt to tie them to 4
530 Account of some Antiques, Se.
handle, yet 1 do not find that any writer upon
the subject has had any idea of the handles
being other than straight ones; which leads one
to conclude the common name of battle ax to be
very improperly applied, and that of pike, pilum
or javelin to be more consistent. One of these,
No. 6, I make no doubt was of this kind,
although now without a considesable portion of
its length. No. 2 is in the form of an ax, and
with Nos. 1, 3, 4, 9, whose edges have the ap-
pearance of chizels, may all. have been used as
axes with very great propriety, by being fitted
with handles bent at the end, and thereby would
become formidable weapons either against man
or beast ; or being mounted upon a straight shaft,
might be used for pushing forward or piercing
the earth, as an hoeing tool, and so capable of
serving the two-fold purpose of peace or war;
and with the loops at the sides might be suspended
by a thong over the shoulder or round the waist
when not wanted; and, upon occasion, it was an
easy matter for inhabitants of the woods, as the
ancient Britons were, to break from a tree a
bough with an acute angle, and immediately to
accommodate himself with a utensil for his pre-
sent purpose.
It seems a little strange and what I have often
wondered at, that these celts are so often called
battle axes, and none of our antiquaries have
Account of some Antiques, ec. 632
mentioned the idea of a crooked handle which
certainly gives them a much greater importance
as military weapons. It is not at all unlikely
but that a certain sort of these celts might have
been used by the Druids of this country, for
cutting down the mizeltoe from trees, and chop-
ping it to pieces for their mystical purposes.
Medea (in one of Seneca’s plays) is repre-
_ sented cutting roots and herbs for her inchanted
chaldron with a brazen knife. Pliny says, the
mizeltoe was cut down with a golden sickle,
which words I apprehend being taken too literally,
have been the means of leading more than one
learned antiquary some years back into a mis-
take, causing them to introduce into engravings
the representation of a Druid with a sickle in his
hand, of the shape used by the farmers of the
present day ; but as the Druid’s sickle or bill
has never been described, and no weapon of the
form of our present sickle, fabricated of the metal
now denominated gold, has ever yet been found,
we have reason to suspect the truth of the relation
as to the metal, and ought rather to credit the celt to
have been the sickle of the Druid, which was
made of brass or copper, and perhaps from the
high price, scarcity and colour, might have
been esteemed precious and valuable as gold.
_ No, 10 was found in the summer of 1799, near
Leigh in this county, and is evidently the head
532 Account of some Antiques, Se.
of a spear. The loops on each side would
almost lead one to suppose it was of celtic origin 3
but I am inclined to think it was the head of a
Roman standard, to which the silken or linen
labarum was affixed, which was suspended from
the top of a spear by means of a small yard, like
the sail of a ship. This conjecture will be
strongly corroborated by attending to Roman
coins of the later Emperors, whereon is seen
a standard of the above description, as on some
of the coins of Constantines, Valens and
other Emperors; these standards or colours
were introduced after the metal eagle, the boar,
the hand, the head of the Emperor, é&c. were
Jaid aside.
No. 11 is alump of sal ammoniac found at the
entrance of Gaythorn Row, the top of Deans-
gate, near Castleficld, Manchester, in the year
1788, with a Roman coin of Tetricus, who ruled
in Britain under the Emperor Aurelian.* | What
this salt might have been used for by the ancients,
ifit had any use,or indeed whether it may not bea
natural production, is uncertain ; many fragments
of unglazed pots, and one in tolerable preserva-
tion with two handles, were turned up at the same
time. Perhaps upon or very near this place
was the pottery to the Roman station near
adjoining: Verstigan in his ‘Restitution of
* About the year 274.
PE ST ia Se IR ES ee
Account of some Antiques, Ec. 533
decayed Intelligence in Antiquities,” when men+
tioning the different fossils, shells, bones, &c,
found in Britain says: ‘‘ Moreover potters in
“ working their clay, which is gotten in some
* espetial places, do fynd in it certain things
*¢ which are as hard as stone, and of the very
“ forme and shape of the toungs of some sortes
© of fishes, each with the root unto it, to make
** it the very markable and right proportion of
* such a kynd of toung in all respects, some
* being more than two inches long, and some
* lesse than one inche, and they that thus find
‘© them do not otherwise call them but the toungs
of fishes, which being so, and turned into very
* hard stone is a strange thing in nature.”
Whether this same article be of the sort Versti-
gan alludes to, cannot at this day be determined ;
however, from the shape and its being found in
the scite of an ancient pottery, it may be supposed
to be one of those he describes.
No, 12 isa ring of brass found in Castlefield
in 1796, with a bluish sort of a bead of pot ware
upon it and ribbed, each rib terminating at the
hole through which the ring passes; another of
the same sort, supposed to belong to the other,
was so broken as notto be worth gathering. I am
inclined to think this ring was the bracelet of a
British or Roman lady, and the beads upon it the
amulet or charm to protect the wearer from mis-
534 . Account of some Antiques, Ge.
t
t st
Wilitte
fortunes or injuries, and to proc
_fovers and superiors. This ‘ic
Be ° sat i ai
‘ Need, a
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STATENS Nee fetta, \
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a i
AC
— Mnlayutlies
ne the [pigeon oS SET Barrett 7 WMandhetter,
dawn half the MHz f “Mhe cris .
Might of Chase Orlls wore found ti lhe
hitver Little 1800.
Divan ly V Barnlt Nor. 1801,
Vol. PL VW Wage 534
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ofthe vaiginaks
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535
EXPERIMENTAL ESSAYS
On “the Constitution of mixed Gases ;
on the Force of Steam or Vapour from
Water and other Liquids in different tem-
peratures, both in a@ Torricellian Vacuum
and in Air; on EVAPORATION ; ; and on
the Ba of Gases by Heat.
BY JOHN DALTON.
READ oct. 2, 16 anv 30, 1801.
wee ft
hilosophical knowledge is
advanced by the discovery of new and important
facts; but much more when those facts lead to the
establishment of general laws. It is of impor-
_ tance to understand that the descent of falling
bodies is the same every where on the surface of
the earth; but from that and some other parti-
cular facts to infer the law of gravitation,, or
that all matter attracts with a force decreasing as
the square of the distance, is a much higher
attainment in science... In the train, of experi-
VOL, V. Fite a,
B36 On the Constitution of mixed Gases, Se.
ments lately engaging my attention some new
facts have been ascertained, which with others,
seem to authorise the deduction of general laws,
and such as will have influence in various
departments of natural philosophy and chemistry.
As the detail of experiments will be best un-
derstood and their application seen, if the laws
of principles alluded to be kept in view, it may
be proper here to state them; though it must not
be understood that they were proceeded upon
hypothetically in the direction of those experi-
ments- On the contrary, the first law, which is
as a mirror in which all the experiments are best
viewed, was Jast detected, and after all the par-
ticular facts had been previously ascertained.
1. When two elastic fluids, denoted by 4
and B, are mixed ‘together, there is no mutual
repulsion: amongst their particles; that is, the
particles of .4 do not repel those of B, as they
‘do one another. Consequently, the pressure
or whole weight upon any one particle arises
solely from those of its own kind.
2, The force of steam from all liquids is the
same, at equal distances above or below the seve-
‘ral temperatures at which they boil in the open
air: and that force is the same under any pres-
sure of an other elastic fluid as it is in vacuo,
“Thus, the’ force of aqueous vapour of 912° is
equal to go inches of mercury; at 30° below, or
On the Constitution of mixed Gases, Sc. 537
182°, it is of half that force; and at 40° above,
or 252°, itis of double the force;, so likewise
the vapour from sulphuric ether which boils at
102°, then supporting 30 inches of mercury, at
30° below that temperature it has half the force,
and at 40° above it, double the force: and so in
other liquids. Moreover, the force of aqueous
vapour of 60° is nearly equal to inch of mer-
cury, when admitted into a torricellian vacuum ;
and water of the same temperature, confined
with perfectly dry air, increases the elasticity
to just the same amount,
3. The quantity of any liquid evaporated in
the open air is directly as the force of steam from
such liquid at its temperature, all other circum-
stances being the same.
4. All-elastic fluids expand the same quan-
tity by heat: and this expansion is very nearly in
the same equable way as that of mercury; at
least from 32° to 212°.—It seems probable the
expansion of each particle of the same fluid, or its
- sphere of influence, is directly as the quan-
tity of heat combined with it; and consequently
the expansion of the fluid as the cube of the
temperature, reckoned from the point of sta
privation.
Having now stated the chief principles which
seem to be established from the following series
538 On the Constitution of mixed Gases, Sc.
of facts and observations, I shall proceed to treat
of them under the several heads.
ESSAY I.
On the Constitution of mixed Gases: and particularly
of the Aimosphere.
Ever since the discovery of the atmosphere
consisting of two distinguishable elastic fluids of
different specific gravities, it has been a subject
of insurmountable difficulty to explain clearly
the mode of their combination. Two opinions
have been given respecting it: the one supposes
that the two fluids are merely mixed together,
without any chemical combination; but assigns
no reason why they do not separate and the hea-
viest take the lowest place. The other supposes
a true chemical union to exist between the two,
and thus obviates the difficulty arising from the
consideration of specific gravity; but this pro-
duces others of no less magnitude. Why does
no change of bulk, of temperature, or of any of
their distinct properties take place, which is usual
on all other chemical combinations? ~ Why do
not oxygenous and azotic gases taken in due pro-
portion, and mixed, constitute nitric acid gas,
anothey elastic fluid, totally distinct in its pro-
On the Constitution of mixed Gases, 8c. 539
perties from either of the ingredients? To these
questions, and many others that might be pro-
posed, no satisfactory answer has ever been
given, Indeed this hypothesis is much the most
untenable of the two; the notion of chemical affi-
nity connecting elastic particles mutually re-
pelling each other is plainly an absurdity ;
and if we suppose the particles to have no
repulsion to each other, but instead of it to
coalesce, then it is impossible to conceive why
they do not.form nitric acid gas, and why a
change of bulk, or temperature, or both does
not occur. All! these difficulties are entirely
removed by the subsequent theory, for the
understanding of which it will»be neédful to
premise certain propositions.
Prop. 1. The density of elastic fluids is
exactly as the compressing force, all other cir-
cumstances alike.
This is a physical proposition and depends
_upon experiment for proof. All experiments
agree that if a quantity of air be pressed with
two, three, &c. times the force of the atmos-
phere, it will occupy 4, 4, &c. of the space oc-
cupied before; and when the pressure of the
atmosphere is taken off it expands accordingly.
This I find is not séricély true with regard to ,
atmospheric air ; which, when condensed with 2
double force, occupies a space something /ess than
540 On the Constitution of mixed Gases, Gc.
what the above ratio assigns; because aqueous
vapour, one of the elements of atmospheric air,
loses its form, or becomes partly converted into
water by pressure. If air confined by sulphuric
acid be tried, it accords very exactly with the
abeve law. If air confined by water be tried,
the condensed air is always something /ess and
the rarefied air something more than what the
theory assigns, which is entirely owing to the
destruction or formation of a quantity of aque-
ous vapour. My method of experimenting is
very simple ; it consists in condensing or rarefy-
ing the air by a column of mercury in a long
straight tube, divided into. equal portions; the
tube must be +z or #5 of an inch internal diameter,
and then it may be inverted without losing its
contents, if the mercurial column be less than
39 inches, when the rarefaction of air is the
object. |
Prop. 2. Homogeneous elastic fluids are
constituted of particles that repel one another
with a force decreasing directly as the distance of
their centres from each other.
This proposition is a mathematical one, and
its demonstration founded upon the fact of the
density being as the pressure. The proof
may be seen in the Principia, B. 2. Prop. 25.
It follows too that the distances of the centres of
the particles, or which is the same thing, the -
On the Constitution of mixed Gases, 8c. 541
diameters of the spheres of influence of each
particle, are inversely as the cube root of the den-
sity of the fluid.
' The proposition applies to homogeneous elastic
fluids only; how far it may apply to mixed fluids
remains to be considered.—With regard to the
constitution of such there may be several hypo-
theses; some of which we shall now consider,
1. The particles of one elastic fluid may repel
those of another with the same force ce as they repel
those of their own kind.
In this case, if m measures of A were mixed
with 7 measures of B, in the pneumatic appara-
tus, and under the atmospheric. pressure of 30
inches of mercury, the two would occupy m-+i
measures of space. If they were of the same
specific gravity, they would remain in the situ-
ation they were left, of intimate mixture or of
separation, as ithappened. If they were of dif-
ferent specific gravities, the lightest would rise
to the top of the vessel :—The pressure on each
particle of the mixture would be equal to g0
inches of mercury.
Now with regard to the application of these
principles; as we know of no two elastic fluids,’
which when mixed, obey the laws of their spe-
542 Onthe Constitution of mixed Gases, €9c.
cific gravities ; this hypothesis is inconsistent with
‘the phenomena.
2. Particles of one elastic fluid may repel those
of another with forces greater or less than what is
exert upon ky own kind.
Here again m measures of A, with 2 measures
of B would occupy m+n measures, and the pres-
sure on each particle of the mixture be the same,
and equal to 30 inches of mercury. But the -
fluids in this case could not remain mixed or
diffused intimately through each other; that fluid
of the greatest specific gravity must take the
lowest place.—This therefore is equally incon-
sistent with the known phenomena, and must. be
rejected also,
3. The particles of one elastic. fluid may have
a chemical affinity or attraction-for those of another.
Here if m measures of 4 and m measures of
B were mixed, a union of particles ensues, and
the new compound may assume the solid, liquid
or aériform state according to its nature. If
the compound be of the solid or liquid form,
the two elastic fluids may wholly disappear ; if it
’
/
On the Constitution of mixed Gases, 3c. 549
be aériform, then a diminution of bulk, an in.
crease of temperature and of specific gravity may |
be expected—Several facts in chemistry accord _
with this hypothesis-When muriatic acid gas
and ammoniacal gas are mixed together in due
Proportion, a solid substance, muriate of am-
monia, is formed, ant the gases wholly disap-
pear. When ammoniacal gas and aqueous
vapour are mixed, the two unite and a portion
of the compound becomes liquid. When nitrous
Bas and oxygenous gas are mixed in due propor-
tion, the two unite and form a new elastic com.
pound of greater specific gravity and conses
quently of less bulk, nitric acid gas.—But there
are other cases of mixtures of elastic fluids, some
of which have been mentioned, where no signs
of chemical affinity are discoverable ; in regard
to such this hypothesis fails equally with the
other two, We must therefore have recourse to
another.
(4. The particles of one elastic fluid may Possess
no repulsive or attractive power, or be perfectly in-
elastic with regard to the particles of another: and
consequently the mutual action of the fluids be subject
to the laws of inelastic bodies,
According to this hypothesis if m measures
of A be mixed with » measures of B, the two
VOL, V, FF
544 On the Constitution of mixed Gases; ee
will occupy m-+n measures of space. The par-
ticles of A meeting with no repulsion from those
of B further than that repulsion which as .ob-
stacles in the way they may exert, wou!d instant-
ly recede. from each other as far.as possibléin
their circumstances, and consequently arrange
themselves just the same as in a void space;
their density, considered abstractedly, becoming
a , (that of the compound being supposed
m+n
unity). In like manner the particles of B must
recede from each other, till they become of the
n
density pL thus the two gases become ‘rare-
7 ;
fied to such degree that their united forces only
amount to the pressure of the atmosphere.—Here
the particles of one fluid not pressing at.all upon
those of the other, the consideration of specific
gravity does not enter. That part of the atmos-
pheric pressure which the fluid A sustains, will be
m
wea and the remainder,
ephek
aces the part that
the fluid B sustains, _The weight or pressure
upon any one particle of any fluid mixture of
this sort will arise solely from the particles of its
own kind.
It is scarcely necessary, I think, to insist upon
the application of this hypothesis to the solution
of ‘ali our difficulties respecting the constitution
of. mixed gases where no chemical union ensues.
On the Constitution of mixed Gases, Sc. 545
That moment we admit it every difficulty va-
nishes, and every fact appears a simple and
immediate consequence of it. The’ atmosphere,
or to speak more properly the compound of
atmospheres, may exist together in the most
intimate mixture, without any regard to their
specific gravities, and without any pressure upon
one another. Oxygenous gas, azotic gas, hy-
drogenous gas, carbonic acid gas, aqueous vapour»
and probably several other elastic fluids may
exist in company under any pressure and in any
temperature, whilst each of them, however para-
doxical it may appear, occupies the whole space
allotted for them all. For, the space with them
all-in it, is little more comparatively than a
vacuum ; such is the great tcnuity of all clastic
fluids,
I shall now proceed to make a few observa-
tions on that collected mas of elastic fluids con-
stituting our atmosphere, the principal of which
are the azotic atmosphere, the oxygenous atmos-
phere, the aqueous vapour atmosphere, the car-
bonic’ acid atmosphere and the hydrogencus at-
mosphere.
‘Before the modern discoveries in chemistry,
the atmosphere was considered as one simple
elastic fluid, sui generis, containing in it, by some
meéaus or other, certain foreign substances not
essentially but accidentally mixed with it. La-
546 On the Constitution of mixed Gases, Bc.
Voisier taught us there were two essentially
distinguishable fluids to be found in it, and
certain other substances accidentally or chemi-
cally combined with them; it now appears there
are at least four distinct elastic fluids found in
every portion of atmospheric air subject to exa-
mination. And these, for aught that appears,
are totally independent one of another; so
much that if anyone of them was wholly with.
drawn from the surface of the earth, the rest
would not at all be affected by the circumstance,
either in their density or situation; or if an
atmosphere of another kind were added to them,
they would still retain their respectiye stations
and densities, provided that added had no che-
mical affinity for any one of them in the com.
mon temperature.
The azotic atmosphere is by far the largest
and densest of them all: it supports the mercury
in the barometer at a medium nearly 21. 2
inches: it is the same in quantity all over the
surface of the earth; because not condensible
into a liquid form at any temperature found
there.
The oxygenous atmosphere is the next in quan- :
tity; its pressure on the surface of the earth
amounts to about 7, 8 inches at a medium; it
is the same nearly in quantity every where, be-
On the Constitution of mixed Gases, Sc. 547
cause it preserves its elasticity in all observable
temperatures.
The aqueous vapour atmosphere is variable in
quantity according to temperature; in the torrid
zone its pressure on the surface of the earth is
equal to the force of ,6 and from that to one
inch of mercury. In these parts it rarely
amounts to a pressuse of ,6, but I have fre.
quently observed it above half an inch in sum.
mer; in winter it is sometimes so low as to be
of no more force than ,1 of an inch of mercury,
or even half a tenth, in this latitude, and conse-
quently niuch less where the cold is more se-
vere.* This want of equilibrium in the aqueous
vapour atmosphere is a principal cause of that
constant inundation of it into the temperate and -
frigid zones, where it be comes in part condensed
in its progress by the cold, like the vapour of
distillation in the worm of a refrigeratory, and
supplies the earth with rain and dew.
The carbonic acid atmosphere has not perhaps
been accurately ascertained in quantity; it is
found every where in a small proportion, not
- being condensible into a liquid by the usual de-
gree of cold; its pressure may probably amount
to half an inch of mercury.
* The means of ascertaining its quantity or pressure
will be given hereafter,
548 On the Constitution of mixed Gases, Fe.
The hydrogenovs atmosphere is so small in
quantity as scarcely to be at all appreciable ; yet,
as various processes on the surface of the earth
disengage this gas, and as it ‘mixes with all ‘the
other gases constituting the atmosphere without
combining with any, or rising above them, we
ought to find a proper hydrogenous atmosphere.
Perhaps we have got no tests for ascertaining
very small quantities of it..
Lavoisier: describes the’ atmosphere to be
* a compound of all the fluids which.are sus-
** ceptible of the vaporous or permanently elas-
tic state in the usual temperature, and wnder
** the common pressure.” This last limitation
should be omitted; he seems moreover to con-
ceive that atmospheric pressure is the cause why
water retains its liquid form at the common tem-
perature: this notion is certainly wrong; were
every atmosphere, except that of aqueous vapour,
instantly annihilated, little addition would ‘be
made to the aqueous atmosphere, because it al-
ready exists in every place, almost entirely up
to what the temperature will admit; the eva-
poration of water would be essentially'the same
in that case!as it is at present; only the full
effect would take place in less time. In short
this notion of pressure preventing the evapora-
tion of liquids, which seems to have been taken
$e
On the Constitution of mixed Gases, Sc. 549
as an axiom by modern philosophers, has been
the cause of more error and perplexity perhaps
than any other ungrounded opinion.
Lavoisier thought that; in the higher regions
of the atmosphere a stratum of inflammable fluid
exists in which the aurora borealis and other
fiery appearances are produced; this opinion is
plausible enough; but that fluid cannot be hy-
drogenous gas, because its particles are not repul-
sive of those of the other atmospheric gases, as
appears by its intimate and almost instantaneous
diffusion amongst them.
There may be gases in the higher regions of
which we have not the principles below, the
whole stock of matter being spent in their for-
mation; and being constituted of particles repul-
sive of those of the atmosphere, according .to
the first or second hypothesis, and of less specific
gravity than the other gases, they. must float
upon the surface of the common .atmosphere,
and consequently for ever elude the investigation
of philosophy. He.observes that even metallic
substances may be found within the regions of
the atmosphere: I have myself shewn,.. in
my Meteorological Essays, page 180, that a
fluid possessing magnetic properties constantly
holds a place in the higher regions of the atmos-
phere, and which therefore we cannot help con-
540 Onthe Constitution of mixed Gases, Bec.
sidering of a ferruginous quality; but it will
probably ever be beyond the reach of philoso=
phical research to ascertain the nature of so
subtile and distant a fluid.
ESSAY II.
-
On the Force of Steam or Vapour from Water
and various other Liquids, both in a Vacuum and
an Air.
SECTION Ie
On Vapour in Vacuo.
The term steam or vapour is equally applied to
those elastic fluids which, by cold and pressure
of certain known degrees, are reduced wholly
or in part into a liquid state. Such are the elastic
fluids arising from water, alkohol, ether, am-
monia, mercury, &c. Other elastic fluids that
cannot be reduced, or rather that have not yet
been reduced, into a liquid state by the united
agency of those two powers, are commonly
denominated gases. There can scarcely be a
doubt entertained respecting the reducibility of
of all elastic fluids of whatever kind into liquids;
and we ought not to despair of effecting it in
low temperatures and by strong pressure exerted
On the “Force of Steam or Vapour, €3¢. 55k
Upon the unmixed gases. However unessential
the distinction between the gases and vapours
may be in a chemical sense, their mechanical
action is very different. By increasing the quan-~
tity of any gas in a given space the force of it is
Proportionally inereased; but increasing ‘the
quantity of any liquid in a giyen space does not
at all affect the force of the vapour arising from
it, On the other hand, by increasing the tem-
perature of any gas a proportionate increase of
elasticity ensues; but when the temperature of
a liquid is increased, the force of vapour from
it is increased with amazing rapidity, the incre.
ments of elasticity forming a kind of geometrical
Progression, to the arithmetical increments of
heat.—Thus, the ratio of the elastic force of
_ atmospheric air of 32°to that at 212°, is nearly
as 5: 73 but the ratio of the force of aqueous
vapour proceeding from water of 32° and 212°,
is as 1: 150 nearly,
The object of the present essay is to determine
the utmost force that certain vapours, as that
from water, can exert at different temperatures.
_ The importance hitherto attached to this enquiry
has arisen chiefly from the consideration of steam
asa mechanical agent; and this has directed the
attention more especially to high temperatures.
But it will appear from what follows that the
VOL. y, GG
552 On the Force of Steam or Vapcur
progress of philosophy is more immediately in
terested in accurate observations on the force of
steam in low temperatures. Different authors
have published accounts of their experiments
on the force of steam: I have ona former occa-
sion (Meteorological Essays, page 134) given a
table of forces for every 10° from 80° to 212%
The author of the article ‘* Steam” in the’ En-
cyclopedia Britannica, has: done the-same from
32° to 280°: and M. Betancourt, in the ‘* Me-
moirs des jscavans etrangeres” for 1790, (see
Hutton’s Math, Diction. page 755) has’ given
tables on’ the subject, both for’ vapour from
water and spirit of wine, also from 32° to 280°.
But these two authors, having assumed the force
of vapour from water of 32° to be nothing, are
essentially wrong at that point and in all the lower
parts of the scale; and in the higher part, or that
above 212°, they determine the force too much ;
owing as I apprehend to a quantity of air, which
being disengaged from the water by heat and
mixing withthe steam, increases the elasticity.—In
a question of such moment it seemed therefore
' desirable to obtain greater accuracy.
My method is this: I take a barometer tube
perfectly dry, and fill it with mercury just boiled,
marking the place where it is stationary ; then
having graduated the tube into inches and tenths
by means of a file, I pour a little water (or any
from Water and other Liquids, Sc. 53
other liquid the subject. of experiment) into it,
so as to moisten the whole inside; after this I
again pour in mercury, and, carefully inverting
the tube, exclude all air: the barometer by
Standing. some time exhibits a portion of water,
&c, of or of an inch upon the top of the
mercurial column; because being lighter it as-
cends by the side of the tube; which may now
be inclined and the mercury will rise to the top
manifesting a perfect vacuum from air. I next
take a cylindrical glass tube open at both ends,
of 2 inches diameter and 14 inches in length; to
each end of which a cork is adapted, perforated
in the middle so as to admit the barometer tube
to be pushed through and to be heid fast by them;
the upper cork is fixed two or three inches below
the top of the tube and is 2 cut away soas to
admit water, &c. to pass by; its service being
merely to keep the tube steady, ‘Things being
thus circumstanced, water of any temperature
may be poured into the wide tube, and thus
made to surround the upper part or vacuum of
the barometer, and the effect of temperature in
the production of vapour within can be observed
from the depression of the mercurial column.
In this way I have had water as high as 155°
surrounding. the vacuum: butas the higher tem-
peratures might endanger a glass apparatus;
jnstead of it I used the following :—
554 On the Force of Steam or Vapour
Having procured a tin tube of 4 inches in di-
ameter and 2 feet long, with a circular plate of
the same soldered to one end having a round
hole in the centre, like the tube of a reflecting
telescope, I got another smaller tube of the
same length soldered into the larger, so as to be
in the axis or centfe of it: the small tube was
open at both ends, and on this construction water
could be poured into the large vessel to fill it,
whilst the central tube was exposed to its tem-
perature. Into this central tube I could insert
the upper half of a syphon barometer, and fix it
by a cork, the top of the narrow tube also being
corked: thus the effect of any temperature un-
der 212° could be ascertained, the depression of
the mercurial column being known by the ascent
in the exterior leg of the syphon.
The force of vapour from water, between 86
and 212° may also be determined by means of
an air-pump ; and the results exactly agree with
those determined as above, Take a Florence
flask half filled with hot water, into which in-
sert the bulb of a thermometer; then cover the
whole with a receiver on one of the pump plates,
and place a barometer gage on the other; the
air being slowly exhausted, mark both the thers
mometer and barometer at the moment ebullition
commences, and the height of the barometer
gage will denote the force of vapour from
i ne
Srom Water and other Liquids, Sc. 555 -
water of the observed temperature. This me-
thod may also be used for other liquids. {[t
may be proper to observe the various thermo-
meters used in these experiments were duly ad.
justed to a good standard one.
After repeated experiments by all these me-
thods, and a careful comparison of the results,
I was enabled to digest the following table of
the force of steam from water in all the temper-
atures from 32° to 212°,
Two important enquiries still remained: the
first, to determine the force of steam from water
above 212° and below 32°; the second, to deter-
mine the comparative forces of vapour from
other liquids, These enquiries seemed indepen-
dent of each other; notwithstanding which I
found them in reality connected.
Upon examination of the numbers in the table
within the limits just mentioned, there appears
something like a geometrical progression in the
forces of vapour; the ratio however, instead of
being constant, is a gradually diminishing one:
thus, the force at 32°= —,200 inch.
17. 50
at iz2°== 3. 500 Ratios
8. 57
212°= 30, 000
556 On the Force of Steam or Vapour
If we divide these ratios, according to obser.
vation, they will stand thus: *
Force’ at *32°= ,200 inch.
4-° $50
77= siygto
3. 846
422°= 3. 500 Ratios
3. 214
167° = 11, 250
2. 666)
212° = 30. 000
If we divide these again, they become ;
Forceat 32° = 5200 inch.
ee
542 = 2435
2, 09
SW Roa 29190
2. 00
99% = 1. 820
1. 92
122° = 3. 500 \- Ratios
1, 84
144% = 6. 450
- 1. 75
167° = 11. 250
Mer Neg
189°: — 18. 800
1. 59.
212° = 30. 000
By another division we obtain the ratios for
from Water and other Liquids, Se. | 587
every 11°: of pcs indica from 32° to 212° as
under:
Force at 32° = —_,200 inch.
£7485)
435 = 9297
1. 465
64; = 2435
1. 45
653 = 3630 —
1. 44
i (a 3910
14:43
883 — 1. 290 [
Dated t
997 == 1. 820 | : :
12°40
1 Qgez, 24540 cho:
1. 38
122. ==. 3. 500 Ratios
.136
133%== 4- 760
Age
1441-—— 6. 450
I. 33 |
1553—= 8. 550
1.32
167 6234 Le BGaot a
1. 30
178: == 14. 600
1, 29
189? = 18. 800
1, 27
200% == 24. 000
1.25 |
21424 80, 000
558 On the Force of Steam or Vapour
Thus it appears that a ratio having a uniform
decrease nearly takes place; and we may there-
fore extend the table of forces at both extremes,
without the aid of experiment, to a considerable
distance. Thus, assuming the ratios for each
interval of 11°F below 32° to be, 1. 500, 1. 515,
I. 530, 1. 545, &c. and foreach interval above
212° to be 1.235, 4. 220, 1. 205, 1. 1905
1.175, 1.160, 1.145, 1.130, &c. we can
extend the table many intervals of temperature,
and determine all the intermediate degrees by
interpolation. This method may be relied upon
as a near approximation; however it does not
supersede the expediency of determination by
experiment; though that is much more difficult
above 212°, and below 32°, than in the inter-
mediate degrees: because it is dfficult to procure
a steady heat above 212°; and below 32° the
variation of force becomes so small as to elude
_ minute discrimination. It will appear from what
follows that the extension of the table by this
method above 212° is in all probability accurate,
or very nearly so, for 100° or more,
_ from Water and other Liquids, Sc. 559
TABLE
Of the Force of Vapour from Water in every temperature
from that of the congelation of Mercury, or 40° below zero
of Fahrenheit, to 325°.
PE Ea OER roi Ups at Te tanes BE
« Mercury. F Mercury. F Mercury.
EAD ee | ONS IES, . eee) LOSHEGA: «noes
BGO. gpa lie.' a SON Omg, sagas
0+ a, NORDIN, et SRR ees 39D
SID pose, GASINUS ye i LOD 7 SP
(9a hk ene.) OAS
Wie | O6ANOO POSH. bag
Rete” OGG see 1 19S RG. 968
mee eee. Gane Soo Meili ay (MUR | long
ars. oregano Yeates | ot Sage
A gt OFAN OA eee SOA. — |) 08
BO facta it PGI laa | / TEENA ee 8. Oe
6 ———._ 0791126 ———.. ,162||45, ————_ ,316
Pi ORONO a VES AG eee SEB
Bir s pes NOR) alae | ge
eee et og aT eGags |” ae
Bt) 2a OREO ane 1 BCU ig: >, 9a
SS? OTe aS) Ps; a
12) 2 (096 - 51 ——— ,388
Rate. a Tao 20052 ———— _,401
14 ——- ,104/133 ——— ,207/|53 ——— .4ld
VOL... Ve Hi
560 On the Force of Steam or Vapour
TABLE CONTINUED.
pe ag a at | mer eae tee | ier oie
Mercury. Mercury Mercury. -*
54. ,429 |] 82. F-07180 aaa ae
55, ase ,443|| 93 1, 10,11 12 onl
56° ———__,458]| 84 ——_]. 14 || 112 ———. 2. 68
5ST — 6474 |) 85. ———1.. 17 11 113 ——— 2. 76°
58 =-——— ,490|| §6 ———1. 921 || 114 ———— 2. 84
59 ——— = ,507|/ 87 ———1. 24 || 115 ———- 2. 92
60 ——— ,524|/ 88 ———1, 28 || 116 ——— 3, 00
61 — = 542] g9:\ 1, 92. |] 117 +g, 8
62 —— ,560|| 90'———1. 36 || 118 ——— 3. 16
63 —— ,578|| 91 ———-I. 40 || 119 ——— 3. 25
64 —— ,597|| 92 ———1. 44 || 120 ——— 3. 33
65 ———— ,G616|| 93 ~—--].. 4g || 121 ————. 3. 42
66 ——— ,635|| 94 ———1. 53 || 122 ——— 53. 50
67 —— ,655|] 95 ~——1, 58 |} 123 ———_.- 3. 59
68 ————. ‘e76| 96 ———1. 63 || 124 ———— 3. 69
69 ——— ,698|] 97 1. 6g || 125 ———- 3. 79
70 “———+ ,721|| 9g ——1, 74 || 126 ——— 3. 89
PAS 7b gg. oe Sa fey ip
72° ————=_" 5,770] 100 ——---1, 86°] 128° ——_==>_ 4, Tl
73. ——— °,796! 10] ————-1. 92 || 129 ——-—- 4, 22
7k ——— — ,823/] 199, ——-—1. 98 || 1390 ——— 4. 34
15 ————" 85141 103 8. 4 131" ae
TE” -aeenmeee 880 1 104 eg, 1 1° || 192 — ago
OF + —atenie 5910) 105 9, 18° 133 2/4, 7s
78 -———— " ,940|| 106 ————2, 25 |1134 ——— 4, _86
79 ——— ,971'/107 9, $2 1135 ———~. 5. 00
80 LOO") 168) Ss: 39 || 136 —— 5. 14
81 ———1. 04 |] 109 2) 46 || 137 ——— 5, 29
SEV eee .
From Water and other Liquids, ce. 561
TABLE CONTINUED.
Tempere Force of Vap:
ature. in inches of
; c Mercury,
138 5. 44
W992 == 5.59
tpi 5.74
141 ——— 5. 90
ido — 6, 05
Fag.00 G9}
[440 G.'5
145 ——— 6. 53
146 ——= 6. 70
147-6: 87
p36 nr ps
149 2 7:25
So ——-7.°49
4502! 7, Gj
LT Reema ab
ne 8 Ol
154 ———. 8, 20
155 8. 40
16 —— 8.60
isp SS g's]
158° 9. 09
59'S 904
160.——— 9,46
is). | Lge
162 ———. 9. 91
163 10, 15
164 10, 41
165 10. 68
BUREN nsec aril,” uke; in (ache tt
Mercury. Mercury,
166 10. 96|| 194 20, 77
167 ———11. 25||195 21, 22
168 ———11. 54]|196 21. 68
169 ———11. 83]|197 29, 13
170 ———12. 13||198 22, 69
171 —-—12, 43||199 23. 16
172 ———12, 73||200 23, 64
173 ——-13. 02||201 24, 12
174 13. 32||202 ———24. 61
175 13. 621/203 25. 10
176 13. 92]/204 25. 61
177 14, 22||205 ———26. 13
178 ———14, 52/1206 96, 66
179 ———14. 83||207 ———~97. 26
180 15. 15|)208' ——-~97. 74
181 ———~i5. 50|!209 —_——28. 29
182 ———15, 86]|210 ———9s, 84
193 16. 23]]211 29, 4]
184° -=16,'61,] 912 ====30. 09
185 ———=17. 00 |) cs
186 17. 40|213 ———30. 60
187 17. 60/214 ———=31. 21
188 is, 90215 ———=31. 83
189 ———18. 60||216 32. 46
190 ——-—-19, 00/|217 ———33. 09
191 19. 42||218 33. 72
192 ———19, 86||219 34. 35
193 m0, 34, 99
562
Tp Pe
Mercury,
Gaineee—35:,63
992 ————36.. 25
293 ——-—26. 88!
994 ———37. 53
225 ———38.. 20
296 ————38.. 89
297 39. 59
298 40. 30
99 aA 9
230 eA 05
231 42, 49
232 ———43.. 24
233 ———44. 00
234 4b, 78
235 A5. 58
236 46. 39
237 47. 20
238 48. 02
239 ———18. 84
240 49. 67
241 50. 50
249 51. 34
243 59. 18
O44 53, 03
CY ise eimelS TY
246 ———54. 68
247 55. 54
248 ———56. 49
On the Force of Steam or Vapour ©
TABLE CONTINUED.
Temper-
ature,
Force of Vap.
in inches of
Mercury,
1 EE 2
Baie 5S,
251 ———59.
G52) a ——-60,
253 61.
254-61,
255 ———62,.
256 63.
257 ———G64.
258 65.
259 ————-66;
260 ———67.
261 — 68.
262 ———69.
263 70.
264 rhe
265 72
266) 47 8
367 ———74;
268° 755
269 ———76,
270 ———77.
71 ———78.
272 ———79.
273 80.
O74 82,
O75 wee 833
O96 eee Bhi,
31
21
12
05
00
99
85
76
82
78
75
73
72
72
94
| Temper-
ature,
Force of Vap,
in inches of
16 .
Mercury.
277-——— 85. 47
|278-——_ 86. 50
279 87. 63
|280———. 88.75
281. 89. 8T
982 90, 99
989-—- = 99041
284. 93. 23
285——— 94, 95
286-95. 48
287———_ 96, 64
968... 97. 80
289-_—. 98, 96
290-100. 12
'291—101.. 28
||, 292-102, 45
293-103, 63
294. 104, 80
295-1105.) 97
296 107. 14
297 108, 31
|298 109, 48
299 110, 64
300 Lif e8
201 pa — 119 ek
1302 114,
303 115, 32
304 116, 50
from Water and other Liquids, &c. 563
TABLE CONTINUED,
Sead Yio Tented GREED! Ge MERGE cee 7) RGESELE:
Mercury. Mercury? a Mercury.
305- 117. 68 |[312- 125. 851) 319- 133. 86
306 118. 861313 127, 00] 320-135. 00
307 120, 03 ||314 128. 15] 321 ———-136. 14
208— 121. 201/915-1129, 29] 329 137, 28
309 122, 37 11316 ——-—130, 43] 323-138. 42
310 123. 53 1|317 131. 574| 324-139. 56
Sil 124. 69 ||318——_——-132, 72{| 325-140, 70
On Vapour from Ether, &c.
We come now to the consideration of vapour
from other liquids. Some liquids are known to
_ be more evaporable than water; as, liquid am-~
monia, ether; spirit of wine, &c. others less ;
as, quicksilver, sulphuric acid, liquid muriate of
lime, solution of potash, &c. and it appears that
the force of vapour from each in a vacuum is
proportionate to its evaporability: M. Betan-
court maintains that the force of vapour from
spirit of wine is in a constant ratio to that from
water at all temperatures; namely, as 7 to3
neatly. My first experiments with spirits of
wine led me to adopt this conclusion, and natu-
rally suggested that the force of vapour from
any other liquid would bear a constant ratio to’
564 On the Force of Steam or Vapour
that of water. The principle however is not
true, either with regard to spirit of wine or any
other liquid. Experiments made upon six diffe-
rent liquids agree in establishing this as a ge-
neral law ; namely, that the variation of the force
of vapour from all liquids is the same for the same
wariation of temperature, reckoning from vapour
of any given force: thus, assuming a force equal
to 30 inches of mercury as the standard, it being
the force of vapour from any liquid boiling in the
open air, we find aqueous vapour loses half its
force by a diminution of 30° of temperature ; so
does the vapour of any other Jiquid lose half its
force by diminishing its temperature 30° below
that in which it boils; and the like for any other
increment or decrement of heat. This being
the case, it becomes unnecessary to give distinct
tables of the force of vapour from different
liquids, as one and the same table is sufficient for
all_—But it will be proper to relate the experi.
ments on which this conclusion rests, |
Experiments on Sulphuric Ether.
The ether I used boiled in the open air at
102°.—I filled a barometer tube with mercury,
moistened by agitation in ether. After a few
minutes a portion of ether rose to the top of the
mercurial column, and the height of the column _
became stationary, When the whole had acquired
From Water and other Liquids, ce. 565
ihe temperature of the air in the room, 62°, the
mercury stood at 17. 00 inches, the barometer
at the same time being 29. 75. Hence the force
of vapour from ether at 62°is equal to 12. 15
inches of mercury, which accords with the force
of aqueous vapour at 172°, temperatures which
are 40° from the respective boiling points of the
liquids. By subsequent observations I found the
forces of the vapour from ether in all the diffe.
rent temperatures from 32° to 102° exactly cor-
responded with the forces of aqueous vapour of
the like range, namely from 142° to 212°: the
vapour from ether depresses the mercury about
6 inches in the temperature of g2°.
Finding that ether below the point of ebullition
agreed with water below the said point, I naturally
concluded that ether above the point would give
the same force of vapour as water above it; and
in this I was not disappointed ; for, upon trial
it appeared that what I had inferred only from
analogical reasoning respecting the force of aque-
ous vapour above the boiling poinr, actually
happened with that from ether above the said
point. And ether isa much better subject for
experiment in this case than water, because it
does not require so high a temperature.’
I took a barometer tube of 45 inches in length,
and having sealed it hermetically at one end,
bent it into a syphon shape, making the legs pa-
566 Onthe Force of Stcam or Vapour
rallel, the one that was close being g inches long,
and the other 96. Then conveyed two or three
drops of ether to the end of the closed leg, and
filled the rest-of the tube with mercury, except
about 10 inches at the openend. This done, I
immersed the whole of the short leg containing
the ether into a tall glass containing hot water ;
the ether thus exposed to a heat above the tem-
perature at which it boils, produced a vapour
more powerful than the atmosphere, so as to
overcome its pressure and raise a column of mer-
cury besides, of greater or less length accerding ©
to the temperature of the water. When the
water was at 147° the vapour raised a column of
35 inches of mercury, when the atmospheric
pressure was 29. 75: so that vapour from ether
of 147° is equivalent to a pressure of 64. 75
inches of mercury; agreeing with the force of
aqueous vapour of 257°, according to the pre-
ceding estimation: in both cases the temperatures
are 45° above the respective points of ebullition?
In all the temperatures betwixt 102 and 147°
the forces of ethereal vapour corresponded with
those of aqueous vapour, as per table, betwixt
212° and 257%. I could not reasonably doubt
of the equality continuing in higher temper-
atures; bnt the force increases so fast with the
increase of heat, that one cannot extend the exe
periments much farther without tubes of very
,?
from Water and other Liquids, Sc. 567
inconvenient lengths. Being destrous however
to determine the force of the ethereal vapour
experimentally up as high as 212°, I contrived
to effect it as follows:—Took a syphon tube such
as described above, only not quite so long, and
filled it in the manner above mentioned, with
ether and mercury, leaving about ten inches.at
the top of the tube vacant; then having gradu-
ated that part into equal portions of capacity, and
dried it from ether, I drew out the end of the tube
to acapillary bore, cooled it again so as to suffer
the internal atmospheric air tobe of the proper
density, and suddenly sealed the tube hermeti-
cally, thus inclosing air of a known force in the
graduated portion of the tube, Then, putting
that part of the tube containing ether into
boiling water, vapour was formed which forced
the mercurial column upwards and condensed
the confined air, till at length an equilibrium
took place. In this way I found 8. 25 parts of
atmospheric air of the force 29. 5 were con-
densed into 2. 00, at the same time a perpendi-
cular column of 16 inches of mercury in addition
pressed upon the vapour... Now the force of
elastic fluids being inversely as the space, we
have 2. 00 : 29. 5 :: 8. 25 : 121. 67 inches =
the force of the air within; to which adding 16
inches, we obtain 137. 67 = the whole force
VOL. Vv. It
568 Onthe Force of Steam or Vapour
sustained by the vapour, measured in inches of
mercury. The force of aqueous vapour, at the
same distance beyond the boiling point, or 322°,
is equal to 137. 28, per table. Thus it appears
_ that in every part of the scale on which experi-
“ments have been made, the same iaw of force is
observable with the vapour of ether as of water.
Experiments on Spirit of Wine.
By boiling a small portion of the spirit I used
(about one cubic inch) in a phial, the thermo~
meter stood at 179° at the commencement; but
by continuing the ebullition it acquired a greater
heat. The reason is, the most evaporable part
of the spirit flies off during the process of heat-
ing, and the rest being a weaker compound,
requires a stronger heat. The true point of
ebullition, I believe, was nearly 175°—The
force of the vapour from this spirit at the tem-
perature of 212°, I found both by an open sy-
phon tube and one hermetically sealed with
atmospheric air upon the mercurial column, as
with ether, to be equal to 585 inches of mercury,
This rather exceeds the force of aqueous vapour
at an equal distance from the boiling point ; but
it is no more than may be attributed to unavoid-
able little errors in such experiments. In a ba-
rometer tube the spirituous vapour at 60°, ever
the mercury, depresses the column about 1. 4
or 1.5 inches, which is something less than the
JSrom Water and other Liquids, &c. 569
due proportion; one cause of this may be the
evaporability of spirits, which in operating on
small quantities, quickly dissipates part of their
strength,
Experiments on Liquid Ammonia.
Liquid ammonia or volatile alkali, the specific
gravity of which was .9474, boiled near 140°;
in the barometer a small quantity depressed the
mercury 4. 3 inches in the temperature of 60°.
In higher temperatures it did not produce a
proportional depression ; because the most vola- »
tile part of the compound, expanding in the va-
cuum of the barometer, leaves the rest more
watery, and consequently its vapour must be
weaker; especially when the portion used is con-
fined toa drop or two.
Muriate of Lime.
Put a portion of liquid muriate of lime over
the column of mercury in a barometer. The
boiling point of the muriate was found by ex-
periment to be 230°, At 55° the depression
was ,22 of an inch:
at 65°—.30
a, A
ore Oey 7. QD
all which nearly agree with the forces of aqueous
vapour 18° below the respective temperatures.
570 — On the Force of Steam or Vapour
Mercury and Sulphuric Acid.
Metcury boils by my thermometer at 660",
and sulphuric acid of the specific gravity #. 83,
boils at 590°. It is very difficult to determine
the precise force of vapour from these liquids
in any temperature under 212°; because at such
great distance from the boiling point the vapour
is so weak as to be in effect almost imperceptible.
Following the general law, the vapours of these
fluids ought to be of the force .1, mercury at
460°, and sulphuric acid at 390°.—Col. Roi -
makes the expansion of 30 inches mercury by
180" of heat = .5969 or .5651; and in a baro-
meter the expansion in the same circumstances
is .5117; the differences are .0852 and .0534
which should measure the effective force of mer-
curial vapour of 212°, nearly, This is in all
probability too much; as it is next to impos-
sible to free any liquid entirely from air; and if
any air enter the vacuum, it unites its force to
that of the mercurial vapour,
That the force of vapour from sulphuric acid,
in low temperatures, is exceedingly small, will
appear from the ensuing section,
Jrom Water and other Liquids, &c. 574
SECTION Il.
On Vapour in Air.
The experiments under this head were made
with manometers, or straight tubes of different
lengths, hermetically sealed at one end, of +5
inch internal diameter, and their capacities di-
vided into equal portions. A drop or two of
the liquid, the subject of experiment, was con-
veyed to the bottom or sealed end of the tube;
the internal surface was then dried by a wire and
thread, and atmospheric, (or any other air) was
admitted into the tube, upon which a column
of mercury was suspended of <4 of an inch, or
of go inches, less or more, according to the
nature of the experiment. By immersing the
end of the manometer, containing the air thus
circumstanced, into a tall glass vessel containing
water of any temperature, the effect of the
vapour in expanding the air could be perceived.
It was first indeed necessary to determine the in-
crease air unaffected by any liquid (except mer.
cury) would obtain by increase of temperature:
that was done, as will be particularly shewn in
the next essay. The expansion of all elastic .
fluids, it seems probable, is alike or nearly so,
572 On the Force of Sicam or Vapour
in like circumstances; 1000 parts of any elastic
fluid expands nearly in a uniform manner into
1370 or 1380 parts by 180° of heat,
It will be unnecessary to repeat in detail the
numerous experiments made on the various
liquids in all temperatures from 32° to 212°; as
the results of all agree in one general rule or
principle, which is this: let » represent the space
occupied by any kind of air of a given temper-
ature and free from moisture; p= the given
pressure upon it, in inches of mercury ; ¥ =the
force of vapour from any liquid in that temper-
ature, in vacuo; then, the liquid being admitted
to the air, an expansion ensues, and the space
occupied by the air becomes immediately, or
in a short time — 1+ 2 Fi or which is the same
+5 p
thing, — pay
Thus in water for instance :
Let p = 30 inches,
ff = 15 inches, to the given temp. 180°,
Then, os eo Coe The space ; or
eel aeaane wes Spee :
the air becomes of twice the bulk,
-If the temperature be 203°, f = 25, and the
space becomes 6 times as large as at first.
If p = 60 inches
f = go inches to the given temperature
Jrom Water and cther Liquids, e. 573
212°; then the space — ee —= 23 or water
o—30
under the pressure of 60 inches of mercury, and
at the temperature of 212°, produces vapour
which just doubles the se ie of air.
If ether be the instance: let the temperature
be equal 70°; then f — 15; and suppose
f = 30; in this case the colume of air is doubled ;
that is, ether of 70° being admitted to any por-
tion of air, dcubles its bulk.
The expansion of hydrogenous gas and atmos-
pheric air by the vapour of water is the same
for every temperature.
Sulphuric acid does not expand atmospheric
air to any sensible amount by the heat of boiling
water.
The theory of these facts is evident upon the
Principles laid down in the former essay: for
instance ; let it be required to explain the expe.
riment with water of 212° under a pressure of
60 inches. Here the air was condensed into the
space 1 by the pressure of 60 inches; but being
exposed to water of 212° a vapour arose from it
equal in force ta go inches; the air therefore ex-
panded tll its force also became = to 30 inches,
which was effected by doubling its volume: then
the vapour pressing with 30 inches force and the
air also with 30 inches force, the two together
support the pressure of 60 inches and the equi-
.
574 On the Force of Steam or Vapour
librium continues.—In short, in all cases the
vapour arises to a certain force, according to
temperature, and the air adjusts the equilibrium,
by expanding or contracting as may be required.
The notion of a chemical affinity subsisting be-
tween the gases and vapours of different kinds,
cannot at all be reconciled to these phenomena.
To suppose that all the different gases have the
same affinity for water might indeed be admitted
if we could not explain the phenomena without
it; but to go further, and suppose that water
combines with every gas’ to the same amount
as its vapour in vacuo; or in other words, that
the elasticity of the compound should be exactly
the same as if the two were separate, is certainly
going far to serve an hypothesis.
Besides, we must on this ground suppose that
all the gases have the same force of affinity
for any given vapour; a supposition that
cannot be admitted as having any analogy to
other established Jaws of chemical affinity.
ESSA¥ , ILI.
On Evaporation.
When a liquid is exposed to the air, it be-
comes gradually dissipated in it: the process
by which this effect is produced, we call evapo-<
ration.
On Evaporation. 575
Many philosophers concur in the theory of
. chemical solution: atmospheric air, it is said,
has an affinity for water; it is a menstruum
in which water is soluble to a certain degree,
It is allowed notwithstanding by all, that each
liquid is convertible into an elastic vapour in
vacuo, which can subsist independently in’ any
temperature; but as the utmost forces of these
vapours are inferior to.the pressure of the at~
mosphere in ordinary temperatures, they are
supposed to be incapable of existing in it in the
~ same way as they do in a. torricellian. vacuum :
hence the notion of \affinity is induced.—Ac-
cording to this theory of evaporation, atmos-
pheric air (and every other species of air for
aught that appears) dissolves water, alkohol,
ether, acids, and even metals. Water below
212° is chemically combined with the gases;
above 212° it assumes a new form, and becomes
a distinct elastic fluid, called steam: .whether
water first chemically combined with air, and
then heated above 212°, is detached from the
air Or remains with it, the advocates of the the-
ory have not determined.—This theory has al-
ways been considered as complex and attended
with difficulties; so much that M. Pictet
VOL, Vv. KK
576 On Evaporations
and others have rejected it, and adopted that:
which admits of distinct elastic vapours in the
atmosphere at all temperatures, uncombined with
either of the principal constituent gases 5» as
being much more simple and easy'of explication
than the other; though they do not remove the
grand: objection to it, arising from atmospheric
pressure. It has however’ been made to appear
in these essays, I presume, that the objection
to it from pressure, is itself founded upon an
ungrounded hypothesis.
Leaving the theory of evaporation for the
present, we shall proceed to the experiments.
The following positions have been established
by others, and need therefore only to be men-
- tioned here.
4. Some fluids evaporate much more quickly
than others,
2, ‘The quantity evaporated is in direct pro-
portion to the surface exposed, all other circum-
stances‘alike.
3. An increase of temperature in the liquid
is attended with an increase of evaporation, not
directly proportionable.
4. Evaporation is greater where there is
a stream of air than where'the air is stagnant.
5. Evaporation from water is greater the less
es i a eee
a
_- 2°.
sO
-On Evaporation. 577
the humidity previously existing in the atmos-
phere, all other circumstances the same.
The objects in view in this essay, are,
1. To determine the precise effect that a
variation of temperature has upon the quantity
evaporated,
2. To determine the ratio of evaporability
ef different fluids,
3. To find a rule by which the quantity and
effect of previous humidity in the air may be ©
ascertained,
4. From these and other facts to obtain a
true theory of evaporation.
On the Evaporation of Water at 212°,
I took a small cylindrical vessel of tin, its
diameter 3i and depth 2} inches; and having
fixed three pieces of wire to equidistant points
of the circumference, they were fastened together
at the top and the extremities bent into a hook,
by which the vessel might be suspended from
the end of a balance, &c. This done, the vessel
was nearly filled with water, which was then
made to boil over a‘small red fire in different
circumstances: it was held in the hand and
yemoved nearer to or further from the fire, so as ta
578 On Evaporation.
be kept just at the point 6f ebullition. In this
state the vessel and water were weighed true to
a grain, and the instant of time noted by a watch ;
then kept as above at 212° for ten minutes.or
more and again weighed: and the loss of water
by evaporation, per minute, was thus ascertained.
The experiments were repeated several. times
in the same as well as in different circumstances ;
and the results in no instance differed materially
when obtained in the same circumstances.
The least evaporation per minute was 30
grains: this was when the fire, or lamp, was in
the middle of a room, the doors and windows
shut, and the air calm,
The next degree was 35 grains per minute or
thereabouts: this was when the evaporating
vessel was over a small fire in the usual fire.
place; there being a moderate draught of air,
and the room close.
A brisker fire, causing a stronger current of
air up the chimney, gave from 35 to 40 grains
per minute.
When the windows of the room were open,
and a strong wind prevailed, the draught over
the fire was proportionally increased, and the
evaporation was from 40 to 45 grains per
minute.
> AE 62 RES ty ote sees
On Evaporation. 579
The extremes that have thus been noticed are
go and 45 grains per minute: but were the ex.
periment tried in the open air in high winds, I
am inclined to believe from a comparison of the
observations, that an evaporation of 50, 55 or
even 60 grains per minute might be observed,
~ On the Evaporation of Water below 212°.
I have frequently tried the evaporation at all
the temperatures below 212°: it would be tedi-
ous to, enter into detail of all the experiments,
but shall give the results at some remarkable
points. In all the high temperatures I used the
vessel above mentioned, keeping a thermometer
in it, by which I could secure a constant heat,
or at least keep it oscillating within narrow
limits.
‘The evaporation from water of 180° was from
18 to 22 grains per minute, according to circum-
stances; or about 4 of that at 212°,
At 164° it was about 4 of the quantity at the
boiling temperature ; or from 10 to 16 grains per
Minute, .
At 152° it was only ; of that at boiling; or
from 8 to 12 grains, according to circumstances, ~
580 On Evaporation.
_ The temperature of 144° afford + of the effect
at boiling ; 138° gave 2 bs GCE
Having previously to these experiments de-
termined the force of aqueous vapour at all the
temperatures under 212°, I was naturally led
to examine whether the quantity of water eva~
porated in a given time bore any proportion to
the force of vapour of the same temperature,
and was agreeably surprised to find that they
exactly corresponded in every part of the ther-
mometric scale: thus the forces of vapour at
212°, 180°, 164°, 152°, 144° and 138° are equal to
30, 15, 10, ya eit and 4 inches of
mercury respectively, and the grains of water
evaporated per minute in those temperatures
were 30, 15, 10, 7%, 6 and 5 also; or numbers
proportional to these. Indeed it should ‘be so
from the established Jaw of mechanics, that all
effects are proportional to the causes producing
them, . The atmosphere, it ‘should seem, ob
structs the diffusion of vapour, which would
otherwise be almost instantaneous, as in vacuo s
but this obstruction is overcome in. proportion
to the force of the vapour. The obstruction
however cannot arise from the weight of the
atmosphere, as has till now been supposed ; for
then it would effectually prevent any vapour
a
a. ee
On Evaporation. 5 ot
from arising under 212°: but it is caused by the
vis inertice- of the particles of air; and is similar
to that which a stream of water mects with in
descending amongst pebbles.
The theory of evaporation being thus mani-
fested from experiments in high temperatures,
I found that -if it was to be verified. by experi-
ménts in low temperatures, regard must be had
to the force of vapour actually,existing .in the
atmosphere at the ime. For instance, if water
of 59° were the subject, the force of vapour of
that temperature is ¢s of the force at 212°, and
one might expect the quantity of evaporation
4 also; but if it should happen, as it sometimes
does in summer, that an aqueous atmosphere to
that amount does already exist, the evaperation,
instead of being <> of that from boiling. water,
would be nothing at all: On the other hand, if the
aqueous.atmosphere were less than that, suppose
1 of it, corresponding to 39° of heat, then the.
effective evaporating force would be zs of that
from boiling water; in short, the - evaporating
force must be universally equal to that-of the
temperature of the water, diminished by that
already existing in the atmosphere. In order
to find the force of the aqueous atmosphere I
usually take a tall cylindrical glass jar, dry on .
582 On Evaporation.
the outside, and fill it with cold spring water
fresh from the well; if dew be immediately
formed on the outside, I pour the water out,
let it stand a while to increase in heat, dry the
outside of the glass well with a linen cloth, and
then pour the water in again; this operation is
to be continued till dew ceases to be formed,
and then the temperature of the water must be
observed; and opposite to it in the table (page
559) will be found the force of vapour in the
atmosphere. ‘This must be done in the opem
air, or at a window; because the air within is
generally more humid than that without. Spring
water is generally about 50°, and will mostly
answer the purpose the three hottest months in
the year: in other seasons an artificial cold
mixture is required.—The accuracy of the re-
sult obtained this way I think scarcely needs to
be insisted upon. Glass, and all other hard,
smooth substances I have tried, when cooled to
a degree below what the surrounding aqueous
vapour can support, cause it to, be condensed
on their surfaces into water. The degree of cold
is usually from 1 to 10 below the mean heat of
the 24 hours; in summer I have often observed
the point as high as 58° or 59°, corresponding
te $an inch of mercury in force, and once or
On Evaporation. 583
twice have seen it at 62°: in changeable and
windy weather it is liable to considerable fluc-
tuation; but this is not the place to enlarge
upon it.
For the purpose of observing the evaporation
in atmospheric temperatures I got two light tin
vessels, the one 6 inches in diameter and 3 inch
deep, the other 8 inches diameter and 3 inch
deep ; and made to be suspended from a balance,
like the former one. When any experiment
designed as a test of the theory was made, a
quantity of water was put into one of these
(generally the 6 inch one, which I preferred)
the whole was weighed to a grain; then it was
placed in an open window or other exposed
situation for 10 or 15 minutes, and again weigh-
ed to ascertain the loss by evaporation; at the
same time the temperature of the water was
observed, the force of the aqueous atmosphere
ascertained as above, and the strength of the
current of air noticed. From a great variety of
experiments made beth in the winter and sum-
mer, and when the evaporating force was strong
and weak, I have found the results entirely con-
formable with the above theory. The same
quantity is evaporated with the same evaporating
force thus determined, whatever be the temper-
ature of the air, as near as can be judged; but’
VOL. V. Lk
584 On Evaporation.
with the same evaporating force, a strong wind
will double the effect produced in a still atmos-
phere. Thus, if the aqueous atmosphere be
correspondent to 40° of temperature and the
air be 60°, the evaporation is the same as if the
aqueous atmosphere were at 60° of temperature
and the air 72°; and in a calm air the evapora-
tion froma vessel of 6 inches in diameter in
such circumstances would be about .g of a grain
per minute, and about 1. 8 grains per minute
in avery strong wind ; the different intermediate
quantities being regulated solely by the force of
the wind.
The following table exhibits the ratios and
quantity of water evaporated in each temper-
ature, derived from’ the preceding theory, and
confirmed by experiments, as far as they have
been extended. The first column expresses the
temperature; the second, the corresponding
force of vapour taken from the preceding table;
the other three columns give the number of grains
of water that would be evaporated from a surface
of 6 inches in diameter in the respective tem-
peratures, on the supposition of there being
previously no aqueous vapour in the atmos-
phere. These columns present the extremes and
the mean of evaporation, likely to be noticed,
or nearly such: for, the first is calculated upon
—<————<_ ee
On Evaporation. 585
the supposition of 35 grains loss per minute
from the vessel of 33 inches in diameter ;
the second, 45 and the third 55 grains per
Minute,
TABLE
Shewing the force of vapour, and the full evaporating
force of every degree. of temperature from 20° to 85°, ex-
pressed in grains of water that would be raised per minute
from a vessel of six inches in diameter, supposing there
were no vapour already in the atmosphere..
Seeapeapear: |) Force. of Yap. Evaporating Force in Grains.
ai2° aoe 120 }54 189
20° BD 02 .67 82
21 134 oD Ae 69 «53
22 139 56 i ae ee
23 144 58 73 91
24 »150 -60 77 O4
25 156 62 79 297
26 162° -65 .82 1, 02
27 “£168 .67 186 1, 05
28 ly 70 30 1. 10
29 ~.180 7 i93 1.83
$0 «186 74 95 Pag 7
31 193 77 99 1}. 21
32 «200 80 1. 03 1. 26
33 +207 83 1. O7 i oe
586 On Evaporation:
TABLE CONTINUED.
Temperature. Force of Vap. Evaporating Force in Grains.
212° - 90 120 154 189
Reba Cod 1 SS ie hh
34° 214 86 rete 1, 35
35 221 .80 1. 14 1. 39
36 229 92 1, 18 1, 45
37 £237 95 1, 22 1, 49
38 2245 .98 1. 26 1. 54
89 254 1. 02 1. 31 1. 60
40 . .263 1. 05 1. 35 1. 65
At 407% 1. 09 1, 40 Lil.
42 283 Las 1, 45 1.-%3
43 * 294 1248 1. 51 1, 85
A4. 305 1,'22 fe SF 1, 92
45 316 1. 26 1 ,..62 1, 99
46 327 beat 1. 68 ‘2.08
47 339 1. 36 1. 75 2.13
48 ee | 1. 40 1. 80 2.20
49 -363 1. 45 1. 86 2. 28
50 0375 1. 50 1, 92 2. 36
$1 .38S 1. 55 1. 99 2, 44
ie) 401 1. 60 2. 06 2.51
oS ALS 1. 66 25°13 2.61
54 -429 1. 71 2, 20 2. 69 |
55 443 1. 77 2, 28 2. 78
SG. fon” AGS 1, 83 2. 35 2. 88
357 AT4 1. 90 2. 43 2. 98
58 .490 1. 96 D052 3. 08
59 507 2. 03 2. 61 3. 19
60 524 10 2. 70 3. 30
61 542 217 2
. 79 3. 41
On Evaporation.
TABLE CONTINUED,
587
Temperature.
212°
62°
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
79
83
Force of Vap. ||
30 120
1560 2. 24
.578 2. 31
597 2. 39
616 2. 46
.635 2. 54
655 2. 62
.676 2. 70
.698 2. 79
721 2. 88
TAS 2. 98
.770 3. 08
.796 3. 18
823 3. 29
851 3. 40
.880 3. 52
910 3. 65
.940 3. 76
971 3. 88
1, 00 4, 00
1. 04 4. 16
1. 07 4, 28
1. 10 4, 40
1. 14 4. 56
L 17 4, 68
150
2. $8
97
07
16
w o © 6 o
Cp ae ee ee
Ss
4 8
o &
ow
o Oo
a og
°
& &
TS Mee gid ol asp es
o> 00
Gr ©
Bet So
ao
ron
Evaporating Force in Grains.
182
OE ~ w
Pees eee
588 On Evaporation.
_ The use of this table will appear from the
following problems :
PROBLEM I.
Having given the temperature at which the
aqueous atmosphere begins to be condensed into
water, and the temperature of the air, to find
the quantity of water that would be evaporated
in a minute from a vessel of 6 inches diameter.
Solution. Subtract the grains opposite to
the lower temperature from those opposite to
the higher one, in the first, second or third
column of grains, according to the strength
of the wind, and the remainder will be the
quantity evaporated in a minute, under those
circumstances, nearly,
Example. Let the point of condensation be
52°, the temperature of the air 65°, with a mo-
derate breeze,
The number opposite 52°in the second column
of grains is 2. 06, and that opposite 65° is 3. 16;
the difference, 1, 1 grain, is the evaporation
per minute.
PROBLEM Ii.
Having given the quantity evaporated in a
minute, found by experiment, and the temper-
ature of the air, to find the force of the aqueous
atmosphere, and the point of condensation.
~
ee
ae ve
“aye? ©
SS ee Pee
ee a
On Evaporation. — 589
Solution. Subtract the observed evaporation
from that opposite the given temperature in the
table; and look above for the number nearest
to the remainder in the same column of evapor-
ation, opposite to which will be found the force
of the aqueous atmosphere, and the point at
’ which it begins to be condensed. ,
Example. Finding the evaporation from a
vessel of 6 inches in diameter to be 1. 7 grain
per minute with a brisk wind, air 62°; what is
the weight of the aqueous atmosphere, and the
‘temperature at which it begins to be condensed
into water ? ;
The number opposite 62° in the third column
of grains is 3. 52, being the whole evaporating
force at that temperature in a perfectly dry at-
mosphere; from which take 1.7 grains, the
real evaporating force observed, and the remain-
der, 1. 82, corresponds, as per table, to the
force .294 inches of mercury, the weight of
vapour, and to 43° of temperature*,
* It may be proper to remind the reader that all the
experiments on evaporation are understood to be madé
in the open air, or ina window with a current inward 5
also it may be observed the evaporation in a close room
is much less and is besides irregular, being greater pro-
portionably from a less surface, evidently from the stag-
~ nation of the air,
§90 On Evaporation.
_ Evaporation of Spirits, Ether, &c.
If the law of evaporation abave given apply
to water in every part of the scale of heat, no
reasonable doubt can be entertained respecting
its application to other liquids. I have not-
withstanding made several experiments on others,
the results of which are conformable to the same
law. Some of them follow :—
1. Spirit of wine.—Evaporated from a sur-
face of 4 inches in diameter, 54 grains in 25
Minutes: air 53°; aqueous atmosphere at 49°,
and beginning to rain with a moderate breeze.
It would proportionally have been 121 grains
from a vessel of 6 inches in diameter. This gives
nearly 5 grains per minute. The same spirit
boiled at or near 180°.
Now from the data, water of 83° is equivalent
in force to spirits of 59°: and it may be seen
that the evaporating force of water of 83° is
nearly 5 in the first and second columns of grains
of the table. It seems probable that the
aqueous atmosphere does not diminish the evapo-~
ration of spirits as it does that of water.
2. Ether. 1. Puta phial containing ether,
and a small tin vessel of 13 inch diameter into a
scale and balanced them exactly: then poured
the ether into the evaporating vessel and put
On Evaporation. 5gt
the phial into the scale again; took out 40 grains
from the opposite scale, and waited till the equi-
librium was restored: this was in 8 minutes 6
seconds. The air was 50°, and the ether at
first 50°; but it rapidly sunk, as was found by
dipping a very small bulbed thermometer into
it, to. 28°. In a window with a_ moderate
breeze.
2and 3. Repeated the experiment, in the
same circumstances, except the evaporating ves-
sel, which was now porcelain, and 23 inches
diameter. Lost 40 grains in 3 minutes.. Ther.
mometer sunk from 50 to 30°... The two experi.
ments made this way did not differ above one or
two grains.
_ These results reduced toa vessel. of 3? inches
in diameter give
1st. Experiment, loss 17 grains. per - minute;
2&3 — 222
. The reason why the result in the. first-experi-
ment was something less than in the other two,
was evidently owing to the circumstance of its
longer duration, by which the ether was the
greater part of the time in a low temperature,
and consequently evaporated less\—The ether
used boiled at 102°. At 50° it was therefore in the
capacity of water at 160°, But water at 160°, at most
loses only 17 or 18 grains per minute, and less
VOL, V. M M
§92 On Evaporation. :
20° below that temperature. At first view theres
fore it should seem that ether evaporates quicker
than the general law assigns.—But it must be
allowed that the temperature of the air has some
effect upon evaporation, though it has certainly
very little. Now ether in the above experi-
ments is acted upon by a current of air of an
equal or higher temperature than itself; but
water of 160° is usually acted upon by air 100”
lower than itself, which is every moment pre-
cipitating the vapour formed, and thus ob-
structing its circulation. This appears to be
a sufficient cause for the small difference ob-
served.
With respect to mercury, sulphuric acid,
muriate of lime, &c. there can be no doubt
but they experience a real evaporation like those
above; but it must be very small in proportion
as their boiling points are high. And it would
be difficult to make experiments upon ‘such of
these as have an affinity for aqueous vapour ;
because their acquisition from the aqueous at-
mosphere would far exceed their loss by eva~
poration.
\
Since writing the above essay, opportunities
have occurred to ascertain whether the evapor-
ation from ice is conformable to the same law
as that from water. Every one, who has tried
the experiment, admits the fact that ice is eva-
On Evaporation. . 3893
porable.—I have lately made several observa-
tions on this subject, the results of which, as far
as they go, support the conclusion that the ge-
neral law of evaporation continues the same
below the point of congelation as above it. All
the experiments were made in the tin vessel
above described of 6 inches in diameter; a
quantity of water was suffered to freeze in it, so
as to form a circular cake of ice; the vessel
and ice were then weighed together, and exposed
in the open air fora certain time, after which
being again weighed, the loss was found; the
force of the aqueous atmosphere was sometimes
determined during the experiment by a mixture
“of pounded ice and salt, in the manner already
described,
Crs. H. Gre, Wind. Air.
Nov. 5.In the night lost 110 in 9 ; or, .20 perm. N.E. brisk. 28° to 31°
—— atl0 A.M. — 25in 12;o0r,.33 —— N.E. mod. 32°
—29.at 1 P.M. — 24in 14; or, .23 —— calm. 31°
P.M. — 84in 92; or, .15 —— 30°
——30. in the night —- 94in 9 ; or,.17 —— N.E.mod. 31°
Dec.19. P.M. — 75in 8 ;0r,.16 —— N.E.caim, 26o-—28°
Inthe night— 33in11 ;o0r,.05 —— calm, 4 Q9°
—20. A.M.— 21in 2 ;o0r,.175 —— W. mod, Sie
Some of these being made in the night, and
of long duration, neither the temperature of the
air, nor the force of the aqueous atmosphere
could be fairly determined: the second experi~
ment was made under every favourable circum.
594 On Evaporation.
stance, and the aqueous atmosphere found at
22°. By problem 2, at page 588 it would have
-been determined at 214°, using the second column
of grains inthe table.* .
* On the subject of evaporation it may be considered
as unpardonable not to advert to De Saussure’s valuable
Essays on Hygrometry.
That excellent philosopher determined, by a well
conceived experiment, that dry air of the temperature of
64° or 66°, imbibed aqueous vapour so as to increase its
elasticity =4; of the atmospheric pressure; and that a
cubic foot of such air required 11 or 12 grains of water
to produce the effect. By the table above at page 560
‘it appears the force of vapour at 61° = .54 = zy of
29 .5 inches, nearly. It is probable this difference is
occasioned in part at least by the want of perfect dry-
ness in the air he operated upon, which caused the
increase of elasticity to be less than otherwise,—It was,
I think, unfortunate that he attached so much impor~
tance to and confidence in his hygrometer; and that he
adopted the theory of chymical solution of water in air,
contrary to the facts he discovered, which seemed more
reconcileable to the notion of aqueous vapour being a
distinct elastic fluid. Indeed he is forced to acknow-
ledge in the 1st. chap. of his Essay on the Theory of
Evaporation, that in the ordinary temperature of the
atmosphere, aqueous vapour is formed in the first ins
stance a distant elastic fluid, and after zt has been con-
verted into an elastic fluid, it is dissolved by the air;
** Je crois quil ne la dissout que lorsque V’action du
* feu l’a convertie en vapeur elastique.”- Now if it
can for a moment exist independently under the pressure
On the Expansion of Elastic Fluids by Heat. 595
ESSAY IV.
On the Expansion of Elastic Fluids by Heat.
The principal occasion of this essay is another
on the same subject by Messrs. de Morveau
and du Vernois in the first vol. of the Annales
de Chimie. It appearing to them that the
results of the experiments of De Luc, Col.
Roi, de Saussure, Priestley, Vandermonde, Ber-
of the atmosphere, why may it not continue to exist in
that state? ”
His table of the weight of aqueous vapour in a cubic
foot of air at different degrees of the thermometer,
being derived from experiments with his hygrometer,
except the standard one of 66. (15° Reaumur), is far
from accurate ; and the inaccuracy increases with the
distance from the standard, which, as has been observed,
appears to be nearly correct: in the higher. temper.
atures he makes the water dissolved too little, and in
the lower temperatures too much,—He says (§ 93) that
the lowest he has seen the hygrometer in the open air,
is 40; and that it indicated a reduction of temperature
in the air amounting to 34° .7 (78° of Fahr.) was neces-
sary in order to deposit dew, This observation alone
is sufficient to render his hygrometer suspected; for,
few who have attended to the formation of dew will
admit the probability of so large a reduction being ne-
‘cessary in any climate or season: I believe it rarely
‘requires 40° reduction in temperature in any part of the .
world to produce the effect,
596 On the Expansion of Elastic Fluids by Heat.
thollet and Monge did not sufficiently accord
with each other; and that it would be of impor-
tance to determine not only the whole expan.
sion of each gas from two distant points, such
as the freezing and boiling, but likewise whether
. that expansion be uniform in every part of the
scale, they instituted a set of experiments exs
pressly for those purposes. The result of which
was, that betwixt the temperatures of 32° and
212°, the whole expansion of one gas differs
much from that of another, it being in one
instance about +s of the original, and in others
more than 12 times that expansion; and that
the expansion is much more for a given num-
ber of degrees in the higher than in the lower
part of the scale. These conclusions were so ex-
tremely discordant with and even contradictory
to those of others, that I could not but suspect
some great fallacy in them, and found it in re-
ality to be the fact: I, have no doubt it arose
from the want of due care to keep the apparatus
and materials free from moisture.
My method of experimenting on this subject
is simple, and therefore less liable to error. A
straight manometer tube, such as has been men-
tioned, is duly divided into equal portions of
capacity; it is then dried by a wire and thread,
and the open end inserted through a cork into
a phial containing sulphuric acid, in order that
On the Expansion of Elastic Fluids by Heat. 597
the aqueous vapour may be drawn out of the
tube; this is essential if we operate in temper-
atures lower than that of the atmosphere, other-
wise not. For want of this: attention, Col.
Roi, in his valuable paper in the Philos. Trans.
vol. 67, has been led into some erroneous con-.
clusions.—A small column, of dry mercury is
then let down toa proper point in the mano-
meter, and it is ready for experiment with
common air,
It requires some address to fill the manometer
with any other gas,—I succeeded best as follows :
filled the tube with dry mercury; then pushed
down a wire with thread,. so that when the wire
was got to the end of the tube, a thick covering
of thread just entered the open end, and held
the mercury like a cork, so that the tube could
be inverted without losing the contents; then
having a glass funnel with a perforated cork
over the water apparatus, containing the gas,
I slipped the manometer through the hole in the
cork, and putting my hand into the water under
the funnel, drew the wire out of the manometer,
and with it the mercury; upon which the gas
entered the manometer. For carbonic acid gas,
I opened the sealed end of the manometer,
drew it out to a capillary bore, and forced a
stream of the gas through the tube; then putting
my finger on the other end, sealed it again bya
598 On the Expansion of Elastic Fluids by’ Heat.
blow-pipe, and let down a small column of mer-
cury to the proper point.
When'the manometer was to be exposed’ to
a heat of 212°, I used a Florence flask, with a
long glass tube corked into it, in such sort that
as much of the manometer as was necessary to
be exposed ta the temperature might be in the
tube; then water at the bottom of the flask was
made to boil violently, so that a constant stream
of vapour issued out of the top of the glass tube,
which was found to raise the thermometer to
212%. Small specks of white paint were put
upon the divisions of the manometer together
_with numbers which were discernible through
the containing tube. For lower temperatures
a deep tin vessel containing hot water was used,
in which the manometer was immersed, the water
being well agitated previously to each obser -
vation. ag
From a great many experiments made in
this way on common air, and likewise upon
hydrogenous gas, oxygenous and nitrous gases,
and carbonic acid gas, I can assert that the con-
clusions of De Luc, Roi, Saussure, Berthollet,
&c. are nearly accurate throughout, and that
those of de Morveau and du Vernois are ex-
tremely inaccurate in the higher temperatures.
I have repeatedly found that 1000 parts of
common air of the temperature 55° and common
On the Expansion of Elastic Fluids by Heat. £99
pressure, expand to 1321 parts in the manometer’ .
to which adding \4 parts for the corresponding
expansion of ‘glass, ‘we ‘have 325 ‘parts increase
Upon 1000 from’ 55° to’ 212°3! or for 157° of
the thermometrie-@eale, As °for the expansion
in the intermediate’ degrees, which’ Col. Rdi’s
experiments shew to’bea Slowly diminishing one
above the temperature of 57°, but ‘which de
Morveau’s ‘on the-contrary shew tobe a rapidly
increasing one in the ‘higher part of the scales -E
am obliged ‘to. allow that ‘Col. ‘Roi is right,
though it makes in some degree against an hy
pothesis I have formed rélative to ‘the subject 3
he ‘has certainly however made ‘the dimihution
too great from 72° downwards, owing to ‘his
not perceiving that he actually ‘destroyed a
portion of the elastic fluid \he “was” operating
upon (aqueous! Vapour) in reducing ‘its temper
ature so low: if his air‘had been previously
dried by sulphuric acid, &c. he would not have
found so remarkable jdiminution below 72°. My.
experiments ‘give for 772° above 55°, 167 parts 4
forthe next 772° only 158 parts and the ex:
pansion in every part of the scale seems to bea
gradually diminishing one in ascending.
The results of several experiments‘made upon
hydrogenous gas, oxygenous gas, carbonic acid
gas and nitrous gas, which were all the kinds J
VOL. V. NN
600 On the Expansion of Elastic Fluids by Heats
tried, agreed with those an common air not
only in the: total expansion, but in the gradual
diminution of it in, ascending: the small differs
€nces observed. never. exceeded 6 or 8 parts on
the whole $253 and differences to this amount
will take place in common air, when not freed
from aqueous vapour, which was the situation
of all my factitious gases.
Upon the whole therefore I see no sufficient
reason why we may not conclude, that all elastié
Sluids under ‘the same spressure expand equaily by
heat—and. that. for any given expansion of mer-
cury, the corresponding expansion of air is pro-~
portionally, something . less, the higher the temper-
ature.
This remarkable fact that all elastic fluids
expand the. same quantity.in the same. circum.
stances, plainly shews that the expansion depends
solely upon heat: whereas the expansion in solid
and. liquid; bodies seems to depend. upon an
adjustment. .of the, two opposite forces of heat
and chemical. affinity, the one a constant force
in. the same temperature, the other a variable’
one, according to the nature of the body; hence
the unequal expansion of such bodies. It seems
therefore that general laws respecting the absolute
quantity and the nature of heat, are more likely
to be derived from elastic fluids than from other
substances,
On the Expansion of Elastic Fluids by Heat. 601
In order to explain the manner in whothy
elastic fluids expand by heat, let us assume an;
hypothesis that- the repulsive force of each par-
ticle is exactly proportional to the whole quan-
tity of heat combined with it, or in other words
to its temperature reckoned from the point of
total privation: then, since the diameter of
each particle’s sphere of influence is as the cube
‘root of the space occupied by the mass we shall
3 3
have V 1000: ¥1325 (10: 11, nearly) :: the
absolute quantity of heat in air of 55°: the
absolute quantity in air of 212°. This gives
the point of total privation of heat, or absolute
cold, at 1547° below the point at which water
freezes. Dr. Crawford (Qn Animal Heat, &c.
page 267) deduces the said point by a method
wholly different to be 1532°.—So near a coin-
cidence is certainly more than fortuitous.
The only objection I see to this hypothesis
js, that it necessarily requires the augmentation
of elastic fluids for a given quantity of heat to
be greater in the higher temperatures, than in the
lower, because the cubes of a series of numbers
in arithmetical progression differ more the larger
the numbers or roots: but it has just been shewn
that in fact an augmentation of a contrary kind
is observed. This refers us to the consideration
whether the mercurial thermometer is an accurate
602 On the: Expansion of Elastic Fluids by Heat.
measure of the increments of heat; if it: be,
the hypothesis fails; but if equal increments
of heat cause a greater expansion in mercury
in the higher than in the lower epabe
and that in a small degree, the fact noticed
above instead’ of being an objection will a
roborate’ the hypothesis.—Dr. Crawford deters
mines thé expansions’ of mercury to! be very
nearly‘in proportion to the increments of heat;
M. De Luc. makes oe to be less for a given
quantity of heat in the lower than in the higher
part. of the scale; and in a ratio that agree
with this hypothesis, Now as every other liquid
we are acquainted with is found to_expand more
in the higher than im the lower, temperatures ;
analogy is in favour of the conclusions of De
Luc,. that. mereury dogs the same. ye ‘
Q Q © » > o
EXPLANATION OF THE PLATE
3 + - A. % ~ ry : O° *”)
_ The annexed plate is intended to illustrate the author "9
ecnception of. the €onstitution of the atmosphere’ ii
different marks or characters of the’ iparticles’ of the ga
are merely arbitrary, and intended for distinctions, =
i
|
:
}
|
simple atmospheres are given nearly on'their real densities,
and the particles are arranged at equal distances from eac
other. to the compound atmosphere the same arrangemen
is madd of each kind of particles as. in the simple ; Bae the
particlés of differént kinds do not arrange, at réguibt
distances from each others because: it is supposed they
do not repel eachother,"
SIMPLE A.
wt, YOCOUS PA~lOUE CLYOWOUS — GtbdS
COMPOUND .
Oy Var)
SIMPLE ATMO 8 PA RS Vihd HB. Mage G09
lyneows vapuer Coygemns ges + Gyolto guts Aasbonie avd. yes
. . . . .
| x | > 0) > | | a a
Be mo |
o Oley ga a
COMPOUND ATMOSPHERE
. . * ae Cr Seay a ** ° 7 ¥* —-~z ~ ee Ca |
z 9 % o ° 9 an |
“°
>
2
°
°
$03
~A REVIEW: of some' EXPERIMENTS,
which have been supposed to DISPROVE
the MATERIALITY of HEAT. °
BY WILLIAM HENRY;
READ JUNE 5, 1801,
The following remarks, on the subject of heat,
were written soon after the publication of Count
Rumford’s Inquiry concerning the Source of the
Heat evolved by Friction ; and of the interesting
essays of Mr. Davy, which appeared in Dr. Bed-
does’s West Country Contributions. They
were transmitted to Dr. Beddoes, for publica-
tion, about the close of the year 1799; but
circumstances, with which I am unacquainted,
have, I believe, induced the Doctor to decline
the continuation of his periodical work. These
circumstances, I deem it necessary to state ;
because, fad -the essay been written nearer the
period of its publication, it would probably
have assumed a very different form. At present,
Fhave not ‘leisure to review the subject, or to
attempt any material alteration; and still less,
3 r
604 On the Materiality of Caloric.
to examine, whether J have been anticipated by
any of the authors, whose essays have been
published, during the two last years,
A Review of some Experiments, which have. been
supposed to disprove the Materiality of Heat.
It has long been a question among philoso- ©
phers, whether the sensation of heat, and the
class of phenomena arising from the same cause,
be produced by a peculiar kind of matter, or
by motion of the particles of bodies in general.
The former of these opinions, though far’ from
being universally admitted, is now most generally
received ; and the peculiar body, to. which the
phenomena of heat are referred, has been deno-
minated by M. Lavoisier, caloric, Against
the doctrine of the French school, some forcible
arguments have lately been advanced by Count
Rumford and by Mr. Davy, both of whom have
adopted that theory respecting heat, which as-
signs, as its cause, a motion among the particles
of bodies.
The method of reasoning, employed by Mr.
Davy, in proving the immateriality of the cause
of heat, is the reductio ad absurdum, i. e. the
oppugned theory is assumed. as true, together
with its applications; and facts are, adduced,
directly coatradictory of the assumed principles,
On the Materiality of Caloric. 605
i shall take the liberty. of offering a statement of
the argument, rather different from that of Mr.
Davy ; though I trust without misrepresentation,
or any material omission,
Let heat be considered.as matter ;, and let it
be granted, that the temperature of bodies de-
pends on the presence of uncombined caloric.
Now, if the temperature of a body be, increased,
the free caloric, occasioning that elevation, must
proceed from one of two sources; either istly.
it may be communicated by surrounding sub-
stances; or 2dly. it may proceed from an inter-
nal source, i.e. from a disengagement of what
before existed in the body, Jatent. or combined.
But the temperature of) bodies. is uniformly
increased by friction-and percussion, and, neces-
sarily, in one of the foregoing modes,
I. Mr. Davy found, by experiment, that a thin
metallic plate was heated, by friction in the
exhausted receiver of an air pump, even when
the apparatus was insulated, from _ bodies
capable of supplying caloric, by being placed
on ice. This experiment he considers as de-
monstrating, that, the evolved caloric could
not be communicated by surrounding bodies,
To the inference deduced from this experi-
ment, it may be objected, that the mode of
insulation was. by no means perfect, Admitting .
the vacuum, produced by the air pump, to: have
606 On ‘the Materiality of Calorze.
been complete, still the supply of ‘caloric could
not thus be’ entirely cut off; simce’ it “hasbeen
shewn ‘by ‘Count ‘Rumford, that “caloric: passes
even through a torricellian vacuum: ’ Tf, there-
fore; ‘friction’ produce ‘in 'bédies*some | ehange,
which enables them’ to ‘attract caloric from/sur-
rounding ‘substances, « this attraction may be
equally efficient “in anvexhausted’ receiver,” as
inone' containing’ an' atmosphere of mean‘den-
sity. It would ‘be an’ interésting subject’ of
experiment, ‘to ‘determine the ‘influence (of ‘at+
mospheres of ‘various densitiés,.as conductors ‘of
caloric; for, since effects are proportionate to
their causes; and it is ascertained that common
air conducts caloric, better than it is conveyed
through a vacuum, as 1000 is to 702, it may
be expected that the ratio will hold in all inter-
mediate degrees.
In ‘Count Rumford’s masterly experiment,
the metal, submitted to friction, was encom-
passed by water; and air was’ carefully excluded
from \the surfaces in motion. “Yet! the «water
became hot, and -was' kept ‘boiling a consider-
able time. In this-case, the only obvious'source
of caloric, from without, was-through the’borer,
employedin producing'the friction ; if it be-true,
as the-Count has observed, that the water eculd
mot, at the same instant, ‘be in the act ‘of ‘giving
out and receiving heat. The same objection
On the Materiality of Caloric. 607
to the communication of heat, from an external
source, €xists, also, in thus explaining Mr.
Davy’s‘ experiment: but I cannot admit that
the argument is demonstrative, in proving the
evolved caloric not to be derived from external
substances; for no absurdity is implied in sup-
posing, that a body may be receiving caloric in
One state, and giving it out im another. We
have an examplé of the simultaneous admission
and extrication of a subtile fluid, the materiality
of which is admitted by Mr. Davy, in an excited
electric, which, at the very same instant, receives
the electric fluid from without, and transfers it
to the neighbouring conductors. In an ignited
body, also, the two processes of absorption and
irradiation of light, are, perhaps, taking place at
the amse moment.
II. Another cause of the increase of tem-
perature in bodies, is the liberation of their
combined caloric; and, if this be a source of
temperature, the absolute quantity of caloric in
a body must be diminished by friction. That
no such diminution really takes placé, we Have
the evidence of two experiments+thé one of
Mr. Davy, the other of Count Rumford. Mr,
Davy, by tubbing together two pieces of ice
converted them into water. Now water, ex hy-
. pothesi, contains more caloric, than the ice, from °
VOL. Vv, oie)
608 On the Materiality of Caloric.
which it was formed; and, on the same hypo-
thesis, the absolute quantity of caloric in ice is
diminished by friction and liquefaction, which
is absurd: Count Rumford, also, ascertained
that the specific heat of iron was not diminished,
when converted by a borer into turnings, and
consequently when it had been the source of
much temperature. In explanation of these
facts, we may be allowed to assume the com-
munication of caloric from surrounding bodies,
till this communication has been demonstrated to
be impossible. But even were the impossibility
established, it would yet remain to be proved,
that the evolved caloric does not proceed from
an internal source; and this can only be done,
by an accurate comparison of the quantity of
‘caloric in bodies, before and after friction.
Now, in instituting this comparison, it is implied,
that we possess means of determining the abso-
lute quantity of caloric in bodies, and that we
can compare quantities of caloric, with as much
Certainty, as we can obtain from an appreciation
by weight or by measure. Such perfection, how-
ever, does not, I apprehend, belong to the
present state of our knowledge respecting heat;
for I. have always been distrustful of that part
of the doctrine, which assigns the ratio of heat
latent in bodies. The grounds of this distrust
I shall state pretty fully—for, if it can be proved
,
On the Materiality of Caloric. 609
that we have no accurate conceptions of quantity,
as appertaining to heat, all arguments against
its materiality, derived from supposed determi-
nations of its quantity, must be inconclusive.
The only clear conceptions, which the mind
has of quantity, are derived either from a com-
parison of the magnitude, or of the gravity, of
bodies. In the instance of caloric, both these
modes of mensuration fail us. We cannot
estimate the bulk of a substance, which eludes
-our grasp and our vision; nor have we yet suc-
ceeded in comparing its gravity, with that of
the grosser kinds of matter, which it surpasses
in tenuity, beyond all comparison. Our no-
tions of the quantity of caloric are derived, not
from such simple judgments, but from compli-
cated processes of reasoning, in the steps of
which, errors, fatal to the whole, may, pase a
sometime appear.
Whatever be the nature of caloric—whether
it be a body suc generis, or a quality of other
bodies,—its effects are peculiar and appropriate ; -
and, like all other effects, bear a proportion to
the energy of their cause. Expansion, for ex-
ample, it is proved by experiment, keeps pace
with the actual increments of heat; and on this
principle is founded the thermometer, the great
agent in the acquirement of all our ideas res- -
pecting heat, both absolute and relative, The
610 On the Materiality of Caloric.
competency of this instrument, however, to afford
information of the quantity of caloric, is limited
by the following circumstances.
1. The mercury of the thermometer indicates
only the quantity of heat, which it has itself
acquired, and by no means that contained in
‘surrounding bodies. gdly. The scale of ex-
pansion is wholly arbitrary, commencing far
from the absolute privation of heat, and falling
far short of its maximum. gdly. The: caloric,
latent in bodies, or chemically combined. with
them, has no effect on the thermometer. 4thly.
The experiments of Dr. Crawford, though suffi-
cient to shew that the expansion of the mercury
of the thermometer bears a ratio to the actual
increments of heat, in any temperature between
the boiling and freezing points of water, by no
means prove that this proportion holds univer.
sally.
Equal weights of heterogeneous bodies, it is
presumed, contain unequal quantities of caloric ;
and the ratio of these quantities, is approx-
imated, in the following manner,
Equal weights of the same body, at different
temperatures, giye, on admixture, the arithme-
tical mean: but equal weights of different bodies,
at different temperatures, afford a temperature,
which varies considerably fromthe mean. Thus
a pound of water at 100 degrees, and a poundat
On the Materiality of Caloric. 614
200°, giye the temperature of 150°; but a pound
of water at 200° and a pound of mercury at
100° afford, not the mean, but a temperature
considerably higher. Hence it follows that a
pound of mercury has not the power of fixing
and retaining so much caloric, as a pound of
water: and the fixation of more heat, by the
water than by the mercury, is ascribed to the
superior energy of a power, inherent in both,
and termed capacity for caloric.
From an extensive series of experiments Dr.
Crawford infers, that the capacities of bodies
are permanent, so long as they retain their form.
Thus, the capacity of water has to that of mer-
cury the ratio of 28 to 1, at any temperature
between 32° and 212°. The difference of capa-
cities of bodies, it is inferred, therefore, would
continue the same, down to the absolute priva-
tion of temperature.—Imagine, then, two bodies,
at this point of privation: they may still contain
unequal quantities of combined caloric; for,
when chemically combined, caloric does not
produce temperature. On Dr. Crawford’s hy-
pothesis, these comparative quantities of com-
bined caloric, in the two bodies, may be learned,
by observing the ratio of temperature, produced,
by the addition to each, of similar quantities of
heat. This supposition, however, is manifestly -
gratuitous; and the contrary might be main-
612 On the Materiality of Caloric.
tained, with equal or greater probability: for,
it may be supposed, that at this assumed nega-
tion of temperature, one body renders latent
more caloric than another, because it actually
contains less; as certain dry salts attract more
water from the atmosphere, than others contain-
ing much water of crystallization. The com-
monly employed mode of ascertaining the spe-
cific caloric of bodies, is founded, therefore,
on an assumption, which is deficient in the
character of a datum, and which itself requires
proof, ,
If these objections be valid, they will apply
also to shew the fallacy of the theorem, for
finding the absolute zero of bodies. By this
term some philosophers appear to understand
the point of absolute privation of caloric, both
free and combined. J apprehend, however, that
in strict propriety it can only be used to signify
the negation of wncombined caloric, or, as Dr.
Crawford expresses himself, the point of abso-
lute cold. As applied, however, to water, it
is evident that the whole quantity of heat is
understood.—lIn ascertaining the zero, say these
calculators, the capacity of ice to that of water
isas gto 10. It is plain, therefore, that when
water freezes, it must give out zoth. of its whole
heat, and this 10th. part is found to answer to
146° of Faht, Consequently its whole heat is
On the Materiality of Caloric. 613
10 times 146, or 1460°; and hence the natural
zero is 1460 — 32 or 1428°. Now of this
estimate it is a datum, that the capacities of ice
and water have precisely the above ratio. But
if the general formula, for ascertaining the spe-
cific caloric of bodies, be founded on erroneous
principles, it cannot serve as the groundwork
of any solid conclusions.
The materiality of caloric may, I apprehend,
be maintained, without admitting that we have
made any steps towards determining its quantity
in bodies; and the arguments of Count Rum-
ford and Mr. Davy are not demonstrative, be-
Cause they assume, that this part of the doctrine
of caloric cannot be relinquished, without aban-
doning it im toto. I may be permitted, there-
fore, to state my reasons for believing caloric to
be matter; which would have been unnecessary,
had the contrary been proved, with all the force
of mathematical demonstration.
Avoiding all metaphysical reasoning on the
nature of matter, and assuming the generally
received definition, as sufficiently characterizing
it, I shall examine how far this general cha-
racter of matter applies to the individual—calo-
ric. Caloric occupies space or is extended,
because it enlarges the dimensions of other
bodies; and, for the same reason, it is impene-~
614 On the Materiality of Caloric.
trable, since if it could exist, at the same time,
in the same place, with other bodies, their vo-
lume would never be enlarged by the addition
of heat. Of form or figure, as only a mode of
extension, it is unnecessary to prove that caloric
is possessed ; and indeed there is perhaps only
one general quality of matter, that will not be
allowed it, viz. attraction. That caloric is in~
fluenced by the attraction of gravitation, or by
cohesive attraction, has never yet been proved.
Yet the various experiments of Buffon, White-
hurst, Fordyce, Pictet, &c. cannot be alleged
as proofs, that it is actually devoid of this pro-
perty; since they only decide, that the small
quantities, which can be artificially collected,
aré not to be set in the ballance against the
grosser kinds of matter. One kind of attraction,
that which has lately been termed chemical affiv
nity, may, I think, after a full survey of pheno-
mena, be fairly predicated of caloric—and if its
possession of this quality be rendered probable,
we shall thence derive a powerful argument, in
favour of its materiality.
That chemical affinity has a considerable share
ii producing thé phenomena of heat, appears
probable from the following considerations.
i. All the characters, distinguishing caloric
when separate, ceasé to be apparent, when it
has contributed to a change of form in other
EE
On the Materiality of Caloric. 615
bodies; andthe properties of the substances so
changed are also materially altered. Now this
is the only unequivocal mark of chemical union,
that we can apply in any instance ; and chemical
union implies the existence and efficiency of
chemical affinity.
2. The relation of caloric to different sub-
Stances appears to observe that peculiar law,
which, in other instances, is termed elective
affinity, If a compound of two or more prin-
ciples, a metallic oxyd for instance, be exposed
in a high temperature, the caloric forms a per-
“manent union with the one, but not with the
other. In certain instances, caloric is evolved,
when two substances, attracting each other more
powerfully than they attract caloric, produce on
admixture, an elevation of temperature. In
other instances, caloric is absorbed, when it is -
attracted by the new compound, more strongly
than by the separate components. Such facts
warrant the deduction, that caloric is subject to
the laws of chemical affinity.—But the precise
order of its affinities remain to be decided, by
future experiments.
g. Caloric seems, also, on some occasions,
to bear a part in the operation of double elective
affinities. In this way, it produces decompo-
sitions, which, by single affinity, it is ais aut?
VOL, Vv. PP
616 On. the Maiteriality of Caloric.
of effecting.Thus a most intense fire does not
expel, entirely, the carbonic acid from alkalis.
But when the affinity ofan acid for an alkali
concurs with that of carbonic acid for caloric,
a decomposition ensues.——Again— Water may.be
submitted to the highest temperature, without
imparting a gaseous form to the hydrogen which
it contains; but the conspiring affinity of a metal
for oxygen occasions the production of hydro-
genous gas... On.this principle, many chemical
facts are resolved into the law of double affinity,
which. are, at present, explained by that of sin-
gle elective attraction. 524
4. Caloric acts, sometimes, as an intere
medium in .combining. bodies, which, without
its aid, are not susceptible of combination.
Thus carbon and oxygen do. not evince’ any
tendency to combination, at the ordinary tem-
perature of the atmosphere; but caloric brings
them into union, and constitutes, itself, part of
the resulting compound, This, and a variety
of other instances, have a striking resemblance
to what is called intermediate affinity.
In the theory of Dr. Crawford, no influence
- is allowed to chemical affinity over the pheno-
mena of heat;~ and indeed. hat. philosopher
expresses a decided opinion, that elementary
heat is not capable of uniting chemically with
bodies. Hence it appears, that the difference -
On the Materiality of Caloric. 617
between’ the terms’ affinity and capacity is not’
merely a verbal one; but that they are actually:
expressive ‘of different’ powers or catises: and
the question, therefore, which ‘of> these terms
shall be adopted, in the description: of facts, is
one involving the determination of catises.
The term capacity for heat ‘is employed, by
Dr. Crawford and others, to denote, in the
abstract, that power, by which different kinds
of matter acquire different quantities of caloric.
But in the various applications, that are made of
this theory, a more precise Meaning is often
affixed to it; and the term is applied, in much
the same sense, which it has in common lan-
guage. When thus understood, a difference of
Capacity necessarily implies a difference in the
extent .of the spaces, ‘between the minute par-
ticles of bodies; and that these differences occa-
sion the varieties, observed in the acquirement
of heat. by -different bodies. On ‘this theory,
there is no active principle or power inherent
in bodies, and: more’ active in» some’ than. in
others,—no tendency in the matter: of heat to
attach itself, in preference, ta any one .sub-
stance. The assigned cause. of the phenomena
of heat is not, I apprehend, adequate to pra.
duce the effects as d to it, |
On the theory capacities, a change of
form is, in certain instances, antecedent to the |
618 On the Materiality of Caloric.
absorption of caloric. Thus, when ether is
converted into gas, on removing the pressure
of the atmosphere, according to this hypothesis,
the capacity of the ether is increased by its vola-
tilization; and the change of form is prior to,
and the cause of, the absorption of caloric.
The order of events, then, in the volatilization
of ether, is first an alteration of form; next a
change of capacity; and lastly an absorption of
caloric. On this hypothesis, ether may exist
in the state of gas, without containing a greater
absolute quantity of caloric, than in a liquid
form. But such an interpretation of pheno-
mena is directly contradictory to an established
principle, admitted, even by those who prefer
the doctrine of capacities, viz. that all bodies,
during their conversion froma fluid to a vapo-
rous state, absorb caloric. It is at variance,
also, with observed facts: for if a thermometer
be immersed in a portion of ether, confined
under the receiver of an air pump, the temper.
ature of the ether will be found to sink gra.
dually, during the exhaustion of the air; and
the evaporation becomes proportionally slower,
till, at last, it is scarcely perceptible. We may,
therefore, infer, that at a certain point of dimi-
nished temperature, the volatilization of ether
would entirely cease, if the supply of caloric,
from surrounding bodies, could be completely
Oniche Materialily of Caloric. 619
intercepted. But on the theory of capacities,
the evaporation should proceed as rapidly at
the close, as at the commencement, of the pros
cess—or, in other words, evaporation should be
wholly independent of temperature, which every
one knows is contrary to fact.
It may be considered, therefore, as extremely
probable, that the tendency of ether to assume
a gaseous form depends on its chemical affinity
for caloric. But, (it may be asked) how is this
affinity counteracted by an increased pressure,
and augmented by a diminished one ?
A circumstance, absolutely essential to the
formation of gasses, is, that free space shall be
allowed for their expansion.—Mechanical pres-
sure acts as a counteracting force to this expan-
sion; and either prevents it completely, or
partially, according to the degree of its appli-
cation. But from this fact, no argument can
be drawn against the existence of chemical
affinity, as an attribute of caloric. Two oppo-
site forces in physics may be so balanced, that
neither shall produce its appropriate. effect.
Thus a body, impelled in contrary directions,
may remain at rest, yet the operation of the
opposing forces, in this case, cannot be denied,
Even in chemistry, we have unequivocal ex-
amples, in which the action of the affinities
is suppressed by more powerful causes. Thus
620 On the Materiality of Caloric.
bodies, that have a strong chemical affinity,
are. kept perfectly distinct, even when placed
in contact, by the affinity of aggregation.
The only inference, then, that can fairly be
deduced from the effects of pressure, in pre-
~venting the formation of gasses, is, that it is a
power, sometimes superior, in energy, to that
of chemical affinity.
Since, therefore, caloric is characterized 7
all the properties, except gravity, that enter
into the definition of matter, we may venture
to consider it as a distinct and peculiar body.
Nor is its deficiency of gravity sufficient to
exclude it from the class of material substances.
Such nicety of arrangement might, with equal
propriety, lead us to deny the materiality of
light, the gravity of which has never yet been
proved: for, besides the experiments. of Mr.
Michell, which: failed in ascertaining this pro-
perty of light, we have several chemical facts
tending to the same conclusion. Thus Mr.
Cavendish, after firing a mixture of hydroge-
nous and oxygenous gases, in a close vessel,
a process during which much light is always
emitted, found not the smallest diminution of
weight.
To have completed this defence of the mate-
rial nature of heat, it would have been proper to —
have pointed out the circumstances, in which the
— ye ee ae
On the Materiality of Caloric. 621
phenomena of heat differ from the known and
acknowledged phenomena of motion. At pre-
sent, however, I have not leisure to pursue
the subject at much length; and, though several
points of disagreement would doubtless be
found, I shall mention only one of the most
marked and decisive. ae
Motion is an attribute of matter, indepen-
dently of which it cannot possibly subsist. If
therefore, the phenomena of-heat can be shewn
to take place, where matter is not present, we
shall derive, from the fact, a conclusive argu-
ment against that theory! of heat, which assigns
motion as its cause. Now, in the experiment
of Count Rumford, before alluded to, héat
passed through a torricellian vacuum, in which,
it need hardly be observed, nothing could be
present to transport or. propagate motion.
This experiment, in my opinion, decidedly
proves, that heat can subsist independently
of other matter, and consequently of motion—
in other words that heat is a distinct and peculiar
body.
622
An INVESTIGATION of the METHOD
, whereby Men judge, by the Ear, of the
POSITION of SONOROUS BODIES
relative to their own Persons,
BY MR. JOHN GOUGH.
COMMUNICATED BY DR. HOLME.
READ NOVEMBER 27, 1801.
The power of the ear to distinguish very slight
variations of tone, has been observed long ago ;
and some experiments have been made to ascer-
tain the degree of discrimination, which a good
ear possesses in this respect. But there is ano-
ther faculty of the auditory organs, which, as
far as I know, has never been explained,—I
mean the power of ascertaining, with some
degree of precision, the bearings or relative
positions of sonorous bodies. Every man is
sensible, by constant experience and observation,
of the existence of the faculty in question; for
every person who can hear, knows, without the
use of his eyes, from what quarter any particular
sound proceeds; or, to speak in more definite
On the Method of judging by the Ear, Sc. 629
terms, perceives, whether it comes from before
‘or behind him, from his right hand or his left.
His powers of discrimination in this respect
are not confined to the general limits or points,
which I have here mentioned by way of illus.
tration; for, he can in most instances divide
these principal angles, not indeed into degrees
and> minutes, but with so much accuracy as to
know whether the sounding object lies ina line
making a less angle with that imaginary right
line, which may be supposed to join his ears;
or with. another right line, which, passing from
the front to the back part of his head, bisects
the former at right angles. This sort of per-
ception is not confined to what passes upon the
horizon; for, place the same person on a tower,
or other steep eminence, and he will perceive
whether a certain sound comes from a part
below or above him: besides which, he imme-
diately combines this sensation with the preced-
ing, so as to form a judgment respecting
the true situation of the sounding body, which
is of great practical use in the common affairs’
of life.
The nature of the present essay seems to
require, that the reader should -conceive the
human head to be divided by two fixed mathe-
VOL, V. 29
~~
Vis
624 On the Method of judging by the Ear
matical planes, with a view to assist his imagina«
tion while he peruses the sequel.
The first of these planes lies parallel to the
horizon, when the hearer stands in an erect
posture ; and contains in it the imaginary right
line that joins the ears, which in future will be
called, the axis of hearing. This plane, there-
fore, divides the head into two dissimilar solids,
the one superior, and the other inferior in
respect to itself, The other plane must be
conceived to stand perpendicular to the last,
and to bisect the axis of hearing at right angles.
On these accounts, it evidently passes from the
front to the back part of the head, dividing it
vertically into two portions; which are so nearly
alike in most men, that they may be considered,
without danger of error, as two equal and
similar geometrical solids. The preceding de-
scription, which bears the face of a mathematical
construction, may perhaps assist my readers in
conceiving what was meant above, when I spoke
of combining the perception produced by the
comparative elevation or depression of a sound-
ing body, with the sensation which arises from
its place on the horizon, relative to the axis of
hearing: for every man judges, with some
degree of accuracy, of the angles which are
made with the two planes described above, as.
well as their common section, by the right line
of the Position of Sonorous Bodies: 62 5
that joins his head and the place from which
any particular sound proceeds.
Though the fact I have been describing is
established by universal experience, the cause of
it, I believe, has never been investigated ; and
indeed the question, when we first attend to it,
seems to put on a very puzzling appearance.
We know that when sound finds a free passage
through the air, it takes the shortest path, lead-
ing from its source to the person who attends
to it; and that the sensation of hearing is occa-
sioned by a succession of waves or pulses of
air, which fall upon the auditory organs, in the
direction of a right line drawn from the sounding
body to the head of the hearer. But after the
enquirer has arrived at this point in his exami.
nation of the problem, his progress is hindered
by the difficulty under consideration. The per-
plexity here alluded to arises from the obscurity
of the principle, whereby men compute the
angles, which a right line, drawn from the place
of a sound to the head of a hearer, makes with
the two planes described above, as wellas their
common section.—It is in vain to endeavour at
an explanation of the phenomenon, by analogies
borrowed from vision.—The spectator judges
of the relative positions of visible objects, by
knowing the situation which their images have
on the retina, in respect to the axis of his eye;
626 On the Method of judging by the Ear
but the person, who judges by the ear, has not
the same advantage in measuring angles: for
whatever may be the direction of a sound in
the open air, as soon as it enters the auditory
passage, it is compelled to follow the course of
that duct, until it reaches the apparatus in
which the sense of hearing resides.—In conse~
quence of this restriction, all sounds what-
ever fall on the seat of sensation in the same
direction; viz. in the ultimate direction of the
auditory passage. The foregoing circumstance
must, it should seem, unfit the ear for judging
of the comparative positions. of sounding bo-
dies; because, if like effects follow like causes,
we must conclude, that the ear is incapable. of
perceiving any angular variation, arising from
the situations of sounding bodies in respect
to itself: seeing the pulses, proceeding from
any number of such bodies any how. disposed,
are forced, by the construction of theauditory,
organ, to strike the sensorium under a given
angle; for, ultimately they all move parallel to
a given right line.-—The impossibility of ex.
plaining this problem by analogy, shews the
necessity of examining the nature of hearing
itself, in order to discover a proper way of
investigating the difficulty.
The great sensibility of the ear is, in my
judgment, the real cause of the phenomenon,
. of the Position of Sonorous Bodies, 624
which constitutes the topic of the present essay.
But it will be proper to say something, in the
first place, respecting the accuracy of this organ
in distinguishing the difference of two sounds
that are known to be nearly equal in force;
because the truth of my opinion rests on this
fundamental fact.—The want of a sure method
of measuring the momentum of the air when
agitated by a vibrating body, with the same
certainty that the angles between rays of light
are measured, appears to be the reason why
the accuracy in question is so generally over-
looked. But though it seems very difficult to
give a general rule for measuring magnitudes
of this description, the following experiment
proves, in a very satisfactory manner, what a
delicate faculty the sense of hearing is.—A bolt,
driven by a spring against a fixed piece of metal,
may be made to produce a succession of strokes
of equal force; consequently the concussions
given to the air, by any two of these strokes,
will also be equal; and will therefore occasion
like effects on the same ear, placed at equal
distances from the spring, the state of the wind.
and weather being the same in both cases.—
I caused an instrument of the preceding de-
scription to be struck repeatedly at the dis
tance of 40 feet from my ear, care being taken ,
to place it in the axis of hearing produced ; after
628 On the Method of judging by the Ear
which, it was moved in the same right line
sometimes two feet further from me, at other
times two feet nearer to my person; and I could
always distinguish distances thus varied, The
range of the sound, or the distance at which it
ceased to be audible, was 240 feet, or six times
the interval made use of in the experiment.
The sound which I employed was therefore of
a moderate force, and perhaps the interval was
a suitable one, being neither too great nor too
little a part of the whole range. It appears
then, that a good ear will discover a percep-
tible difference in the forces of two equal
sounds; the one of which moves through one
sixth part of its whole range, and the other
through a space which differs from the distance
of the former only the 120th. part of the range
common to them both.—The foregoing instance
affords a remarkable proof of the ear’s accuracy
in comparing, slight variations in the momenta
of sounds; and I have reason to believe that
the delicacy of my organs, in this respect, sur-
passes the medium of sensibility ; for, some ears
which were tried in the same manney, did not
perceive the effect in question, until the instru-
ment had been moved four feet, or the 6oth.
part of my range. But either instance furnishes
@ proof sufficient for the present purpose, and
of the Position of Sonorous Bodies, 629
shews the human ear to be a very delicate judge
of comparative loudness,
The nice faculty of discriminating sounds,
nearly equal in force amongst themselves, being
established by the preceding experiment, it is
to be applied in the next place to explain the
phznomenon we are treating of. When we
find that successive parts of the same sound
preserve their force or loudness unaltered,
we are taught by experience to conclude, that
the sounding body also preserves its distance
from us unchanged: on the “contrary, when
successive parts of the same sound grow stronger
or weaker, we know with equal certainty, that
the space interposed between our ears and the
vibrating object is, for the most part, shortened
and lengthened accordingly, by changing the
place of the hearer or of the sounding bedy. Ex-
perience also teaches mento use the same nicety
of perception, in ascertaining the positions of so-
norous objects with respect to their own persons.
In order to illustrate this question, it will be
proper to begin with a simple example. Suppose
then a sounding body, situated towards the
front of the hearer, to lie in the horizontal
plane, mentioned in the beginning of this essay,
and to be placed on one side of the right line,
which bisects the axis of hearing at right angles :—
for instance, let it be to the right hand of it.
630 Onthe Method of judging by the Ear
Moreover, we will take for granted, what
will be afterwards proved; namely, that the
pulses of air, proceeding from the vibrating
surface, will strike the right ear, which is turned
towards it, more forcibly than the left. Under
these circumstances, two cotemporary currents
of the same sound will strike the opposite
sides of his head, at the same time, with unequal
momenta: he is therefore left to form a judg-
ment of the incidents; and the sensibility in
question enables him to determine with certainty,
which of his ears is most affected. A thousand
similar cases have occurred in the course of
his life, in which he has been convinced by
the testimony of his eyes and hands, that the
strongest impression is constantly made on that
ear which is turned towards the sounding
body; he therefore draws the same conclusion
in those cases where he is not assisted by the
evidence of sight and touch. In this manner
every man acquires a practical rule, which, like
all practical rules formed in infancy, becomes
a mechanical action, and is therefore exercised .
by every body, while very few understand the
nature of it. Some of my readers may suspect,
that on the present theory, too much influence
is ascribed to experience. But such a suspi-
cion would in my opinion be ill founded ; for,
all the senses have their practical maxims, which
of the Position of Sonorous Bodies. 691
they borrow mutually one from another, Op-«
ticians have demonstrated, that vision would
prove but of little use, were not its natural im-
pérfections corrected by touch: hearing also
forms its judgment in one class of phenomena,
from a kind of secondary knowledge afforded
by the hands and eyes. Two sounds moving
through unequal spaces may be equal in force,
nay the remoter may prove the more powerful
of the two: Joudness, therefore, is not a sure
indication of proximity; but every man has re-
marked, at an age when his memory was too
weak to record incidents, that sounds lose more
and more of their asperities the farther they
move: every man, therefore, in his riper years,
considers roughness to be a proof of proximity,
and smoothness to be the criterion of remote-
ness. _ That this faculty is acquired, appears
‘evident from the errors into which it leads
the judgment under certain circumstances. I
have known a person mistake the mellow tone,
which is produced by rubbing the brim of a
glass vessel with a wet finger, for the blast of
a distant horn, though there was but the breadth
of a table between him and the piace of the
sound, and almost every one falls into a similar
deception the first time he hears the soft notes
of an olian harp. If then the ear correct its
VOL. Vy RR
632 On.the Method of judging by the Ear
imperfections in one instance, by means of ins
formation derived from the other senses, it will
not fail to make use of the same aids as often
as it can do so with advantage; it will therefore
have recourse to this secondary species of know-
ledge, provided the ‘pulses of air, proceeding
from a sounding body placed not directly be-
fore or behind the hearer, can be proved to fall
with a greater force on one of his ears than on
the other. 1 am apprized that this supposition
is not countenanced by the prevailing theory
of the propagation of sounds: according to
which, the pulses of air diverge from every point
in the circumference of an obstacle towards all
parts beyond that impediment. But this theory
appears to be a mathematical conception rather
than a fact; it is therefore better fitted to ex-
plain the outlines of hydrostatics, than to assist
in the minuter parts of a physical enquiry. The’
laws and properties of a perfectly elastic fluid
do not apply to the atmosphere without excep-
tion; ‘and an occurrence, which is not unfre-
quent, seems to prove decisively, that the’ pulses
of air which move parallel to the axis of hear
ing strike only one ear with effect, I mean that
which opposes itself to their progress. If you
happen to address yourself in an open area to a
person who has the misfortune of being deaf on
one side, having your mouth directed to his
~
of the Position of Sonorous Bodies. 693
defective ear, he will perceive nothing, or at most
but a very confused noise, This circumstance
shews, that the pulses which pass immediately
before and behind him, continue in their course
without being deflected to the sound ear, which
it screened by the interposition of the temples
and face, from the action of those that-strike the
contrary side of the head... But the case would
be otherwise, provided. sounds diverged from all
points: indifferently ; because on this supposition
the ear could not be protected from their in-
fluence by its situation, Any person has. it in
his power, to make the same experiment on him-
self; for let any one standing in’ the open air
close one of his ears with, moist paper, and ‘
cover the same side of his head with a folded
napkin or cushion; if then a watch be held in
the axis of hearing, at the distance of two or
three inches from the napkin or cushion, he
will not be made sensible of its presence by
sound, Should the same experiment afterwards
be repeated in a confined apartment, the person
who makes it will perceive the clicking of the
watch in the direction of his open ear, because
the beats are reflected in their natural succession
from the side of the room which is opposite to
that ear, Opportunities sometime occur, that
enable us to contemplate the. same phenomenon
on a larger scale. If a-lofty and extensive
634 On the Method af judging by the Ear
building happen to intervene between a person
in motion, and the place from which a loud noise
“proceeds, he no longer hears the sound in its
proper direction, provided he passes very near
the edifice, though at the same time he is con-
vinced that the noise still continues, by hearing
it reflected from another quarter. Let him, in
the next place, advance in a right line perpen-
dicular to the side of the building, and he will
ina short time lose the echo, and recognize the
original sound. Perhaps it may be imagined,
that this change will not be observable before
a right line, drawn from the head of the hearer
to the sounding body, barely touches the top
of the edifice: but this supposition, which is
true when applied to the phenomena of sha-
dows, cannot be relied on in the present instance,
For as often as a sound meets with interruption,
those pulses which pass nearest the obstructing
body propagate themselves afresh into the air
lying on the contrary side of the impediment,
by means of the lateral communication of mo-
tion; on which account, an intercepted sound
recurs at a less distance from the obstacle, than
that which a geometrician would assign to the
event, by drawing the right line specified above,
By the way, we may observe, that the principle
which Signor Venturi has lately denominated
the Jateral communication of motion to fluids,
of the Position of Sonorous Bodies, 69
has so considerable a share in the various
phenomena of sound, as to render geometrical
speculations on the subject in a great measure
useless. For instance, if a lofty obstacle inter-
pose itself between a sounding body placed at
the foot of it and a person standing at any
distance on the opposite side, according to geo-
metry, he will not be able to perceive any sound
from it, because the pulses which should strike
his ear with effect, will be intercepted in their
progress by that obstacle; ‘on the contrary, we
are convinced by experience, that he will hear
it, not indeed in the true direction, but as if it
proceeded from some place elevated above the
impediment. Sound, therefore, is propagated in
a manner which neither coincides with the com-
monly received theory relative to the subject,
nor with the phenomena of shadows; on the
other hand, it seems to follow a law, that may
be said to form a medium between the two.
The consequences of interrupting the pulses
of sound, as well as the lateral communication
of motion being now explained, the topic of the
essay may be resumed. The annexed diagram
will be found of use in explaining the phzno-
mena which arise from the pulses of sound being
obstructed by the hearers head, as they move in
the horizontal plane passing through his ears, -
which case ought to be treated separately from
636 Onthe Method of judging by thé Ear
the more, complex one that comprizes the angle
of elevation, along with: the horizontal distance
from the axis of hearing. When the sonorous
object.stands directly in front of the hearer, the
semicircle ACB may be supposed ‘to \ repre«
sent the horizontal section of his head, passing
through the places of the ears, E and F, and
the axis. of hearing EF; also let G be the
place of the sounding body, ‘which, according ©
to the conditions of the case, lies. in the: plane
ACB produced, | and. - likewise' in ‘the right
line GS, which bisects, EF at right angles:
seeing. then EF. is bisected by the perpen-
dicular, SG, the arch ECF is also. bisected
by the same in the point C,. Draw LG, GK,
to touch the. circle in T. and P, then will. the
arcs TEC, and CFP be equal. Now- all
the pulses which do not move in right lines,
contained in the angles TGS and SGP fly
off without. touching the circle; conséquent-
ly they add nothing to the sound impressed’on
the ears by the body placed at G, whether the
places. E and F be supposed: to lie in the arcs
TC and CP, or without them. But the
same number of pulses equal in force will fall
in a given time, and in similar directions, on
the arcs TEC and CFP as well as on
the ears situated at E and F; and it is equally
manifest, that the same reasoning will apply to
a. f* £
Pea tet oe
aaah f .
wee
Wore
Te ee ee
of
ah ey e
Vit 5. Plale.9. Fuge O30.
ig 1.
W
Hig 5,
Lage 659, &
“of the Position of Sonorous Bodies, 634
two equal and similar solids, constructed upon
the equal and similar:: planes,, ECS and FE
CS. . Now sound, though it be formed in the
ears, is very much increased by the vibrations
excited in the contiguous parts of the head by
the pulses which fall :upon them, as I-shall.en-
deavour to prove hereafter: therefore, as oftenas .
the two portions of the*head, which are sepa-
rated by the vertical plane perpendicular to the
axis of hearing, are equally agitated by the pulses
of the same sound, the ears are‘also equally affected
from the same cause; which never happens, as we
learn from the testimony of the other senses,
unless the sounding body be placed somewhere
in the right liné that bisects the axis of hearing
at right angles, In this manner men are taught
by experience to draw a general inference from
a general observation; they therefore conclude
a body to be situated directly before or behind
their persons, as often as the sound of it strikes
both their ears with equal forces. The preced-
ing demonstration elucidates the case of direct
hearing, as far as this can be done by the assistance
of a diagram; but the perception which deter-
mines the place of a sounding body to be in front
of the hearer or behind him, requires a separate
investigation ; and] shall endeavour in the next
place to ascertain the cause of it, by the follow-
ing observations,
638 Onthe Method of judging by the Ear
The head isa sensitive solid, and it perceives the
impulses made on it by sounds much more exqui«
sitely than men generally imagine. This sensibili-
ty is strongest in the auditory passages, and next to
them in theparts immediately adjacent to the ears 5
nevertheless it diffuses itself more or less perfectly
over the face, forehead, and temples, as well as
all the external teguments of the skull. The
sensation in question being of but little use in-
dependent of its connection with hearing, we
for the most part mistake its true situation, and
refer it to the organs of this sense, unless some
circumstance, resembling the succeeding ex-
periment, should happen to discover the nature
of it to us. If any one will take the pains to
close the orifices of his ears with wet paper,
and will hold two slender rods of wood to his
forehead or to one of his temples, taking care to
keep the ends which are in contract with the skin
separated by a small interval:and let another person
at the same time touch the opposite ends of the rods
with two watehes, one of which does not move: the
beats of the active watch will immediately pass
along the stick, and make a sensible impression
on the spot where its other extremity rests;
which proves, that the bones of the head do not
simply conduct sounds to the auditory nerves,
but that the external tegaments of this ‘member
also assist in discovering the directions of sounds
of the Position of Sonorous Bodies. 639
by their sensibility. The same apparatus may
be used to shew, that all parts of the head are
not equally alive to the impulses of sounds: for
a stick, which is of a proper length to impress)
the beats of a watch very faintly on the ear and
‘parts adjacent, will prove too long to produce
the same effect on the forehead, which is never=
theless much more exquisite in its feelings than
the back part of the head.
_ The phenomena of oblique hearing remain
to be explained; which case occurs as often as
the sounding body is situated in the horizontal
plane, but not in the right line that bisects the
axis of hearing at right angles. Let M be the
place of the sounding body, and draw MO to
the centre of the circle: also let OC bisect
the arc ECF, and take OG in it equal to
OM: also draw WM, MR, PG, GI tan-
gents to the circle. Now suppose a sound
equal to that at M, to proceed from G,.then
the latter would haye the same effect on the
arc TCP that the former has on WDR, be-
cause the arcs are manifestly equal, and alike
situated relative to the points M and G. But
the sound proceeding from G is a case of di-
_rect hearing, consequently the ears placed at E
and F receive equal impressions from it, which
is not the case with the pulses that flow from M,
VOL, V. Ss
‘
640 On the Method of judging by the Ear
For though the forces imparted to the two
arcs, TCP, WDR are equal, they do not fall
equally on the circle in respect to the points E
and F, which represent the ears; the sound
therefore coming from M strikes these organs
with unequal forces, as ag be easily inferred
from the figure.
What I have just now demonstrated by help
of a semicircle may be said with equal justice of
any solid, such as the human head, that can be
divided vertically into two equal and similar
portions by the plane, to which the axis of hear-
ing is perpendicular. This assertion is too evi~
dent to need a laboured demonstration. It was
observed in a former part of this paper, that if
a person stop one of his ears, and hold a watch
near it in a close room, he will hear the sound
of it in the direction of the open ear by reflec-
tion, which circumstance may be sufficient to
establish the truth of the preceding theory : but,
in order to diversify the proof, the following
experiment was tried. I took a wooden fork
made of a stick of ash, which was split more
than two-thirds of its length for the purpose ;
the points of thé two branches turned inwards,
and were placed at a proper distance to receive
the head between them; a watch was then sus-
pended upon the haft, or undivided part of the
fork, after which the ends of the branches were
of the Position of Sonorous Bodies. 644
brought inte contact with two plugs of wet
paper that closed my ears; in consequence of
which I made the following conclusive remarks.
When both points pressed with equal forces on’
the plugs of paper, I judged the watch to be
directly before me from its beating: but as often
as the pressure of one of the points was aug-
mented, the sound seemed to quit its station in
front of me, and to incline towards that side
where the greater force was applied; lastly, I
discovered, by using only one branch of the fork,
that an increase of the pressure increased the
effect of the same sound. The two cases of
horizontal hearing being by this time pretty
fully considered, it is necessary to change the
subject, that the method whereby we judge. of
elevation by the ear may be examined in its turn.
For this purpose, suppose a right line to join
the sonorous object, and the centre of the axis
of hearing; also conceive a plane to pass through
the same centre, to which the same right line is
perpendicular. ‘Then it is evident that all the
pulses, which are impressed by the sonorous
object on the head, must fall on that part of it
which lies between the plane and the place of
the sound; consequently that portion of the head
is the seat of the sensation excited by the sonorous
object; because the head is a sensitive solid, and
capable of topical irritation arising from the ime
642 On the Method of judging by the Ear
pulses of sounds. Seeing now we are convinced,
by a delicate sort of touch, what part of the head
is affected by the strokes of the sonorous object,
and are at the same time well acquainted with
‘the form of this member of the human body, we
judge accurately what is the situation of the
excited portion of it, relative to the centre of
the axis of hearing: in consequence of this judg-
ment, we also determine the position of the plane
last mentioned, which forms the base of the por-
tion under consideration, by dividing it from the
rest of the head,
But the right line which joins the middle point
of the axis of hearing and the sonorous body,
points out the direction of the sound, which line
is perpendicular to the given plane in a given
point; for which reason it is given in position :
or, in other words, the direction of the sound in
respect of fixed points in the hearer’s head is
determined: and this is done with a degree of
accuracy, which I believe very few people are
aware of. In order to satisfy my own curiosity.
on the subject, I tried an experiment, with a view
to discover what is the least sensible variation of
a given sound from the. perpendicular to the axis
of hearing, supposing the deviation to be measured
by an arc of the horizon; and I found the angle
comprehended by this perpendicular, and: the
sound’s path, did not exceed ejght degrees,
of the Position of Sonorous Bodies. 643
The experiment was tried in an open plain, to
prevent the intrusion of reflected sounds as much
as possible. The instrument made use of was
that which has been already described, as consist~
ing of a bolt driven by a spring against a metal
button ; and the distance from my person to this
sounding body was kept equal to forty feet, in
the different parts of the experiment. I also
discovered, by the assistance of the same appa-
ratus, that the least sensible angle of elevation
above the horizontal plane, was not more than
ten degrees at the last mentioned, distance; the
sounding body being placed in the vertical plane,
to which the axis of hearing is perpendicular.
But the foregoing observations are not to be
adopted and used as fixed rules, for much
depends on the comparative sensibility of the
auditory organ in different persons; and an alter-
ation in the force of a sound will, without doubt,
make a considerable change in the result of the
experiment on elevation : because I have ob-
served, that the feeble sound of a distant watch
though sufficient to shew whether it came from
my right or left hand, was too weak to point
gut its situation, relative to the horizontal plane
passing through my head. This imperfection in
the sense of hearing, if it may be called one, is
in all probability owing to the want of sensibility
in the upper part of the head and lower part of
644 On theMethod of judging by the Ear
the face, which defect renders them incapable of
perceiving the impulses of feeble sounds. .
The faculty of hearing which I have been ine
vestigating, betrays men under certain circum-
stances into errors, that appear the more surpriz-
ing, because the judgment relies on the admo-
nition of the ears with the greatest confidence,
The theory. of these deceptions will therefore
form a proper supplement to this essay, Men-
tion has been already made of the sudden change
that takes place in the sensible direction of a
sound, as soon as the direct communication with
the sounding body happens to be broken by the in-
tervention of a lofty obstaele, provided the sound
in question be loud enough to produce an echo
from anather quarter. .Any person who has had
occasion to walk along a valley obstructed with
buildings, at the time that a peal of bells was
ringing in it, will assent to the truth of the cir~
cumstance here alluded to. For the sound of
the bells instead of arriving constantly, at the ears
“of a person so situated, in its true direction, is
frequently reflected in a short time from two or
three different places. These deceptions are in
many cases so much diversified by the successive
interpositions of fresh objects, that the steeple
appears, in the hearer’s judgment, to perform the
part of an expert venirifoguist on a theatre, the
of the Position of Sonorous Bodies. 645
extent of which is adapted to its own powers,
and not to those of the human voice.
The phenomenon has often attracted my
attention ; and the similarity of effect which
connects it with ventriloquism, convinces me
every time I hear it, that what we know to
be the cause in one instance is also the cause in
the other: I mean that the echo reaches the ear,
while the ‘original sound is intercepted by ‘acci-
dent in the case of the bells, but by aré in the
case of the ventriloquist. In order that the
cause which gives rise to the amusing tricks of
this uncommon talent may be pointed out with
the greater clearness, it will be proper to describe
certain circumstances that take! place in the act
of speaking, because the skill of the ventrilo-
quist seems to consist in a peculiar management
of them. Articulation is the art of modifying
the sound of the larynx, by the assistance of the
cavity of the mouth, the tongue, teeth, and lips.
The different vibrations, which are excited by
the joint operation of the several organs in
action, pass along the bones and cartilages,
from the parts in motion to the external tegu-
ments of the head, face, neck, and chest; from
which, a succession of similar vibrations is im-
parted to the contiguous air, thereby converting
the superior moiety of the speaker’s body into an |
extensive seat of sound, contrary to general
opinion, which supposes the passage of the voice
646 On thé Method of judging by the Ear
to be confined to the opening of the lips;
There are but few persons, I imagine; who have
‘not some time or other witnessed an incident,
which shews the vulgar notion to'be erronéous in
this particular. For if a man standing in a close
apartment should happen to apply his face to a
loop-hole, or narrow window, in order to speak
to some person in the open air, a by-stander in
the room with him will hear his voice, not indeed
in its natural tone, but as if it were smothered by
being forced to issue from a hollow case; but
the circumstance of his words being heard dis-
tinctly, by one who cannot receive them from
his mouth, proves the vibrations requisite for
their production to be conveyed through the
solid parts of the speaker’s body, agreeably to
the preceding assertion, The reason why we
generally conclude the voice to be. confined to
the opening of the mouth, appears to be this.
Those pulses which escape from the aperture are
the strongest, they therefore surpass the weaker
vibrations of the contiguous parts ; for when a
number of sounds moving in different directions
strikes the ear at the same instant, the hearer does
not notice their several places, but refers all of
them to the quarter in which the most powerful
is perceived. For instance, when a man stands
at a sufficient distance from an extensive obstacle,
his words are answered by an echo; but let him
make a loud uninterrupted noise, neither he ‘ugr
of the Position of Sonorous Bodies. 647
any body near him hears two voices whilst his
continues, but as soon as the noise ceases the
echo is perceived. This does not happen because
the one begins the moment the other ends; but
the reflected sound being the weaker of the two,
it is smothered by that which precedes it.
We have seen in what manner secondary or
teflected sounds are smothered by their princi-
pals; but though the places of such sounds ares
not recognized by the ear, their effects do not
die away unnoticed: for the reverberated pulses
mingle with those which come immediately from
the sounding body, and thereby alter the sensa-~
tion, which, without their interference, would be
less compounded. This is the reason why the
same musical instrument has one tone in a close
chamber, where its notes undergo a multi-
plicity of reverberations, and another in the
open air, where the reflections are few in com-
Parison. ;
But it is time to apply the preceding facts to
the subject in hand; and it will be proper to begin
with a familiar example. When an orator ad-
dresses an audience in a lofty and spacious room,
his voice is reflected from every point of the
apartment, of which all present are made sen-
sible by the confused noise that fills up every
pause in his discourse; nevertheless every one
VOL. V.. aa
648 On the Method of judging by the Ear
knows the true place of the speaker, because his
voice is the prevailing sound at the time. But
were it possible to prevent his words from reach-
ing any one of the audience directly, what then
would follow? Undoubtedly a complete ease of
ventriloquism would be the consequence, and
the person so circumstanced would transport the
orator, in his own mind, to the place of the prin-
cipal echo, which would perform the part of the
prevailing sound at the instant. This he would
be obliged to do, because the human judgment
is bound, by the dictates of experience, to regard
the person as inseparable from the voice; and
the deception in question would be unavoidable,
heing produced by the same concurrence of causes
which makes a peal of bells, situated in a valley,
seem to change place in the opinion of a traveller.
Tt is the business of a ventriloquist to amuse his
admirers with tricks resembling the foregoing
delusion; and it will be readily granted, that he
has a subtle sense, highly corrected by experience,
to manage, on which account the judgment must
be cheated as well as the ear. | This can only be
accomplished by making the pulses, constituting
his words, strike the heads of his hearers, not in
the right lines that join their persons and his,
He must therefore know how to disguise the true
direction of his-voice, because the artifice will
give him an opportunity to substitute almost any
of the Position of Sonerous Bodies. 649
echo he chuses in the place of it. But the su-
perior part of the human body has been already
proved to form an extensive seat of sound, from
every point of which the two pulses are repelled,
as if they diverged from acommon centre. This
is the reason why people, who speak in the usual
way, cannot conceal the direction of their voices,
which in reality fly off towards all points at the
same instant. The ventriloquist therefore, by
some means or other, acquires the difficult habit
of contracting the field of sound within the com-
pass of his lips, which enables him to confine
the reab path of his voice to narrow limits. For
he, who is master of the art, has nothing to do
but to place his mouth obliquely to the company;
and to dart his words, if I may use the expres-
sion, against an opposing object, whence they
will be reflected immediately, so as to strike the
ears of the audience from an unexpected quarter,
in consequence of which the reflector will ap-
pear to be the speaker. Nature seems to fix no
bounds to this kind of deceptions, only care must
be taken not to let the path of the direct pulses
pass too near the head of the person who is to be
played upon; for, if a line joining the exhibitor’s
mouth and the reflecting body approach one of
his ears too nearly, the divergency of the pulses
will make him perceive the voice itself instead
of the reverberated sound.
650 On the Method of judging by the Ear
The only ventriloquist I ever attended, acted —
in strict conformity to the preceding theory of
this curious paradox in the science of acoustics.
His audience was arranged in two opposite lines,
corresponding to the two sides of a long narrow
room. The benches on which they were seated
reached from one end of the place to the middle
of it, the other part remaining unoccupied. The
feats exhibited by him were the three following.
First: he made his voice come from behind his
audience, but it never seemed to proceed from
any part of the-wall, near the heads of the people
present; on the contrary, it was always heard
resembling the voice of a child, who seemed to
be under the benches. He stood during the time
of speaking in. a stooping posture, having his
mouth turned towards the place from which the
sound issued ; so that the line joining his lips and
the reflecting object, did not approach the ears
of the company. Second: advancing into the
vacant part of the room, and turning his back to
the audience, he made a variety of noises, that
seemed to proceed from an open cupboard which
stood directly before him, at the distance of two
or three yards. Third: he placed an inverted
glass cup on the hands of his hearers, and then
imitated the cries of a child confined in it. His
method of doing it was this; the upper part of
the hearer’s arm laid close along his side; then
of the Position of Sonorous Bodies. 55t
the part below the elbow was kept in an horizontal
Position with the hand turned downwards, which
was done by the operator himself. After taking
these preparatory steps, the man bent his body
forwards in a situation which presented the
profile of his face nearly to the front of his
hearer, whilst his mouth pointed to the cup; in
which posture he copied the voice of a confined
child so completely, that three positions of the
glass were easily distinguished by as many diffe-
rent tones, viz. when he pressed the mouth of the
cup close against the palm, when one edge of it
was elevated, and when the vessel was held near
the hand but did not touch it. The second and
third instances of ventriloquism afford strong
proofs, that this delusive talent is nothing more
than the art of substituting an echo for the pri-
mary sound; for, besides the change perceivable
in the direction of the voice, it was found to
be blended with a variety of secondary sounds;
such as we know by experience are produced as
often as a noise of any kind issues from a cavity.
J have already made some remarks on this spe-
cies of knowledge; but it would be improper to
dismiss the subject without noticing the accu-
racy, with which the ear recognizes the finer
modifications of sounds, and their causes, I
have frequently observed, that a certain waterfall
makes a flatter and duller noise when the ground
652 On the Method of judging by the Ear, Se.
is covered with snow, than that which it affords
at other seasons. The human voice also under
goes a similar change within doors, by striking a
multiplicity of soft bodies, such as a number of
piles of wool, or a crowded congregation in a
church.
The method of preventing the vibration of the
vocal organs from reaching the external tegu-
ments, is still wanting to complete this theory of
ventriloguism; and I presume it can only be
supplied by an adept in the art. I must therefore
dismiss the subject unfinished, because I have no
pretension to that character.
653
The THEORY of COMPOUND SOUNDS.
BY MR. JOHN GOUGH.
_COMMUNICATED BY DR, HOLME, _
Dr. Smith, author of the work on Harmo-
nics, takes for granted in his theory of com-
pound sounds, that the pulses which proceed at
the same time from a number of sounding bodies,
do not clash, or obstruct one another, in their
passage through the air. According to this hy-
pothesis, each set, of any number of cotempo-
rary sets of pulses, strikes the ear without being
confounded with the rest; in’ consequence of
which, any number of sounds may be distinctly
perceived at the same time. On this supposition,
a compound sound is a sensation rendered vari-
able by the irregular manner in which the pulses
of the constituent sounds succeed to one another.
For, if the intervals of time between two succes-
sive pulses of one of the constituent sounds be
not equal to the same intervals belonging to the
sound or sounds which accompany it, the secon-
dary intervals, or small parts of time separating the
pulses which fall in succession on the ear, will
vary in magnitude ; in the same manner that the
distances between the figures upon the face of a
ri
654 Theory of Compound Sounds.
barometer and its nonius vary, none on the slider
coinciding with those on the fixed plate excepting
the highest and lowest. I have chosen this fa«
miliar instrument to illustrate Dr. Smith’s me-
thod of explaining the physical cause of com-
pound sounds, because it affords a visible exam-
ple of a cycle of pulses, according to his notion
of the subject.
The sketch which I have exhibited of Dr.
Smith’s hypothesis shews, that he allowed that
a number of simple sounds might exist in con-
cert, and strike the ear in a distinct manner, with-
out suffering any interruption in their motions
from the interference of their pulses. Buta late
writer on sound rejects this axiom in Harmonies
as a mathematical inconsistency ; and substitutes
the following theory of compound sounds in the
room of it. If two musical strings, differing in.
their times of vibration, happen to vibrate in
concert, they do not occasion two distinct sounds
in the opinion of this gentleman, because the
strings agitate the air in conjunction; conse.
quently the pulses, which one of them would
actually form in an undisturbed atmosphere, must
unavoidably clash with those which the other
string would produce in similar circumstances.
Hence the waves of air belonging to both strings
are interrupted in their natural progress, and are
compelled by their mutual interference to coa-
Theory of Compound Sounds, 655
lesce, thereby producing a new succession of
pulses; constituting a single sound in the place of
two. This sound is of a peculiar kind; for, the
pulses of which it consists; are separated by un-
equal intervals of time, and disposed in cycles.
The merit of the preceding theory, when com.
pared with Dr.Smith’s hypothesis, must be ascer-
tained by contrasting it with a variety of facts,
which are furnished by the phenomena of com-
pound sounds, and make a part of every man’s
experience. For, if it be found upon examina-
tion to be repugnant to these facts, it will prove
inconsistent with nature, and cannot fail of dis-
appointing the inventor’s expectations.
Were it’ possible for a number of sounds to
coalesce, and form but one, the compound would
acquire sensible properties peculiar to itself, and
at the same time lose the distinguishing characters
of its elements, some of which are incompatible
with the qualities of an individual, On this
supposition, the presence of the constituent
sounds could not be detected by the ear in this
newly created being: on the contrary, an expe-
rimental process would be required to analyse
every compound sound the first time it. attracted
a man’s attention, for the same reason that a
chemist finds it necessary to analyse a substance
with which he is unacquainted, The abstract
VOL. ¥. Uv
!
656 Theory of Compound Sounds.
term coalescence is used, in a physical sense; to sigs
nify any intimate union of bodies or the powers
of bodies ; and the introduction of the term into
language proves the existence of the principle in
nature, or more properly in the human mind.
For, when a number of agents act in conjunc-
tion upon one of the senses, we have two ways
of conceiving their mode of operation. - If the
sensible effects of each agent be distinctly per-
ceived, we attribute a separate action to every
member of the assemblage, and call the aggre-
gate a mixture: this is the conclusion of a per-
son who tastes an infusion of pepper in vinegar.
On the other hand, when we know that certain
agents are present without being able to recog~
nize their distinguishing powers, in the room of
which we find qualities of a different description,
we pronounce the aggregate to be ina state of
coalescence. This is the situation of the che-
mist, who tastes common salt, but cannot perceive
the presence of soda and the muriatic acid. It
is my business then to prove compound sounds
to be mixtures, not aggregates by coalescence.
This I shall endeavour to do, by shewing that
they have properties which belong not to indi-
viduals, such as a number of tones, a variety of
directions, and several sets of pulses.
First, the tones of a flute and violin are as dis-
tinct to sense as any two things can be when they
4
' Theory of Compound Sounds. 657
are sounded separately ; and I appeal to common
experience to determine, if they are not equally
distinct when heard in concert. Taking it for
granted that the answer will be in the affirmative,
I pronounce the aggregate to be a mixture of
sounds in one case. Secondly, if a violin sound
in front of the hearer, and a flute be heard at
the same time in an oblique situation, the person
thus circumstanced is able to determine the re-
lative positions of the two instruments, which
shews the aggregate to have two cotemporary
directions, It is therefore a mixture of sounds,
not a single sound, Thirdly, I have found by
making the experiment, that any number of mu-
sical strings may be made to vibrate by a com-
pound sound acting upon them, provided this
compound be occasioned by an equal number of
strings with the former, having one in the latter
Set in unison with each one in the preceding set:
This is an experimental proof that there are as
Many sets of pulses in an aggregate of sounds
as that aggregate contains elements, because no
string whatever is in unison with a concord or
discord. Lastly, if it were possible for sounds
to coalesce, men would never hear any thing
more than one noise at one time: The general
hum would have varied perpetually from the ex-
tinction of existing sounds, and the! intrusion of
fresh ones; but the human mind»would have
658 Theory of Compound Sounds.
had no conception of two cotemporary sounds ;
because the ear being in that case incapable of
conveying the complex sensation, the idea of
such an existence would have transgressed the
sphere of human knowledge. The preceding
arguments are drawn, for the most part, from
common experience; and they shew, that the ©
free passage of cotemporary sounds through the
air may be safely admitted as an axiom in har-
monies. I shall therefore proceed to prove th
_ same proposition to be consistent with the doc-
trine of forces. |
The propagation of sound through the atmos-
phere, and the nature of aéreal pulses are com-
monly explained in elementary books of natural
philosophy ; I shall, for this reason, enumerate
only a few particulars, the recollection of which
will be found useful.
Prorosir1on I, Two contiguous particles of
air which are agitated by a vibrating body, either
directly or by the intervention of an elastic me-
dium, receive two motions from each impulse ;
forst, an absolute motion carries them to a greater
distance from the sounding body, and afterwards
brings them towards it again, both the progress
and regress being performed in the time of a
Single.‘vibration: . second, a relative motion re-
sulting:from the former, compels the two parti-
cles to approach ‘and recede alternately, which
Theory of Compound Sounds. 659
double motion is also accomplished in the time
of a single vibration.
Proposition II. Both the absolute and re-
lative motions are greatest amongst those parti-
cles which are nearest the sounding body, and
they diminish as the distance from that body in-
creases; but, in all cases, the change of place is
too small to be perceived by the ear, on which
account every particle preserves a fixed position
in respect of this organ and its connections,
For each corpuscle is confined within the cir-
cumference ofa physical right line, the diameter of
which is determined by its own absolute motion,
Proposition III. If two sounding bodies,
_ affording different notes, act in conjunction upon
the same particle, through the media of two right
lines of similar particles connecting them with it,
this particle will be urged at the same instant in
the direction of these lines, by two forces having
an inconstant ratio.
For, let the particle A be urged, by the acuter
sound, in the line SA, and by the graver, in the
the line TA; (vede fig. 2, plate 9, page 636.);
then the contiguous particle V, placed in SA,
will approach to, and recede from A more fre~
quently than W, similarly placed in TA, by
Prop. I.: consequently the force of V upon
A will vary in a quicker manner than the force
ef W upon-A; but this variation of ratio is
660 Theory of Compound Sounds.
limited in time; because it evidently begins
and ends with the cycle of the vibrations of the
sounding bodies.
Prorosttion 1V. The coalescence of two
sounds is impossible on mechanical principles.
For, suppose the thing possible ; then the coa-
lescence of two sounds requires, that a particle
of air should possess a motion, compounded of
the motions which the two sounding bodies
would impart to it separately ; and that this com-
pound motion should act ina given right line, for,
an assignable part of time, otherwise it could not
excite a similar motion in the elastic particles
occupying that given right line. Let A be
such a particle, and let the construction used
in the last proposition, be retained; conse-
quently (Principia, Prop. 23, Lib. 2.) VA and
AW are in the ratio of the forces that act
at any moment in the right lines TA and SA.
Make AK as AW, and draw KL parallel to
AW, and make it as AV; also join AL; then
will the particle A be urged in the direction
LA at that instant. But the ratio of AK to
KL varies perpetually, by Prop. III. ; there-
fore the species of the triangle AKL is equally
inconstant; consequently the compound force
does not act ina given direction for an assignable
part of time. Now the production and propa.
gation of motion in a given right line requires
Theory of Compound Sounds. 661
force to be combined with time, which combi+
nation is wanting in the present instance; where~
fore the coalescence of sounds is impossible.
ProrosiTion W. It may be demonstrated
from mechanical principles, that a number of
distinct cotemporary sounds cannot do other-
wise than produce distinct sensations.
In order to make the necessary diagram as
simple as possible, let the directions of two co-
temporary sets of pulses be represented by thé
right lines SM and TN, lying in the same hori-
zontal plane, and intersecting in the point A;
also, let BCD be the horizontal section of the
hearer’s head, made by the same plane; and sup-
_ pose the centre of the axis of hearing to be at
O; draw OM, ON perpendicular to SM, TN.
Now I have shewn in the preceding paper, that
if a set of pulses move im either of the right
lines SM, TN, it will excite a sensation in that
part of the head which is cut off by a vertical
plane, passing through one of the perpendicu-
lars OM, ON. It also appears from the last
proposition, that the impulses of the vibrating
bodies, acting in the lines SA, TA, do not com-
pel the particle A to move in any given interme-
diate direction, as LA. But, according to the
second proposition, the position of the particle
A, is fixed in respect of the planes MO, NO;
that is, though the corpuscle actually changes
662 Theory of Compound Sounds.
place, in respect of the geometrical point A, it is
always found in the intersection of the physical
right lines SM, TN. Now the two vibrating
bodies continue to act in the directions of these
right lines, consequently the particle A is con-
stantly urged in these lines by two forces, whichy
though variable in magnitude, are combined with —
time; which circumstance enables the corpuscle
to transmit the impulses of one body to M, and
those of the other to N. What has been demon-
strated of the particle A, may be affirmed of any
other particle, which is the intersection of two
right lines parallel to SM, TN ; in other words, it
may be affirmed of two sets of pulses; and the same
demonstration may be extended to three sets, &c,
Corollary 1. The substance of this and the
preceding proposition will apply to all elastic
mediums; hence it happens, that a plate of glass
&c. in a state of vibration, will conduct a foreign
sound, whilst it produces one of its own; for
the same reason, if light be considered as a vi-
brating medium, one particle of the luminous
fluid may assist in transmitting two sensations.
Corollary 2. When the inclination of the
planes MO, NO, is less than a given angle, the
ear cannot distinguish the relative positions of
the sounding bodies; it therefore refers them to
the same place,
Theory, of Compound Sounds. 663°
The first time I perused Dr. Smith’s Har-
monics, Dr. Young’s objection occurred to me;
but the preceding train of arguments removed
the scruple, without discovering, the author’s rea-.
sons for treating this article of his work with so
much brevity.. Perhaps the demonstration, which
cost me an effort of study, was an intuitive con-
clusion in his comprehensive mind. As soon as
the proposition was established, I assented to his.
definition of an interval of sound, allowing it to
be a quantity of a certain kind, terminated by a.
graver and an acuter sound, The demonstration
of Prop. V. convinced me, that intervals of this
sort may be subdivided by the interposition
of one or more intermediate sounds, which con-
cession formed the basis of my analysis of the
hhuman voice.* Speculative men may differ in.
opinion about the origin of the small intervals
which form the tones of various voices; but they
must exist, whether we ascribe them to an un-
dulating motion like that of a stretched cord, or
to the cotemporary vibrations of a system of elas-
tic bodies. It does not appear, that Dr. Young
was acquainted with my paper at the time, he
composed his own; but he found it necessary to
allow the tone of the larynx to receive various
‘modifications from the vibrations of the adjacent
VOL. V. x X
* Page 58,
664 Theory of Compound\Sounds.-
parts. His theory therefore differs from mine in
this particular only : he pronounces the voice to
be a compound by coalescence ; I deny the pos-
sibility of such a compound, and call it a mixture
of imperfect unisons, This mixture appears to
be‘a single, sound, because it has but one direc-
tion; for the proximity of the various parts con-
tributing to the formation of it, disqualifies the’
ear, so that it cannot perceive their relative posi-
tions, and compels it to refer them all to one
place, by Corollary 2 to proposition V.
A certain class of sounds, which, for the sake
of brevity, were not noticed in my paper on the
voice, deserve a place in the present communi-
cation. If a finely-toothed file pass slowly over
a smooth elastic substance, such as a piece of
horn, it makes a grating noise; but if the velo-
city of the instrument be sufficiently increased, a
continued sound is produced, which becomes
more or less acute, by giving a quicker or slower
motion to the file. The grating noise is oc-
casioned by a succession of short interrupted
sounds, resulting from the united vibrations of
the file and the body it scratches ; but the quick
succession of these sounds, caused by an increase
of velocity, gives rise to a secondary sound re-
sembling the harmonical notes, being produced
by alike cause. Now this sound becomes a pri-
mary object with the-ear, in all probability be-
‘
Theory of Compound Sounds, ‘665
cause the pitch of it may be varied. for the first
sounds proceeding from the action of the file,
evidently supply nothing but the tone, Many
instances of the kind occur in art and nature:
the notes of all reed-instruments are of this de-
scription, and the voice must be referred to the
same class, because the larynx resembles a reed-
instrument in structure,
666
‘METEOROLOGICAL OBSERVATIONS.
BY JOHN DALTON. |
Observations on the Barometer, made at Manchester,
_ for 1801.
Mean. Highest. Lowest,
Jan. 29.59 30.05 28.98 |
Feb. 29-56 30.02 28.87
Mar. 29.61 30.20 | 2868
April | 29.86 30.20. | 29.10
May -| 29.65 30.00 29-20
June 29.88 30.11 29-53
July 29.65 30.10 | 29.13
Aug. 29.88 30.15 | 29.42
Sept. 29-73 30.12 29.11
Oct. 29.62 | 30.15 28.73
Nov. 29.55 30.07 | 28.68
Dec. 29.29 39.00 28.54
29.66 | Mean for the year,
The observations were made three times a
day. |
It is now well known that the fluctuations of
the barometer are not local, but extend over a
considerable portion of the earth: the extremes,
whether high or low, usually take place on the
same day in Great Britain, France, Germany,
and Russia, and seldom differ more than one day.
If a number of barometers were stationed at
Meteorological Observations, 667
equal distances over the surface of the globe, and
cotemporary observations made on them for a
year or more, we should then probably be in
possession of facts from which a rational theory
of the variation of the barometer might be de-
rived: Observations made in different parts of
the same province or country seem not now of
much importance in this respect,
Observations on the Thermometer, made at Man-
chester, for 1801.
Mean. { Highest. } Lowest,
Jan. | °39°-3 | 52° | 23°
Heb: 39-4] 52 28
Mar. } 42 57 27
\ April | 46.5 | 68 28
May | 51.9] 67 38
June | 56.3] 73 | 40
pay | 8")
Aug. | 62.1 | 80 53
Sept. | 56 67 AT
Oct. 49.2} 60 35
Nov. | 39.6 | 54 26
Dec. | 34.6] 45 20
Mean | 48
_
The observations were made three times a
day ; namely about 8 A. M. and 1 and 11 P. M.
The mean obtained from them is probably be-
low the true mean temperature,
* The observations in July were interrupted,
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Meteorological Observations. 669
There were 160 days in the year at an average,
on which rain more: or less fell.
I kept a rain-gage on the top of St. John’s
steeple, Manchester, from midsummer 1797 to
the end of 1798; and another on the ground in
the vicinity, about 50 yards perpendicularly be-
low... In- summer. the ratio- of the- raim below
to that above was 3: 2\nearly ; in winter it was
= 21 yearly. F”
Rainat Kendal, 1793—52- 74; A ae O4's
179556. 25; -1796-—45-.-733 1797-596. 835
—1798—54. 63; 1799-56: 933; 1800—48. 205
1801—50. 612 ;, uniting these observations with
those for the five.preceding years (see my Meteor.
Essays) we obtain 58.1 inches.the mean annual
rain at Kendal for 14 years.
Observations on the Winds for 1801.
North, 44: North East, 277: East,.11: South ’
East; 19: South, 22: South West, 412: West,
153: North West, 12. Total goo.
The South West and the North East winds,
as usual, have been the most prevalent; they
are in fact winds that properly belong to the
northern temperate zone, arising from the two
general currents of air tending fom and towards
the equator, (See my Meteorological Essays,
page gt).
679 Meteorological Observations.
Account of the Evaporation Srom Water, in a Cylin=
adrical Vessel of 10 inches diameter, kept nearly
full, at Manchester.
1799. 1800. 1801. || Mean Evap.
Inch. Inch. Inch. Inch.
Jan. ——| 1.5 *
Feb. ——|2,0*
Mar,| t. 082 | 3. 700| —-———| 3. 5 *
April} §. 398 | 4. 760) ———| 4. 5 *
May | 5. 050 | 5. 228] 4. 600] 4. 959
June] 7. 702 .| 5. 207.| 6. 551 | 6: 487
July | 5. 157 |. 5. 679| 6. 048] 5. 628
Aug.| 6. 000 || 6. 376| 5. 798| 6. 058
Sept.| 4. 340 | 3. 986| 3. 368] 3. 898
Oct.| 3. 337 | 1. 998] 1. 718] 2. 951
Noy.| 2. 428 | 1. 600] 2. 098 | 2. 042
Decsiia.' 384 —| i. 5 *
| eer
44. 4Ann,Ev.
N. B. Those means marked * are conjec-
tural; the frost in the winter season usually
damaged the gage.
The mean annual evaporation from soil co-
vered with grass, or from green ground, exclu-
‘sive of dew, was at an average for the three years
above, 233 inches, (See page 361 for the three
years preceding. )
Meteorological Observations. 671
Observations relating to Hygromeiry.
One important attainment in meteorology ig
the knowledge of the quantity of aqueous vapour
existing in the atmosphere at any time, From
this, and the observed temperature of the ais, we
can easily ascertain its disposition for the eva-
poration or precipitation of water; or in other
words for fair or rainy weather. Various instru-
ments have been used to determine the quantity
of vapour in the air. The hygrometer of De
Saussure seems to gainthe most credit ; but Ihave
in a former essay assigned a reason for disallow-
ing it. It is acknowledged that am hygrometer
ought to indicate that degree of cold which is
necessary to make the air begin to part with va-
pour, or to form dew upon the surfaces of bodies;
now as this is at all times capable of being effect-
ed by a simple experiment, (see ‘page 581) it al-
most totally supersedes the. necessity of a du-
bious, very delicate, and consequently easily
injured instrument.
In my journal for a year and a half past, I
have had acolumn entitled, vapour point, in lieu
of thehygrometer column. By vapour point I
mean that degree of the thermometer at which
dew begins to be formed at the time, The
* VOL. V. Y¥ x 4,
672 Meteorological Observations.
higher this point is, the greater is the quantity
and force of vapour in the atmosphere, as is
shewn by the table at page 559; and the lower
it is with respect to the actual temperature’ of
the atmosphere, the greater is the force of eva-
poration. .
1800. July. Mean vapour point for 21 days
=53°; highest 62°; lowest 4o°.:
Aug. Mean for 11 days =56°; but too high
for the monthly mean: highest 60°.
Sept. Wapour point above 50° for 6 days;
highest 60°.
~ Octo. Vapour point mostly below52°; high-
est 59’.
1801. May. Vapour point above 50° for 4
days; highest 55°.
Fune. Mean for 10 days, 493°; highest, 571°;
* lowest, 30%.
- Fuly. Mean for 8 days, 53°; highest, 56°.
Aug. Mean for 22 days, 541°; highest, 61°.
Sept. Mean for 14 days, 54°; highest, 60°
’ Octo. Vapour point for 5 days, map 50°s
highest, 57°.
Nov. Highest, 54°; lowest, 22°:
Dec. Highest, 44°; lowest, 18°.
* On the 13th. great damage done to potatoes, &c. by
the cold which accompanied this remarkably low state
of vapour for the season. It was 46° on the 12th. and
40° on the 14th,
Meteorological Observations. 673
The mean monthly vapour point may also be
inferred from the monthly evaporation and mean
monthly temperature, according to the theory in
the Essay, page 574.—Let August be taken for
an instance: the evaporation was 5,798 inches=
1312 grains from my small gage, which is nearly
6 inches in diameter: but 1312 + 1440 (= min.
in 24 hours) =.91 gr. per minute, the mean
rate of evaporation, The mean temperature
(taken from the mean noon and evening obser-
vations) was 63°, with which entering table at
page 587, we obtain 3. 63 grains, the evaporat-
ing force at that temperature (taken from the
third column, because the evaporating gage is in
a very open situation). Subtracting .g1, there
remains 2. 72 grains, corresponding in the said
table to 54° 3, the mean vapour point. The
mean derived from actual observation is stated
above to be 541°.
o
AUROR® BOREALESS?
Observed since 1793*.
1794. January, 7and 22. March, 8 and 29,
December, 8 and 1g. —Total, 6.
1795. September, 8 and 14.—Total, 2.
1796. None observed.
* For those observed by me preceding that lee see
my Meteorol. Obs. page 54.
* 674 Meteorological Observations:
1797. January, 22. Feb. 1, 18, 27 and 28,
March 2and10. April, 24. Nov. 18, 24,
22 and 23. Dec. 20.—Total, 13+
1798. None observed, |
1799. September, 3. Octo. 25.—Total, 2.
1800. March, 18, Nov. 2and 7. Dec. 10.—+
Toral, 4.
1801. January, 43nd 25. Feb. 22. Aug. 182
Octo. 6.—Total, 5.
In all, 32. ud:
The Aurore have been much less frequent in
the above period than for the same number of
years before.
1 observed 53 of them in 1788.
All the phenomena corroborated the notion
maintained in my Essays abovementioned; namely,
that the luminous beams of the Aurore are cy-
lindrical, magnetic, parallel to each other and
to the dipping needle. The centre of each
Aurora uniformly appeared to be in the magnetic
north,
675
APPENDIX
ue
Explanation of a Roman Inscription by Mr. THO-
MAS BARRITT: with a Note on the same
~ subject by Dr. HOLME. 4
The stone (see plate VIT:) found in the year 1795 in
the Castle-field Manchester, (the Mancunium of the
Romans) from what appears of the inscription, seems to
have been a votive one, dedicated to Jupiter, by the first
Frisian Cohort stationed there, in the 24th year after
their arrival.
Camden mentions two inscriptions at Manchester,
found in the old Mancunium; one he says he saw him-
self, and another was copied for him by the famous
mathematician, Dr, Dee, warden of Manchester College,
They were placed there in memory of two Centurions,
who in their turn had commanded the Frisians, under the
Roman government, for 23 years.
The Frisian Cohort at Mancunium is supposed to
have been part of, and to have belonged to the sixth Ro+
man legion which was stationed at York, and stiled
Victrix ; but it may admit of a doubt whether this cohort
. did not belong to the goth legion, stationed at Chester,
and likewise stiled Victrix.
In Archzologia, vol. 3, page 236, the late learned and
Rey. John Watson, rector of Stockport, exhibited a
drawing and description of a stone similar in size, shape,
and grit to this of Mr. White’s; it was discovered at
Melandra Castle, a little way from Mottram Longendale ;
the ornaments and two first lines correspond very much
with Mr. White’s; but upon viewing the stone I found
the two last lines very imperfect: yet it must be con-
fessed the superior judgment of Mr, Watson was alone
676 Appendix. Explanation of a Roman Inscription.
of sufficient authority to establish the interpretation.
He read it
Cohortis prima Frisianorum Centurio ValeriusVitalis. —
- This Valerius perhaps might not only belong to the
first Frisian Cohort, but be the first centurion, or com~
mander of an hundred men, placed there at the erec-
‘tion of the castle, and the stone fixed up in memory
thereof at his own request.
It appears likely the stone was fixed over the centre
of the arched gateway of the castle, it being found in the
ground where the principal entrance into the fortress was
situated; and Mr. Watson’s stone was discovered in the
gateway at Melandra Castle, This at Manchester was
probably thus placed when the gate was erected, or at
least when it might undergo a repair in the time of Trajan
or Hadrian, coins of both emperors being found at the
place where the gate stood.
. This castle was in a ruinous state about the year goo:
history says that Edward the elder, king of the West
Saxons and afterwards of the Mercians, sent an army
of the latter into Northumberland, which then hada
king of its own, to repair the castle at Manchester, and
put a garrison intoit, asa defence against the Danes, whe
were ravaging the kingdom with fire and sword,
Appendix, Explanation of a Roman Inscription, 677
Note by Dr. Hore,
The following is, I apprehend, a more correct tran-
script of the inscription, than that exhibited in plate VII,
page 534. The characters I have ventured to supply in
italics, are obscure in the original. Inthe engraved copy
an O is substituted for the Q in the fourth line; and there
is a member redundant in the complication that fol-
lows it. .
CHOR. I.
FRISIAVO
N. Q. VI. MVNI.
M. P. XXIII
Probably :
Cohortis prema Frisiavonum que viam munivit millizm
Passuum viginti quatuor : which may refer to the con-
struction of the military road between Mancunium and
Conpate ; as the distance between these stations, fixed
by Richard of Cirencester in his tenth Iter at twenty-
three miles, measures, according to Mr, Whitaker, twenty-
two English, which are nearly equivalent to twenty-
three Roman miles and three quarters.*
The relic before us is of importance, as it enables us to
restore the proper appellation of the cohort that garris-
oned Mancunium: concerning which antiquarians have
been misled by an ambiguous contraction in the in-
scription at Melandra Castle, and probably in that tran-
scribed for Camden by Dr. Dee. It is farther valuable,
as it may serve to vindicate the authority of Pliny and
the purity of his text, in regard to a subject on which
they have been questioned, in a work of great erudition
* Hist. of Manchester, I, 102.
678 Appendix. Explanation of a Roman Inscription.
published by an eminent scholar of the seventeenth cen-
tury*. ’ ( ‘
The Fristasones, or adopting the reading of Har-
duin’s MSS. FrisitaAvones, are twice mentioned by
the elder Pliny; first as inhabitants of an island situated
at the mouth of the Rhine, between the Maese and
the Zuyder Zee; and secondly asa nation of Belgic
Gault. The former are supposed by Harduin to have
- been a body of emigrants from the latter. The name is
likewise preserved in an inscription found at Rome, of
which I insert a copy from Gruter§. . Tea
T. FL, VERINO.
NAT. FRISZVONE.
VIX. AN. XX. M. VII. .
T. FL. VICTOR. ad
EQ. SING. AVG. FRATRI,
DVLCISSIMO.
Fy Cy
Whether the Mancunian cohort was the same with
the Cohors I. Frixagorum of the Notitia, stationed in
the decline of the empire at Vindobala, is a question
that must be decided by future discoveries; as no in-
scriptions occur at Rutchester, which is supposed by
Mr, Horsley to coincide with that station. Ei
‘ E. H.
February 24, 1802.
* Vid, Cluverii German. Antiq, 561.
"+ Hist. Nat. Lib. IV. capp. 29. 31.
§ Inscript. Antiq. DXXXIL. 7.
679
APPENDIX.
ir
Note to Mn. W. Henry’s Paper on Heat.
The argument, at page 611, which is the basis of my
objections to the commonly employed mode of ascertain-
ing specific caloric, I fear is not so fully and clearly stated,
as the abstruse nature of the subject requires,
Assuming two bodies, A and B, to beat the point of
privation of temperature, or to possess no free caloric
whatsoever, the quantity of combined caloric in each,
according to Dr, Crawford’s theory, is directly propor-
tional to the quantities of heat, necessary to produce
equal elevations of temperature in the two bodies. Thus,
if to attain a given temperature, A require caloric as 20,
and B only as 10, the combined caloric of A, before this
addition, is inferred to have borne to that of B, the ratio
of 2tol. But it might, with equal or perhaps greater
probability, have been assumed, that the combined caloric
of A and B is znversely proportional to the quantities of
heat, required to produce a given temperature ;—that A,
for example, to attain a certain temperature, has absorbed
more caloric than B, because in A less caloric existed,
previously, in a state of chemical union,
VOL. V, ZZ
re Yon ceo oo?
LIST OF BOOKS, &c.
PRESENTED TO
THE SOCIETY.
>> O<—
William Alexander, M. D. Dissertatio inauguralis de
partibus corporis animalis qu
viribus opii parent. . Edin-
burgh: 1790. 8°.
American Philosophical Society. Transactions of the Ameri-
can Philosophical Society, held
at Philadelphia, for promoting
useful Knowledge. Vol. IV.
Philadelphia: 1799. 4°.
James Anderson, L. LE. D. Recreations in Agriculture,
F.R. and A. SS. rate Natural History, Arts and
Miscellaneous Literature. Lon-
don: 1799—1S00. 8°.
Society of Antiquaries of Lon- Archzologia. Vol. XII. &
don. XIII. Lond. 1796—1800. 4°.
Some account of the Cathe-
dral Church of Exeter: illus- *
trative of the Plans, Elevations
and Sections of that Building.
With Plates. 1797. i
er ete
682 List of Books, Sc.
Mr. John Banks.
A Treatise on Mills, in four
parts. Ist. on Circular Mo-
tion; 2d. on the Maximum of
Moving Bodies, Machihes,
Engines, &c. 3d. on the Ve-
locity of Effluent-water; 4th.
Experiments on Cireular Mo-
_tion, Water-wheels, &e. Lon-
don: 1795. 8°. .
Samuel Argent Bardsley, M.D. Critical Remarks on Pizarro,
George Birkbeck, M. D.
Robert Blake, M. D.
Sir Richard Clayton, Bart.
a Tragedy taken from the
German Drama of Kotzebue,
and adapted to the English
Stage, by Richard Brinsley
Sheridan, with incidental ob-
servations on the subject of the
Drama. Lond. 1800. 8%
Tentamen chemico-physi-
cum inaugurale de sanguine.
Auctore G. Birkbeck. Edin-
burgi: 1799. 8°.
Dissertatio inauguralis de
Dentium formatione in Ho-
mine & in variis animalibus.
Edin. 1798. 8°. '
Memoirs of the House of
Medici, from its origin to the
death of Francesco, the second
Grand-Duke of Tuscany, and
of the great men who flourished
in Tuscany within that period.
From the French of M. Ten-
hove, with notes and observa-
tions, 2 Vols. Bath: 4°,
List of Books, §c. 683
Mr. John Dalton.
Elements of English Gram-
mar: Or a new System of °
Grammatical Instruction; for
the use of Schools and Acade-
mies. Lond. 1801. 12°.
John Talbot Dillon, Esq. Foreign Agriculture: Or
M.R. 1. A. &.
Capt. John Drinkwater.
Royal Society of Edinburgh.
Thomas Falconer, 4. M.
an Essay on the comparative
advantages of Oxen for Tillage
in competition with Horses:
being the result of practical
husbandry, by the Chevalier de
Monray, &c. Selected from
communications in the French
language, withadditional notes.
Lond. 1796. 8°.
Alphonso and Eleonora: Or
‘the Triumphs of Valour and
Virtue. Illustrated by Histo-
rical Facts. 2 Vols. Lond,
1800. 12°.
A Narrative of the Proceed-
ings of the British Fleet, com-
manded by Admiral Sir John
Jervis, K. B. on the late ac-
tion with the Spanish Fleet, on
the 14th. Feb. 1797, off Cape
St. Vincent: Illustrated with
eight plans, &c. Lond. 1797,
4°.
Transactions of the Royal
Society of Edinburgh. Vol.
Ill. Edinburgh: 4°.
The Voyage of Hanno
translated and accompanied
with the Greek text; explain-
684
List of Books, Sc:
ed from the accounts of md-
dern travellers, &c. illustrated
by maps. London: 1797. 8°.
The Rev. Gerald Fitz-Gerald, An Essay on the Originality
D. D.
and Permanency of the Biblia+
cal Hebrew; with an applica-
tion to the leading Principle of
a Modern Unbeliever; who
denies the existence of any.
written Word of God. Dub.
1796. 8°.
A. Fothergill, M.D. F. R.S. An Essay on tHe Preserva-
‘ &c.
Bfrs. Fulhame.
tion of Shipwrecked Mariners ;
in answer to the Prize-Ques-
tions proposed by the Royal
Humane Society, &c. Lond.
1799. 8°.
An Essay on Combustion,
witha view to a new art of
Dying and Painting: wherein
the phlogistic and antiphlogis-
tic hypotheses are proved erro-
neous. Lond. 1794. 8°.
Rev. Thomas Gisborne, A. M. The Principles of Moral
Philosophy investigated and
applied to the constitution of
civil society; with an appen-
dix of remarks on the late de-
cision of the House of Com-
mons respecting the abolition
of the Slave-trade.—The third
- and fourth Edition, London;
17951798. 8°.
List of Books, &c.
685
Rev. Thomas Gisborne, A.M, Walks in a Forest: or, Po;
Robert Harrington, M, D.
ems descriptive of scenery and
incidents characteristic of a
Forest, at different seasons of
the year. Lond. 1796, 9°.
Poems, sacred and moral.
Lond. 1798, 12°,
An Enquiry into the Duties
of Men in the higher and mid-
dle classes of ‘society in Great
Britain, resulting from their
respective stations, professions
and employments. 2 Vols,
Lond. 1797. 8°,
An Enquiry into the Duties
of the Female-Sex. Lond,
1798. °.
A familiar Survey of the
Christian Religion, and of the
History as connected with the
Introduction of Christianity
and with its progress to the
present-time. Lond. 1799-785,
Chemical Essays: being a
continuation of my reflections
on fixed Fire, with observa~
tions and ‘strictures-upon Drs,
Priestley’s, Fordyce’s, Pear-
son’s and Beddoes’s late pa-
pers in the Philosophical Trans«
actions: and an answer to the
Reviewers, Lond,
A New System of Fire and
Planetary Life ; shewing that
the Sun and Planets are inha-
686 . _ bist of Books, §c.
, netism.
Robert Harringtons M, D,
bited, and that they enjoy the
same temperamentas ourEarth;
also, an elucidation of the Phe-
nomena of Electricity and Mag-
With an appendix.
Lond. 1796, 8°,
Some new Experiments with
Observations upon Heat, clear-
ly shewing the erroneous Prin-
ciples of the French Theory,
_ Also, a Letter to Henry Ca-
a een nad
vendish, Esq. &c. &c. Lond.
1798. 8°.
Experiments and Observa-
tions on Sig, Volta’s Electri-
cal Pile. Lond, 1801, 8°.
Charles Hatchett, Esq. F. R.S. Observations on Bitumenous
Se.
»
ee te a
Substances, with a description
of the varieties of the elastic
Bitumen. From the Linnean
Transactions. Vol. ITV. Lond.
1798. 4°,
Experiments and Observa-
tions on Shell and Bone. From
the Philosophical Trans. Lon-
don: 1799, 4°.
— Chemical Experiments on
Fe
Mr. William Henry.
Zoophytes, with some Expe-
riments on the component parts
of Membrane. From the Philos,
Trans. Lond. 1800. 4°.
Experiments on carbonated
hydrogenous Gas; witha view
to determine whether Carbon,
List. of Books, $c. 687
Mr. William Henry.
be a Simple or 2 Compound
Substance. From the Philos.
Transac. for 1797.
Account of a Series of Exe
periments undertaken with the
view of decomposing the Mu-
riatic Acid. From the Philos.
Transact. for 1800,
——-. An Epitome of Chemistry ;
J. M. Huet, M. D.
John Hull, M. D.
in three parts. Lond. 1801.
12%.
Les Lois de la Nature les
causes materielles de I’ attrac-
tion dévoilees. Lond. 1801.
ee
Dissertatio. medica inaugura-
lis de catharticis. Lugd. Bat.
1792. 4°,
ns «A Defence of the Cesarean
Operation, with observations
on Embryulcia and the Section
of the Symphysis Pubis; with
seven Engravings. Manches-
ter: 1798. 6
—_———————-——— Observations on Mr. Sime
VOL. Vv.
mons’s Detection, &c. &c,
with a Defence of the Cesa-
rean Operation derived from
Authorities, &c. &c. A De-
scription of the Female Pelvis,
an Examination of Dr.’ Os-
born’s Opinions relative to Em-
bryulcia, and an Account of the
AAA
688 List of Books, §c.
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A. Hunter, M. D. FLR.S.
.
Method of Delivery by Embry-
otomy.—lIllustrated by nume-
rous Engravings. Manchester:
1799. 8°.
The British Flora; or a
Linnean Arrangement of Bri-
tish Plants, with their Generic
and Specific Characters, select
Synonyms, English Names,
Places of Growth, Duration,
Times of Flowering, and Re-
ferences .to Figures. In two
Parts. Manchester: 1799. 8°.
Elements of Botany. Ilus-
trated by sixteen Engravings.
2 Vols. Manchester : 1800. 8°.
An Essay on Phlegmatia
Dolens, including an account
of Peritonitis Puerperalis -&
Conjunctiva. | Manchester :
1800. 8°.
Two Memoirs on the Cesa-
rean Operation, By M. Bau-
delocque, sen. Professor of
Midwifery in the School of
Medicine at Paris, &c. &c.
Translated from the French ;
with a Preface, Notes, an Ap-
pendix, and six Engravings.
Manchester: 1801, 8°.
Outlines of Agriculture, ad-
dressed to Sir John Sinclair,
Bart. President of the Board of
Agriculture. York: 1797. 8°.
List of Books, §cee 689
Royal Irish Academy.
The Transactions of the
Royal Irish Academy. 7 Vols.
Dublin: 1787—1800. 4°.
John Coakley Lettsom, M.D. A Journal of a Voyage to
F, R. and A. SS.
Linnean Society.
Rev. William Magee, D. D.
the South Seas in his Majesty’s
- Ship the Endeavour: faithfully
: transcribed from the papers of
the late Sydney Parkinson, &c.
with 29 engraved views—to
which are added Remarks on
the Preface by the late John
Fothergill, M.D. F. R. S.
‘&c. and an Appendix. se
1784. 4°.
Transactions of the Linnean
Society. 5 Vols. Lond. 1791
SS00 3 a ee
A Sermon acta in the
Chapel of ‘Trinity -Cellege,
Dublin, on Thursday the 16th,
of February, 1797, being the
day appointed for a National
Thanksgiving on account ~of
the Providential Deliverance of
this Kingdom from the late
threatened Invasion, &c. Dub-
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Discourses on the Scriptural
Doctrines of Atonement and
Sacrifice.- Lond. 1801. 8°.
Blancs Pilea M.D. F.R.S. A double barrelled Table
and §. A. &c. &c.
. Airepump, and Apparatus.)
690 List of Books, §c.
‘Mr. John Ring. » ; A Treatise on the Cow-pox3;
lela > heo containing the History of the
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Part I. Lond. 1801. 8°.
Mr. John Sharpe. . Ceuvres d’ Horace en Latin
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Tom. a Hambourg. 1733. 12°,
‘James Edward Smith M.D. Syllabus of aCourse of Lece
F. RLS. &c- &e. tures on Botany. Lond. 1795,
8°.
sielaneoniaeil Flora Britannica. 2 Vols,
alt a Lond. 1800, 8°
—— Compendium Flore Britany
Ua + nice. Lond. 1800. 8°.
- Richard Taunton, Esq, | A Collection of Cornish
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A new Dictionary of Natu-
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versal display of Animated Na-
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tations of the most curious and
beautiful. Animals, elegantly
coloured. By W. Frederic
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lio. Lond. 1785.
Charles White, Esq. F. R. S. An Account of the regular
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latter. Illustrated with En-
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Lond. 1799. 4°.
An Essay on the Leyden
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non on pure Mechanical Prin-
ciples—to which is added an
Essay on Medical Electricity
with Cases, Lond. 1798. s°,
‘
. ot °
2 -. Oi =e
Lawfay r
lapel: h A
,
4 n Pah
POY oie alias a i , :
is “ J
Py As
‘
oot at x *
> an » #
U29c8 ¥
aeh
>
| > i
'
¥ ae
‘
* ‘
J
‘ '
:
/
-
‘\
\
.
INDE X.
=e
A
Air, on the velocity of, issuing out of vessels in vari-
Ous circumstances, 398—admitted into an exhausted
receiver acquires an increase of 50° in temperature,
520.—condensation of’ it to a double density increases
its temperature 50°, and liberating it again diminishes
its temperature 50°, - - - - -
Analysis, of two mineral springs near Warwick, -
Anperson, Dr. on an universal character, -
Antiques, account of some lately found in the river
Ribble, 2 - - = As
Atmosphere, supposed to be constituted of several
elastic fluids, co-existing, but independent of each other,
545—LavotsiEeR’s description of it too limited, 548
—aqueous, force of it determinable from its condensa-
tion on a glass containing a cold liquid, - -
Aurore boreales, observed at Manchester from 1793
to 1802, = = i, =
B
Banxs, Mr. on the velocity of air issuing out of
vessels, &c. - - - - -
Barps.ey, Dr. on party-prejudice, - -
Barritt’s, Mr. account of some antiques, -
PAGE,
525
174
89
527
581
694 INDEX.
Barometer, observations on it at Manchester, -
*~ Beautiful, in the human form, essay on, 407—our' 47
idea of it derived from contemplating a medium form,
Bellows, an instrument to measure the force of their
blast, - - - - - =
Benefits, and duties of Literary and Philosophical
Societies, essay on, - ee é:
Betula nigra, or Birch, black” American, recom-
mended for quick growth, &c. ko a -
Bleaching, a new method of, - -
Brown, Dr. on an universal written character, -
Cc
Caloric, materiality of it supported, 609, et seq.—
seems subject to the laws of chemical affinity, -
Celts, account of some, lately found in the river’
Ribble, - - - -
Cold (absolute) or the point of total privation of
heat, new method of inferring it, g :
Cox.ier, Mr. on iron and steel, 109—on fermen-
tation, and distillation of ardent spirit, - -
Colour, of a Negro, remarkable change in, -
Colours, instances of extraordinary vision of, -
Complexion, florid, appears to some people, blue,
Cotton-trec, (Persian) an account of, - -
D
Darton, Mr. on extraordinary vision of colours,
28—on the quantity of rain, compared with evapora-
tion, &c. 346—on the origin of springs, 367—on the
power of fluids to conduct heat, 373—-on the heat and
cold produced by the mechanical condensation and
rarefaction of air, 515—on the constitution of mixed —
gases, 538—on the force of steam in vacuo, 550—on
INDEX.
the force of steam in air, 571—on evaporation, 574—
on the expansion of elastic fluids by heat, —- 2
" Detonation of oxygenated muriate of potash and
combustible substances, - = é
‘Dew, estimate of the annual quantity of, 350—on
glass, &c. a criterion of the force and quantity of aque-
ous vapour in the atmosphere, ~~ : L ¥
Distillation of ardent spirit, on the, - ig
E
_ Ether (sulphuric), vapour from it subject to the same
Jaw of force as that from water, 365—force of its
vapour at 212° of temperature, 567—evaporation of it
in the open air, - - - - -
Evaporation, mean monthly from water, at Liver-
pool, 359—mean monthly from green ground, at Man-
chester, 361—from water in every temperature is
directly proportional to the force of steam of the same
temperature, 58¢—table for determining it in atmos-
pheric temperatures, 585—from spirits, ether, &c.
follows the same law as-from water, 590—from ice,
also is subject to the same law, 593—from water, at
Manchesier, for 3 years, - - - a
Expansion of elastic fluids by heat, 595—is the
same for all elastic fluids, contrary to the experiments
of du_Vernois, 600—amounts to 325 parts from 1000
from 55° to 212°, ibid.—increments of it decrease in as-
gending, compared with equal increments of mercury,
;
Fermentation, experiments and observations on, = =”
‘Fetus (acephalous), account of one, 498—another,
Forces (central), ‘inverse method of, Ne a
,
FO. Ve -« BBE
695
PAGE,
595
233
582
243
590
670
599
696 INDEX.
G
Gases (mixed), on their constitution, 535-—not re-
sulting from chemical affinity, - - -
GisBorne, Rev. Thomas, on the benefits and duties
of literary.and philosophical societies - -
Govucu, Mr. on the variety of voices, 58—on the
method of determining by the ear the direction of
sonorous bodies, 622—on the theory of compound
sounds, - = = s Bs
Grass, colour of, nearly the same as that of red
sealing-wax, to some eyes, 2 : o
Gururie, Dr. on the Persian cotton-tree, -
H
Heat, the power of fluids to conduct it independent
of internal motion maintained, 373—materiality of it
PAGE.
539
70
653
41
214
supported, : - . 609, et seq,
Henry, Mr. on certain experiments supposed to
disprove the materiality of heat, - - -
Hints, on the establishment of an universal written
character, - - - - ~
Ho.me’s, Dr. explanation of a Roman inscription,
Hoyte, Mr. on the oxygenated muriate of potash,
“Huu, Dr. on the nervous systems of different ani-
mals, and original defects in them, Ny fie -
Huln Abbey, Northumberland, enquiry into the
name of its founder, - - - .
Hygrometer of de Saussure, remarks on it, -
Hygrometry, observations relating to, ’ -
I
Ice, a bad conductor of heat, 388—is evaporable,
like water, - 2 = %
Iron and Steel, observations on, - > >
Inscription, (Roman) found near Manchester, ex-
planation of, = 2 . e .
603
275
677
221
475
46
595
67}
593
109
673
INDEX; 697
L
Pace.
Lampe, Dr. on the analysis of two mineral waters, 174
LavoisteR’s description of the atmosphere too
limited, : ai - - - - 548
Learning, and the arts, defence of, against some
charges of raves 438—not the parent of polite-
ness, - a0 - -. ibid. et seq.
LeMINGTON-Priors, analysis of two mineral
springs at, -~ - - ay OTA:
Luxury, and corrupt manners, not the progeny of
science and the arts, - - - 463 et seq:
M
Matériality of heat supported, in aoe to ex-
periments supposed to disprove it, - - 603!
Meteorological observations, - - 666°
Muriate of Lime: (liquid), vapour from it conform- .
able to the same law of force as aqueous vapour, = 579
N Blas
Negro, remarkable change of colour in one, - 314
Nervous Systems. of different animals, observations. ee
on, 475, et seg.—on original defects in the nervous
system of the human species, 492—their influenceon . . ;
sensation and voluntary motion, <) dh ML oer G07
, oO
Oak (Iron or Turkey), a profitable and ornamental
tree, - - ~ - - 167
Oxygenated muriate of potash, experiments on, © - 221
Oxygenated muriatic acid, new method of bleaching . |.)
with, r - “ - Fy 29S
, P
Party-prejudice, cursory remarks on, - - 1
Coal ed INDEX:
PAGE,
_Pink (colour), ope to some people the same as
shay shite: sony iim : 0 =. $2
Politeness, the offspring, of woman, not of learning
and the-arts, 451—not. justly parler wae insince- ,
rity and dishonesty, . - 4 = 458
Poplar, Athenian, recommended for Senabji and
quick growth, ah, - - - 165
Priestiey’s, Dr. analysis of atmospheric air,-re- 9
marks x 4 a ARES = 123.
R
“Rain, mean annual quantity of, in several parts of i
England, 348—general mean for England and Wales,
349—raim and dew equal to the evaporation, arid te’
the supply of springs and rivers, 365—-mean quantity. =
of at he ga for 8 ini 668—at Kendal for. 14).
years, -~miotnuos - - io 669
Repulsion ¢ of the particles of elastic fluids ete deolde
from experiments to be directly as their temperature,
reckoned from the point of total privation ofheat, - 601
' Ring, antique, found near Castle-field, Manchester,
account of; - - - - "533
Rivers of England and Wales, estimate of the quan-
tity of water that: ‘flows down them annually, a3
‘Rupr, Mr. on Dr. Priespiry’s analysis of atmos-
pheric air,, 123—on a new method of bleaching with
the oxygenated muriatic acid, tks - = 298
8
»Smrrn’s,, Dr. bie of compound sounds de-
fended, + - - ~ . \ + 653 et seq.
© Séunding bodies, home we judge of their directions, 622
Sounds (compound), theory of, = - 653
Spirits (ardent), on the distillation of, © - 243
INDEX.) 69
: PAGE,
Springs, origin of, 367—are supplied ‘by rain, - 371
Statues, Grecian, present the mtost perfect beauty
of form, — - - 2 ~ 428 et seq.
Steam, see Vapour.
Steel and Iron, observations on, v - too
Thermometer mercurial, supposed not to be an ac-
curate measure of- heat, 602—observations on it at
Manchester, - - - 667
Timber trees, ov three kinds, useful and ornamental, 163
’ Tragedy and tragical representations, essayon, - 319
U
Universal character (in writing, &c.) on an, - 89
Uvepate’s, Mr. enquiry into the name of the
founder of Hutw AsBey, 46—remarks on Dr. Fer-
RIAR’s account of the monument in the church of
Hutn AsBBeEy, & - - ae eis
Vv
Vapour, from water in vacuo, table of its force deter-
mined experimentally from 32° to 212°, and thence
inferred from—40° to $25°, 559—from ether of any
temperature the same force as that from water of 110°
higher temperature, 566 e¢ seg.—from other liquids
follows the same law of force as the aqueous, 568, et
seq.—from liquids, is of the same force in air of any
density as in vacuo, in the same temperature, 572—
hence is inferred to be a distinct elastic fluid, “are
Ventriloquism, attempt to explain it, - 6358 et seq.
Vescy (family), pedigree of, - = (ST
Voices, on the variety of, - - - 58
Ww .
Waker, Mr. on tragedy and the interest in tra-
gical representations, 319—his defence of learning and
“s) ff ‘ i
700 see INDEX.
94.0 pe
PAGKe
the arts against some charges of Rousseau, « 438
Water, its density greatest at 424°, 374—expands 7
from that point equally with heat or cold, 375 et seq.
—may be cooled down to 5 or 6° of Fahrenheit with-
out being frozen, if inclosed in the bulb of a thermo-
meter tube, 376—in a glass may differ 50° in temper-
ature at half an inch in depth, a - 385
Waters mineral, analysis of two, - - 174
Wuirte, Mr. on three kinds of timber-trees, usé-
ful and ornamental - cahiite - - 163
Winds, observations on them at Manchester, - 669
So Se -
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