Hii hegtes ay i 110 Ra ite i ; iit ane ‘ A ‘ wae ig Giuliana? i af Nae ett ars : Hines ine i} . 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. s41y7 fr SLL sazay) fb suru 4 sua) EE stn Ee “OAIsSassog 41ay? Lb 721 avy fF urn ff a1ayy fe say {F *aTaTUyacy way) Ee a - . wayy H vay way) win B ‘sanesnooy fay [kau [FS fay? [k ans TF ayy ul an [F ‘daneurmoNn Ca aii 2p oe» ee a ed | *JOININ “QUIUTWD J *OUITNISeIY y : “uosaod pany a1 jJO sunox Panini & ~ suno aniwA — “aatssossog unox | anid uno Gg awd *DATIIUYOC nox Ff sana Ff sa H aw ‘sanesnoy ‘ ax J nona J am {] 1 Qf © ‘aatyeurutoN *uosiod puodas oY} JO ‘uosiad ys1ly OI JO ‘SHAILVAIVAG WAHL HLIM ‘SNNONOUd 'TVNOSUAd 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 €évidence 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 MEMBERS ADMITTED SINCE LAST PUBLICATION, Mr. Thomas Ainsworth. Mr, William Bayley. Mr. Garside Bentley. Mr. Edward Clayton. Mr. John Clayton. Mr. John Douglas. Mr. Henry Entwisle. *Mr. Benjamin Gibson. Rev. William Grindrod. Mr. Edward Hanson. Mr. John Hutchinson, Mr. John Jenkinson. Mr. Samuel Kay. William Monsell; Esq. Mr. Robert Peel, jun. Mr. Waller Phillips. Mr. Charles Pye. Mr. Robert Robinson. Mr. John Rothwell. *Rev. George Walker, F, R. S. Mr. Charles Wood. Mr. Thomas. Yates, Those marked * are of the Committee of Papers, iv LIST OF MEMBERS, a CORRESPONDING MEMBERS. James Mackitrick Adair, M. D. Mr. A. Deriabin, Russia. Mr. Fontana, Surgeon, Member of the Asiatic Society. Mr. Edward Greene. John Haworth, M. D. Lieut. Henry, 14th. Foot. James Mease, M. D. of Philadelphia. Alexander N. Scherer, M. D. of Weimar. &: Richard Taunton, Esq. ; Mr. Charles Taylor, Secretary to the Society for the Encou- ragement of Arts, &c. Mr. James Thomson. Charles Wilkinson, M. A. PLA LL SL HONORARY MEMBERS. Benjamin, Count Rumford. Thomas Marsham, Esq. Treasurer of the Linnean Society. Sir George Onesiphorus Paul, Bart. James Edward Smith, M. D. F. R. S. &ce. &c. John Robison, A. M. Professor of Natural Philosophy, Edinburgh. Smithson Tennant, Esq. F. R. S. &c. &c. William Wright, M. D. F. R. S. Lon, and Edin, 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 Experiments and Observations to determine whether the quantity of Rain and Dew is equa} to the quantity of Water carried off by the Rivers and raised by Evaporation; with an Enquiry into the Origin of Springs. By Mr. ON LEAR ae ace alee cent apr p. 346 Experiments and Observations on the power of Fluids to conduct Heat ; with reference to Count Rumford’s Seventh Essay on the same subject. By Mr. John Dalton .........-.0.-++ Pp. 373 Experiments on the Velocity of Aur issuing out of a Vesselin different circumstances ; with the Description of an Instrument to measure the Force of the Blast in Bellows, Sc. By Mr. Banks, Lecturer in Natural Philosophy. —Communicated by Mr. Dalton --++s--.--+--00 p- 398 vi CONTENTS. Essay on the Beautiful in the Human Form ; and Enquiry whether the Grecian Statues pre- sent the most perfect Beauty of Form, that we at present have any Acquaintance with.—Com- municated to the Society from a Correspon- dent, through the Rev. George Walker. p. 407 A Defence of Learning and the Arts, against some charges of Rousseau. Intwo Essays. By the Rev. George Walker, F.R, S.. -ves+ p- 438 Observations on the Nervous Systems of dif- ferent Animals; on Original Defects in the Nervous System of the Human Species and their Influence on Sensation and Voluntary Motion. By John Hull, M. D. ....+-+- p. 475 Experiments and Observations on the Heat and Cold produced by the Mechanical conden- sation and rarefaction of Air. By Mr. John Dal tam, 535 A Review of some Experiments, which have been supposed to disprove the Materiahty of Heat. By Mr. William LENIY, O<— 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 rr , , é A \ ¥ R ‘ . i ; ’ P : . ‘ z Fe ‘ “an . 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. © v rot . a . At m a 2 ji, oi 4 ye Z %, ¥ oa i %, 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 . \ STATENS Nee fetta, \ Ny \ \ * © On ak) we. ayes 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 8 NL ee ifiton of MT Barrett of Mindester ofthe vaiginaks wud tu the ¢ Aenan Insenplion fon Cafe field Manchester whidfrien f C White Bag” ELS he size 15 In" by I found 1796 TVarwtt Nor 1001 Keak A . ¢ he progress off al 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, fS ft =~ 2 os *punols paywAdjo dow vO SULT pue Qutystp 4jeq e east 2 7 — Ye pur opiure oie soSeS oy ‘sity 07 ppe sapnyt oo} aq Avtu suru opqeqoaduir jou ST . 2 ao to pue t4yQuenb oy) pajei-saA0 3eyMaWos sey aimsvow SIY UI) OF swdas aH *s9your a : i 2 r=) G°8g AUT] DUILS OY) 10} UlvA DSLADAY OY} sayeUI “puoj[Es jo adyTVAY AS81095 “yA oon oo" tn *soyoutl Og “Pg st ‘srvaA g Jo OSvsoAv uv uo ures jo AyQUENb enuur oY) dU “a 45 O a oe 5° (DD SO : $ssRS as 09 “PE/S0 “SElPS “ZE|bO *St|9s “1¢|08 “SE|¢o tosh ‘aslar “LE i) % OO ——. 3 . 3 68 8 16 *S |9¢ “t [90 “€ [CE *O |og *S log “¢ joL *I |I9 *s IIL 3] “3Eq ae eee bL “€ 1ST “€ JOL “E 106 “I 189 *S 166 °S IET *S |Ot “F joy *g | ‘AON SS a cae Z. 96 °€ |L6 “h ILE “h ILL "ES 110 “E 118 °S [28 °*S l6r “Jorg | “DE beat a PS 91 “bh |Th "9 ISG "9 ICE *¢ I¢6 *E |98 °E [69 °S lob '0 |99 ~w | *adag P ecf#2% GLE [GL *O [SO “LPL °8 ISL “b IGF °S [to “1 {8 “ |sg Hp | “Sny ee be be oe [¢ “€ |€8 “fh 165 *O 80 “W [GL “b 1oG °S 161 *¢ j10 “Ss lor *s | Anf” A ee B, 9L°T 169 "0 JTL “0 160 “S {98 °O |9B “ [SE *% |90 *% ca *1 | unt © £8 4,8 © & 36 “S 109 *S |S8 ‘S |El *S |8b *1 JoG *¢ Jeo *¢ 110 "I |za a | AeW © vw. € 8 2 BF °S |6L *O OL “F \6r *S [26 ‘L |st ‘% joo *1 lea ‘s l16 *s | Ady S S20 & o LL “I |68 “G {LE “GS 19T °S SI “I |f6 "0 189 *O 150 “3 \s0 *] | *aRW Ss %&% £586 96 °G |S8 "I [hh °O [OT “b II6 “I {1% “1 163 °S joy *] [LL °8 | sqeq s ££ .2-.. 5 90 °G |b “G 198 'S |9L “1 jOL *% sg “1 Jol “és \e6 ‘0 loo *1 | *uel B*i58 a= oes ER wos 9 “Guy | "qouy | *youy | youy | *qooy | -youy | syouy |syouy | your oo .+ | “ueoall ‘rost | ‘oost |S66L1 | ‘8621 | *26L1 | ‘96LT | ‘cont | ELI e bles e es eS a eS: |e : 8S €20 2s “uapoyouyy ww umy fo qunorip 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. John Hull, M.D. 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- lin: 1797. 8°. 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 Vaccine Inoculation, and an o} cay 30 ! Account of the various Publica- tions which have appeared on that subject in Great Britain and other parts of the World. Part I. Lond. 1801. 8°. Mr. John Sharpe. . Ceuvres d’ Horace en Latin et en Frangois, avec des re- marques critiques et histori- 2 AE. “ques, Par M. Dacier. 10 ! 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 Minerals, A new Dictionary of Natu- ral History; or complete uni- versal display of Animated Na- ture. Withaccurate represen- tations of the most curious and beautiful. Animals, elegantly coloured. By W. Frederic Martyn, Esq. In 2 Vols, fo- lio. Lond. 1785. Charles White, Esq. F. R. S. An Account of the regular Gradation in Man, and in dif- ferent Animals and Vegetables ; and from the former to the List of Books, §c. 691 C. H. Wilkinson, A. M. latter. Illustrated with En- gravings adapted to the subject, Lond. 1799. 4°. An Essay on the Leyden Phial, with a view of explain- ing this remarkable Phenome- 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 - Rh. & W. Dean & Co. Printers, Manchester. a) — > Mer ae uy ou heels Shea Al eo ae —_ ; i i 5 ; fi cae Ty =a: * piel es ye la ere eine wa Basis ie “tee